Part of the fascination of travel and expat living is the
way everyday events and objects shift ever-so-slightly off center, the way
local customs brush up against familiar experience. Bangkok is very westernized, and I’ve found
it quite easy to acclimate here. But
there are of course significantly different currents that run through this city
compared to those that run through Taipei or New York. One striking difference is in the
form of
government. I haven’t spent much time
living and/or traveling in constitutional monarchies, and I’ve certainly never
been to one whose citizens are quite as devoted to their royal family as
Thailand’s. Of course I couldn’t help
but notice the ubiquitous ceremonial photos.
And I arrived with full knowledge that insulting the King can result in
jail time. But I was not aware of the
ways the reverence of the monarchy extends to daily life. Go to see any movie in Bangkok and before the
start of the feature (and after the requisite half hour of previews) the whole
theatre must stand for the Thai Royal Anthem and a brief montage celebrating
the King’s life and good works. And by
“must stand” I mean, it’s against the law not to. As in, illegal. Like, jail.
Okay, I jest. I don’t really
think that cops will run into a theater and arrest all the people declining to
stand out of sheer laziness or perhaps protest. But the threat still humorously
hangs in the air. During a recent movie
attended by 99% foreigners, at the start of the anthem we all kind of looked
around sheepishly and stood anyway, I can only assume out of fear of the Thai
prison system. I mean, how good can the
curry there be, really?
My favorite Monarchy Moment, however, first occurred during
my evening run in Lumphini Park.
Lumphini is a lovely, small park about a 15 minute walk from my hotel
(yes, I live in a hotel. And yes, this
makes me as romantically refined as any 1920’s European expat or Wes Anderson
character.) Okay, to be fair, Lumphini
is actually the largest park in Bangkok, but I can’t help judging all urban
green space on a scale of 1 to Central Park.
Everything else seems quaint.
Anyway, New York biases aside, the park is delightful and frequented by
joggers, frenetic aerobics enthusiasts, and monitor lizards (fun fact: the Thai
word for monitor lizard is almost identical to a vulgar Thai insult. And yes, when trying to learn the word for
monitor lizard I accidentally used the insult.
Loudly. In front of
children. Damn you tonal languages! Why must you frustrate me so?!)
I try to plan my jogs after dark, usually around 7pm, since
running in the Bangkok sun turns me into a sweaty hippopotamus. On this particular run, however, I found
myself midway through the park around 6pm.
I was happily sweating up a storm to the dulcet sounds of the Beastie
Boys, when I noticed that the guy running in front of me had just come to an
abrupt halt. Not too unusual, running
makes people tired. Then I noticed the guys around him had stopped as
well. Kind of strange, but I justified
it by assuming they were a well-oiled Muay Thai machine, and that Muay Thai
training involved sudden coordinated stops while jogging. I kept running. And finally I noticed that everyone had stopped running, and it’s
just me jogging through a garden of Thai statues. My first thought? It’s another coup! Which somehow necessitates the immediate
cessation of all running activities! At
this point I took off my headphones and was greeted by the strains of the
National Anthem. Suddenly it was all so
clear. We were having a Monarchy
Moment! As a matter of fact, this is a
twice daily occurrence: at 8am and 6pm all people in public spaces must stand
in respectful silence for the duration of the anthem. Or they get arrested. Nah, I’m just kidding. I think my chances of imprisonment are
really, really low.
Other than my occasional flirtations with the Thai justice
system, my main fish-out-of-water moment comes every time I try to pass
somebody on the right. They drive on the
left here, and I guess that spills over into foot traffic as well, seeing as
how I have near collisions at least three times a day. It occurs as follows: we do a little dance as
I try to assert my individuality and pass on the right, the other person looks
at me like I have 12 sweaty foreigner heads, and then I meekly move to the left
and go about my business.
And of course, I continue to be stymied by the hunt for good
bras and deodorant. But that may be a
battle I never win.
Stay tuned for overly enthusiastic descriptions of the food!
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