Train to Chiang Mai: Standing room only

Over the past two weeks, I figure I’ve spent 75-80 hours in transit. Be it a bus, a train or simply waiting for either. That’s almost 5 days out of the last 14. My pores have never felt so clogged, my ass has never been so numb, and never have my ankles been so swollen.

Taking the train into Chiang Mai, however, was a whole new experience on its own. When I asked at the train station about booking advance tickets, they told me it was completely sold out. Considering that it was Songkran (Thai New Year), I wasn’t surprised. However, they did tell me that I could show up before the train and get a ticket and that’s exactly what I did. Prepared to board the 5:00 train, I show up at the station only to be told that they have standing room only tickets.

“Standing room only?” I asked doubtfully, as if there was a possible communication error. Nope, they really meant standing. So, calling on my sense of adventure and desire to pay as little as possible, I buy a ticket.

The difference between the tourist-centric sleeper and the second and third class trains are night and day on a regular day, however this is Songkran where everyone is heading home to welcome the new year with family and friends, so when they said ‘standing room only,’ they really meant it. People were packed in like sardines, filing the aisles and sitting on the open stairs, with only a guardrail beside them to prevent falling to their death. So I claim my spot where the trains connect and prepare myself for a long train ride. With one foot on one train, and the other foot on the other train, I took deep breaths, imagined myself doing the splits should the trains detach for any godforsaken reason, and tried to ignore images of my life passing before my eyes.

It really wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the people constantly moving the length of the entire train selling food and drinks, forcing me to suck it in and push myself against the chains keeping me from falling off the train. If those sellers weren’t there, I would have been able to sit, just like the lucky souls who claimed a spot in front of the open doorway, or on the stairs.

Nonetheless, I made friends with a group of guys who were playing the guitar and singing some rather beautiful Thai songs. I tried coaxing them to sing a song in English, despite their combined knowledge of three phrases; “Where are you from?” “What is your name?” and “where are you going?”

Eventually they started singing Zombie by the Cranberries (which is actually quite a popular song here, I imagine because of the simplicity of the words). Then they sang Bruno Mars, The lazy song, and I was able to teach them how to say certain words and sing along with them. Singing and laughing with them made the time fly, and then eventually it was 5 hours later.

It may have been the pathetic way that I was trying to sleep standing up, or maybe it was in the even sadder way that I started trying to sit between people moving between the trains that caught the attention of a Thai woman and her New Zealand husband, but they set down a mat for me and I sat at their feet for the next 4 hours until I couldn’t feel my butt, and realized there were seats open in 3^rd class where I caught a few hours sleep before arriving in Chiang Mai.

Having traveled on the sleeper, standing in third class, and sitting in second class on my return from Chiang Mai, I can honestly say that I like the atmosphere in third class better because you can truly enjoy the Thai people that you are traveling with and anticipate the next person to walk up the aisle singing “nam yen, bia,” (Cold water, beer). To truly travel as Thai people travel, take a third class car, but maybe only if you’re going a short way – most wouldn’t enjoy my uncomfortable 12 hours. However, for a painless ride, the sleeper really had it figured out. The rocking motion of a train can put anyone to sleep (even standing!) and the comfort and privacy of those bunks is surprising.

Then again, my ticket was only 200 baht ($6.50) whereas sleepers can run anywhere from 650 to 1000 ($21 – $31.50) and when you’re on a budget and already living in Thai Baht, that makes a big difference.

It was worth all the pain once I got to Chiang Mai and started seriously living it up for Songkran. I have a lot of research and writing to do in the next couple days to do the holiday any justice!

The “no problem” culture

“Mai Ben Rai.”

In Thai, this translates quite literally to “no problem.” Thai’s use it for everything; it can be one of those simple phrases that identifies what it means to be Thai. I’ve realized why it is that I can appreciate these people and this culture so well, and I think it’s mostly because the way that they deal with everything is to shrug it off and move on. Another Thai way of life is ‘kreang jai’ meaning for the most part that your own personal gratification is second only to that of the group. Not creating a big deal out of anything, shying away from confrontation, making sure that those around you are happy and therefore ensuring the peace.

This is not a new concept for me, ask my ex. There were things that I would simply shrug off and move on from. I try not to take anything to heart, I don’t over analyze, and I don’t over think. We used to fight about this a lot, mainly because I would shrug something off until I couldn’t bare it anymore and I would explode.

It’s okay.

At some point in my life, I learned that it wasn’t worth it to fight over every little thing, that one would be happier if they picked their battles and ignored those little things that can make a bad day even worse. It’s this personality trait that I feel is not necessarily uniquely me, but that makes me so easy to interact with. To an extent I’ll follow your plans to the ends of the earth.

As a Canadian, I realize, I apologize a lot. People tell me to stop apologizing and I apologize. I’m sorry!! Even if I’m not even really sorry for bumping into that stranger who actually walked right into me, I’ll apologize for interrupting their tear through the mall. Thai is very similar. It’s because here, their biggest concern is to not lose face in front of anyone, to make sure that those around them are satisfied with them and their surroundings, so confrontation only results after the nicest possible methods of interaction have failed.

No worries

Thai people will say “mai ben rai” as part of a longer sentence about how something isn’t a big deal, or to stop you from apologizing, or from serving yourself or even from cleaning up a mess that you made. Of course, I’ve been on the receiving end of this phrase whenever I apologize for some mess that I’ve made, or anything really that I feel the need to apologize for. But I’m quickly informed that it’s no big deal and to carry on with my day.

It’s refreshing to not have the stress of self-centred, angry people or to worry about dissatisfaction from those around you, which is a constant in Western culture – that one is always doing something wrong or simply needs to do better, our “me, me, me” way of life. While there is, of course, preconceived notions about farang, Thai people are generally quite quick to ignore your cultural faux pas and can move on with no hard feelings. As long as the harmony of the group and the possible forging of new relationships is not disrupted, “mai ben rai.”

Sometimes though, they use it if there is nothing they can do about the situation immediately, and it’s usually these times when it’s just not appropriate to shrug something off. “I really do need water for my shower, I have a job interview!” Or “It’s freaking hot, I need electricity for the air conditioning!”

Oi, “Mai ben rai.”