The Plague

We had a meeting today to discuss possible school closure due to swine flu. This meeting took considerably longer than usual on account of having to pause every time the roll o' thunder that is my horrific hacking cough emanated from my mouth. After reviewing a comprehensive list of swine flu symptoms, my coworkers eyed me suspiciously and then suggested that I go see the doctor. While backing away slowly. And spraying the air around me with disinfectant.

No worries...there is no swine flu wreaking havoc on my immune system. Just your garden variety chest infection. In any case I've been ordered to wear a medical mask whenever I venture out in public and the doctor gave me a nifty stay-at-home note that I cashed in for the afternoon. I'm supposed to stay at home tomorrow also, but sadly there is just no time for that. In any case, it is an interesting experience walking around in a mask while hacking violently. People give you a wide berth. As I was walking through the breezeway of my condo behind another woman (and, of course, coughing with great alacrity), she turned around to check whether it was a human or a wild boar behind her, and when she saw my mask her eyes became saucers and she stepped up the pace. That is not a reaction that I am used to receiving, and the fact that I was able to make a Thai person increase her gait means that I am probably pretty as a postcard right about now. This comes just after my face has finished healing from getting my freckle infestation lasered off two weeks ago (I'll post pictures soon...it was totally gnarly....). So I can't quite get a break.

In other news, this past weekend found me on a wild goose chase for belly dance costumage, yay for sparkly metal bras and beaded skirts, to a place that my belly dance teacher called "Nana Plaza." I found a place called "Nana Square," and I did not see a belly dance costume shop there (though it's possible it was closed). I asked around, but of course, no one had any idea what I was saying, and gesturing to my undulating belly was not helping matters either. I finally found someone who spoke a little English, and I asked where Nana Plaza was, as surely I must not be in the correct place if my store was not here. She took me outside and pointed across the street. "Nana Plaza is there, behind the Singha sign. But," she said as she placed a well-meaning hand on my shoulder, "I don't think you will find your store there." I just chalked it up to the language barrier, thanked her, and let my optimism be my guide.

Nana Plaza is not a place you want to be. It is filled with bars, which are filled with creepy farang men and neon signs flashing "pretty pretty lady," and "strip show," and there are stilettos and skirts hiked up around the hoo ha as far as the eye can see, and seedy rooms with darkened windows above the whole electric scene. I became disoriented and sunk mid-calf into a puddle of filthy rainwater. Yeah, there was clearly not a belly dance costume shop in sight, though I can understand why the undulating belly would have confused people as to my intention.

It never ceases to amaze me how Bangkok can be so painfully beautiful until you make a wrong turn, and BAM! Its unsavory underbelly rolls over and suns itself. This place is filled with endless nooks and crannies, endless mystery, endless things to see. There are so many incredible, incredible details. Girly bars notwithstanding, I am going to miss these details tremendously.