Human Perspective on Development and Environment

What is Solidarity?

2011-11-21T05:15:00.001-08:00

Here in Khon Kaen, Thailand working as a member of a group and visiting villages every few weeks, the term solidarity has come up a few times. It seems the more time passes, the more frequently the term is used. The question though is what is solidarity in terms of these issues? What does it mean in the villages?

On a journey to discover what solidarity really means, one telling village was that of Ban Huay Top Nai Noi. Not only does this village share passion and drive, but they have a plan. Made up of villagers from two different surrounding villages, this protest village was formed to protest a dam project upstream. These villagers’ homes were not going to be flooded, but their farms, their livelihoods, were. In 1995 the protest village formed in the flood zone of the proposed dam project. Paw Sampone said, “We moved to the flood zone because if they want to build the dam, build the dam. But, if you retain any water you will be killing people.” The power of their mission is not just for themselves however, it is for the land and the people around them.

In 2011 the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) was finished for the dam project. The people decided though that they would not move until the EIA and SIA (social impact assessment) was done for surrounding villages and dam projects. They are part of a greater network, working towards one goal—protecting their way of life. For communities we visited on unit 4, potential or previous dam sites, the river is more than a source of water. The flooding created or exacerbated by dams is not just detrimental to the crops in the farm land or the homes in the area, but it completely destroys livelihoods.

For example, in communities affected by the Rasi Salai dam, the end of the rainy season has led to absolutely no source of income for the people. The wetlands, their original source of food and crops, are flooded. They cannot gather crops that have been sustaining their families for hundreds of years. Their farmlands are also flooded because of the dam reservoir, to the point where the can only get around some parts by boat. Many cannot even walk to their farms to see how much damage has been done. The final aspect of these villagers’ income come from handicrafts made and sold at the local learning center. The center is up to the roof with water because the land the people were given for the project is located on the banks of the reservoir. The supplies to make most of the crafts come from their fields as well. So without farm land just a few weeks before harvest, no crafts and no place to sell them, the dam has led to no financial stability or security for the people of Rasi Salai. Their homes may not be flooded, but they continue to band together because without the other community members, some families could easily go hungry.

This community serves as a mentor for that of Ban Huay Top Nai Noi. They have provided guidance, comfort, and support during the hard times. They inspire the people of Ban Huay Top Nai Noi, and encourage their fight. Even through the violence that has occurred, the people of the protest village stayed in their new location. Their presence is a fight, it is a message. “We do this for the land. Land cannot regenerate but people are born everyday.” Their strength comes from each other. “Where ever we go, we go together. We share everything, not just knowledge.” These words of the community members are what enable the movement they are a part of. They have a cause and support and the strength of their community is what true solidarity looks like. They stand, fall, live and fight together.

Julie Yermack
University of Richmond

Rethinking Development

2011-11-21T02:07:00.001-08:00

The road through Rasi Salai District is lined by water on both sides – an enormous lake stretching as far as the eye can see. However, I notice a handful of trees poking their leafy crowns above the waves, and realize that this vast lake is in fact a floodplain resulting from the Rasi Salai dam. CIEE students spent three days in this village, learning about its history, the construction of the dam, and the diverging opinions of ‘development’ between anti-and pro-dam citizens.

Our first day in the village, our group met with a representative of the Royal Irrigation Department (RID), the governmental division that manages the dam and its irrigation systems. The representative noted, “I have to admit, I don’t think conservation and development go in the same direction.” This notion is popular within the international community, particularly in the United States, defining development in terms of economic gains and linear ‘progress’. In terms of dam building, the United States began this move towards ‘development’ with the Hoover Dam, constructed in 1936. Since then it has continued this trend, and financially benefiting from such projects, further reinforcing this as a norm of development and setting the precedent for the international community.

Eager to develop in the same way, Thailand established a number of development policies, beginning with their plan for economic development in 1961, which would focus on managing natural resources, industrialization, and infrastructure. For dams in particular, Thailand proposed a number of dam projects, including the Kong-Chi-Mun Project under which the Rasi Salai Dam was built.

However, development need not be defined strictly by linear progress and economic gains, as the villages affected by the Rasi Salai dam provides an alternative approach. NGO and dam-affected villager, P’Blaa contends that Rasi Salai is using community organizations and projects so that conservation and development can work together.

In this way, Rasi Salai’s approach to development is based very much around their traditional relationship with the environment. For decades prior to the dam’s construction, the villagers relied heavily on the free-flowing river and wetlands for their livelihood. Their knowledge of wetland plants, roots, and mushrooms is extensive, and their style of catching fish and other aquatic animals is rooted in old traditional methods. But today, the environmental changes caused by the dam, including flooding, habitat alteration, and water quality changes, has forced the villagers to change their old way of life and adapt to the now less fruitful environment.

Despite these problems, caused by the government’s ‘development’, the village still develops in accordance with its own values. In their approach they use education to preserve cultural traditions, and create projects and organizations to provide community support. In this way, the village is able to support each other culturally, emotionally, and financially (through their own welfare fund), to develop with strength and sustainability.

This alternative approach to development is one that Thailand has yet to fully appreciate. Development is still popularly viewed to be synonymous with economic gains and linear progress, rather than something in harmony with conservation of local traditions and the environment. However, by not valuing conservation, development plans will eventually dead end due to ecological imbalance or resource depletion, and take local culture and community with it.

