This picture was taken on a 3rd class train ride from Lopburi to Phitsanulok, Thailand. You can’t quite see out the window, but I’ll describe it:
Miles and miles of patchworked rice fields—shallow, muddy water contained in square plots, with tiny green shoots sticking out in perfect order—interrupted on occasionally by small villages of orange, blue, and yellow buildings shaded with corrugated metal or gilded white temples overseen by enormous Buddhas, backdropped by hazy mountains and sparsely populated with ambling Thai farmers wearing sun hats.
I watched this flow by for hours from the hard metal bench of my rickety clackity train. I began to daydream of growing up as a rice farmer—passing the days bent double, spending all my time and energy reaping the most produce out of my small, square plot. I began filming the landscape to remember the daydreams..and then I had a nice laugh. Here’s the thought:
Videoing rice paddies from the bench of a third class train—
do Asian tourists film corn fields in the American heartland?
That is travel—everything is new and fresh and exciting, even when you’re viewing life as normal in a foreign context. Same same, but different.