I was going to start this essay with "so far, the four-persons-per-elevator rule has made sense", but then I realized that I didn't really know what I was talking about. I can count with my fingers the number of times I have gone to our office, and in those instances I didn't really have to wait that long to ride an elevator. That mostly happens on the flat, but as people still don't leave their homes as much these days - or, really, what do I know? - there's a bigger chance you'll be inconvenienced by slow elevators than by full ones.
It doesn't mean it's always gone well, though. That said, in those instances when it doesn't, the damage is really mostly on you, and then you shake it off as a vagary of the times we live in. Yesterday I was waiting for an elevator with two more people. When one opened, I sort of rushed in, only to realize that there were two more people inside, and since I'm the fifth person, I'm the one who has to wait. "Sorry," I mumbled breathlessly, taking a split-second to get my leg out of the car and allow the doors to close. Just momentarily embarrassed, and that's about it.
This afternoon, as you'd expect, I was in an elevator, having just bought some antacids and snacks. (This, I think, says a lot about what has been going on in the past few weeks.) Being the only one inside, I was fervently hoping that no one else would come in - I mean, not that I hate people all of a sudden (or maybe I always have) but it's nice having an elevator all to yourself, your trip to an upper floor uninterrupted, and a few moments to yourself, spent thinking about almost nothing, perhaps staring at yourself in the decorative mirrors. But no. Someone was at one of the parking levels.
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I read about the protests in Bangkok last week. Monocle described it as something surprisingly predictable for Thailand: there apparently has been talk of another change of power in the country for months, and a possible window of opportunity would be on the 14th of October, when pro-democracy activists planned to take to the streets to commemorate a violent crackdown of student-led protests 47 years ago. The thinking was, those protests - and the inevitable counter-protest - would escalate into clashes, which would result in the military intervening.
Well, the protests did happen. I haven't paid attention to it - I have been on busiest season for the past three weeks, which explains the lack of entries - but I have seen some photos on social media, about Bangkok's main thoroughfares filled with protesters calling for reforms and a change of leadership. I also vaguely know of a state of emergency being imposed, and an online streaming channel being shut down, but again, it has been my busiest season. It usually happens for a week in September, but, well, this so-called new normal means a change of formats, and with even more things falling on my demoralized shoulders... but I digress.
But still, I have seen some photos on social media, and I remember this one post from an acquaintance (I think it's safe to say that) say that phrase I've learned to hate.
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By now we've more than gotten used to the additional layers of bureaucracy that comes with acting like everything is the same in these times of everything not being the same. For one, I now instinctively bring out my phone and open my camera the moment I enter the supermarket, so I can scan the QR code that leads to the online health declaration form. Yes, they want your business, now more than ever - but they also want to know that you won't be forcing them to close because of a sneeze you failed to suppress.
All this comes with a few inconveniences. For one, I am slightly annoyed that my whole address is quite long. Well, arguably that's fine, if not for the fact that my phone insists on autocorrecting everything, even if I've typed that particular sequence of characters many times before. At least some establishment allow you to shop while you're still typing (or tapping, as is more physically appropriate) your details in, although that isn't perhaps advisable since some can just, you know, not type anything in at all. The new social contract means not being as anonymous as you used to be, or hoped to be - but then, not everybody believes everybody honors those provisions, so why bother?
Perhaps more annoying, however, is how wildly inconsistent your temperature can be. We know we're not supposed to go beyond 37.5 degrees Celsius - that means you've got the beginnings of a fever, at least, and you're very much well into the path of being a pariah - but if you've been out and about enough times you realize there just doesn't seem to be a steady average for these things. Well, there used to be one: I know I'm normally in the middle of 36 degrees, give or take how hot it is outside and how much I've walked. But now, especially with face shields (still, ugh) being required to get into certain places, you get less consistent readings.
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