Liza Wood
College of Charleston

Media in Movements

2011-11-21T01:59:00.000-08:00

Most recently we spent time in the Rasi Salai community located on the Mun River, in Srisaket province. This community has experienced substantial and ongoing effects from a nine-meter concrete dam built by the Thai Department of Energy Development and Promotion in 1992. Local groups protested this dam and pressured the government to conduct sufficient environmental and social impact assessments. Since, the Rasi Salai dam has been recommissioned for seven years under the Royal Irrigation Department.

We spent time speaking with both villagers and NGOs about ongoing projects from the recommendations in the Social Impact Assessment. As the community has settled some of the compensation issues, they are looking for more long-term support in restorative community projects. At the time of the protest, there was media coverage regarding the demands of the people regarding the resource and livelihood deterioration the dam was causing. Even then, one news source ran a story requesting the interviewees refer to the dam as a “big government development project.”

Now, many years later P’Banya, an NGO working with the Rasi Salai community is still using media as a way to document the wider communities’ restorative efforts. “Media is an import part of grassroots movements,” P’Banya tells us, “it’s a way of telling stories about our own struggles, to communicate these with others.” In exploring mechanisms for telling human rights and grassroots messages, our student group has gotten the opportunity to see media as an important tool.

Since 2009, there are more local reporters who are interested in stories on people’s movements including events in the Rasi Salai community. Both video and images can also tell a story through the media, as it is important to present a more objective perspective that allows the audience to understand factors at play and the people’s perspectives. Thai PBS is a channel on mainstream television that has aired stories from the people’s movement. NGOs hope their work with Thai PBS will eventually lead to the inclusion of more community stories in mainstream news. The NGOs themselves work on stories for The Isaan Voice, a regional newspaper, Facebook and blogs. A community radio station is in the works, but funding is hard to come by so long after the dam construction captured the attention of a wider audience, both in Thailand and abroad.

For now, Thai PBS is funding a project to document the Wetlands People Association and their organizing around cultural celebration at the Rasi Salai learning center, although the area is currently flooded due to high water levels in the dam reservoir. Meh Sii and other community members are excited about the media as a way to gather support for ongoing community development projects, including the prospect for a green market in the future.

Morgan Tarrant
Davidson College

Fragmentation of Responsibility in Government

2011-11-21T01:55:00.000-08:00

During this past unit in which we learned about the dam and water management problems in the Issan Region, we had the pleasure of visiting the Rasi Salai District office of the Royal Irrigation Department (RID). At the beginning of the exchange, Banya Bak Cha Goon, the exchangee, gave a short PowerPoint presentation. In describing Thailand’s governmental structure for managing natural resources, P. Bak Cha Goon explained the complicated network consisting of sub committees, committees, district offices, national offices, and the vice prime minister, among other branches. When I heard this, I couldn’t help thinking that this framework would make communication and decision making between governmental groups extremely difficult. This sentiment was reverberated when we asked him about the status of the Hua Na Dam, another dam in the Rasi Salai district and he responded saying that because he was not on the subcommittee that dealt with the Hua Na Dam, he was uninformed of the current situation. I was very troubled that the Head of Water Operations and Management did not know about what was happening to a contested dam in the same district.

This was not the first time, however, that our student group received this type of reply, as we heard a similar comment when exchanging with the Phu Pha Daeng Wildlife Sanctuary. These two incidents are evidence to me of the fragmentation of responsibility within Thailand’s natural resource management offices. I think that this lack of discourse within governmental branches and field offices has also hindered community participation in decision making because the paths of communication villagers could use to voice their demands are often fractured.

Although some responsibility should fall on villagers to continue trying to convey their problems, the serpentine top-down structure that I have observed does not aid their cause. I am not suggesting that the Thai Government should abandon their organization tactics but I am proposing that a better exchange of information would help ensure that the demands of those whom the government is trying to help (the people) are being heard and met because right now, based on my experience, they are largely being ignored and communication has been a common excuse for these failures from government officials.

Alex Waltz
Carleton College

Is There Room for Thailand at the Preservation Table?

2011-11-21T01:39:00.001-08:00

I’m confused and uncomfortable. I’d even venture to say that it feels like I’m in a state of mental limbo of sorts.

I left my beloved Ann Arbor this past summer and descended upon Thailand thinking I knew exactly where I stood in terms of my own environmental ethics and practices. I mean as someone who is finishing her last year as an undergraduate I should know.

My views were challenged on a recent unit trip we took, the topic of which was land rights. The problems that the communities we exchanged with encountered mostly revolved around their relationship with nationally established wildlife sanctuaries nearby, which are essentially preservation areas. At the core of the issue was rights to the land and accessibility to resources on said land. In many cases, the villagers had been living in a given area and growing crops there or foraging in a nearby forest for several generations. However, the establishment of a sanctuary resulted in drawing of boundary lines that excluded villagers from their land and denied them access to resources they’d been reliant on for decades.

To anyone who has even a basic understanding of what preservation means, it might seem logical that the wildlife sanctuary severely limits villagers access to resources within the sanctuary’s boundaries. It makes little sense to have a preservation, the purpose of which is to protect an ecosystem and all of it’s components, only to let people come in and take things to sell or use for their personal consumption. At least this is the viewpoint I more or less adopted. I’ll defer to Aldo Leopold, the father of ecocentrism, who came up with a fantastic working definition of preservation in The Land Ethic when he said, “A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.”

