WHY MERCEDES BENZ IS A FIRST CLASS B**CH
By: Iris P. Concepcion
Thailand, just as pictured in Alex Garland's "Beach" book, has several gateways to nomads out to discover the world through their sensible eyes which are already tired of metaphorical advertisements for trite text messaging.
I have tried its train rail, an ode to a naturalist's eye. I have seen landscapes and their secret realities roll in film clips before, detached from urban insanity and artificiality. I have tried both its golden and futuristic buses with the wonders of a kid out to discover the functions of a wheel. I had tried its fleet of vans in front of announcements for school building inaugurations. I have, moreover, mystified myself with the wonders of its street motorcycles.
Earlier, I was invited by my sister-in-law to take a short trip to Pattani, a nearby city. She is going to deliver her examination questions for her students.
This time around, we tried Yala's taxi fleet and its sassy, hard-knock shoots for the best machine cylinders on Earth. I know by the way I had sat on the upholstery that this German transportation icon could never be beaten.
My taxi is a Mercedes Benz.
They are not new; they are fleets of very, very old models. I had been privileged to have been invited for a ride by a superior for a corporate function in the past using its latest model and did not expect the surprising consistency of its motoring work with its 70's edition now.
First off, I do not know anything about cars. I am a friend of people who could talk lengthily about its parts like it is Holy Grail. I do know when I experience a prime ride though.
The upholstery is not much to look at. Considering its age, that is a given. It even had scotch tapes pasted near one of its windows. When it started zooming though, I bet my whole life unto the gods of comfort, this machine could outlast even the newest models of new 4x4s and could outwin them all. One never feels bumpy inside it. This is Indy 500 minus the race. I could not help muttering about the smoothness of the wheels; you never hear a single screech nor rickety sound once it moves. It glides like a sleek, hair conditioner on the road.
It wheezed past trucks, buses, pick-ups, other beat-up vehicles with nary a loud scream. This beauty can eclipse a splatter of cute graffiti by the sidewalk. Our driver wore an imam's head gear and he took the road through its safest side. In here, you feel protected. Even for a single moment, I could swear that I owned the whole journey.
How does it feel being inside one of the most technologically astute cars ever invented? Consider this: it never touches the ground; it feels like you are aloft.
The fare costs only 50 baht but the experience could never be quantified. Imagine then if its newest model shall join a car "beauty" contest. This old edition already beat the rest through extreme class and functionability.
After the official transaction, my sister-in-law bought an Imarflex electric pan with steaming and frying functions for only 800 baht upon reaching Pattani. She purchased quality materials of men's clothing for my nephew, shoes for me, groceries and meat cuts. Her bill is just over 2,000 baht. My brother had likewise gifted me with huge servings of pizza last night. This couple does work in schools and are compensated for it by this government with decent wage.
Thailand is pure heaven from a consumer's point of view. It offers everything from transportation to food to accommodation without being ostentatious. I do not know if it is mere love of their heritage but Thai people possess this luxury of flight without being caste oriented.
On our way home, we rode in another Mercedes Benz taxi and true to form, its consistency never fails, not even for a minute.
Upon reaching Yala, I thanked the driver by saying my sincerest : "Your car? It is very, very good."
He replied : "Yes, it is good. Thank you."