Buhay Bangkok

It has been a year now since Gen. Sonthi and his generals launched the coup that toppled then-PM Thaksin. We were just on our second month in Thailand when it happened. We didn’t even have an inkling that there might be a coup until the night before when we watched an English-language news program. One of the commentators, a middle-aged guy named Devakula, said there had been rumors of an impending coup d’etat and he expressed hope that it would not push through.

The following morning, I woke up at the usual hour, prepared breakfast for Lizl and the kids and then noticed something. It was too quiet. I went out of the apartment. Usually at that time, around 6:15 am or so, traffic would be slowing down along the street in front of our apartment as parents drove their children to Sarasas Bilingual School, where Lizl teaches and the kids study.

There were no vehicles. My suspicion that there was a coup was confirmed when we turned on the TV and saw a guy in a general’s uniform (I later learned it was Gen. Sonthi) speaking before the cameras. All of Thailand’s TV channels featured only him and his announcement. This is it, I thought.

Lizl called her department coordinator and learned that schools have been ordered closed due to the coup. I texted Roby and he replied that he had been in the vicinity of the Royal Palace watching the tanks’ deployment the night before  . “Tapos na ang coup,” he said.

I was concerned as the term coup d’etat conjured up images of uniformed soldiers manning checkpoints, their faces grave, rifles at the ready. I witnessed the numerous coups during the Aquino administration, particularly the August 1987 and the December 1989 attempts, and I started asking myself whether going to Thailand had been a big mistake for us

What made us more anxious was the fact that we knew little about what’s going on. We had no cable TV connection, and the local TV stations were in pasa-Thai. Our neighbors couldn’t speak English. Lizl’s co-teachers did not know anymore than we did.

Nevertheless, we went to Carrefour Petchkasem for groceries, despite our misgivings. Who knows, the putschists might have already thrown a barricade across Petchkasem Road to cut off one of the main arteries to the South (I didn’t know then that the big military bases are in the north, like Lop Buri, and in the east, like the naval base in Satthahip). There I called Khun Normita, who at the time was working at the Bangkok Post. She assured me that everything was fine, that the coup was bloodless and was welcomed by majority of Thais.

It seemed Thais were just happy to have the stand-off end. In the months before the coup, the country had been polarized between the Thaksin and anti-Thaksin camps and everything went on a standstill. I was expecting a People Power-like uprising among the Thais, as the demonstrations in Bangkok got hotter and hotter. Gen. Sonthi moved very swiftly and silently, as Thaksin himself was caught off-guard; he was on his way to address the UN General Assembly in New York when his generals revolted.

Assured by Khun Normita’s words, we went home more hopeful. In the afternoon I went to the Internet Café in Assumption Street to find out more from online news sites. Imagine my surprise to see the café full with kids playing Special Forces, Thailand’s version of Counterstrike. It was surreal. In the Philippines, all commercial establishments would’ve been empty of customers during such crises. But these kids were playing soldiers via new media while the real ones were out there, grabbing state power.

The first day of the coup passed without incident. My visions of chaos and bedlam and guns and screaming civilians vanished. I breathed a sigh of relief. Looking back, the only regret I had was missing the chance for Paulo and I to have our photos taken with the soldiers and their tanks in the Royal Palace. They could have been great souvenirs.