I have good intentions behind why I believe preservation of unique ecosystems is important in that I like to think there’s intrinsic value in nature. Thus, the importance of preserving such ecosystems outweighs human reliance on or desire to use and [potentially] exploit such resources.

However, I came to find that my view is too simplistic in the case of Thailand. This is not a country where wilderness was overpowered in favor of industrialization and thus confined to an existence in national and state parks. Thailand is still green, and very green at that. With this in mind, I wonder if the western idea of what preservation means is appropriate for Thailand. I don’t mean imply that I think Thailand should not be concerned with preserving its ecosystems; rather I think that a different definition of preservation is more feasible and applicable here. Of course I don’t hold the answer to this question, but I am starting to recognize some of the components that might prove useful for such redefinition in the context of Thailand.

In the past two months I have been here, the fog has started to clear and I’m coming to understand that the culture behind peoples’ interactions with nature here is totally different than in the US. Villagers here have a longstanding relationship with the land that many of us have lost touch with back home. Given that their livelihoods are dependent on their immediate surroundings, many villagers show genuine respect and appreciation for nature. I think they see both the intrinsic and instrumental value in nature, which is why they’re able to strike a balance between using nature but also cherishing it given that their lives, and the lives of their predecessors, depend on the preservation of such a relationship. Thus the western construct of what preservation is seems inappropriate in the case of Thailand, and possibly the rest of the global South, given that the western ethic it is based on is also completely different.

In an exchange we had during this unit, the way that the leader of Huay Ra Hong [village], Paw Praset, explained the relationship between people and nature is telling. In response to a question one of us asked, he said without any hesitation, “The community relies on the forest. Without the forest, the villagers cannot live their lives. The soul of preserving nature is within every farmer.”

So does preservation have to be put in the hands of a national organization, such as government, or is this idea simply one way to practice preservation?

Jenny Vainberg
University of Michigan

The Last Farm: The Next Generation of Farmers and Land Rights

2011-11-21T01:37:00.001-08:00

Coming off of the agriculture unit, we learned that many Thai farmers are worried about whether there will be a next generation of farmers. As farming becomes a more difficult and less financially stable livelihood, fewer youth are interested in pursuing it as an occupation. Moving into the land unit, questions about the next generation of farmers continued to come up. We learned that this issue is even more complicated for communities who have been evicted from their lands by the government and are currently illegally squatting. It is not just a matter of getting youth engaged in agriculture but also ensuring that the community has the land for them to farm.

The communities that are struggling most to keep the youth engaged in the fight for land reform are those that have also internal conflict within the community. Huay Ron Ha, a community in conflict with the national park and government established wildlife sanctuary, has had problems with divorce, drugs, and alcohol. Meh Die, a representative from the NGO who is working with Huay Ron Ha, explained that “land issues have created domestic problems that drive many youth in the community to use drugs and alcohol.”

The communities succeeding the most are those who have an organized structure that promotes the success of the community as a whole with a focus on helping youth develop an appreciation for the land. In the Baw Kaew community, villagers hold each other accountable to a list of standards, have regular village meetings, and are currently working with the Isaan Land Reform Network to obtain a 1500 rai community land grant that would include a 150 rai community farm. Kao Baht provides education for the youth about farming and has grown one of the last varieties of sugarcane in order to teach the younger generation about the history of agriculture in the area.

Even with these efforts, all of the communities are struggling to grow a next generation of farmers. Many depend on youth to get jobs in order to financially support the family. Land rights battles have resulted in villagers having to pay bail when they are put in jail, money for their court cases, and other emergency needs. Although communities want farming to continue long-term, teenagers and young adults must go to the cities to support their families in the short-term. As a result, youth are forced into the cycle of working in the city and often never learn the skills to be a farmer.

Some villages are confident that the youth will return when they get too old to work in the factories. Witchoonai Silasee, a community organizer in Baw Kaew, says, “farming is in their blood so it won’t be hard for them to re-start that way of life when they come back”. Others, however, are worried that their farms and the fight to take back their land will not be sustainable. As Pie Toon, a villager from Kao Baht emphasizes, “we are worried...the government is always trying to advertise people to go in and work in the labor sector. We are fighting to get the land back but the government is trying to steal our land back. But because we don’t have land and nowhere else to go, we have to go to the labor and the industry.”

It is scary to think about the long-term effects of losing land (that may not be so far away). We are dealing with very similar issues in the United States as the “average age of farmers climbs to 57 and farmers under 25 drop by 20 percent” (npr). Losing land means losing farmers, and when the farmers are gone, we no longer have a voice over where our food comes from. It is time to remember the importance of being connected to the land, the source of our survival. As Paw Muung, a farmer from Kao Baht emphasized, “the relationship between land and people is not just reforming the land but reforming the mind of the people”

Kaitlin Roberts
Davidson College

Ethics of Forest Preservation

2011-11-21T01:30:00.000-08:00

Transitioning from Unit 1 to Unit 2 has presented an unexpected experience - as if the glasses we wore for Unit 1 to read between the lines weren’t working well enough for our new unit. In Unit 1 (Agriculture), it was easy to see that chemical agriculture promoted by the government was clearly wrong and that organic, integrated agriculture was right but Unit 2 (Land) had more gray lines.

