To be invited to a royal celebration is enough to set the pulse racing.
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I sat in the rain in the gutter at Old Parliament House on that first visit for the Queen, and vaguely remember her beautiful coronation dress and sparkling tiara. I sat outside The Lodge for the Queen Mother to pass by in a flutter of tulle, and later did get a proper seat for occasions that were more about a glimpse or a glance.
But for this special event I was a guest of the Bhutanese community, invited to join in the celebrations of the wedding of King Jigme Khesar Namgyal Wangchuck to the bride he fell in love with when she was seven-years-old, Jetsun Pema. It was an occasion to fall under the spell of people who take on board the edict of GNH (gross national happiness), are generous, friendly, willing to share stories of their country and determined to succeed with the opportunity given them by an Australian education.
The program of events was a fascinating mix of Buddhist rituals with lighting of the butter lamps, ground purification, prayers for the royal couple, chanting, dancing and balloon football for the children, with celebratory butter tea (it's meant to be yak butter but a yak is hard to find in Turner) and saffron rice after the ceremonies.
It was a happy night, a privilege for me and I learnt much about the young king from Dorji, who spent three weeks travelling on foot in the mountains with him as he made a visit to his subjects in the most remote parts of Bhutan. Dorji also taught me how to interweave my fingers for offerings at the altar and shared his rice, which we threw on the floor for luck.