Adventures in DMV Days

Riding my motorbike the other day, I came around a bend, prepared to make a left turn. At the same time, a handsome man was driving his motorbike towards me. Our eyes met, and I flashed him my winningest smile. He smiled back. We slowly eased our bikes around each other with a smooth, graceful dance-like harmony, and went our separate ways. It was like something straight out of an old film.

“Hey there, sailor. Drive here often?”

Oh, wait…did you think this was the beginning of a road-romance? Sorry, let me fill in a few more details:

Riding my motorbike the other day, I came around a bend [making an illegal U-turn], prepared to make a left turn [in the wrong direction down a one-way street]. At the same time, a handsome man [wearing a traffic-cop uniform] was driving his motorbike towards me. Our eyes met, and I flashed him my winningest smile. He smiled back. We slowly eased our bikes around each other with a smooth, graceful dance-like harmony, and went our separate ways. There. That’s more accurate.

To be fair, (and to put my parents’ minds at ease), there was construction nearby making all traffic a bit of a mess, and my normal, legal route home was blocked. I don’t usually drive so haphazardly. Nonetheless, the encounter did make me think that now, after two years of ‘practice’, it was probably time for me to actually get my license.

After spending 7 and a half hours at the DMV yesterday, I was almost regretting that decision. Since my driver’s license is all written in Korean, I couldn’t simply exchange it for a Thai one, write a 15 minute multiple choice test, take a 2 minute drive around a closed course, and merrily head home with a legal license. Instead, I had to take a 4 hour road safety course…all in Thai. I dozed through some of it, but when I did listen, all I understood was, ” ……. left turn….. motorcycle….. maybe …. car… 10 minutes… train.”

After the 4 hours, and a 1/2 hour lunch break, the next 3 hours were spent waiting for and taking the written test. 3 times. I took it once for the car and failed, then I took the same test immediately again for the motorbike and passed, then I had to wait 30 minutes before I could take the same test once again for the car. The test was theoretically in English, but that didn’t mean that the words tossed together made much sense!

While waiting for my 3rd round of ‘decipher the question’, I took the practical component for my motorbike. I drove around a closed course, and the official may or may not have looked up from his desk while I did so, to make sure I hadn’t fallen off, or careened into a bush.

Next, I went to get my licenses printed. They printed both a motorbike license, and a car license, but won’t give me the car one until I’ve borrowed a friend’s car and taken the road test. The photographer took my picture 5 times, until she was satisfied that I was smiling, and looked pretty enough to have my face plastered on a permanent ID. That was nice of her. I wish she also worked at the place that does passport photos.

In the end, even after a full day at the DMV, I’m still no closer to understanding Thai driving rules. The only think I learned for certain is that it’s illegal to park by a black & white striped curb, like this one:

Motorbikes (including mine) illegally parked at the DMV. 

I’m sure the drivers of the bikes above can be forgiven, since none of us actually had a license when we drove here and parked. Now that we know better, I’m sure we’ll never ever park illegally again.

Now, if the handsome traffic cop ever pulls me over, at least I’ll be wearing my prettiest smile on my new license. 

Adventures in Bamboo Ninjas

As many of you know, I like my little cottage – the house I’m renting while I write my thesis. Sure, it has its fair share of insect life: what self-respecting cottage doesn’t? But I like that it’s tiny, with whimsical french windows and doors. It has has window boxes which are woefully neglected, but doggedly continue to sprout loyal flora. It’s quiet, shady and secluded. Or at least it was, until the Bamboo Ninjas arrived on Monday morning.

My lovely cottage – perfect idyll for aspiring princesses and linguists.

Apparently, the bamboo grove along the wall of my yard started making trouble in my neighbourhood. Since I don’t have an Auntie and Uncle in Bel Air, another solution needed to be found. You see, thanks to the “ignore and neglect” method of gardening, espoused by both my landlady and myself, the bamboo had flourished, and towered above the 3-storey building next to me. Sadly, this meant that my neighbours couldn’t open and close their windows without getting a room full of bamboo leaves and branches. I can fully understand their displeasure, and why they mentioned it to my landlady.

Pay no attention to the cat in the basket. Check out the gorgeous bamboo grove behind her.

On Monday, a blue truck arrived, full of ninjas. Some sticklers for precision might contend that they weren’t really ninjas, but since they wore full face masks, and carried big swords machetes, and could become completely invisible as they worked, I’m pretty sure they were ninjas.

My yard, full of invisible ninjas chopping down my bamboo.

By Tuesday afternoon, their work was complete. My neighbours can now open and close their windows with ease. My shady, secluded yard is sunny and bright. (The morning sun managed to make its way into my bedroom before 6am.) My leafy grove is a row of 5-foot tall jumbo-grass stubble. My cottage looks like it’s been the victim of a terrible haircut…which may be why you never hear of ninjas retiring and becoming barbers.

The Japanese word age-otori means ‘to look worse after a haircut’. I wonder if it also applies to landscaping done by ninjas?

Adventures in Village Life #1

It’s been a long day, and spending the day trying to function in another language seems to have curtailed my usual verbosity. So, instead of regaling you with stories, I’m hoping that tonight, a few pictures of my new ‘hood will be of interest:

1. The giant beetle that tried to break through my front door last night. That’s a square-foot tile he’s sitting on.

2. The local convenience store, which the teachers refer to as the 7-11.

3. The gas station at the 7-11. (The 2 pumps behind the woman are the gas pumps)

4. The school bus.

5. My after-dinner view.

Now, I’m going to climb under my mosquito net, and try to fall asleep before the monster-beetle starts knocking on my door again.