The general situation is as such - communities had lived in the forest for at least 50 years until the government came and set up national parks and wildlife sanctuaries around 1999. Afterwards, the interactions between the state and the communities became very tense - the park officials would constantly arrest the villagers for trespassing on their own land or forcibly remove them and destroy their crops. The villagers suffered from unclear boundaries and lack of cooperation from the courts and local leaders that hindered their process of attaining community land titles.

However, from analyzing the conflict of land titles and forest preservation, it seemed like the villagers weren’t completely right and the government wasn’t completely wrong either. The villagers were being denied their livelihoods and kicked off their land but they weren’t truly living sustainably in the forest. On the other hand, the government unfairly charged the villagers for trespassing and global warming but the officers had to enforce the laws set in place. So I began to see another argument - why should these villages be given a community land title if they didn’t practice sustainable development and drew an excessive amount of resources from the forests? Why couldn’t they live somewhere else so the forest preservation officers could do their job?

Hearing all the different opinions on forest preservation - I struggled to define my personal ethics on forest preservation to try and reconcile the differences. I wondered whether our values of conservation and preservation were subconsciously influenced by the American idea of an “untouched wilderness” that caused us to believe that perhaps these villages shouldn’t be living in the forests. Now I believe that people don’t belong anywhere else if not the forest - how often do we see such an intimate connection between individuals and the land? The conflicts mainly exist because of the lack of communication between the state and its citizens and the government’s unwillingness to change its outdated, inaccurate laws that directly clash with human rights principles. The gap between our ideal values and reality create this dichotomy I wasn’t fond of. I find myself wistfully wishing for a perfect world where these conflicts did not exist because the forestry departments preserved land the villagers weren’t living on and the villages always practiced sustainable agriculture.

But that would only happen in the world of What-Ifs two hundred steps back into the past. What counts is that one step forward. Many of the villages we talked with have created rules for community forest management and seeking sustainable development. The new officer of Pha Daeng Wildlife Sanctuary even expressed hope for future cooperation and collaboration with forest communities to resolve issues.

In the end, I realized that despite the imperfections on both sides, reconciliation would be possible if we chose to look at the situation in the best light. The ethics of forest preservation exist not to judge but to guide. With that as a supplement to the Thai Constitution and the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, we should support the fight against these human rights violations not because the communities are perfectly right but because they are perfectly human.

Mary Lim
Georgetown University

Lands Rights and the Global Role

2011-11-21T01:26:00.001-08:00

On our Land Unit, our group focused on land rights and visited communities in the Northeast (Isaan) that have been directly affected by the economic development of Thailand. Thirteen villagers in Huay Gon Tha of Phetchabun province have been charged with causing Global Warming for working/trespassing on a corn field that belonged to the Wildlife Sanctuary. While the protest villagers of Baw Kaew of Chaiyaphum province are being sued/evicted from their land because their land was given to the Royal Forestry Department who turned it into a “reserve forest” and then let the Forest Industry Organization clear it and plant eucalyptus trees for paper.

We also had a chance to speak with the Pha Daeng Wildlife Sanctuary and the Pha Phueng Wildlife Sancturary who have carried out/monitored these situations. Both of them made it clear to us that preserving the forest was for the overall good of society.

Naturally our program’s themes of Development, Globalization, Oppression, Human Rights, Community, and Grassroots lead us to critically examine these situations. However, our group had a hard time with the idea of “preservation” while also analyzing the relationship between individual rights and collective rights through the lens of these themes. Analyzing the question of who should really be accountable was not as clear as our last unit on agriculture.

We looked at collective rights in a setting that debated National Forests’ meaning to protect and preserve nature for the benefit of Thailand and global citizens, especially with global warming and other environmental impacts, we now more than ever need to sustain what we have.

However, individual rights, in this context, are being heavily debated; meaning that individuals can now be blamed for the consequences of Thailand and the collective global citizens. The mentality is that collectively we should save the global community and preserve the forests because we (as a larger global community) have ruined it.

Our group began to break down and deepen our conversation about accountability. Who should be blamed and punished? Should it be the individuals who, according to the Thai government, caused Global Warming by harvesting corn for a private employer? Apparently the villagers (not the employer) are single handedly, “1. Causing the increase in Temperature, 2. Causing water to disappear from the area, 3. Causing reduced rainfall, 4. Causing the loss of soil, 5. Causing the loss of nutrients in the soil, 6. Causing the soil not to be able to hold rain water , and 7. Causing damage to the forest.”

Looking at it from a collective context, globalization has everything to do with the system and creating problems like these. I would like to identify the term eco-colonialism. Colonialism in general has become a huge part of globalization, but now the negative consequences have led to the destruction of the environment. How we deal with that has become a shallow effort in reconciliation. As a result eco-colonialism is happening in these villages. The spread of half-thought-out environmental factors has now affected individuals and infringed on basic human rights. Some villagers lives are affected because the world can’t seem to respect the environment and now the blame is being put on individuals who are trying to live a more sustainable life than most.

More questions. Should it be the structure? Should we all be held accountable for our actions, collectively? Which should it be and how would we determine a punishment? Personally I keep seeing these connections on such a personal level. I know, as an individual I am a part of this web or system. The main question for me now is how do I deal with it?

