... is the time to pay our respects to the king.
In every public place (train station, open-air market...), loudspeakers are on and, after a short speech, sometimes a cuntdown or a short English announcement exhorting us tourist to stand up and pay our respects to the kind, they play what we guess is the national anthem. Everything stops. The whole Sunday market was at a standstill. And then, life picks up as if nothing had happened.
(By the way, there are flags everywhere.)
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