It took less than five minutes, from walking through the doors of Nago’s mass vaccine hall to be fed through the system, vaccine injected, and sitting for 30 minutes to see if I experience any side effects. I barely had time to sit or consider what was to come. Whiz, first hand-wash and handing over of documents and insurance card, whiz to stage number ‘2’ and further hand-washing (lots of that here) and then whiz straight through four more stages, number ‘4’ for actual injection, before finally being able to sit, read and think about having my third dose of a corona virus vaccine, and write this in a somewhat flabbergasted manner. Phew. It was fast. So fast my wife was only just now texting to check if I’d been able to find the vaccination site without any problems (me being a foreign dope, and all that). At no point before this had I even had time for my rear to make a meaningful acquaintance with any of the foldable chairs I’d been directed to. So fast, I didn’t even manage to get my book open (actually, my Kindle). So fast I didn’t get time to think about how much I hate needles.
Should I sing the praises of Japanese efficiency, or is this normal? Do other countries’ mass vaccinations go this smoothly? While I write this, orange-bibbed staff – student volunteers, or coerced civil servants? – loiter in disproportionate numbers with little to do accept fight over who walks an occasional vaccinee between staging posts so that everyone is fed through without waiting, ever (job number 2: alcohol-wipe a chair or other much-touched object). Perhaps they expect a rush? Or am I simply one of the lucky ones booking a less popular time, Sunday morning, for a shot of Pfizer? I know not and feel it would be too inappropriate to pester one of these not-so-busy youthful fluorescent team members.
Actually, as I left the vaccination hall, at 11.32am precisely, I did ask one of the legion of orange-highlighted humans in the hall whether those not nursing or doctoring were volunteers or students (of course I asked, I’m nosey – it’s that journalist training*). He said, personally, he was a town hall staff member but the others were students. I just hope it keeps his bosses and their lecturers happy that this is how they spend their weekend free time.
So, what did I learn from this experience? Probably nothing but it may reinforce my feeling that Japanese people are slow to make decisions but once they do, they organise very well. The government here was painfully hesitant to start any vaccination programme, so much so that they were not ready for the 2020 Olympics and the country suffered its worst spike in infection rates since the pandemic began. However, once they did decide to start vaccinating it has been pretty smooth. I had my first two shots (Moderna) in the summer after receiving my official documents in the post and, as planned, got the paperwork for the booster a few weeks ago. All I had to do was call the city hall and book the time.
In contrast to this dithering-then-efficiency pattern, my home nation works well on a kind of ‘let’s just do something and work it out as we go along’ basis. It’s a gamble that can either prove inspired, or it’s a failure of embarrassing proportions (although I don’t believe many ever own up to poor planning, unsurprisingly). Who knows which works best, but a middle ground is probably the answer.
*or are nosey people attracted to being journalists?