Kati Fithian
Whittier College

Protest Villages in the Northeast

2011-11-21T00:59:00.000-08:00

Had I not known better, the hour long jungle trek on a huge makeshift monster wheeled truck through flooded dirt roads felt more like the trip to a rebel base camp instead of the village of Kao Baht. Yet, it could as well been a rebel base since the establishment is a protest village, where the villagers illegally reclaimed land that they were expelled from by the government in the 1970’s. The government’s reason for this eviction was to protect the villagers from the communist groups that were located in the surrounding forest, but later the government sold the land as a logging concession. The village of Kao Baht is small, but the villagers live in a very communal way with each member getting a small plot of land for their own subsistence farming and then each corner of the village there is a plot of land left for shared use. The village of Kao Baht is not the only establishment of its kind. There have been other protest villages springing up in the jungles of Thailand over the last ten years. Another protest village is Baw Kaew, which is a protest village located in the mountains of Issan. Baht Gao has multiple rules and conditions that members need to follow including, no alcohol or drugs and no promiscuous sexual relations. Despite the severe nature of those village laws, they serve the purpose of keeping the communities from giving the government a bad image of their community as well as to prevent internal conflict. For instance in Baw Kaew for a long time the villagers noticed a men in black stationed right outside the village gate, and later found out it was an employee of the government’s Forest Industry Organization (FIO) who was recording each person who came in and out of the village. Actions like this by government agencies trying to find every possible way to reclaim the land from the villagers, makes harsh rules necessary in these protest communities.

Both Kao Baht and Baw Kaew are extreme movements since they have literally occupied the land that they are trying to reclaim, even though this might lead to severe consequences for themselves and their families. What is interesting is why these occupy protests are starting to become more common. Most of these villagers were forced out of their land over thirty years ago, and yet are only resorting to these measures now. From interviews with the villagers, many of them talk about writing letters and attending protests but then admit that these efforts haven’t been fruitful at all. Of those who were relocated, usually the land they were given was much smaller than promised and much less desirable. Some villages were even promised that one day they could return. The constantly changing governments and coups that have defined Thai politics for the last century have not helped the situation. More importantly is the complicated system of land deeds in Thailand, and many villagers can only prove that they have rented the land. A lot of villagers also claim that the government took away their parent’s land deeds, and then denied that they ever existed. Thus, this occupation of the land is the build up of years of anger and a complicated and ever changing legal system.

What is even more fascinating is that these villages have been able to remain multiple years despite constant fear of eviction and numerous lawsuits filed against them. Although, many individuals are in legal trouble and there has been some violence, these protest villages are still standing. The success of these communities seems to be spreading elsewhere. For instance, in the news right now there are countless articles about the “Occupy” movements that started on Wall Street and have moved around the world. Just like the protest villages, the “Occupy” movements are people who are coordinating as a community and physically inhabit a space until their message is heard and their demands are met. It has yet to be seen if the method of occupying as protest will work for the villages and the “occupy” protestors in the long run, but so far these methods have created more attention than just having a short protest or writing letters to the government.

Ariel Chez
University of Rochester

Sticky Rice in the Northeast

2011-10-05T00:45:00.000-07:00

While at my university in Los Angeles, California, I occasionally order one of my favorite desserts—sweet mango sticky rice—from the numerous Thai restaurants in the neighborhood. Until I came to Thailand to participate in CIEE’s Globalization and Development study abroad program, this dish constituted the extent of my knowledge about this dense, chewy variety of rice. I never imagined sticky rice would be used for anything else.

I could not have been more wrong.

Sticky rice, or khaaw nieo in Thai, is a staple of Northeastern Thailand’s traditional diet. It grows well in the region (henceforth referred to as “Isaan”) and is typically consumed by rolling the rice into a ball with the hands and using it to pick up other foods in the meal. Unlike jasmine rice—a “standard” variety globally—sticky rice is steamed rather than boiled. It is glutinous and also comes in a number of colors, such as red, black, and white.

The Unit One Trip of the program, which focused on human rights and environmental issues surrounding agriculture and food, brought the CIEE students to numerous villages in Yasothon Province. We learned from organic farmers and community organizers about the significance of national agricultural policies, the effects of globalized technologies on farming practices, and the importance of food in Thai culture.

As Leedom Lefferts writes in his work “Sticky Rice, Fermented Fish, and the Course of a Kingdom,” Isaan people “make references to khaaw nieo . . . as mechanisms for the assertion of regional pride and ethnic group identity and cohesion”. Rice farming, likewise, is more than a profession; it is a way of life, oftentimes determining the activities of whole villages during planting and harvesting seasons.
Thus, when the government began to support monocropping of the genetically engineered rice variety Jasmine 105 in order to integrate Thailand’s national agriculture into the global economy, it was an affront to the very cultural foundations of Isaan people.

“Since 1960s, many developing countries worldwide, including Thailand, began embarking on the Green Revolution as the central goal of their agricultural development,” states Vitoon Panyakul, author of the report “Thai Rice: the Rice of Freedom”. He elaborates, “When farmers began adopting the improved varieties, they also had to adopt the rice farming technology package developed for the Green Revolution. This includes application of chemical fertilizers, intensive pest control with pesticides, and efficient water management through irrigation.”

As Supanee Taneewuth writes in Free trade Agreements and their Impact on Developing countries: The Thai Experience, “the government . . . developed high yielding varieties and hybrids with no concern for the impact on long-term sustainability. Farmers lost control of managing their own seed. Farmers have to buy seed, which was added to chemical fertilizer and pesticides as part of the input burden on farmers.” These hybrid seeds have to be bought every year, and the amount of chemical additives must constantly be increased as soil quality degrades with its continued use. With almost all of the seeds trade controlled by transnational corporations, the Green Revolution and its agricultural reforms have deprived farmers of the traditional wisdom, self-sufficiency, and autonomy they once took pride in.

