I am writing this from cold, grey, rainy Brussels. The country here is in lockdown. All restaurants and bars are closed, as are all shops bar the essential ones: supermarkets, boulangeries and pharmacies.
I arrived here the day before lockdown was due to kick off and all the shops were frightfully busy; you could almost see the COVID-19 aerosols having a field day. But, at one point, I started noticing long, socially-distanced queues going around whole blocks every so often. Was it possible that people were standing in line for hours on end for last-minute buys of clothes or gadgets or to do their hair?
No, as it turned out. As we cycled around the city, we noticed that these snake queues were for… bookshops and art shops!
People – of all ages and of all nationalities – were stockpiling on knowledge and on creative items to help them get through the second lockdown. I was slightly incredulous and incredibly excited at the same time – if I had a tail, I wouldn’t have stopped wagging it.
Of course, this made me think: if there had to be a second lockdown in Malta (Robert Abela, chill: this is solely hypothetical) would people queue to purchase books and colours from Merlin bookshops or Agendas or Vee Gee Bee? Hmm, watch that wagging tail go limp all of a sudden: judging by what went on first time round, I think the line is most likely to form behind the doors of hairdressers, beauticians and computer shops.
Could it be because we’re Mediterranean? You know, we have dark locks with roots that need more maintenance and we have, err, hairy bodies that need more, err, waxing. Or maybe we care more about the way we look because the sun is perennially out and we’re never stuck inside listening to the rain pattering on the windows. So, as we have always done throughout history, we can blame our narcissism on our geographic location.
What worries me, though, is that, increasingly, people who read or who love spending their free time being creative are having to be apologetic. It’s like you’re deemed a downright snob if books and art stocks (and make-up-less faces and chipped nails) are your idea of idyll.
This, I believe, is stemming from years of populist attack on culture and its campaign to stamp out that which nourishes the soul – if you partake of it, then puh-puh, you’re an elitist.
It is, in essence, why I disliked Donald Trump. Even though he lived a life of extreme affluence, he still portrayed himself as “one of the people”. Why? Because he prided himself on eating junk food every day, watching TV non-stop, not owning a book and shuddering at the thought of a mere walk. He was an example of populism at its most manipulative: he actually wanted people to lower their standards of their soul nourishing, so his own deficient standards wouldn’t look poor.
This is, sadly, a typical populist approach – and all follow the same pattern. (Remember when Joseph Muscat refused to attend an official state dinner because he preferred a “biċċa burger”? It had nothing to do with the food but everything to do with accusing people who follow protocol as snobs.)
We lived to see one more event which shows that race does not matter but ability does- Kristina Chetcuti
I witnessed the queues for books in the same week we saw Trump-the-populist politely being told to step down. We can only hope that 2020, awful as it’s been, will be remembered for one good thing: the start of the downfall of populism, so that booklovers, burger lovers, art lovers and waxing lovers can once again live together in harmonious diversity.
***
While on the subject of the US elections, I think it is amazing that the new American vice president is a woman. Kamala Harris (pronounced, in case, like me, you’ve been wondering, comma-la) is the first ever woman and the first ever black woman to occupy that role.
I think all parents of girls – little or not so little – rejoiced at the news that yet another glass ceiling has been broken and that we lived to see one more event that shows that race does not matter but ability does.
This election also meant that I won a bet with my stepson, who thought Joe Biden was too old to be elected (like Trump is a spring chicken). I happen to think that it’s great that 70+ people still contribute to civil service. Up to a few decades ago, wisdom was revered; now we shove it under the carpet.
We need the insights of people who have seen it all and lived it all – and who know that the wheel can’t be reinvented all the time.
***
And talking of old age – an 81-year-old Italian man last week serenaded his wife from beneath her hospital window. Stefano Bozzini, who was unable to visit his wife, Carla, in hospital due to COVID-19 restrictions, sat in the courtyard of the Castel San Giovanni Hospital, a town in the northern Emilia-Romagna region, and played her their favourite love songs on his accordion.
This really captures the moment we’re living. Our inner resources are the only thing we’ve got at this point to wade through these drab times. While our governments are trying to sell us mixed messages, we can follow what the medics are saying and, at the same time, tap into our romantic spirit.
This is how I want to be when I’m 81. I’d better start cracking on those accordion lessons.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti