Thirst

My skin is sizzling under the sharpness of the sun springing through dirty windows and my nostrils are being constantly irritated by the dust from the brown velour seats. The sensation of sweat from a stranger sitting next to me can not escape my mind.
I am a European suburban traveling to the ageing queen of the former empire on a route from Sarajevo to Budapest. One more border is ahead of me to cross as the sluggish iron beast of an old train is crossing no man's land providing a landscape of yellow grass and a somewhat unreal blue sky.
The metal sound of the breaks makes me very present in this real moment in time. We stop for a border check.
The minute spent with Hungarian customs officers stretches and when they finally leave, I feel free enough to leave my compartment and to grab some air through the window in the narrow aisle.
Withered faces of my travel companions cheer up while they light cigarettes waiting for the train to continue its slow ride.
Mental numbness I am experiencing is suddenly interrupted as I see a young Japanese man running around the border point clearly searching for something. He moves haggardly from one person from another. My curiosity arises and soon enough from his hand gestures and from shrugging of the locals I realise that he is looking for water. Disappointed, he is getting closer to a state of panic as he knows that the train will soon leave and he will be stuck in a boiling vehicle again. The train engines start and he returns.
As he passes me, I stop him and ask “Are you looking for water?” His eyes widen for a second and he starts repeatedly nodding his head saying “Yes, yes, yes”.
“Wait a sec” - I reply as I turn back to my compartment and reach for a fresh bottle of water I have been carrying in my little travel fridge. “Take this” - I tell him. He takes the bottle, looks at me briefly, says “thank you” and continues to his friends.
I return to my seat wondering if he is going to like Budapest more than Sarajevo?