During the southbound trip, I unfortunately did not interact with many locals, despite our deliberately having chosen the second-class sleeper over a private car in order to be able to do so. My main entertainment was the loud tour group of Brits sitting near us. I suppose that you could say that I was exposed to some Thai culture, if you count the Brits' many Singhas, a popular brand of Thai beer. I saw other local delicacies in the hands of the people who walked continuously up and down the train trying to sell food to passengers. At the recommendation of Chanin's mother, I stayed far from their wares for fear of getting sick.
On the trip back, the car seemed fairly empty, so Chanin and I each took our own pair of facing seats. I read happily for a few stops, until an elderly Thai woman, whom I guessed to be in her sixties, came on and claimed the seat opposite mine despite the fact that there was plenty of other empty seats on the train. She sat only after making the conductor move all of my belongings, without my permission, from their place on the rack so that she could fit hers on.
Already annoyed, I soon received an even greater shock. Upon sitting down, the woman removed her shoes and, rather than fitting them on to her own seat somehow (or, God forbid, putting them on the floor), she put them on my seat, just a few inches from my very unhappy leg. Soon, my leg wasn't my only disgruntled body part. The invasion of privacy would have been annoying even if I had known her and her feet smelled like roses ... unfortunately, neither fact was true. I actually had to hold my hand over my nose and grimace for the next few hours-she didn't take the hint. Nor did she give any explanation or look of apology.
This would have been considered quite rude even here, but, thanks to the two guidebooks I used on the trip, I knew that it was one of the worst ways the old woman could have insulted me. The foot, as the lowest part of the body, should never be pointed at another person, much less stuck in their face. The woman must have thought that, as a farang (foreigner), I was ignorant of the taboo ... not that it should have made any difference.
I was not even free of the feet when the old woman insisted that our set of bunk-beds be made up at 8 p.m. She continued to dangle them from the top bunk until she was ready to go to sleep. Not exactly the mobile that hung over my crib years ago.
When the feet finally went to bed, I climbed into my bottom bunk to go to sleep. As I listened to songs from the "Brokedown Palace" soundtrack, I hoped that nobody would slip a few kilos of cocaine into my bags while I slept, and that I wouldn't wake up and open my curtain to find smelly old feet in my face again.