Last week, I had a sore throat, fever, cough, and fatigue - the four horsemen of apocalypse. I was going ‘no no no don’t you do this to me, I have a wedding to shoot this weekend, don’t you dare. After New Zealand, Singapore, three years of false alarms, and now you visit me?’
It was negative.
Another false alarm.
Weddings were documented, family portraits captured, and I lived to complain another day.
Seriously, at this point, who hasn’t had COVID right? What else can I do apart from putting my mask on, taking Vitamin Ds, and brisk walking for cardio?
Hana and I have been learning how to roller skate. It’s quite hard to lose friction in life. YouTube videos taught me to always look forward, not down. There’s a metaphor in here somewhere. When you grow up, without your parents nagging you, with all the freedom, you better not be caught looking down.
Of course, she falls down. But she’s tiny, which means she gets up easier too.
“Dad, my legs are tired,” she said.
Of course, darling. We’ve been using our core strength, and the roller skates are like heavy, we’ve been lifting weights for the last few days.
It’s ok, I said. Soon we’ll go to a beach house in Sorrento, then camping in Walkerville, then we’re off to Fukuoka to see jijibaba. Let me finish this shoot on Monday and Tuesday and we can say goodbye to 2022.
The next day, I tested positive.
It’s amazing how flexible the brain is.
Before COVID, I thought I was chosen by evolution to fight the world. What great genes I have. What filthy animals are out there exposing viruses to each other. No consideration.
And then after COVID, in a blink of an eye - acceptance.
It’s bound to happen. We’ve dodged this bullet long enough. Better to get it now than later at Japan. It’s just a normal virus now, right? Do we even need to tell anyone? Is it 7 days, or until the RAT says negative?
The lies we tell ourselves.
This is also the closest I get to being pregnant because you try to trace back who is the ‘father’ of the virus, and then you realised, oh, forgive me father for I have sinned. Sinned with one, four, five, hundred and fifty, forty-five, twenty-three people over different locations for the last five days. Did I clean myself after? I don’t remember. The father could be anyone.
People like to say the youngest in the family is the spoilt baby. Allow me to argue for all the youngest siblings around the world - the lack of surprise.
When my first cousin went to the states for university, the whole extended family came to see him off. From different states, before they built proper highway, before the airport was near the F1 tracks. People came and shook his hands and wished him well, like NASA seeing Neil Armstrong off to the moon.
When it was my time to leave for uni, I had … my parents.
Because by then everyone’s gone overseas, everyone’s seen enough farewells.
This positive RAT test is the same.
Everyone is James Franco, asking me ‘first time?’
As I lie on the bed, inhaling this big turd life has dumped into my face, I can’t help but to realise:
COVID is also death.
Run, run, as fast as you can, eventually, it’ll catch you.
But unlike death, (maybe) you get a second chance.
So when everyone is back from death, they will realise, you can’t take money with you when you die.
Also, you can’t take debt with you when. you die.
That explains why everyone is spending business-class money on budget airlines at the moment.
Because COVID survivors are buddhas - they have seen through the emptiness of the material world. What is money, but a token to exchange for experiences?
To witness the cherry blossom in Kyoto.
Messi holding the world cup trophy in Qatar.
Cheap beer and prostitutes in Bali?
This is all a fever rant to distract me from the guilt.
The guilt of exposing the virus to my family.
On day four, despite my isolation the room, my wife tested positive.
So I don’t have to isolate myself anymore.
I started cleaning the house as she rests.
Hana and I wiped the floor.
And food, I need to cook food based on her grocery yesterday.
There’s chicken.
So I made chicken soup.
Enter Samgye-tang.
It’s nothing fancy, just ginseng chicken soup, pronounced in Korean.
They sell soup packs in Asian groceries.
I tossed the pack into a pot, add a whole chicken (I use chicken thighs), and cook for 2 hours (or pressure cook 20-30 minutes).
Add rice, noodles, whatever vegetables your family will like.
Adjust seasoning with soy sauce, salt, sugar.
The least I could do.
Old Man Sai Strikes Again.
Right after I tested positive, I also found out that Paula from Stained Page News has featured me on her list of ‘11 Cookbook Recipes I Make Again and Again’, ahead of Ottolenghi and James Beard, and pushed my total subscribers to over 1k.
I don’t know if you’ve tried feeling happy while having COVID, it’s a very confusing feeling.
For the newcomers, sorry your first impression of me is a fever dream rant.
I’m usually less coherent.
However, this rant is not over.
If you’re in Melbourne, please do what I wanted to do on Tuesday.
My plan for Tuesday was to pick Hana up from her last day of school, and head to Little Cardigan at 38 Breese Street, Brunswick.
My friend Satoshi’s bakery is finally up and running. It’s so new that they don’t have a proper website yet.
He’s the guy who literally opened the shokupan market in Melbourne. He was the head baker at Loafers Bread in Fitzroy North, made the bread at Saint Dreux, consulted the guys at Le Bajo, pretty sure Quentin’s ‘sourdough shokupan’ idea came from him too. Now you can see him in action behind glass walls.
Please do not tap on the window and scare him.
While you’re there, grab a bag of the Ethopian Gololcha. I was fooling around during the launch the party and somehow made a ridiculously good pot of filter coffee. (They had really cool grinder, scale, and kettle so there’s that too.)
Ok, that’s about it for now.
I planned to organise a meet-up between 27-30th Dec again, but life just threw a big dump on me, so I’ll see how I go.
Maybe when I see you next, I’ll be in Japan.
This holiday, remember to:
stay positive, test negative.
I just got Covid for the first time 2 weeks ago. I’m still salty about it and my taste buds have not fully recovered. I hope you feel better soon.