Sundays in Isan

It is Sunday at nightfall and De Inquisitor is sitting in the backyard with his entire family. Wonderful temperature, slightly below thirty degrees, a very soft breeze. Crickets, frogs and some birds provide a pleasant background noise. It is just enough light to see a shadow walking, crawling or jumping over a branch in the bush at the back, you have to guess what kind of animal it is.

Apart from the natural sounds, there is nothing disturbing. No noise from cars or mopeds, no machines heard, not even music. It smells fresh and summery because no one is lighting a fire, no one is cooking on charcoal. We ourselves are also quiet, satisfied with ourselves and with each other. No mobile phone around, just enjoy. Each with his thoughts, peacefully, The Inquisitor dreams of elves again when the fireflies appear after dark.
This life is good.
It was a wise decision to close the shop on Sunday, seven days out of seven was too much.

When we made that decision, we also made an appointment. We would spend these Sundays as a family, and because we both realized that everyone has different ideas about that, mother, daughter and The Inquisitor, we would take turns choosing what to do.

The first time we went to Sakon Nakhon at the daughter's request. That is the closest city of size, about ninety kilometers from the village. The teenager wants more modern entertainment, understandably, the upcoming generations in Isaan are gradually becoming aware of other pleasures in life.
Instead of sitting together on a reed mat on the floor, where they play games. Or far from the world staring at their cell phone for hours. Or just hanging and supporting watching what adults are doing. Because they don't take much initiative, there is actually little exciting for girls of twelve to do here.

In the late morning in the car and first the miserable, three kilometer long road towards the town. Old 'macadam road', as it is called in Flanders, concrete slabs laid against each other. Full of pits and pits that, after three rainy seasons that De Inquisitor experienced here, have become very deep because nothing is being repaired. Many new pits have also been added, you can't go anywhere, you have to go through. The normally white concrete panels have turned red due to overflowing mud. The road also has a bit of a mysterious atmosphere due to the dense forest around it. Heavy branches, densely leafed, hang over the road, obscuring the blue sky, it is quite dark. You need ten minutes to cover a pitiful two miles.

Then you get a pleasant regional road. Winding through the countryside, you cross several villages that look pretty much the same but always have something special somewhere. One village has wooden stalls on the side of the road where they offer insects and other exotic foods. The next village specializes in making bamboo salads. Wooden houses too, nice looking that you want to put directly in your garden, although they would be of no use. Or do they offer decorative stone pots for plants. Or stone statues, brightly colored : chickens, giraffes, tigers, elephants, Buddhas, ... exhibited in large numbers. Then again fruit or vegetable stalls, the offer changes depending on the seasons. Hammocks, in all colors and sizes.
'Natural tools' as De Inquisitor calls it: handmade from bamboo and wood. Brushes, baskets, lying tables, fish traps, ... everything hangs together nicely, when you stop there there is so much choice that you buy more than necessary.
Always nice to drive through those villages because there is a lot to see.

After thirty-five kilometers we arrive at a larger track, two times two lanes, you can drive smoothly. But in the meantime, De Inquisitor has probably already lost a few thousand baht in three years, 'flashed' and taken a little further off the road. He always gets away with two hundred baht, after a good lesson the first time.
At the police trap, The Inquisitor chooses the right side, hoping that it will be too difficult for the duty officer to pull him aside.
Window open and a burly police officer, gorgeous in his starched uniform, cap pulled down deep and with eye-hiding sunglasses, smiling broadly. "Driving too fast sir." 'I ?' 'How many ?' "One hundred and twenty-three sir." 'Do you have a picture?'
The Inquisitor thinks he has won, but the officer's smile fades only a little. Behind The Inquisitor's car is already a row of six or seven people waiting. And yes, referring to the side of the road will be tricky because to his left is an equally large row of casualties. The Inquisitor overconfidently pulls out all the stops. "Do you have an official interpreter?"
Hoping that the agent will then let him go would take the man off his lucrative sideline.
He remains orientally mysterious, thinks for a moment, and then asks whether The Inquisitor would like to wait on the side for the rest of the day and then go to the police station. No, smiling a little pathetically, The Inquisitor has to admit that he doesn't like it. Then two hundred baht please.
From then on, De Inquisitor never again argued but dutifully paid.

