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| King Bhumibol |
BANGKOK, THAILAND “What’s with all the billboards and signs of your King and Queen?” Maybe it’s my tone of voice, my guide, Paradee, quickly snaps, “He’s our King. We love him!” End of discussion she thinks, but not when you’re dealing with a roving anthropologist and so I continue. “Here, on this intersection alone, I count a dozen pictures of them. Isn’t that a little excessive?” “It’s not excessive. We love him. He’s god.” “Did you say god?” “Yes, of course, he’s our god. Unlike our other gods, he’s someone we can actually touch and feel. Ten years ago I touched his foot.” “His foot?” “Yes, his foot!” Paradee’s not happy with my questioning. “But why his foot?” “Because that’s the position you’re in when he walks by!” through her clinched teeth I know she wants to add, “You fool.” I conjure up an image of her along with thousands of the King’s subjects kowtowing as he walks by, which causes me to ask, “Do you actually pray to him?” “Yes, of course!” What a stupid question I’m sure she means to say. “When?” “Every morning when I leave home. I ask him to protect me and my son and help us through the day.” “Is there a special place where you pray?” She shakes her head indicating my question is a stupid one, “In front of his picture.” “Picture?” “Yes, like everyone, you know everyone, in Thailand, we have a large picture of the King in our house. We actually have many pictures of the King but the big one at our front entrance is the one we pray to.” “I thought you said earlier you were Buddhist?” “I am!” She shouts back, now angry. “Is there something wrong with that? I pray to the spirits too. I told you that as well. I have both the Buddha and a spirit house in my house. That’s the way it is in Thailand. We can pray to whomever.” “To Lord Ganesh?” “I don’t, but why not? Lord Ganesh is a Hindu god and Buddhism was formed out of Hinduism.” “What about Jesus?” “I don’t, but some people may.” “Very confusing,” I say. She snaps, “It’s because you don’t listen! You have a bad attitude! AND, you insult my King with your questions!” I drop the subject and for the next three hours, as we drive to the Tiger Temple, neither of us says a word.
