The covid situation remains alarming. I long for the week when I won't have to say this. I wonder if that week will ever come.

Some snippets:

Monday 16
Sarawak, though vaccinating mightily, is not out of the woods. We've seen a decrease in hospital admissions, ICU cases, and deaths, but infections have been on the rise since mid-July.

Wednesday 18
Another daily record for Malaysia, with 22,242 cases. It's worrying, says Health Director-General Tan Sri Dr Noor Hisham Abdullah.

Thursday 19
Wednesday's record didn't hold for long. Thursday's cases weighed in at 22,948. Total deaths to date: a very sad 13,480. Meanwhile, the national government is loosening up on the restrictions. Go figure... You couldn't put it much more starkly than the Health DG: "A reminder to all, many places are opening because of the economy, and not because it is safe."

Friday 20
Thursday's record didn't hold for long either. Today's cases: 23,564... And in Sarawak, we notched up a record-shattering 2,548.

(POSTSCRIPT 21 August: In response to the truly alarming figures in our part of Sarawak, the authorities are reintroducing a dine-in ban and a 10-5 curfew for the week starting Sunday. I'm glad to see our local powers-that-be having the courage to backtrack, as opposed to plunging blindly on. Whether these measures will make a difference, though, when so much else remains open, remains to be seen.)


Yesterday, the ever-climbing case numbers, and my ever-increasing fear -- terror, actually -- of testing covid positive, and being hauled off to some mass quarantine Camp Granada, there to live cheek by jowl in a vast dormitory with God knows how many other people, sent me into another of my periodic "why did we come back?" funks.

This is the way my own personal pandemic fatigue manifests itself, I think.

So, by way of counterbalance, here's a list of the things I love at the moment:

1. Mornings on the balcony. Maybe there's a moon, or a tongue of lightning or three. If it's been raining, there are frogs, making three distinct layers of sound. The bass is provided by the bullfrogs. The treble is done by the frogs that sound like maracas. Filling in the middle are the frogs that sound like sheep. Baaa, baaa... At five o'clock there are three dings from the local monastery. At half past five, the call to prayer sounds from multiple mosques. Often there's been chanting for a little while before that. Later, the birds get up. I don't know the names of any of them. To us, they're twittery-twittery-twittery birds (always the first, with their frilly little sound), ooh-ooh birds, snorey birds, squeaky-toddler-shoe birds... Oh, and sometimes the exotic mynahs. Most mynahs we know sound as though they've learnt their calls from arcade games. But some mynahs -- and we've personally verified this -- do really beautiful, opera-worthy warbles.

2. In a category of their own, water hens. They scuttle beautifully, their little brown rumps bobbing. And you often hear them chattering (squabbling?) together. They make an aqueous kind of gurgling sound, as though they're always talking through snorkels at the bottom of a swimming-pool.

3. Early-morning walks. I love seeing the city come to life. One of my former colleagues used to say that in Malaysia he always felt that he was on holiday. Nowhere in this region really feels like a holiday at the moment... But it's true that you never really outlive your sense of depaysement.





4. The river.

5. The permanent state of green-and-floweriness.

6. The smell of incense.

7. The food... The food...



8. Soon (in a category all of its own) there will be mooncakes...

All this I would/would have/will -- I'm not sure what tense to use -- miss(ed).