Masking the problem

The man opposite me on the metro sneezed and coughed violently before whipping a disposable mask from his pocket and placing it over his nose and mouth, covering the offending orifices.  Job done, he sat back and continued reading his daily tabloid.

This is in stark contrast to Vietnam, where people cough and sneeze freely in public, never giving a passing thought to the fact it may be hygienic and considerate of them to cover their mouth and nose, preferably with a tissue or other suitable receptacle.  Masks in ‘Nam are instead worn whilst driving to protect from the sun’s harmful rays and lessen the effect of traffic pollution inhalation.

In ‘Nam, I wore a face mask during longer xe-om journeys, maybe it was a placebo effect but I felt it helped a little.  Here, however, I’m not so keen on the idea of wearing a mask as a way of advertising I’m currently a carrier for whatever nasty strain of bug is doing the rounds in our school.  To me it seems a little extreme and as I get stared at enough in public here I’m not about to do something that I think would draw any more attention my way. “Hey, look at me! I’m a germ harbouring westerner here to give you all my dirty germs and test your immune systems!”  No thanks.

Last week, I shared a metro carriage with an individual who chose to wear what can only be described as a Darth Vader–style industrial face mask.  I’ve since discovered these contain carbon filters to remove of a wide variety of contaminants, bad odours and organic vapours.  We were travelling in the late evening, on what had been a relatively cool day.  The air seemed cleaner than usual and humidity levels were low thanks to a few scattered showers throughout the course of the day.  It was far from rush hour on the metro and the bad odours were minimal as the weather isn’t yet hot enough to cause profuse perspiration, so the mask seemed a little extreme.  It did serve one wonderful purpose – giving the locals something more interesting than me to stare at during their journey home!

A xx