Destroying my faith in Humanity

I didn't mention it in my last post, but my bike was stolen from the school two weeks ago. It was shocking. Stolen? In Nong Chang? But how could this be?
Nonetheless, it was gone and I was hoofing it everywhere. The walks were nice, and I was even able to notice a few new things about Nong Chang. One of which was a bike identical to mine with a new home in front of a mobile phone shop. I noticed this specimen while walking to the Sunday night rehearsal for my Monday night modeling debut.
I was running a little late, so didn't have time to do much about it. I, quite visibly, inspected the little green sticker on the back fender, the light attached to the front wheel, and the strongest evidence, the broken bell installed backwards on the right handle bar (perhaps the only one of it's kind in the world). The man working out front saw me examine these things as our dialogue commenced in my broken Thai:
"My bicycle... who did it?"
the man simply looked exacerbated and pointed downward, as if to say "here"
"who? who?"
pointing here, pointing here
after a minute or so a woman came out, relatively irate, and made it clear that I was to leave. I tried to contact a Thai friend of mine to come and speak on my behalf, but to no avail.

When I got to the rehearsal I explained to my director and fellow teachers what happened. They didn't seem interested at the time, but the next morning my director went with me to get my bicycle back.
I eventually found the shop again, but, alas, no bicycle. He questioned them and apparently they had taken it to get fixed. Somewhere through the course of the conversation I was asked if my bicycle had a basket "like this one" and the director pointed to a new, black basket. "Yes... well, not like that one, but it had a basket."
Eventually we left the scene, with me very much in a state of confusion. Apparently someone stole her bicycle and replaced it with mine (right), and we were going to the shop to see if it was really my bicycle.
When we arrived, I saw the light that I had pointed out the night before sitting in the basket. The bell had been removed, and the sticker on the back fender covered with another sticker. I got emphatic, "Yes! I am sure this is my bicycle! Look what she's having done!" and I explained the three signs of "mineness" that she was having removed.
From there we proceeded to our third destination, to speak to her "cousil." What he meant by cousil I have no idea. Perhaps "cousin" (which can generally mean any relative outside of immediate family) or "council" (but having a lawyer seemed unlikely).
He sat and talked to the "cousil" for a time and the woman showed up seeming very angry and shooting me daggers. Eventually we left to retrieve the bike, only to find the final insult. She was having the old rusty (and bigger and better in my opinion) basket replaced with a brand new black one!
I was shocked when my director paid for the chop job, but I have learned better than to argue with anyone, especially my boss, over his willingness to spend money (trying to get out of paying for it would have lost him terrible face and it was not my place to interfere, it was his money and his bike).
At some point during this process the woman drove up, furious, and began talking to the bike shop owner about me. I'm not sure exactly what was said, but apparently I had wronged her some how in the process of getting my bike back.
Now, whenever I see her in town, she is either on a motorcycle or another bicycle (while I was obviously confined to walking by her theft) and she gives me the nastiest look the human face can muster without being obviously hostel and losing face.
I had noted that a pink (obviously a lady's) bike had appeared near my bike the day it was stolen (though it had been hidden behind cars on that particular day). I thought perhaps this was her bike that she believed stolen. Although this didn't justify her taking my bike, I saw no reason why she shouldn't have her bike back. I attempted to explain, and she became irate, and rude, and shooed me away, unwilling to hear what such a villainous farang would have to say to her.
What shocks me is not that she stole my bike. That was obvious from day one. But that she resented me for getting it back. That she felt that I had wronged her by attempting to retrieve my bicycle from the thief who just happened to be her. It baffles me still, and goes against everything I have violently held onto of my naivete about human nature.
I had convinced myself that everyone does things because they think they are good, and now I have found a woman who is simply a ball of malice and selfishness and refutes everything I held on to.

Perhaps I'll have to rethink politicians now as well...