Children poke their heads out the window, feeling the wind in their eyes. Traveling salesmen shower in the sink, then put on clean, pressed clothes they pull magically from filthy bags. Young girls smile at poor boys with too much cologne. There is no pretense in third class we may all be in the back of the train, but it's still the same view as up in first class. Not ten minutes from of Sungai Kolok, we spot an elephant chewing silently in the jungle.
Rice paddies reflect the clouds and mountains in their placid waters.
Village after village rushes past in a blur of green and brown and red and blue. At Hat Yai, the sun turns orange then red, and twice as many people board as disembark. The new arrivals squeeze in, sitting on the floor, bags, and each other. Others crowd into the bathrooms or the space between cars, tucked into the stairway-platforms with the rushing wind. Very few people get on or off, yet we wait at each station for ten to fifteen minutes while hawkers board to sell their packaged meals, bottled water, cigarettes and candy.