Look what I found under the Christmas tree!

Let’s get that free booster shot

I had recently arrived back into Chiang Mai after terminating my employment and moving out of my toxic-swamp-diarrhea-stank-apartment in Khon Kaen. While getting caught up with local news, scrolling through the expats-of-Chiang-Mai Facebook group, my eyes fell on a post about Pfizer vaccines for free, open to the public, with no appointment necessary. It was possible to get a 1st, 2nd, or booster shots, in addition to other vaccines such as Moderna or Astra Zeneca.

The author said that the entire process only took 45 minutes, but specified that he arrived before the mall opened at 11am. 

With that, I shut my laptop, grabbed my phone and passport, and walked out the door. Literally. I walked out the door and hailed a songthaew to the airport Plaza Mall. Once deposited, I realized the post did not specify where exactly the walk-in vaccination was happening. The problem is that the mall is an enormous mega-mall, encompassing four floors and most likely the same size of the nearby international airport.

At 10:30am, I thought I had timed it perfectly. There was still half-an-hour before the mall would open. The place was deserted. I walked toward Starbucks, knowing that although the mall was closed, Starbucks was opened. I figured the inner door to the mall would be open, allowing passage to the vaccination area. 

However, at the entrance of Starbucks, a Thai mall employee stopped me from proceeding further. I made the motion of injecting my upper arm and said, “Free vaccine?” She gestured for me to continue walking around the building. I turned the corner and found myself staring down a narrow and long street that opened into a mass parking lot for other stores across from the mall. There were no signs for the walk-in vaccination event. I didn’t feel like ambling down a long road to the parking lot of Baan and Beyond (a play on the store name, Bed, Bath, and Beyond. “Baan” in Thai means “house”).

Starbuck’s lady intercepts me.

I turned around and went back to Starbucks, but the lady was still there, and persistently pointed me down the street to Baan and Beyond. There happened to be a foreign woman standing nearby, so I asked her, “Do you know where to get the free vaccines?” She shook her head. I had no choice but to make the long walk down the street. At the parking lot, I saw a foreigner father with his son, and I asked them, “Do you know where to get the free vaccines?” They also shook their heads. But what were they doing at the mall before it opened, if not here for the free vaccines?

I had questions, and so I followed them through the Baan and Beyond mega-large-parking lot, passing the backside of the mall, and into the underground parking lot for the mall. I was clueless. What happens when I’m clueless is that I keep doing whatever it is I’m presently doing, until a different idea/epiphany/clue appears. This meant I kept walking in the underground parking lot.

I slipped past between parked cars. The entire lot was filled. There must’ve been a hundred cars, but the mall was closed, so I assumed all these people were here for the free vaccine. I walked past parking sections AA, AB, AC, when I saw signs of life on the opposite side of the parking lot. I approached a couple of mall employees and asked for the walk-in vaccine event. One man pointed me along. Again, more pointing. I walked to the most logical destination, to another closed door of the mall. No sign for the walk-in vaccination, no one there to help me. 

I was stuck.

I stood there for another five minutes, pondering what to do. By this time, it was nearly 11am. I would not contemplate going home though, because I knew the vaccination event was happening, I just had to find it. Standing there, sweating from wandering around in the sun, I noticed a trickled of people popping out of a narrow hallway. Curious, I approached the narrow hallway. It led to a staircase going up. I took the stairs up. It led to the 1st floor of the parking lot. I kept climbing the stairs. Predictably, it led to the 2nd floor of the parking lot. I started cursing myself—What the hell am I doing taking a tour of the parking lot levels—when I saw a crowd out the side of my eye. Throngs of people congregated in the far corner of the parking lot.

I walked toward the crowd. There was a long line that snaked through the lot. There were hundreds of people sitting on chairs, a crowd of people staring at an easel of white butcher paper in front of the mall doors, and security guards. All the signs were in Thai, but I did notice signs taped at intervals in the sea of seats: Astra Zeneca, Moderna, Pfizer.

I took my place at the end of the line.

As I advanced in the line, I saw three Thai people working the desk. When it was my turn, I explained that I had already received two shots of Pfizer in the US, and that I wanted the booster shot of Pfizer. The Thai man who processed me stamped my registration paper with bright red ink that said “Pfizer” and wrote a number in the upper right corner: 279. That was it. He waved me away and was already busy attending to the next person. 

