Spain prepares for end of state of emergency – Normalitas

Today was injection day, baby.

Not the vaccine (Pfizer, Moderna, AstraZeneca or, soon, Janssen, depending on the flight of the birds of the day), but my monthly anti-cancer injection bondedotiger in the stomach (photos of a patient in remission).

I arrive at the health center 20 minutes before my time, a single line doubles the block. We are in the middle of an anti-Covid vaccination campaign in Spain. More than half of the people lined up, the elderly.

A lady with brown hair combed back, a golden tassel-shaped earring and a turtleneck accompanies me, shoulder to shoulder. It could be a cameo in Lost in Space, that 1960s series. Mask etc.

She is fine. Shout into my ear and to the man behind: I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT TAIL IS FOR! I DON’T WANT TO GO TO THE FINAL! I WILL STAY EXACTLY HERE! “LADY, the minimum distances, SISPLAU !!! [aka por favor, piedade e comiseração, no meu catalão brasicantado]”, begged. Today I’m upset. Ma’am, I loved your turtleneck, but… I’m going to kill you.

On the fourth floor, for general consultations, no more queues. The receptionist responds to an elderly couple wrapped in their green and red plush: NO, LORD, IF YOU DON’T TAKE THE VACCINE NOW, YOU WILL KNOW DIOS WHEN YOU HAVE ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY! THAT IS TRUE? – in a megaphonic voice, which is for ALL of us to understand, yes.

I suspect the old man did not want to receive the AstraZeneca vaccine.

My nurse idol, Lola, is not here. She was recruited for the campaign. An unprecedented nurse assisted me. He took the box with the monster needle, turned it over with a look-what-it-is-this (I’ve seen this face before, today I’m giving it away and trusting it). I left in pain to walk and I am currently writing with my belly throbbing. Poha.

As I go out, I listen as I pass the conversation of a very old couple, he strokes his gray head in the wheelchair, the most beautiful gesture of this spring morning: “Albert, I don’t feel well”. “It cannot be, my dear; they just vaccinated you. Calm, calm… ”.


This week, Spain’s Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez (by the way, in a fast-paced election campaign) not only guaranteed the vaccination of 70% of the population by the end of August (so far only 3 million of Spaniards, or 6.38% of the population, received both doses), as confirmed that the state of emergency we experienced last year will finally be suspended within a month, the May 9.

This means that we will be able to move within the territory and that there will be no curfew for the last six months. The possibility of limiting the number of people in groups, bar tables and evenings will also decrease. Aix.


The deadline given by the Spanish government to vaccinate the majority of the population (33 million people) coincides with the end of the European summer.

Until then, unfortunately I imagine we will have so many opportunities to laugh at the scheme, possibly causing cyclical spikes in contagion as we have had in recent months, but not as dizzying.

Recalling: the first, after the summer of last year, when it was thought that the pandemic was already a turning point; the second, after the reopening, in November; the third, after the holidays. And now we are seeing a slight increase in cases after Holy Week, when the country temporarily eased border lockdown.

This week in the province of Madrid, a cumulative average rate of 324 cases per 100,000 population was enough to classify the area as being at extreme risk. The restrictive measures will be extended to at least 15 health zones and 7 municipalities, from where residents will only be able to leave for a just cause in the next 15 days.

But, Brazilians who suffer from mi cuore, note the difference compared to a certain sleeping giant: all this caution and caldo de pollo is armed with a rate of 16 deaths in Madrid in the last 24 hours (149 nationwide ) and 20.48% occupancy of intensive care beds in Spain.

The aforementioned restrictive measures affect in practice 6.4% of the population of Madrid, or just over 400,000 people. Madrid, along with Ceuta and Melilla, are the only Spanish cities where cases remain above 200 per 100,000 inhabitants.


But there are those who are a little outraged. After all, the first international tourists are starting to arrive in Spain – German, English and French, mainly – and, if they can more or less wander freely around the territory, we are all here playing the house game. and suck our fingers.

In Barcelona, ​​still living a restricted life with a curfew and other limitations, I feel a shy atmosphere of openness. I receive a cultural calendar of the city in my mailbox. For the first time, I realize that face-to-face attractions predominate. “Life advances and, with it, art advances”, sings the editorial. Yes, it’s poetic.


I can’t even remember what it’s like to be out of the house after 10pm, without running to get home, without some fear of walking the dark, deserted streets. How exciting. And, because these are times of conflict, what distress.

“We left the counters prematurely, we wrapped our arms with new books, recited verses from memory and we woke up dreaming of songs we still don’t know,” concludes the editorial of the latest Cool Cultural Agenda. Barcelona. “April: is this going to be good for everyone?” We’ll see…

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