between science and fiction

many fled the city, abandoning the metropolis for the beaches, or travelling abroad. millions of chilangos, however, didn't have a choice, having no option but to remain in the d.f. and its environs and wait it out. the streets eerily quiet, waiters loitered outside their establishments, waiting for something to happen. nothing happened. food was still available to takeaway in most establishments, but few were buying. for the meseros, whose livelihoods depend upon their propinas, this is a time of immense hardship, dar en la torre probably best describing their predicament. at the taxi sitios, drivers waited and waited, wearing masks and surgical gloves. few partook of their services. solitary joggers circled the parks and the condechi dog walkers- the condesa is home to all manner of pedigree pugs- were out and about, although i was somewhat disappointed not to encounter any chihuahuas or salukis sporting bespoke canine masks. pollution was down, with public works projects- of which there are many in various stages of completion- at a standstill. i had read reports of people stockpiling provisions, but back in the roma at my local sumesa- reputedly the smallest sumesa supermarket in the city- little had changed. one wag noted that the tiny roma sumesa never had anything in stock, anyway, so what was there to worry about? around the corner from my department, puestos were still operating, dishing out delicious huitlacoche-filled concoctions. the chiveros were clearly keeping their knives sharpened as well. masks- and rumours- were abundant wednesday and thursday, but far fewer folks were sporting masks today, tired of the irritation, realizing they were next to useless. last night i took up an invitation from french friends to attend a home film screening here in the roma. following an impromptu wine tasting conducted by a sommelier-in-training, accompanied by ripe brie from san juan market, a true gourmet's paradise, we started planet terror. it was the perfect choice of film given the circumstances. there were knowing smiles all-round when the survivors, having escaped the zombies, arrived in mexico, far from the toxic threat. we finished the night, glasses of malbec raised- or was it cabernet?- swaying to beirut's take on chanson. still swaying, i suspect, i wandered home through the deserted roma. the bars and restaurants would- hopefully- be back to life on the 6th, but there would be long-term effects for mexico and the- already struggling- economy.