When you go on vacation, there’s always the excitement of what you’re going to see and do while you’re there…the monuments, the culture, the shopping, and the food.
What made our recent trip to Bangkok unique was, of course, all of those, but with an extra dimension: what had happened before we arrived.
Let me provide a little context.
Like the US, the Thai people have two legislative houses, a Senate and a House of Representatives. However, unlike the US, Thailand is a constitutional monarchy. This means the the king is the head of state, and the prime minister is the head of the government.
And while a number of countries currently have monarchies–43, at last count–few if any have a queen who was as beloved as Queen Mother Sirikit, who died at age 93 last October, just two months prior to our December visit.
She was married to Thailand’s king for more than 60 years. (He died in 2016.) In the 1960s, she was considered an international style icon by the world’s media. For the duration of her reign, she was considered the Mother of the Nation by the Thai people. Accordingly, they honored her in 1976 by declaring that Mother’s Day in Thailand would be celebrated on August 12, her birthday.
Like many royals, she championed environmental causes and supported charities. Unlike many royals, she did the uncomfortable, attending the 2008 funeral of an anti-government protester who was killed by police. In good times and bad, she was there for her people. And they adored her.
Prior to our visit, my wife and I were made aware that the period of mourning following her death might mean a different travel experience for us. Some businesses might be closed certain days, out of respect or in recognition of official ceremonies taking place. The party scene that Bangkok is famous (or infamous) for would be toned down for awhile. The people might be not quite as jovial as they otherwise might be. And we, as tourists, should be respectful and mindful of the situation.
We considered cancelling our travel plans, then decided against it. I’m glad we did.
While we found the legendary hospitality of the Thai people in full bloom, we did have a few very interesting–and touching–experiences. Black fabric draped the gates to government buildings, which was expected.
Large portraits of the queen, framed with garlands, hung at the entrances of boutiques, banks, and bakeries, many with bouquets of fresh flowers that had been laid on the ground beneath them, seemingly on a daily basis.
While visiting the Royal Palace and temples, we observed groups of women dressed in black. They would approach an altar, light a candle, and say a prayer. Many in tears, all feeling the loss. A few wore cameos pinned to their lapels, the queen’s likeness appearing on them.
Perhaps the most touching was a New Year’s Day broadcast on Thai television. While I couldn’t follow what the newscaster was saying because I don’t speak Thai, I felt the power what I was watching.
The royal family and high-ranking members of the government had assembled in the palace. A ceremony was in progress. Brief, solemn speeches were made. Comforting words were spoken. Respects were paid.
At the end of the proceedings, a muscular, leather-faced Thai general made his way down the aisle, a bouquet of flowers in hand. He stopped, knelt, and placed the bouquet on the carpet in front of two empty thrones.
His manner was, like his uniform, crisp. He appeared to be the very definition of discipline and duty. And I suspect he intended to stand, perhaps salute, and return to his seat, but he paused.
Emotion, that cunning adversary that catches all of us off guard at the most inopportune moments, ambushed him. He inhaled quickly, trying to compose himself, but a rush of crimson flooded his face. And then a single tear tumbled down his cheek.
He had, I realized, lost his mother.
- BGT
This is the first thing you’ve written that made me tear up.