Nationwide Funeral

Although I’ve learned that I’m not invisible here, rarely do I feel like I stick out either. As my mother-in-law reported on the day after Jip and I were married, having checked on the gossip going around the village market, I am “not too tall, not too tattoo-covered, and not too hairy.”

But last night while riding the sky train I felt as uncomfortable as I can ever remember in Thailand. It was because I was wearing a blue shirt.

I knew of course that the king’s elder sister, Princess Galyani, had passed away a couple of days before. A Thai co-worker had thoughtfully called me that morning to mention that the country would be in mourning for a while, and that black and white attire would be expected at the office.

The transformation was immediate and complete. Everyone I saw on my way to work was dressed for a funeral. Walking into the cafeteria at the Ministry of Public Health was like watching a black and white movie. The whole country seemed to own several outfits for just such an occasion.

Not me. I ran out of appropriate clothes after three days. I hoped I wasn’t the only one, and that the rules might relax a little bit on the weekend, so before joining some people for a movie on Friday night, I went home and slipped into something blue.

I was the only one. The blue seats, and my shirt, were the lone spots of color on the sky train. Considering the respect people here have for the royal family, I thought maybe I should crawl under one of those blue seats and try to blend in with the furniture.