In response, many Thai farmers have joined organic movements and grassroots organizations to resist and advocate against national policies promoting “improved” agriculture. They are renouncing the farming practices that alienated them from their traditional livelihoods, caused extensive environmental and health problems, and marginalized their indigenous food preferences.

After relishing red khaaw nieo at least twice a day during the week of the Unit One homestay, after seeing the deep connection my host family had with their rice fields and native foods, I can fondly declare:

Long live sticky rice.

Mariko Powers
Occidental College

Northeastern Thailand: On the Verge of a Life and Debt Situation?

2011-10-04T23:36:00.000-07:00

After spending five days in the Kudchum district Yasothan, northeastern Thailand’s “Organic Province,” I have an even greater respect for small-scale, organic farmers than I had before coming into our first unit (Food and Agriculture) as a self-declared, “Foodie.” The farmers of Kudchum reap the bounties of the land without using chemical inputs as a crutch, relying instead on traditional knowledge as well as community organizing and support. Along with other members of Thailand’s Alternative Agriculture Network (AAN), the farmers of Kudchum are role models for farmers all over the world, demonstrating the potential of the collective, bottom-up action of grass roots movements to effect change.

Reflecting on this unit, however, I am also left with the sinking feeling that some twenty years from now, the green, integrated, organic fields of Yasothan may once again be showered with chemicals, unable to withstand the agribusiness-powered monsoon. In our last exchange, one sub-district official in Kalasin province admitted, “We cannot withstand the influence of transnational corporations. We can only try to be as self-reliant as possible.” The sentiment carried throughout the rest of the unit’s exchanges; nearly all of the speakers emphasized the importance of work done at the community level, farmer-to-farmer, rather than any that was done to push government policy to protect small-scale farmers from the influence of transnational corporations.

“We have learned enough to know we can’t put all our hope in [government action],” explained one NGO official. Even coming from a democratic society, I know this to be all too true. Politics can certainly be a hindrance to effecting change. Up against the Monsanto “monster,” however, I remain unconvinced that grass roots movements can make any long-term changes without government support. The one example that still stands out in my mind is detailed in the documentary, Life and Debt, about the effects of international economic policy in Jamaica.

As Jamaica incurred more and more debt, government officials found it necessary to take on loans from the World Bank and International Monetary Fund, which would require opening up more local and domestic markets to international influence. In one case, Jamaica opened up the market for the import of powdered milk from the United States with zero to minimal tariffs. As a result, the sudden influx of cheap powdered milk pushed local Jamaican dairy farmers out of the competition. Forced to dump out gallons of fresh milk daily, many farmers were eventually left without a livelihood.

If Thailand continues to incur debt from international loans, and therefore continues to increase dependence on foreign governments and mainly, transnational corporations, what will protect the small-scale farmers of northeastern Thailand from a fate similar to that of Jamaican dairy farmers as depicted in Life and Debt? Even if small-scale farmers continue to decrease their dependence on external inputs, they cannot necessarily guarantee that they will be safe from the loss of markets in Thailand’s ever-globalizing economy.

I by no means have the answer to what strategy small-scale, organic farmers in Thailand should take, only the concern that without the support and protection of government policy, the movement will be unsustainable in the long-term. The same Kalasin sub-district official explained that farmers have “no power to negotiate with the government.” So how do farmers gain that power? Again, I certainly do not have the answer, but I am not sure that grass roots movements do either. It is certain, however, that the question must be answered to protect the people of northeastern Thailand from a situation of Life and Debt.

Amelia Evans
Santa Clara University

Cycle of Greed

2011-10-04T20:53:00.000-07:00

Prior to coming to Thailand, I viewed food safety as something the U.S Government took care of. As a country, I was aware that we had banned agriculture chemicals from our soils to not only ensure the safety of the workers but the consumers as well. Never had it crossed my mind that the chemicals were banned from use, not production.

The exhaustive issue of chemical use on products externally from the States that are then imported in stuns me. This had been a topic long removed from my thought. I knew of complexities in food issues, but I never thought I had to worry about banned chemicals still ending up in my food.

Exchanging with organic farmers throughout the Issan provence of Thailand with CIEE, we were continually ask to take action against U.S chemical companies importing banned chemicals into Thailand. It was through this that I came to understand the worldly impact of a ban on a chemical. “There are many banned chemicals from the United States for sale in Thailand,” describes the Alternative Agriculture Network (AAN), a national NGO that assists farmers in transitioning into the organic market. With growing awareness of food systems within the U.S., chemicals now seen as unfit have found new residence in developing countries that lack the governing restrictions.

Corporations have been able to successfully make deals with the government to support and encourage the use of chemicals on crops. “From 1991 onward, imported pesticides were exempted from all taxes and levies,” states Vitoon Panyakul in a study of Thai rice by Green Peace South East Asia. Through this transaction, corporations have an outlet to distribute product and governments can now hope for higher yield and production.

Yet, these products create vas health issues. “I feel that they are trying to destroy us,” says Meo a small farmer who has switched to organic production since witnessing health effects from chemicals. “Thailand is amongst the countries with the worst records of pesticide abuses, especially from over use,” state Panyakul. Currently the Thai Government is in the works of allowing four new chemicals to be introduced for agriculture use. A protest held to rally against this had a span of multiple generations of farmers who voiced their voices against the chemical industry.

