A shift

Flu-like symptoms
I realised just yesterday that I couldn’t remember the last time I had been rudely awoken by that godforsaken rooster next door, and that made me stop for a bit, because you know what? The rooster is dead. The rooster got bird flu, along with thousands of other fowl throughout the city. Seven of the nine districts in Vientiane had outbreaks in the last couple of months, and two people have died- officially, that is. Of course, rumour has it that people have been dying of it all over the shop in Lao hospitals, and we only got to hear about any of it when one of the patient’s families took a stand and sent her to Thailand for treatment. A 15-year-old girl. She died a couple of weeks later.

So anyway, the Lao government has announced a ban on poultry- every bird in the city will be culled, there will be no more chicken - or eggs!! - on the menu. I guess they figure it’s the only way- maybe it is. But all these people who rely on their chickens to live! Understandably, people have been hiding their chickens and releasing their caged birds- anything to avoid the authorities who, if they ever cough up, will only compensate 60 percent of what they think the birds are worth. So on today’s front page- painstakingly edited last night by yours truly- the government has made another announcement- anyone who doesn’t cooperate with authorities will be regarded as a criminal and promptly arrested.
Rooster or no rooster, it’s all a bloody debacle.

Food for thought
You know there’s been a shift when you realise it’s western food now that makes you sick. Housemate Sophie’s parents were here a couple of weeks ago, and took us to Le Cave des Chateaux, one of the posh French restaurants in the centre of town. Fish, potatoes, brie, creamy sauce, no sleep for me that night. A few nights later, I gave into a week-long craving for lasagne, and again I suffered.
But I can gorge myself on Lao food- the sticky rice that once made me feel so bloated, and all the soup and meat and innards and sauces that go along with it- and feel nothing but sated.

Related is the fact that I have lost a fair bit of weight since I was back in Aus last year. I only know this because I visited a doctor in Bangkok a couple of weeks ago, and pre-consultation, the nurse weighed me. Actually, to be honest, there was a fancy set of scales in the fancy apartment in the fancy hotel where the insurance company had put me up (see pic), so I had already weighed myself the night before.
Inexplicable, but maybe just a sign of slipping into a comfort zone, finally. I always did take my time about things.

Queen of Asia
Anyway, Bangkok: always such a shock to find yourself in the centre of things again. Confusing- massive malls and freeways and hotels and the Skytrain. Is it real? All these shops selling so much stuff. It makes me wonder what goes on behind it all- what people who live there do other than shop. Of course, Bangkok is massive, and edgy- there would be all kinds of things happening every day there- art and movies and music and bars and drinking, etc- but I can’t see them for the shops.
The shops! I spent a happy weekend alone in the city, learning the train system, walking the streets, prowling the department stores and splurging on cheap clothes (I’ll never be able to shop seriously in Aus again, let’s face it), and moisturiser from Boots, and underwear, and mascara. All that stuff that doesn’t cut it over here. Makes you appreciate retail therapy all the more. I bought a dress, a handmade necklace, some tops for work, a Salvatore Ferragamo knock-off handbag, a Toni & Guy haircut. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Oh yeah, and I went to the doctor as well. Rushing back from Thailand in January to the Island’s mother’s bedside, I pinched a nerve in my shoulder, and for more than a month after, my left arm was completely numb. Call me a hypochondriac, but that’s weird, and maybe cause for concern, no? So I went to the doctor, who was slightly more concerned than I would have liked. Anyway, to cut a long story short, before too long, I found myself heading to Bangkok to see a neurologist. After lots of tests, including some intensely unpleasant electric shocks in my arm to test my reflexes, the x-rays showed bruising on the nerve, and I was prescribed a whole pile of things, including muscle relaxants and multi-vitamins.

[Side note- I wrote to my friend Emma Caine in Melbourne recently to tell her about this, because she was the one I was thinking of as I sat in the hospital feeling like a fool. I knew she would have understood. I knew she would be behind me 100 percent.
‘Muscle relaxants!’ she wrote back. ‘My drug of choice!’]

Holy cow
Our house had a party last month. A seriously big party- actually, it was three parties in one night, with three separate themes, and people were allocated their theme on the invitation and the locations were all a secret. It sounds ridiculously over the top, but you come to realise after a while that if you want to throw a party that will actually be remembered, you have to go all out. Anything else will just be some party.
Anyway, I’m not going to go into it, except to say that people did remember it, and still do, and although I didn’t have much to do with the organising, the Island and I did manage to procure a cow- a live, gentle moo-cow to work as a prop for our house's Bollywood theme, and that went down a treat, strangely.

Unchartered territory
Recently, I found some photos I’d forgotten I had of Warm House- from the baci the family threw last year when she was healthy again. My parents were there, and got to see a real live baci in action, which I was glad of. Anyway, I had forgotten how pretty she was back then. I had the photos printed, along with the ones I took of her on New Year’s Eve when all the sons were home, about two weeks before she died. I gave them to the Island’s father, and at first, I thought he was angry with me, for some reason. I thought I’d done the wrong thing. He stared at the photos so hard and didn’t say anything. But I soon realised it was because he too had forgotten how much she had changed over the year, and how thin and ill she was at the end. He was happy with the photos, poring over the baci pic of her wearing a rose-coloured silk top, with her hair all glossy. The family doesn’t have a camera, and so never have the chance to appraise their own appearances. It was nice to give him something to remember her by, from when she wasn’t sick, but smiled all the time instead.

Stubborn child
Cristy and Paul’s baby is well overdue now. We were talking about them last night at dinner, so hopefully our chatter and thoughts might have been carried across the ocean to Canberra to try and coax the little bugger out.
It must be so frustrating for them- I can’t even imagine. More than a week late, now, and poor Cristy’s been doing all sorts of nutty things like cleaning out cupboards and organising files and touching up her thesis even though she’s on maternity leave. I know Cristy. I know what this means. Actually, what am I saying? It’s not nutty at all, what she’s doing. It’s exactly what she does when she’s waiting for something important.
I’m just dying to find out what it’s like- she’s my first close friend to get knocked up. And also- what the hell will they call it? They’re keeping mum about that, so to speak.

So too are my very own brother and sister-in-law, who are five weeks away from popping another. And that one, I'll even be related to!

I feel like I should be back in Aus this month.

Aimless
Anyway, I’ve been getting so intensely frustrated at work that I’ve become aimless. I haven’t even been going out that much- just spending my weekends doing the sorts of things you do to make up for boredom and aimlessness. Or to make up for having regretfully opted out of another Thai shopping trip to Udon Thani last weekend. Had my bike cleaned (just 5000 kip! I love my bike now, more every time I clean it), bought a couple of new sinhs from the market for exactly half what I would have paid this time last year when I knew nothing about how the market system works, read the Bangkok Post in hard copy, ate dinner late on Saturday night on the street outside V-Shop- the Lao branch of the 7-11 world franchise.

Also, not to get all tiresome, but I’d like to point out that tomorrow is mine and the Island’s one-year anniversary.
See, why this despondency? Out I say!