ChadSri in Northern Thailand, October 12-13, 2010
A lady put her green duffle on the brushed wooden bench beside my backpack looked at me nervously smiling. “Be my guest,” I said making gesture to let her know that we can always share public facility. She then walked around a few meters away empty hands and came back a few minutes later starting conversation.
“Where are you heading to?” And. “What time is your train leaving?” Those ordinary questions travelers would talk to each other anywhere in the world. When she found out my train hadn’t arrived yet and wouldn’t depart in a good forty five minutes she then asked, “Would you watch my bag? I’d like to go find something to eat.”
“Ah, yes, but don’t take too long” I said thinking that was the appropriate courtesy not being overly cautious during the time when just a week ago there were several bombs and bomb scares around Bangkok. The situation was now quiet down after the six months anniversary of the 10th April 2010 government cracked down on the Red Shirt protestors at the Democracy Monument, of which many lives were lost including a Japanese journalist and a few soldiers. But most of them were unarmed civilians.
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I was waiting for the train on a few days trek up north to Pitsanuloak, an ordinary province on the outskirt of Northern Thailand where tourism is still insignificant. I went there hoping to find, perhaps, the other branch of my family roots. A year ago I learned from my 96 years old aunt that my grand father had a brother when they came from China more than a century back. The brothers split and had never seen each other again, I was told.
Then a month later I talked with a friend in L.A. who used to live in the province. There is an established family business in her hometown city belongs to a clan with the same last name as mine. With some help from a university classmate who is one of the local I could locate the family.
The peoples who live at the establishment and run the business now is a third generation and do not know much about their roots. But there is still a grand mother who might be able to answer my quest one way or another. So I set up for this exciting quest.
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The lady came back in shorter time than I expected. She now conversed with acquaintance. She called me ‘uncle’ like everyone else I met in Thailand, young or old would call me. She talked more about her trip, my trip. Then another strange question popped up as I was a bit naïve about what was going on in the country I was born.
“Do you pay for your train ride?”
“Eh, Why not?”, was an instant answer in my mind.
“I did not pay for mine”, she continued.
“Oh.” Now I got it. It came to me that there was still a populist program the government tried to please the poor who are on the opposite side of Thai politics. This explained why she asked me all the questions about the type of train I would take, the destination and so forth.
She pulled out a worn out piece of flyer. It was the schedules for train services in all different types the Train Authority of Thailand operates, including all the stops along the routes I had no idea when I boarded the train. She pointed out on the charts that I could get free rides round trip if I took an ordinary, third class, train instead. But it would also take me three more hours in more crowded locomotives to the destination. Finally she wanted me to keep that worn out sheet which became very useful for the keen knowledge of my itinerary.
It happened that the lady saw me as a senior citizen who should take advantage of a populist Program offered by the government. It is a notion the underprivileged peoples of Thailand began to recognize not very long time ago. These are the peoples categorized as “Raag Ya”, a social class for grass root.
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The train I took was a special for second class called Sprinter for it run faster than normally the other second class called Rapid would do. There are several classes of train services in Thailand, though they all look and feel the same fatigued. The difference between a sprinter and a rapid is that one has air conditioning and the other has fans. The rapid train also makes all local stops while the sprinter only stops at stations for major cities.
My sprinter, a three car locomotive with engine underneath, named Rail Diesel for a kind of fuel it uses, still ran one hour overtime anyway. So I made right decision not to save a little more money riding in the “sweet-cold”, Thai slang for slow, Rapid or Ordinary third class.
However, the sprinter still gave me an extraordinary experience. First there was loud noise from underneath bothering me half of the way. The attendant, called Nai Truat, which means inspector, gave an explanation to one passenger for the cause of noise that the engine was sprinting but it had to be scaled down when traveling inside the cities. Something like you keeps taping on the gas pedal while the gear is in neutral. Then for half an hour in the middle of the way, the heat came out instead of air conditioning.
Other than that, the trip was memorable for nice scenery of the rainy season. Both sides of the track along the way from Nakorn Sawan, Gateway to the North, until we reached outside Pisanuloak I could see water almost everywhere under luscious green trees left over from heavy rainfalls.
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Pisanuloak was insignificant indeed. A small city with big history behind sits quietly between Nakorn Sawan and Uttaradit with some ruins remain in one of its oldest temple, Wat Chulamani. I stayed in a hostel suggested by my friend. It cost only half of any three star hotel would charge with all the same accommodations.
I visited the night market for dinner and morning market for breakfast. Marketplaces full of food and merchandises venders are everywhere in major cities of the countryside Thailand, as well as in many locales of Bangkok, like at Pratunam, Nana or China town.
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My mission was satisfactorily in completion, for I met a person whom I hope was related. A ninety years old lady talked to me in dept about her past. Her father was a Chinese came to Thailand more than a century ago like my grandfather. He was appointed a third rank of Siamese nobility, called Kun, by his patronage royalty who commanded a Siamese army for Pisanuloak territory.
His title was Kun Sripanich. Though spelling for the name is a slice different in Thai. But it can be the same surname as mine taking account from the fact that my father spelled his last name a little different than his elder brother from my grand father previous marriage. This Kun Sripanich did not use his title name as his last name. He took a new last name for Thai citizen.
His Chinese last name seams to be different than the one I heard was my grand father’s. I still need to check out some facts with my 96 years old aunt to establish any connection with this lady family. If there is no evident to support my hope I will still be satisfied with the mission as accomplished.
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Riding back another Sprinter train to Bangkok I felt a bit better than before I made my way to Pisanuloak. Then was the feeling of uncertainty whether what I was going to do is worthy for any accomplishment. Or it would be just another sheer nagging habit of the disregarded boxer who still wanted to be in the ring.
I enjoyed the ride more this time with consistent air conditioning and less, a lot less bothering noise, except from the cell phone conversation the lady behind me was utilizing Thailand’s advance technology.
Was I being nasty myself?
Nah!
