'Mei you wei sheng zhi', says the young woman to the old one in the wheelchair, her voice muffled behind a blue surgical mask. 'There's no toilet paper.'
The old one peers up through the moist folds of her drooping eyelids, and quavers: 'are you sure? Check again.' Patiently, the voice comes again, filtered through mostly-pointless gauze: 'mei you wei sheng zhi'. It's true - the shelves are empty. No longer choosy about the brand or ply-count, people will take anything. There's only so many times you can say to each other and mutter to yourself 'this is insane'. Quite soon, we find ourselves doing what everybody else is doing, rushing to the shops in hastily-thrown-on jeans and a jumper, following a telephone tip-off, to scoop up anything tissue-related - kitchen paper will do - the instant it touches the shelf. By combining forces, we have enough to last us about 4 weeks. So this is what people do in a civilised society when panic sets in. People here are polite about it: there's no snatching, pushing, or shoving, and the glances above pale-pink and -blue masks, is an amused, wry one, marinated in shared understanding. But all are worried that what is unfolding in Singapore and rampant in China may yet break out here. Today the shortages are toilet paper and face-masks. As yet the shelves and shops are still well-stocked with fresh fruit, vegetables, meat, and eggs. Noodles are no problem. Rice is available. But this is an indication of what happens when authority meets organic crisis and finds, like Canute's foolish courtiers, that forces of nature do not respond to legislative or market imperatives. Climate negotiators, take note.
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AuthorHow to identify myself... a deeply concerned citizen of a fucked-up world, swinging with circadian regularity between esprit de vie and deep, black despair. PhD, entrepreneur, author, international experience, woman (should I add chromosomes to my list of qualifications....?) Archives
May 2020
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