The things that never change
First days back in Bangkok, where much has happened since the pandemic and yet nothing has truly changed.
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The Thai Airways plane hovered over an illuminated tapestry before landing in the dark morning hours. Stepping into the terminal and already feeling the moisture in the air, I disappeared into a crowd of passengers until we were stopped and waited to get our Thailand Pass QR code scanned. Blue plastic chairs were lined up in endless rows, just in case the crowd accumulated. It was 5:30 am.
After passing customs and luggage carrousels, the arrival gate had the allure of a trade show, with unassuming “booths” representing different hotels. Dozens of hotel logos were pasted across the hand-assembled structures and it was a strange game to manage to find one’s own. Each visitor’s name was carefully listed on A4 sheets of paper and later matched with a mini van and a driver. Meanwhile, regular taxis seemed to have vanished.
I sat alone in a 9-seater vehicle, heading to a hospital to get my mandatory PCR test. The sun was rising in the distance, rapidly intensifying. After half an hour the light was already blinding, its pale dusty color washing over the street scenes that appeared in a cinematic way through the windshield. The soft light veil caressing the movements of ordinary life.
On the way out of Suvarnabhumi airport, huge billboards are standing on the edge of the highway, blank except for one with a green question mark in the middle. Its silence speaks of an uncertain post-pandemic world. Is this a blank canvas to write a new chapter upon?
Once in the city and deeper into the familiar alleys that I used to walk back and forth several years ago, Bangkok does not appear to have changed so much. Its imperfections remain as bold as ever. Construction sites are omnipresent. Street food vendors are still feeding taxi drivers and humble workers throughout the days.
Like seeing old friends again, I greeted the familiar sights, sounds, fragrance and feel of the city.