I turned around and surveyed the area. So this was where the walk-in vaccination registration was happening; on the 2nd floor parking lot—wait for it—near Starbucks! Yes! I could have walked a mere hop-skip-and-a-jump to reach this location, but Noooo. The Thai employee pointed me the long way so that I practically circumambulated the mall as if it were a holy relic. Yes, in order to receive the holy injection. Shii.

I walked over to the paper “Pfizer” sign and took a seat. So much for getting in and out in 45 minutes. (SIGH).

Registration and waiting area at the walk-in vaccination event, taking place on the 2nd floor parking lot of airport Plaza Mall.

I wondered why people kept getting up to look at the butcher paper-on-an-easel. I got up to look at it too. In pen, someone had created three columns for Astra Zeneca, Moderna, and Pfizer. Under each column were numbers, such as 1-50, 51-100, which had been crossed out. I realized they were calling out series of numbers, rotating through the vaccine brands. They were only on 131-180 for Pfizer, so I had a long way to go until they reached 279.

Behold: butcher paper-on-an-easel.

I realized two things:

I was super thirsty from hoofing it all morning, and I had to pee. Thankfully, the mall was officially open by this time. I walked in, and found the restrooms. I located a café and bought a bottle of water. Then I spotted a Moshi Moshi and I had to go in. I am magnetically pulled to any kawaii Japanese store, and so I spent time marveling over adorable bento-boxes that I didn’t need. I resisted the urge to buy them, because I have been fooled by the kawaii-ness of useless items before. I had previously purchased cute hair-rollers, even though my hair is way too short. Sure enough, I had to toss the rollers.

I looked at my phone; an hour had passed! I rushed back to the gloomy parking lot to see where we were on the butcher paper. So low tech… . Happily, I returned just as they were calling “Pfizer 251-280”. I marched right back into the mall, but this time followed the queue to… Uniqlo.

There was another waiting area, divided into thirds, in front of Uniqlo.

No, these people are not camping out, waiting to buy the latest silk thermal underwear or knit turtlenecks in five colors. 

Christmas at the mall: Corralled into the 2nd staging area. I waited here for at least another 40 minutes. Maybe I should have shopped at Uniqlo.

We were called by numbers to register at one of these computers. I had to show my passport and my CDC card. At the far right of this photo, a woman is receiving a vaccine.

Here is a close-up: receiving a vaccine in the walkway of the mall, as shoppers pass by. I don’t think you’d ever see this in the US.

I received my 3rd shot, the booster. Then I was ushered into the 3rd staging area—the waiting area. We had to sit here for 30 minutes as an observation period in case of side effects. Pity I had slammed the entire bottle of water—my bladder was bursting.

Exit procedures left a lot to be desired.

Once I did my 30 minutes, I had to turn in my registration form which included vital information such as vaccine brand, lot#, date, and dose. I was allowed, however, to take a picture of it. Also, I was instructed to take a picture of this hand-drawn map. Perhaps it was the same person who drew the grid on the butcher paper outside. I was told to follow the map to receive my official vaccination certificate.

The map indicates “You are here” in the lower right corner, and “Chiang Mai public health” in the upper left corner. In-between are the air force buildings, the airport, a random gas station, and an un-named university. Clearly, it is not drawn to scale. So low tech. Could they not have printed out a proper map? Or shown me on my phone map, so I would know exactly where to go?

If I had known then what I know now.

The exit-lady told me to scan the QR code on my paper registration form (note: this map is drawn on the back of such a registration form because the red-ink “Pfizer” has clearly bled through), as it would produce an electronic vaccination certificate in 5-7 days. After waiting the obligatory amount of time, I opened the QR code. Unfortunately, the electronic vaccination certificate falsely states that I received Sinovac for vaccine shots #1 and #2, and Pfizer for #3. The certificate is useless to me, as was this map. 

This experience was by no means a 45 minute in-and-out adventure. I got back to my hotel a bit before 1pm; so I had spent 2.5 hours on the entire ordeal. If I had known then what I know now, I would have skipped the free vaccine and paid for a shot at a private hospital. Or better yet, get the shot for free in the US, and receive a proper certificate in hand. In this particular case, I left the mall with no proof I’d received a vaccine except for the band-aid on my arm. I’d give this free booster a miss and go straight to Moshi Moshi for kawaii goodness.