In an exchange with the AAN, regional leaders left us with this, “Although the chemical is used in Thailand, please remember that the products that are produced in Thailand are being exported to your country. This chemical is bad in the States and is used in Thailand. But you go back home and you still have a chance of consuming a product that has been contaminated by the chemical. So in order to stop this, Thailand cannot fight on its own, it needs allies from other people and other countries as well.” The small scale farmers have switched to organic farming for a reason, “It isnʼt right to grow food that isnʼt safe for consumers to eat,” explains Anon Nieulai, a Green Market Farmer.

Itʼs been asked for us to take action against this violation of well-being. Itʼs our role as students, itʼs our role as Americans, itʼs our role as humanitarians. Stop the suffering from these harsh chemicals of the producers and the consumers, they were banned from the U.S for a reason.

Sara Stiehl
Pacific Lutheran University

Community & The Urban/Rural Divide

2011-10-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

We stayed in two villages over this past unit. The first, Bahn Dong Dip, was transitioning to farming organic sugarcane and rice. We stayed there for one night, and had an exchange with them about their process. The second, in Yasothon province, had transitioned long ago to integrated organic rice farming, growing most of their own food and selling the surplus. (The group was in several different villages, we never learned exactly where we were.) We were there for four nights, exchanging with the villagers and NGOs. Both villages had their own distinct struggles, but both showed a commitment to community support that struck me.

It seemed like everyone had a part to play. Especially in Yasothon province, where I sat in at a meeting for one of the groups involved in the area. I’m pretty sure it was called the Love Nature Network, but a Google search pulls up nothing, so perhaps something was lost in translation. There were about 90 people there representing 90 families, my host dad being one of them. He was actually a speaker, one of the earlier members in the group, when it came to Yasothon province a few years back. These 90 people gathered to learn about and discuss the organic movement in their area, and how they could work within their own community to include others and improve the process. This is the way it was in Dong Dip as well. Villagers came together to improve their lot in life through a shift in process.

It was all very impressive to see. There was a spirit of self-sufficiency in everyone we exchanged with. The government isn’t looked on too kindly here, to varying degrees. At the very least, everyone agreed that the government doesn’t have the best interests of the farming majority in mind. Corporate interests take precedence because of the Thai government’s interest in joining the global economy. Progress is seen as raising the Gross National Product, and these farmers feel like their needs are being ignored. Most farmers in the country are growing for profit, growing the Jasmine 105 rice that the government supports, and have to buy their food from market. On top of this, the government is supporting the use of chemical fertilizers that are banned in the US, the EU, Africa, and most of the other Southeast Asian countries. This is the issue the villagers in Bahn Dong Dip and Yasothon province have gathered around, and the reason they have decided to remove their ties to the government where possible, growing organic and selling their surplus in their own markets.

Since the beginning of our trip it’s been apparent that most people living in these villages are older. My parents this last trip were in their mid 50s, and all trips before that, my parents ages were similar. There are children running around, but no one who could really help on the farm. Thailand only guarantees education up to the 6th grade, but many families see their children through high school and into university. These children typically don’t come back to the farms; instead, they find work in local cities. For those who don’t complete school, they try and find work in bigger cities. What’s interesting though is that when these children have children of their own, they typically get sent back to be raised by their grandparents. It’s unclear whether or not all families eventually come back together, but there is still this bridge between the urban/rural divide that keeps the community bonded, somehow.

My second host mom this past trip spoke a lot about warm families; her two children are working or are in university. She misses them a lot. Hopefully, she said, they would come back to help on the farm. Otherwise there won’t be anyone else to keep it alive. She seemed confident, though, and she still has a whole community of support behind her.

Aiden Forsi
Cornell University

I consume too

2011-06-12T17:31:00.000-07:00

There is a level of superficiality with which I previously went through my life. Without thinking as critically as I should have, I could go on long car rides in the middle of the night with my friends, not wondering about what it means to own a car or waste gas. These things didn’t matter if I was having fun.

The concept of becoming a more conscious consumer first arose during Unit 1, when I realized that the food I regularly consume might be contributing to environmental degradation, as well as destruction of peoples’ livelihoods. I had considered conscious consumerism previously only in the context of the clothes I bought. I previously felt like I didn’t have the time to research where my clothing came from, so I only bought used clothing because this at least somewhat quelled my guilt.

I cannot believe that investigating these things was not previously a priority to me. I can’t believe how easy it was for me to continue acting in ways that was destructive towards the earth and fellow humans.

Learning about mining reinforced these ideas in a very big way. I own an Ipod, a cell phone, and a car. Where did the materials that make up these technologies come from? Did a mining worker die of emphezyma in the mine that produced the pieces of my car? Was a river filled with toxic sludge from a mine that produced parts for my phone?

The question of what to consume and why is still a huge struggle for me. I don’t need a cell phone, but my life is seriously enhanced by it. I don’t need a car, but in order to get to my internship this summer, an internship with an organization that seriously benefits its’ community, I must drive there. How do these things add up? Is the pollution I’m producing from my car not worth learning about how to be a better, active citizen?

