CXXVIII. México en el Tiempo de Coronavirus - un Viaje al Supermercado

Mexico in the Time of Coronavirus - a Trip to the Supermarket 
Revised 30 Mar

There's a local singer who looks to be in his mid-50s, with an enviable mop of steel gray hair, a friendly face and jaunty demeanor. He usually sings a collection of phonetically-learned golden oldies near the south end of the tianguis; that's the crowded, two block-long open-air market that features all kinds of goods and is held every Wednesday. The tianguis was closed last week though, and into the not-at-all foreseeable future, as a surprisingly cautionary measure in this pandemic time. I say surprising because Mexico is not known for long-range thinking especially as it relates to personal health.

Chava is your basic guitar player but he has a nice gravelly voice for those Creedence songs--like Proud Mary--that he favors, and does an admirable job of hitting the high note on Let it Be. With the tianguis now closed, he's moved his act to an appreciative audience at the entrance of our local supermercado. I was pleased to see him there several times recently and happy to give him a good tip. Some well-heeled Tapatios down from Guadalajara for the weekend were taking videos of Chava with their smart phones, and one gringa was putting effort into dancing joyfully.

I notice it's not more or less crowded than usual in the store but I'm continually using a disinfecting wipe, while remaining particularly conscious of keeping my distance and not touching my face. Maybe a quarter of the shoppers are masked--although not the two cashiers--and about equally sorted between gringos and mexicanos. At the checkout I'm aware--in a more profound manner than usual--of airborne spittle; I breathe slowly through my nose while carefully holding my shopping bag open, thus using a minimum of touches to receive a bottle of wine, jar of olives, and carton of half and half.

There is a seed of fear beginning to grow but a week later I'm still not masking up when I go for a walk along the lake front and our increasingly deserted central plaza; my last two trips to supermercado, though, I started drawing a mask over my face as soon as I entered the store. I recently discovered that the workshop mascara I use to protect from polyurethane dust is considered the best around--emergency room grade. Kind of wasted on me. At least I can give my more pedestrian masks to the cashiers.

As yet another sign of these times, Juan Carlos, my fruit and vegetable guy who sets up his card table shop just outside the supermarket, gives me an elbow bump instead of our usual handshake, laughing at the incongruity. That was only a week after this initial post; nowadays we'd do a virtual bump from at least a meter. (30/Mar: Juan Carlos is not working his usual day)

I was planning a longer shopping trip on that first day but heard a rumor that the granero had just closed for five days in obeyance of a health authority directive. (I later learn that the store did not close, but, obeying the sign to keep your distance, you must give your order to the dueña at the door, who, yesterday, was wearing a clear plastic spittle-catcher over her mouth) Some of the stores around here, at least those primarily catering to ex-pats like Fernando's deli, are beginning to close. Most restaurants are also shutting down or just doing delivery and take-out. Even the corner abarrotes is taking the precaution of only allowing one or two customers at a time inside its closet-sized interior; I see several locals lined up on the sidewalk in the afternoon sun.

A recent early evening stroll along the lake side shows families--though fewer of them than usual--still enjoying picnics with their ever-present boom boxes. Later, during the next afternoon, our pueblo's usually bustling central plaza is almost empty, as are the streets.

These precautions were in contrast to the attitude of Mexico's president, Señor López Obrador, who said just mid-March that he's confident "misfortunes and pandemics won't affect us"--"us" meaning the poor and thus righteous. This kind of pronouncement is echoed by some other Mexican politicians and seems to promote a religious interpretation on the Who Qualifies for Rapture theme (an alternative spelling of "rapture" is d-e-a-t-h). The governor of our own state, Jalisco, takes a much more scientifically-oriented view, so we will probably be extending the week-by-week, spottily observed, 'lockdown' into the unimaginable future.

Regardless of its effect on us as a species, at least we are giving nature a break from our industry and consumerism. Meanwhile, even in this pandemic time for homo sapiens, beautiful lavender blossoms are now decorating the still leafless jacaranda trees, the primavera's yellow flowers will soon be coming out, and the weather today is warm, calm and sunny over both our village and the nearby mountains and lake.