TRAINS ARE COOL!

We took our first bus today, as in long distance bus, because there isn't a train station in Sukothai and we'd have had to backtrack to take the train. BUT! It would have been worth it. The bus is expensive and dull! Expensive as in 220 Baht each when trains have been between 20 and 50. Plus it jostles in a less regular pattern and so I can't read my book. I nearly became ill today from trying. Worst of all, people all sit in neat little seats and all there is to look at is a dozen rows of black half-heads looking the other way. On the train you're facing the little bench opposite your little bench, and there are old women to watch or little babies to play with and exploit. The countryside was lovely, but it's much more real from a train, open window, head reaching, wind whirling. Fans and fresh air beat half-functioning air-con any day. So, no more bus.

But speaking of spectacles and exploited locals, the train the other day, up to Phitsanulok from Ayutthaya, was full of things to watch and do. We had to stand a large portion of the way, but it gave us a great opportunity to see a lot of people about their business. Two old ladies who seemed to be long-time friends, both totally toothless and grinning all along, kept concocting themselves little homeopathic chewing potions out of their apothecarial lap baskets. There were green leaves, some red paste, little dry lime looking things, deftly peeled and cut up with a barbers long sharp razor blade! and a few other bits, then all put into a tiny bowl and mashed mashed mashed! Then you should've seen the old dears gumming the stuff! Either it tasted good or, more likely, it made them forget how old they were.

The fat one had to mix herself a new mouthful five or six different times too, had to keep spitting it out whenever some little goodie came floating past, which was often. They were queens of the train fare. (Which included whole fried baby chicks, pulled limb from limb and eaten like a cracker.) That's the other thing about the train, there are sometimes 20 different vendors, trotting up and down the aisle over and over, up and down, hour after hour, peddling their same tired, medium-warm fare to the same nonresponsive crowd. Except those old ladies. They were down to play the game. And, admittedly, after seeing the cold bucket of ice and soda go by a hundred times, and you're sweaty and sticky, sometimes you literally can't help but give in!

The other great thing that happened was just one bench over, a sweet little baby girl and her grandmother, taking a day-trip it seemed. I teased and smiled and played with the little gem for a long time, then, behind the grandmother's back, while she was being fed, I shamelessly exploited her in a series of well-lit and precious fotos. (I also took some killer video of the old ladies mashing their drug-mash, and it is too good to be true.)

Anyway, the awful thing about the baby and grandma was, as soon as I'd finished taking all those awful secret fotos, I went to look out the window. Leaning my head clear out, I started to lose my sunglasses, pulled in with a violent twist to save them, and somehow the giant water bottle clasped precarious in my elbow tipped, somehow unlidded itself, and unloaded its warm, spitty contents all over baby's face and grandma's lap. All down grandma's bag! I was the epitome of evil westerner at that point. I might as well have asked grandma if I could make some sexy videos with her baby. Shame. Shame!