By: Iris P. Concepcion
This place is at the northern part of Thailand and is called Yala.
The people here look like Indians. The young men and women, in Muslim lavender gear, drive their Honda motorcycles daintily. They look pretty and proper.
Universities and other schools are located in just one area. Education seems to be a very valuable and valued commodity here. Instead of shopping malls, you see constructions of school buildings done opulently. Tutorials in English abound.
I could not speak Thai; the language has quaint and beautiful intonation though. I have still to visit its famous temples. I have seen one on my way to the Coliseum, its own version of a shopping arena. The temple reverberates a rich history in a glance; it looked sublime and serene from the outside.
The food stalls here seem to bear daily themes. Today, it is fried chicken and green oranges (dalanghita).
I took a glimpse of a picture of a squid walking in one of these foodie joints. The main entrance to the city has a trimmed version of a tree in the shape of an elephant.
I likewise passed by domed "aratiles" tree from back home bearing sampaloc fruits. I never allowed myself to get spooked by the weird nature mix.
I likewise passed by a huddle of people planting flowers on the road. Volunteerism is a way of life here. I asked for the flower's name in pine pink that is too good visually it could be mistaken for a cotton candy. I was not understood. I just exchanged smiles with the gardeners as they scooped down the rich soil for autumn and spring to fictionally grow. It is blossoming, blossoming, blossoming.
Subduedly artistic but rustic, this place reminds me so much of the television show Northern Exposure set in Alaska minus the biting frosts.
Its traffic lights are digitally managed like a New Year countdown (Stop. 50,49,48,47,......0, Green, Go!).
The locals are quite smug about the abundance of superior technology that is obviously surrounding it.
I passed by a mini Sunset Boulevard minus the French sexuality. Instead, I saw a curious blue hotel named "Galaxy". It looks like a palace.
This is Arkansongkor and I am passing by Suntisok Road.
I love looking at the condiments peddled by the sidewalks. Placed in small plastic containers and tied with rubber bands. The colors of spices are pleasing. They do not look like food; they look like paintings.
Everyone takes leisure in opening up their businesses every morning. They seem extremely content. Mercedes Benzes and BMWs are parked beside Toyotas without any fear of thievery.
I walked further and saw a place named Hair Do. The door specifically says "Adull Hair Do Center Of Fashion". Hilarious.
It looks drab inside; it is a barber shop with only one chair and a grinning customer. The saloonist went out of his way to open his door for me. I could not understand what he was saying. I think he wanted me to have a haircut. I gave him a high five sign, smiled, and left.
I presume this is Thailand's Knowledge Park. Everyone here loves drinking milk.
They have their white lights planted on the ground. The lighting is film-like in effect.
I switched on the television set and the actors and actresses looked like my neighbors in my Philippine hometown. I could not help but excrete chortles in total metric cadences.
I am getting used to the mixed quirks. I love its understated "backward" fashion. They are funny when worn.
This is compact Asia and it is getting the vibe of the most clueless comedy in a hidden concave of creative imaginings.
The best tasting waffle in the world is here. Vendored by a Caucasian who looks like an Indian writer or a whitened version of M. Night Shamalayan.
"At night I see fleets of futuristic buses. Be ready to hop in."