First Report from Siam (I am psyched!)
I am very proud that King Negrito has decided to lift a corner of the veil of utmost secrecy that has weighed on us Gritos for countless generations. I am so excited to have His permission to report to you of my adventures in the far far faraway land of Siam and I promise to tell you of everything I see on my Royal Mission at the best of my possibilities. Everything, that is, except any secrets that would put lives in peril...
The history of my family, as for all Grito families, goes way back to when extra-terrestrials gave us a bunch of secret missions concerned with guiding humanity, amongst other races, on the Path of Joy. Oops, I have said too much. But you could not pry much more from a simple footsoldier as I. King Negrito alone knows the Secrets of the Gritos in their entirety. Much has been forgotten, and some stories are just too boring, so I will just take a quick glance back, to, what was it? Last week? Oh wait no… Human records say 1680. Is that a long time ago? Most of us, Gritos, have no sense of time whatsoever.
ffice:smarttags" />France still had a king back then, and a very impressive one too, The Sun King. When our Grito King heard that Siam had sent ambassadors to France, and that they were lost, he immediately suggested to Louis to send a delegation back to Siam. Maybe the Siamese had been captured by man-eating Hugulugus, or worse, nipple-pinching Balawars. In any case, Louis provided us with a big boat and some ecclesiastics to do our cooking and washing and to serve as mouthpieces when dealing with the Siamese. We did not yet know if the Siamese were accustomed to little speaking teddy bears and, as the journey promised to be long and perilous, we did not want to take chances.ffice
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The mission was a success. The Hugulus agreed to spare the holy men when my ancestors taught them how to make vegetable soup and the Balawars and priests got along just fine, despite our worst fears. I heard that, to this day, nipple-pinching is still popular in seminaries across the world.
And that is how the Royal Kingdoms of Gritoland and of France established embassies in Siam, many years ago, and how my humble family became Royal Gritian Ambassadors to Siam. You can call me, “Your excellency” or “Dude” which is an even higher form of address by my book. So don’t “dude” me too much, “your excellency” will suffice in most occasions.
There has not been a Royal Gritian Ambassador in Siam for many years. It is a pity. King Negrito believes only in the power of Joy, but Gritos have had their share of Woe, as well. It is a long story, and you will know it in time. For now, let us just simply rejoice in the return of a Grito to the Kingdom of White Elephants.
Just as I finished my training at the Royal Grito Academy, His Excellency Pradito (who knows of travel better than any Grito) was given the mission to escort me to Siam. He did so with his usual panache and sense of style. Asian beauties pampered us in beds the size of our homes and brought us many Human delicacies. Traveling with him is as good as it gets! We met no Hugulugs nor Balawars though, and that came as a bit of a relief but also something of a disapointment.
Unfortunately, Gritos are not too good at keeping records – we believe only in Carpe Diem. Most of the time, it is a good thing to forget, especially sad stories, but now, nobody remembers where the Royal Grito Embassy in Bangkok is! I am homeless! Pradito suggested that – while King Negrito contacts His Majesty King Bhumipol of Thailand to see into this slight oversight – we stay together at a friend’s of his, Mr. Grumpy.
Mr. Grumpy is just the opposite of a Grito! He does nothing but complain and speak of impending doom. He has told me that I will never find my embassy and that King Bhumipol of Thailand will never answer a little king like King Negrito. First I thought, Mr. Grumpy is an idiot. He has been living in the toilets of a gas station on some remote tropical island for longer than he can remember. He has no idea of the ways of the world. All heads of states, if only in secret, recognize Gritoland and His Majesty King Negrito. They just try not to advertise the fact that the world would be nothing but war, blood, and disease if it weren’t for the Gritians. They take all the credit. And we do not mind. This is the business of humans and our duty to the Planet Earth.
Then I wondered what this Mr. Grumpy is. Maybe he was once a Grito? Thousands of years ago. Maybe he strayed from the path of Joy onto the path of Woe and lost his Grito powers and even his good Grito looks. He does have little bear ears… Or maybe he comes from a different planet entirely. He doesn't seem to know either but he does know much of the ways of Thailand and, if he would only stop being so negative, is being a rather decent guide to Pradito and myself.
Moreover, I have a roof over my head and – though this is a clear departure from the luxurious lifestyle I was used to back in Gritoland – my Royal Grito Academy training makes me prepared to sleep on beds that are not by Pirelli, and drink water that is not Evian. Ugh. I miss chocolate and red wine already but being an ambassador is also about being an explorer and an adventurer. I will not fail King Negrito! Long live the King! Long live Gritoland! Sorry about that. I am still fresh from the academy and sometimes still a bit indoctrinated.
I am most impressed by the new friend I have made, His Excellency Pradito. Pradito is not only the envoy of our King to our Sister City, Paris, and hence to France (our ancient ally), but has the daunting task of policing fashion, in the Kingdom, and abroad, too. I have taken my scarf off (it is so sticky hot here!) and wrapped around my left foot an ancient amulet given to one of my ancestors by King Rama V of Thailand. I was afraid of Pradito’s reaction but he just said, “So butch.” I sighed with relief. I don’t know what “butch” means but Pradito said it with a smile and wink so I think it is good. Gritos do not believe in torture and violence, but getting in trouble with the Secret Gritian Fashion police is just about as bad as a day can get!
I have spoken so much already! Your eyes are blinking and your heads nodding. Shame on me. And yet, what have I accomplished here so far? Not much. I visited a school, which is all in a day’s job when you’re a diplomat, but now, I really must get back to my explorations to uncover the hidden secrets of this ancient Kingdom of Siam.
What is this Mr. Grumpy? Where is our long lost embassy? What befell my ancestors that lived within it? What powers are in the amulet I carry? What plan had King Negrito in sending me here? Am I a cog in the Big Plan?
To serve until death by chocolate cake deprivation! Huah! Huah! Huah!
His Excellency Siamito, Royal Gritian Ambassador in Thailand
Phuket Island, Thailand
This is not a message from Siamito. He left me with the codes to send a single message through the secret Grito service. Do not try to find out who I am, I know nothing more than what I will tell you.
