The New Art Museum

A gigantic new sign announcing a new art museum definitely caught our attention. We passed it to and from school for a few weeks; each pass immediately triggering a comment from one of us that we needed to investigate it. So, one slow afternoon we decided to follow the arrow. 

The initial turn found us excited. 

The second turn instigated a wriggle of suspicion. 

The third turn put us on a dirt path.

The fourth and final turn was beside idling dirt trucks with flip-flop clad feet hanging out the passenger side window. At this point, the small giggles became obnoxiously loud laughter. When Zach stopped the bike, we slid off - each gesticulating in our own way at the hilarity before us. 

Our highly anticipated art museum was merely a dirt field with a handful of bamboo stakes mapping out what could be coming in the future. 

In a classic tale of Thai-ism, the coming soon had been conviently edited out...at least in the English section. We did not even attempt to decipher the Thai characters because we were too busy laughing and it was a detail that was past the point of relevance. 

So, we took a ride through the stakes, naming the to-be rooms and declaring the exhibits to be found in each. Of course, there was a traditional Lanna room alongside a Star Wars - Asian style room. 

We may never see the grand opening of this art hub, but our few minutes among its possibilities were memorable in their own way. 

The Village Scandal

 

The rumor among the rice paddies is that this tin-and-twine creation is a source of local angst. Per the elusive village protocol, a meeting was held to garner support and acceptance of a new business: a hydroponic farm. As it is told, locals were pleased at the thought of having some new, fresh salad greens in the area. 

Thus, when the poles and metal roofing began to take shape, there was ample confusion. Instead of greenhouses to cultivate leafy greens, a more crude contraption for forging concrete bricks appeared. 

In true Asian fashion, there was no confrontation of the betrayal. Even though this took place well before our arrival into the village life, the whispers of deception continue to linger. I have noticed a few older people who walk by, glance in the gate, and shake their heads. Of course, I am not privy to their immediate thoughts and they could be shaking their heads at the cost of land, the soi dog who seems to have perpetual litters of puppies, or the random foreigners who have plopped into their midst. Yet, there seems to be a tinge of outcastness to this area and the business is not one I would label as booming. Scandal or not, I am just stunned this place did not follow the usual Asian creed of diversification - a brick-making factory front with a greenhouse around back to peddle hydroponic leafy greens in slower times. 

Local Ride

As expected, we are frequently asked why we like Asia. Of all the world, how have we spent eleven years meandering this part of the globe and still continue to want to do so. Of course, there are a litany of reasons but one of the top is: I love the wildness. The messiness. The creativity to do much with so little. A life that does not work within  precise sidewalks and trimmed hedges. The unexpected is common rather than a phenomenon.

One of the most tangible of an example is the local rides. Seriously, it is fascinating in most of the world what can be heaped upon a set of wheels and powered by a chugging machine. Laws and massive companies have taken the pizzaz out of the western vehicle market. The uniqueness is relegated to demolition and soapbox derbies. Whereas in Asia, creativity to fit a need continues to appear with frequenncy. We have a few trundling around our village, which delight me every time I spot one. 

I got lucky one day when out riding the bike. One of my favorites was parked in front of a local shop. I stopped to snap a photo, when another Thai lady on a bike started giggling behind me. In gestures and gobbled grunts in our respective tongues, we had a mutual laugh at such a delightful contraption. To my surprise, the driver came out about that time. The Thai lady yelled something at the man, who nodded his head, hopped onto his perch and started the beast. 

Then he posed. 

Sat straighter, hand casually on the wheel, a twinkle to his eyes. It was a sweet moment.

After a few clicks of my camera, the man waved and trundled on.  

When I turned to look at the woman, she giggled, waved, and went on her way.

Local rides and helpful locals - the world needs more of each.