Walking in the City, Part II: The Victory Monument to Rongpayabaan Siriraj

I realize I am changing up the style of my blog post titles. Oh well. I kind of forgot I was doing the “Day such and such” thing. Also, I like “Walking in the City.” Ah, de Certeau. I cannot quit you just yet!

Wednesday was my day of Epic Travels. I had to run to the office to meet my uncle once more to drop off his Sky Train pass and to get some money from my dad. (I was really, really annoyed when my credit card refused to let me use it here. I called them twice!) So I trotted off to the Sky Train (<3!) and realized I had no idea how to get to the office from the stop. I hazarded a guess as to direction and set off boldly. I was very pleased with myself that I got it right.

You would think, having gotten my wardrobe completely wrong the day before, that I would have learned my lesson. But I had decided to wear shorts, and when I told my uncle where I was going and what I wanted to see and that I wanted to end up at Siriraj Hospital to sign the King’s get-well book, he gently suggested that I maybe change into a skirt. I was very annoyed with myself, but I wanted to be able to sign the book so I raced back to the guest house to modestify myself. Then I went to the Victory Monument to start taking pictures.

I caught a taxi to Chitralada Palace, which is quite near Parliament and my uncle said they had some good pictures at the four corners. The taxi driver was very nice and corrected my pronunciation and explained to me (I think) that the King is not actually in residence at Chitralada. One thing this trip has taught me is that I need to do some seriously intensive language study. I can read pretty well still, but my conversational skills are seriously depleted.

In my enthusiasm, I decided that I would walk around the palace, to Parliament and down to the Democracy Monument past the statue of Rama V. This was a key corridor for protestors and my uncle said there were bound to be lots of royal pictures as this was also the section of the city dedicated to many different ministries. I am here to tell you that this was in fact a very bad idea. It all looked pretty close on the map. The map was deceiving.

Additionally, I had not had enough water so I began to feel quite faint and I think my blood sugars dropped. I am a very stubborn person and I am also quite stupid sometimes so I decided to keep going till I got to the Democracy Monument and look for a café. However, when I nearly passed out trying to take a picture, I realized I needed to sit down, preferably in an air-conned restaurant. It was a blow to my pride, but I spotted a restaurant and stumbled inside. This was a very good decision, because I was still miles away from the Democracy Monument, as I found when I set off again. (I love fried rice, by the way. It is simple and hard to mess up. I also love, love, love water. So much.)

I really am rather pleased with my ability to guess which direction to go, because the maps I had were not really clear on where the monument was. I really only found it because I spotted some giant pictures of the royal family down one of the streets at a particularly confusing intersection and I decided I should investigate. And lo, the photos led straight to the monument! I thought it was interesting that all the royal photos were displayed so prominently near the monument. I wondered if they were normally displayed there or if they had been put up more recently.

I feel the need to mention how utterly terrifying the traffic is in Bangkok. Crossing the intersections was extremely crazy. I’m realizing, being back here, just why I was so scared to drive initially. It’s because every time you are near a road here you really might die. Being in the taxi to the hospital was one experience I will not forget in a hurry. I think the driver thought I was mistaken when I asked to go to there.

“Siriraj hotel?” he said. “Rongpayabaan,” I said. Hospital. I think he thought I was crazy. I certainly think his driving was crazy. He was going so fast and it was annoying because once we crossed the river there were a lot of billboards that I wanted to get pictures of but could not. The hospital was very surprising. I was expecting lots of guards and security, but the complex was under construction and very haphazard and when the taxi dropped me off I had no idea where to go. There were no signs and I was actually afraid he had just dropped me off at some random hospital.

I will not panic, I told myself. So I went into a coffee shop because I really did need some caffeine (jetlag, boo) and noted that the staff were all wearing pink shirts. Feeling heartened, I went back out and just started wandering around corridors and finally stumbled upon a quiet inner courtyard with incense burning and a sala with giant photographs of His Majesty with many tables off to the sides.

It felt like a shrine. And honestly, that is what it was. I wanted to take pictures but I am fairly sure that was not allowed. (I think I probably missed a sign in my wandering.) Anyway, I did not want to disrupt the people praying. I felt like praying myself. It was very emotional; His Majesty is, after all, known to be “in the heart” of Thai people.

An official noticed me looking at the pictures and asked me if I needed help. I asked if this was the place to sign the book and if I could? He led me over to a table and I got to write my name in a list. It was the only name in English on that page. They took a picture of me signing; this amused me. I’m on file somewhere, a random farang looking haggard and a bit dazed, writing my name for someone that I will never meet. I’m so, so glad I got to sign though. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time. (He is in my heart, too.)

It took forever to find a taxi back to my guesthouse. But it felt like I had completed something important.