Tuesday, June 16, 2020

I step into the grocery store to pick up my package. The grumpy man greets me by name, in English. That has never happened before. I’ve been coming here for a year and a half. I didn’t know that he could speak English at all. I feel like I’ve either passed a test or failed one. The package has arrived more quickly than I expected from the US. It’s not a book this time, but a CD. Or, rather, two CDs. I check my order online when I get to work and see that I did, indeed, accidentally order two copies. That explains why it was more expensive than I expected. Oh, well. I know someone here who will appreciate the copy that I don’t need. I eat dinner at a cafe on the square at the center of town. The seating is outside, though they put glass walls around it in the winter. The tables are reasonably far apart. Most people who are not eating are wearing their masks properly. That’s a good sign. I’ve been seeing people on the street wearing their masks on their elbows or wrists. I suspect that they would only put them on their faces when police approach. But I haven’t knowingly seen any police on the streets in a long time. It’s a quiet city. There’s little crime outdoors.