Even Google Dons Black

The Thai king gained his fame by saving Thailand from communism in the 70s and then personally visiting poor villages all over the country in order to figure out how best to provide aid, be it hospital or school building or simply boosting their economies.  He was known for his curious spirit and open-mindedness.  Mere days after we learned all about him, getting lesson after lesson on his demigod-like status to the Thai people, he died and we got the biggest, most meaningful lesson of all. Everything changed overnight.  Everyone wears black now and cries at the drop of a hat.  We also wear black and will have to do so "for the foreseeable future."

Let me just clarify something that may not be completely apparent to everyone.  Thailand is hot.  I've been to East Africa and I can still say with full certainty that I have never been somewhere as hot as Thailand.  So wearing black is like falling through the cracks of the oven you already live in and curling up atop the hot coals.  I've never sweated so much.  I've never drank so much water just to pee so little.  When the fan is twisting away from me to keep the air circulating in the room, it suddenly and mercilessly becomes harder to breathe.  I feel dizzy and my head hurts.  Then the air comes back towards me and I am rewarded a slight moment of relief only to be thrown back in the torture of heat.

I wish the King hadn't died.  I wish he was still alive, but not just because I feel like Morticia, not because we had to go shopping for black clothes yesterday and while they weren't hard to find (every mannequin for miles had on her best mourning garb) the prices were jacked through the roof.  I genuinely liked the Thailand that the king created and the good spirits everyone had when he was alive.  It hasn't been long enough to see the real change in the world, I just know that this is a loss felt by everyone, and we furungs are not immune.  Yes, we are apart of something incredibly unique and culturally meaningful, but we never got to experience the "real Thailand" that existed for the past 70 years.  If the king was everyone's father, living without him from now on is going to be a real struggle and interesting challenge for everyone.

The night after he died, there was a large gathering in front of the royal palace in Hua Hin.  There, hundreds if not thousands of people gathered to show their respects.  As soon as we approached the growing conglomeration, we were handed yellow candles (there was even symbolism in the color) and soon enough all of us were holding bare, lit sticks, subjecting our fingers carelessly to molten wax.  The mere act of sharing fire around the group with strangers, friends, and family alike made for a successful bonding experience, but what really tightened the knot was the singing.  When it became clear that everyone had a lit candle, the speakers crackled to life and a beautiful Thai melody commenced, to which everyone joined in somberly.  I was a little stunned by the unity of it all and if that wasn't enough to make me a little teary, the break down of everyone around me surely was.  I've only known for about a month that this man existed and yet it took so littler for me to be moved by how his people loved and respected him.

Afterwards, we all blobbed to the front under a shrine with a giant poster of the king to leave our candles.  One of the bleary-eyed ladies who was standing next to us, sweetly corralled us forwards, nodding politely and saying in amazing English, "Now we move forward..."  I hope she appreciated our presence, acknowledging our attempt to conform and show our own respects.  Whether she did or not, she made me feel welcome and not so out of place.  Her words stick with me now, while at the time I just took them at face value.  "We move forward."  Yes, yes we do.

During one of my classes I was a good little student and decided to draw the king instead of pay attention... sometimes I just gotta be artistically stimulated.