An hour and a half after departure we are in Sakon Nakhon, where according to De Inquisitor there is little to see. Outside a tiny kind of Chinatown, but that can't match Bangkok. But there is a large shopping center, Robinson. Which, in addition to the traditional offering of multinational brands that are annoyingly becoming the same all over the world, also has many restaurants.
Daughter wants KFC. Find them exotic, pretty much her version of what the red ants-with-eggs are in the eyes of The Inquisitor. Then slowly stroll through the shopping mall. The Inquisitor has taught the love and daughter the term 'window shopping'. It was difficult, because Isaaners are also sensitive to the clever marketing. And then to the cinema. Dirt cheap and yet modern comfortable. Of course the volume at maximum.
The film ? My daughter had chosen something Thai. Thai spoken, no caption. After ten minutes the farang lost the thread. The subject was also typical: ghosts. But The Inquisitor had fun. In the shock reactions of his two companions. She apparently didn't bring that scarf against the cold - she kept it in front of her eyes during the ghost scenes... .

The second Sunday it was sweet her choice to go to the to go, a natural park with waterfall. There are three 'floors' that you can walk uphill through forests and rocks, but with Thai people you never have to walk far, we stick to the first floor. Sliding down between worn rocks in the flowing water, a natural wild water course, and then splashing into a deep pool. A lot more adventurous than those artificial things because no rules, commandments or prohibitions.
Beautiful surroundings, lazing in the shallower pools under the trees, and because we were there quite early it was reasonably quiet, we thought we were alone. Funny was that brother-in-law, of course he had to come along from eega, his pants ripped open at the back during our frequent descents in the wild water course and he had to walk around with a towel for the rest of the day … . But hunger calls, we continue after a few hours of water fun.

We are in the Buen Khan area, beautiful area. The rice fields have disappeared because it is hilly. Rubber is grown here, endless cultivated forests. In the distance, the integral structures of Phu Tok, a temple complex, hang against a mountain wall. The Inquisitor is enthusiastic but is corrected : today it is daughter's choice. We drive on to a very large lake, well known by the locals. Tasty Thai-touristic restaurants that compete with each other with an identical offer: cozy bamboo salads strung together on the edge of the lake. A huge menu, much to the delight of De Inquisitor, of Thai food, nothing Isan. Delicious soups, fish, shellfish, crabs, shrimps.
Only sitting at the knee-high table is rather difficult for De Inquisitor, who gives up after an hour of moaning, groaning and sighing. And nestles in the available hammock and then promptly falls asleep. So brother-in-law and daughter go jet skiing, the sweet must have nestled next to De Inquisitor because she is lying next to him when he wakes up an hour later.

Free Sunday number three it was the farang's turn and he decided to develop activity at home. Barbecuing in the garden, eating fish from our pond. We had a lot of fun catching them because it was agreed to work without landing nets.
The fish was delicious, De Inquisitor had put some larger specimens on aluminum foil, mixed them with vegetables and herbs, wrapped the aluminum foil tightly and then put them on the fire. They don't know that here, but it was greatly appreciated.
Afterwards we held a kind of badminton tournament, without net, without lines, but with referees, taking turns. Take that outrageously funny side if necessary. Because of course children from the village had come to the garden frolic, and you don't keep them outside, do you?
And then, in the evening, just the two of you to relax in the hammock. Each with a cold beer in hand. 'Face-booking' together. She reads and responds to reports from family and friends, he, at sweet request, searches for examples of small swimming pools.

Say yourself, little or nothing to do in Isaan?