CSI: American Carnage (Wednesday, April 15, 2020)

CSI: American Carnage (Wednesday, April 15, 2020)

EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE!

[GUEST EDITORS’ NOTE: Here in Amerika, we are not alone in battling COVID-19—our brilliant enemy, the germ with a genius so great that even antibiotics are stymied [not least because viruses aren’t affected by antibiotics.] Take heart, fellow citizens, CSI’s worldwide correspondents, hunkered in their bunkers, are nonetheless observing our plight with shock and awe.]

Worldwide Weekend Roundup:

A CSI: American Carnage special report!

“Amber, here, reporting from the rooftop terrace of the Tara Niwas Hotel, in the heart of Jaipur, India. Rather sick of dal and rice, if truth be told, and missing my daily pint, since the Tara Niwas is not only veg-only but also non-booze. Been sneaking out about once a week after dark to the Krishna Palace, across the Circle, for a grilled cheese, French fries and an illicit Kingfisher on the owner’s fourth-floor balcony. The bright spot is that India’s crazy traffic is way down, so I don’t risk death by tuk-tuk as I hotfoot it to the Palace and back. I’m on a wait list for a relief flight out of Delhi but it’s been three weeks, and no word on availability. Meanwhile, foreigners are taking the rap for bringing the coronavirus to India, so I’m staying off the streets. Never thought I’d be practicing purdah, but there you go.

“The lockdown here is brutal. The PM and great friend of President Trump [even though the Prez didn’t eat anything served on his visit in February] shut down transportation with four hours notice. Decisive? You bet! A pretty good percentage of India’s billion people only make enough for that day’s food, so a bunch—a very big bunch—are walking to their home villages. And let me tell you, it’s not easy to cover hundreds of miles walking in rubber flip flops. I guess a lot of them are racing time, hoping to get home before they run out of chapatis. Meanwhile, you can’t pick up the telephone and make a call without first listening to a public health announcement that starts with the sound of a Covid-19 cough.

“Enough about India. Everyone here is worried sick about U.S. friends. We’re hearing terrible, terrible news—doctors and nurses wearing garbage bags, dead people in refrigerator trucks, no toilet paper [has no one heard of a bidet attachment?], long lines at food banks, and pornographic Zoom-bombing. I’ve personally been told of double lines, a mile long, at In ’n Out Burgers up and down the California coast. Dithering, delays and chicanery in D.C. Friends, these things are not unusual or unlikely in India. But we expected more from America.”

Next week, reporting from Melody in Taipei.