..续本文上一页 into his truck, saying he would take us to where we wanted to go. He was Thai, a native of Kamphaeng Phet, and had left home and come to live in Burma for almost 20 years now. The two of us — Nai Chin and I — accepted his invitation and got into the truck.

　　We rode into a forest and started up a tall mountain, the road curving back and forth. It was 2 p.m. before we left the mountain range and reached level ground. We kept going until we reached Kawkareik (Jik Swamp), and just as darkness fell we reached his home. There we spent the night. At about 4 a.m. a Burmese woman brought some rice porridge to donate to me, and told me to eat it right then and there. I refused because it wasn”t yet dawn, so she left and waited outside until it was light.

　　After daybreak, when I had finished my meal, the wife of the man in whose house we were staying got us onto the bus to Kyondo (Steamboat) Landing. From there we took the boat to Moulmein. The ride lasted about four hours. While we were on the boat, Indians and Burmese came to talk with me, but I couldn”t understand much of what they were saying. At about four in the afternoon the boat reached Moulmein. From here we had to take another boat across the river to Martaban, a ride that took a fair while. Reaching the shore we could see the railroad station far in the distance.

　　The train wasn”t going to leave until 7 p.m., we learned at the station, so we went to wait under the shade of a tree. A young man, about 30 years old and very well-mannered, came and approached us, saying, "You have special permission to sit and wait in the train before it leaves, because you”re Thai and have come a long way." He called me "Yodhaya Gong Yi."

　　So I said in English, "Thank you very much."

　　He smiled, raised his hands in respect, and asked in English, "Where do you come from

　　"

　　"I come from Siam."

　　Then we went to rest in the train car. Some of the railway officials came to chat with me, and we were able to understand one another fairly well, speaking in Burmese mixed with English. When the time came, the train left. We traveled by night, and the air was very cold. I slept all wrapped up in a blanket. Nai Chin sat up and watched over our things. When the train reached the station at Pegu, a woman about 30 or so got on and sat down right near where I was sleeping and started asking me questions in Burmese, some of which I could understand and some of which I couldn”t. I sat up to talk with her, in order to be polite. I said in Burmese, "I”m going to Rangoon."

　　"Where will you stay

　　"

　　"Schwe Dagon."

　　We talked using sign language. She seemed quite taken with me. The train traveled on until about 5 a.m., when she got off. Nai Chin and I stayed on until the train reached Rangoon at dawn, just as the monks were going out for alms.

　　A lay person came running into the train car and helped us with our things, as if he knew us well. He invited us into his car. We got in and sat down without saying a word. He took us to Schwe Dagon Pagoda, where we found a place to stay. The man — his name was Mawng Khwaen — turned out to be a very faithful supporter all during our stay in Rangoon, looking after our needs and helping us in every way.

　　We stayed twelve days at the Pagoda and got to know a good number of Burmese lay people. We were able to converse and understand one another fairly well.

　　Nai Chin and I then left Rangoon, taking the boat at the city docks and heading on to India. The boat took two nights and three days to cross the Bay of Bengal, reaching the docks at Calcutta just at dark. On the boat I met a Bengali monk from Kusinara. We discussed the Dhamma, sometimes in Pali, sometimes in Bengali, sometimes in English. Sometimes in one sentence we”d have to use up to three languages before we could understand ea…

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