The light is still on on a balcony on Calle Martín de Vargas, in the Madrid neighborhood of Embajadores. Not long ago, on that balcony was a garden full of life. Now the plants have withered because there is no one to take care of them. The elderly couple who lived in the apartment died from Covid-19 during the pandemic, which, in Spain alone, has already left more than 27,000 dead. "I did not know them in person, only by sight," acknowledges Verne José Antonio Bautista, the neighbor who has released the story of this couple and their balcony on Twitter.
Nothing does that balcony was an orchard. Now he is so sad because the couple who gave him life died from covid.
Dead balconies are visible scars from the pandemic. I remember so many loved ones who left. Sometimes it's hard to believe it. pic.twitter.com/s3EAtKk5iM
The balcony became popular on networks this Sunday when José Antonio Bautista, a 31-year-old neighbor who lives across the street, wrote a tweet telling the story of this couple and called these balconies "the visible scars of the pandemic." "I never imagined that I would receive so many displays of affection for my publication," says Bautista during a telephone interview with Verne .
It was a neighbor of Bautista who told him on Friday, June 5, the story of this balcony and its owners. Petra López, 89, had been left unable to leave her home. She wanted to buy the bread and take the opportunity to take a walk around the neighborhood. However, the small elevator in the building was damaged and Petra did not dare go down the stairs with her bad knee, according to Bautista. It had been two days without going out and that made her a little sad.
At that moment, Bautista went down to the post and found her on the landing. He offered to go shopping for her, but the reality is that the bread was just an excuse to go out and get some air. Baptist, realizing the situation, invited her to go up to her house and peek out her balcony for a while. Petra lives in a very humble apartment that has no windows to the outside, so she could not reject her neighbor's proposal.
Petra López was the caretaker of the building for many years and knows all the residents of the street. She remembers them because of the type of plants and pots they have on their balconies. "You know that that balcony has withered plants because the bug killed that couple who lived alone," López told Bautista.
At that time, Bautista did not pay much attention to him, but it was agreed that a few weeks ago he saw a sanitary device on his balcony with professionals dressed in protective equipment arriving at that portal. Until then I had not connected both events. Now everything fell into place.
That day, after her neighbor told her many stories from a lifetime in the neighborhood, Bautista returned to his job as a contributing journalist for The New York Times and forgot about that balcony. On Saturday he went out to the field with his family and on Sunday when he returned he looked out on his balcony, which is adorned with plants that López has given him. It is not clear if it was the nostalgia for the black sky that announced a storm or remembering everything we have experienced in these last months, during the confinement, but he remembered the story López had told him about the couple and he looked again that desolate balcony. He decided to take a photo of the awning halfway down and hit by the rain, the pots that hold the withered leaves of what were recently plants full of life.
Bautista explains that he lives in an area where many older people live. Everyone knows each other. "The one in the bar downstairs gives us takeaway food on the premises' own plates," he says. He considers that this type of neighbors no longer remain in the central neighborhoods of Madrid, harassed by gentrification and tourist flats. Bautista moved to the neighborhood in October last year and lives very happy with his decision.
"Many older neighbors have silently suffered confinement, without being able to leave the house, without a balcony to take care of, or any family member to ask for help," says Bautista. "They are much more aware of the gravity of what is happening than many of us," he says.
There are many reasons to be sad but also to continue applauding and keeping precautions. On this street at 8pm they continue to look out onto the balcony to the perretes. The end of today's applause: pic.twitter.com/GjRjTCyCm5
- José Ant Bautista (@JoseAntonio_BG) June 8, 2020And some days, at 8:30 pm too. Today: pic.twitter.com/8TRodESsEv
- José Ant Bautista (@JoseAntonio_BG) June 8, 2020In their street they continue to meet on the balconies every day at 8:00 pm to applaud. "We also applaud at 20:30 for the toilets in a small health center just below the wilted balcony," he says. At 21.00 only a saucepan sounds. "It reminds me that it's time to start preparing dinner," says Bautista with a laugh.
The photo for Bautista is a reminder so that we do not forget everything we have had to go through and act responsibly now that we are starting to take to the streets again. "The confinement has united us as a neighborhood and now the scars of the pandemic are becoming more and more visible," he concludes.
* You can also follow us on Instagram and Flipboard. Don't miss the best of Verne!