Standard Samoan bingo has been in decline for sometime- and the effect on the retailers of ultra-fat highlighters has been dire. But de-fun-dont-stay-done-long up here and since earlier this year it appears* that the Samoan Bingo Retailers Association, the WHO (not the band who should- nay must- remain in obscurity...but the World Health Organisation), Aedes aegypti and Aedes albopictus (the parasitic not so high flyers who bought us all the fun of malaria and dengue fever), and a bunch of people who really wanted a week off, combined to bring to Samoa and a large part of the equatorial globe the brand new game everyone can play, and everybody seems to be playing… Chikungunya bingo.
With a simple set of symptoms, no known treatment and no way of preventing infection- anyone with skin can get involved. Just exit the house in daytime, expose a a well formed ankle, and wait for the kiss of Aedes or Aedes (once you’ve played you’ll be on a first name basis)…and then hang about waiting for the fun to start.
If you suddenly begin to experience cold shivers in the 30 degree light of day, and really want to lie down under a duvet…you’re on your way, and can tick off symptom one.
As the cold becomes hot again, but doesn’t stop at your normal 37.5 degree body temperature, instead revving your engine up to around 39 degrees, so that bits of your brain are starting to make not very funny comments about other bits of your brain, and you’re sweating and shaking like a Neil Diamond impressionist…well, cross off another a symptom, and cross your fingers while you can cause you won't be able to tomorrow.
30-48 hours later, if you’re swaying slightly next to the washing machine- waiting to recover your previously sweat soaked sheets and wondering where enough salt water could have come from to leave the entire bed in a state where you could farm mackerel…your bingo alert bell should be ringing, but it’s probably just your ears.
If your shoulders won’t allow you to reach up and peg your sheets to the line because you’ve developed the kind of arthritis that makes you crave a copper bangle, a flat in Noosa, and at least 2 fewer limbs…Chikun-bingo glory is almost upon you.
But only, finally, when you wake up a morning later, and stumble into the bathroom like you’ve got Parkinson’s because your feet are suddenly and painfully confused as to why they have arches, to discover large pink welts drawn across significant portions of your body…can you be sure, can you fully appreciate the irony, that you’ve hit solid Chikun-bingo-gold. The final fat pink highlighter of congratulations from the Samoan Bingo Retailers Association - a bunch of no-harm goodtimers with the kind of sense of humour that can only be treated with paracetomol and fluids.
As the cold becomes hot again, but doesn’t stop at your normal 37.5 degree body temperature, instead revving your engine up to around 39 degrees, so that bits of your brain are starting to make not very funny comments about other bits of your brain, and you’re sweating and shaking like a Neil Diamond impressionist…well, cross off another a symptom, and cross your fingers while you can cause you won't be able to tomorrow.
30-48 hours later, if you’re swaying slightly next to the washing machine- waiting to recover your previously sweat soaked sheets and wondering where enough salt water could have come from to leave the entire bed in a state where you could farm mackerel…your bingo alert bell should be ringing, but it’s probably just your ears.
If your shoulders won’t allow you to reach up and peg your sheets to the line because you’ve developed the kind of arthritis that makes you crave a copper bangle, a flat in Noosa, and at least 2 fewer limbs…Chikun-bingo glory is almost upon you.
But only, finally, when you wake up a morning later, and stumble into the bathroom like you’ve got Parkinson’s because your feet are suddenly and painfully confused as to why they have arches, to discover large pink welts drawn across significant portions of your body…can you be sure, can you fully appreciate the irony, that you’ve hit solid Chikun-bingo-gold. The final fat pink highlighter of congratulations from the Samoan Bingo Retailers Association - a bunch of no-harm goodtimers with the kind of sense of humour that can only be treated with paracetomol and fluids.
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs327/en/
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