A disaster, a king, and butter lamps

by Rachelle Meilleur (Japan)

I didn't expect to find Japan

After a three a.m. wake-up call in a Bangkok, a harrowing taxi ride to the airport, and a spectacular flight through the Himalayas, I finally arrived in Bhutan. Nearly a decade had passed between the first inklings I had of visiting this country, and actually being able to do it. The date I finally made it there? March 11th, 2011. It was just another day, like any other, but little did I know that a momentous disaster was going to strike my adopted home of Japan. I was picked up at the airport in Paro and my guide and driver drove me to Thimphu, where we would start our tour. Since I had had virtually no sleep the night before, I was allowed to spend a couple of hours in my hotel to rest before continuing our tour. The hotel was traditionally Bhutanese, but I was surprised to see a large flat-screen TV in my room. I turned it on and the first channel that came up was CNN. It was broadcasting these incredible images of the massive earthquake and tsunami that had just hit Japan. I was in complete shock. I just sat there for hours, switching between CNN and BBC, watching the news unfold. I did not want to leave my room to do a tour, but I had spent so much time, money, and effort to come here, I knew I had to go. Even when I told my guide what had happened, his indifference to all that I said made me feel even more alone, helpless, and isolated. The next day I met the representative of my tour company, and when she asked me how I was doing, I broke down in tears in the restaurant. Although it was not entirely his fault, I was not happy with my guide, and the stress of what was happening back home was clearly an issue. To their credit, the company quickly found a replacement guide for me, whose calm and friendly presence was exactly what I needed. Since sightseeing time had been lost in the transfer of guides, we decided to use the time that we had to go to political and spiritual heart of the country, Thimphu Dzong. While we were there, my new guide said that something strange was going on — there were more official people and guards there than normal. He found out that the king was coming to light butter lamps and say prayers for the victims in Japan — would I like to stay and meet him? Of course I would! So we explored the grounds until it was clear that the king was going to arrive soon, and I was herded into a corner with the few other foreign tourists who were there, with our guides standing behind us. When the king came in, the first thing he did was walk right over to greet us and talk to us. I was so tongue-tied! He looked like a young Asian Elvis with his slicked-back long black hair, yet he had such a regal bearing about him. I’ve never been star-struck before, but I was in his presence. In his very British accent, he asked us where we all from, and I wanted to say, “I live in Japan and I’m so worried about everyone there. I just want to say thank you for coming here to say prayers for them.” But all I could manage was “Japan,” said in a near whisper. I don’t think the king heard me, as he started talking with some of the more outgoing tourists, but it did not bother me at all. After giving us his farewells, he went to meet the Japanese dignitaries and then they went to say prayers. I was very moved that he was there to light butter lamps and pray for the victims of the tsunami and earthquake that had devastated Japan. I certainly had never thought that I would meet the king in person, but his compassion and empathy for the victims so far away was the most unexpected and reassuring find I had had on any my travels before or since.