Normally, my room is cleaned twice a day by Achmad and Yudith, two Indonesian people in their twenties. Achmad is the very definition of mild-mannered, and Yudith, while there is an underlying steel in her spine, probably a defensive necessity because she is gorgeous, has a bright cheerful smile. Both of them strive to be as inconspicuously amiable as possible, given that they have to invade people's space mornings and evenings and deal with personal detritus.
But once I was put into isolation, no more Achmad and Yudith. Now it was a 3-man crew whose names I never heard. Headed by a grim man in officer's uniform, they wore plastic aprons, rubber gloves, and face masks, and I think they brought with them twice as much stuff as Achmad and Yudith. They removed every towel, including the folded-towel gorilla that has been danglng from a hanger on my picture frame for weeks. They sprayed something on my rug from a container that looked like it might contain a particularly effective bug spray. All in all, it was a very impressive display.
But I had to wonder. Anything I might be carrying is mainly carried by me personally. I can recontaminate anything they decontamination with a mere breath for the next two months, and then with me out of the way, they can and hopefully will do a thorough decontamination before the next passenger(s) move into Stateroom 3378.
So this procedure is not to protect me. Having thought about it a bit, I am forced to the conclusion that it's for Achmad and Yudith. If I had something contagious, what better carrier of that contagion than people who go in and out of 30 cabins every day?
I am out of isolation now, so apparently no more face masks and bug spray. But they sure were scary. I'll be glad to have Achmad and Yudith back this evening.
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