National Curfew

Starting tomorrow there is a nationwide curfew in place, keeping everyone in Thailand, except absolutely necessary (mostly medical) personnel, at home from 22:00 hours to 04:00. 

And in case I haven’t mentioned it yet, the Songkran holiday season is cancelled.  This is like cancelling Christmas!  Songkran, traditional Thai New Year, is in mid-April at the absolute hottest time of the year, and celebrations include throwing water on folks to cool them down.  Usually there are massive street water-throwing parties downtown, and even here one expects some water thrown at you when out and about.  There are a number of additional holidays this month before and after Songkran, and they are often linked up to provide very long periods off from work.  So, because it is a time when schools are usually out and folks are off work anyway, it is not a time of great productivity and thus fits a bit more easily into this stay-at-home scenario. 

It's too hot to move, and yet April is only beginning.  This heat and humidity remind me of 51 years ago in my first months in Vietnam.  The first thing I noticed landing in Nam was that Marines all had green towels hanging around their necks.  Medium-sized towels, dark green.  (All our white clothing, skivvies, etc. were confiscated, and we were issued green substitutes.)  The towels were for constantly mopping up the sweat from your face and hands.  If possible, you never touched your weapon until drying your hands first.  Those days were my first experience with horrendously wicked heat and humidity – tropical hell. 

These days a sweatband – a bandana rolled up as a headband – is essential equipment for dealing with sweat when moving, both inside and outside.  If it is a long fitness walk in the neighborhood, I add to the headband a wide-brimmed hat, and of course shades.  Now, with the mandatory face mask, I must look like some cowboy outlaw. 

The neighborhood folks are almost certainly accustomed over the years to this strange old gray-beard farang alien who strides rapidly over the sidewalks several days a week.  If I were another person, I might feel uneasy about being so different, but I’m long used to being oblivious to most expectations, and marching to different drummers is second nature.  

I am 70 years old yet feel tremendously young at heart.  Aside from a somewhat aged body, I still feel like a kid.  I never grew up, and by this time I guess I never will.  What’s the point? 

-Zenwind. 

.