Noble Hospitality

We’ve been standing in the queue for 2 hours. The lavender Baju Kebaya (traditional Malay dress) clings to my sweat-slicked skin as I stand next to my cousin and aunt. I surreptitiously check my skirt and see with relief that the blood has dried and the stain isn’t too noticeable.

We’re in the Sultan of Brunei’s palace during Eid-ul-Fitr, having digested a sumptuous meal, courtesy of the Royal Family. And we’re not alone. At least 20,000 others have showed up to enjoy the spread - a variety of rice, noodles, meats, veggies, deserts, fruit juices and soft drinks - during the Family’s annual ‘Open House’.

Everyone is in their fine new clothes; the throng a riot of colour, sequins and jewelry glinting in the afternoon sun. Each and every one had probably seen my spectacular ‘Miss Congeniality’ moment in the morning, as I ungracefully tripped and skinned my knees on the asphalt at the entrance of the palace.

But now it’s the third hour waiting in the queue to give ‘salaams’ and pay our respects to the female members of the Royal Family (only men can give ‘salaams’ to the male royals). Red velvet ropes lead the crowd in a zigzag around the foyer, which was more like an enormous pavilion.

Time ticks on. The locals are resigned to the waiting, murmuring among themselves. For many, this isn’t their first time. Foreigners like myself, we take in our surroundings; it may be our only opportunity to see inside one of the world’s most luxurious residences. Picture-taking is strictly forbidden, so I try to commit everything to memory; the soaring columns, the slanted ceiling, the white and gold Islamic floral pattern on the walls and the giant, gilt edge minaret-shaped doorways. It was like being in a white marble and gold version of the ‘Emerald City’.

After an approximate 3 hour 30-minute wait, we finally file into a plush air-conditioned room where the female royals stand in a single line, the Queen consort at the head. Despite the grandeur and the bodyguards and the people and the gold everywhere, she warmly shakes my hand, looks into my eyes and genuinely smiles, as if she is just another ‘Open House’ hostess, and she really is glad I came.

Thank God she didn’t check out my skirt.