For the first time all week, my newly repaired motorbike allowed me to return to being the independent woman I always prided myself on being. I could finally drive myself to school, and a sly smile of confidence spread across my face as the engine roared to life. Sheets upon sheets of rain had finally broken the dry spell of hot season. Our parched and discontented souls rejoiced and then complained when the excess of this humid luxury caused a flood that spilled forth into the neighborhood streets of Chiang Mai. But, rain or shine, I was going to drive to school myself, because I finally could. Pride comes before a fall. Or, in this case, a swim. Other than the normal fight for survival from the seat of a motorbike in morning traffic in Thailand, all was well until I curved around the round-a-bout to see a friend with a somber face and orange vest holding up his arms in a cross. I sent a weak grin his direction and pulled off my su...