Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Freshly printed signs on the doors and elevators of my office building say “Entrance without masks forbidden.” I haven’t seen this enforced, but people are complying. It helps that the guard at the front desk always looks peeved. Outdoors, people are less willing. While most people I pass on the way to work are carrying masks, only half are wearing them, and fewer are wearing them effectively. The government has doubled the fine for not wearing masks, though I haven’t heard of anyone having to pay it. The virus is spreading again. They’re tightening the rules at the House of a Hundred Grandmothers. No visitors are allowed. The residents may go outside, but some are staying in, just in case. On the other hand, some shows are starting to happen. At work, I hear from my family that my favorite troupe will perform next week, outdoors at the Dance Center. There’s no word of it at the center’s website, but the dance company’s site has tickets on sale. I grab one immediately for next Wednesday’s late show. There’s still a chance that the government will shut that down again. I’m gambling the ticket price that the event will happen. I’ll understand if it doesn’t. The news shows Orthodox men dancing at a ceremony, holding small hoops together rather than joining hands. Someday, eventually, people will dance as we once did again.