There must be a balance that can be maintained. I now know how destructive the production of these products are, and I now feel like I can take personal responsibility in doing further research into where my metals are. But to completely isolate myself from society, to live completely self-sustainably on a farm in rural Rhode Island would make it fairly difficult for me to be doing the kind of work in cities that I want to be doing. This kind of lifestyle would take up a lot of time and energy, and I would not have the opportunity to do that which I really love. Although I think it’s really important to be reevaluate my values and making sure that my actions align with them, there’s a certain extent to which my life must be wrapped up in the suffering of others. I will do all that I can to reduce the destruction I inevitably will cause, but I must also not be overburdened by the guilt that comes with knowing how privileged I am.

The only solution I have is balance. I can bike more, and take public transportation more. I can grow two-thirds of my food. I will not be cajoled by advertisements and new technologies. I can live a simple and fulfilling life without retreating and isolating myself from the rest of the world. I can live without guilt, doing all that is in my power to help the world, yet courageously accepting the limits of that which I cannot do.

Mirah Sand
Simon's Rock College of Bard

Spreading Knowledge

2011-06-12T17:29:00.001-07:00

A professor once said, "Knowledge is meaningless if you don't affect multiple levels." What I've learned during these intense last three months is that the scope of knowledge itself is relevant. An organic farmer will value how to make her/his own compost fertilizer over knowing how the chemical components in fertilizer help break down the soil; on the other hand, an NGO covets the skill to conduct research so that they can provide as much information to a community as possible. What is important to know shifts relative to where a person is and what that person is doing. Most importantly, knowledge, as a general rule, should not only serve the area where it was gained, but must transcend to higher and deeper levels to be more effectively sustained.

Like "knowledge," the words "development" and "globalization" also have very different meanings depending on a person's perspective and location. For a company like the Puthep Mining Company, development plays into globalization when erecting a copper mine in order to give Thailand more clout as a global player in the international market. To a community of fishermen working to preserve their wetlands after being flooded by a dam, development and globalization might look like increasing members in their movement by extending to other communities in the world dealing with the same issue.

If knowledge is dependent on where you are, and knowledge is meaningless unless shared, then different places' knowledge-base must be shared with other people in other places. To some, this sharing of knowledge is one method of development. To others, this is also globalization at work: It is spreading skills and resources to increase knowledge in other plans. But the paradox comes when the resources being shared are destroying the integrity of a place, then the resource is irrelevant to have. As soon as infrastructure as development impedes on intellect as development, then something's gotta give.

Just as knowledge must be shared and interpreted through different lenses in order to practically implement it, there needs to be interaction between multiple players on the global scale when discussing ideas of development. Large-scale development schemes that have the potential of impacting hoards of people need to first reach an understanding with the people it would be affecting to weigh the pros and cons of erecting the project. Ideally, this is what an EIA is meant to fulfill (whether or not this process is righteously carried out or not is another story).

The daunting "project time" has begun. Our DG group is splitting up to spread our collective knowledge on globalization, development, and human rights out among the Isaan region. Despite our separate focuses and goals with each project, each of us are playing the role of educator in one form or another. We are all acting in part as researchers, compiling information to enhance the fight of the effected community with which each of us will be working, based on the need of each community. Our development is our globalization: we are taking the knowledge that we gained while studying here and our previous knowledge from before we studied abroad, and spreading it throughout multiple communities so that they may develop their organizations to become more efficient and more powerful.

Jamie Martina
University of Pittsburgh

What does it take?

2011-06-12T17:26:00.000-07:00

Excitement is illuminating rainy mid afternoons, late nights finishing assignments and time intensive work with small groups as we move into the last phase of our program. It is a high siphoned from our new found understandings about the world and the places we want to fill within it and the realization that we will go home empowered to take action in our communities because of what we have seen and discussed here.

After every unit, we make ‘next steps’, a brainstorm of the things we as individuals can do, or do differently, to remediate the serious injustices we just studied. This easily escalates into a very frustrating experience: what can we actually do about dams in Thailand, or more importantly, the globalized capitalism informing anyone who initiates these large scale development projects in the first place?

My question tonight is why it has taken a trip around the world, afternoons navigating rice fields, eucalyptus forests, tropical wetlands and mountains rich in copper ore, for us to begin analyzing our world?

The need for 20 students with a new found consciousness, willing to take the time to engage in the actions we dream of taking, is immeasurable within the country we will be returning home to. But, this is exactly the point. Our own communities are victim to many of the same injustices we have mourned here.

The unresolved affects of the BP oil spill, two public wars as well as many private interventions such as plan Colombia, a torture center in a country whose existence we ignore, growing wealth disparities, immigration, gay marriage, segregated and unequal opportunities in our public schools, a democracy that seems to be representing the interests of major corporations rather than it’s citizens…
Moreover, while in Thailand, the articles which struck me most were written by people like Michael Pollan and John Steinbeck, or published in the New Yorker and Orion Magazine. These articles not only focused on problems at home but the sources in which they were published came from the states as well.

Not only do we have the problems, but the resources to discover the information of these atrocities are almost too accessible. Every student here has a laptop as well as a university library overflowing with details, informed professors, public commentators that can share their differing opinions unabashedly…
Why were we so unaware; what was getting in our way?!

I think it’s a façade that Thailand gave us a perspective far enough removed in order to see problems at home for what they are. I think that we exist is spaces too comfortable to force us to look outside ourselves and not only question the bigger picture but empathize with those in our own community suffering from less opportunities than we have had the privilege to enjoy.

In the end, why it took Thailand may not matter, because we have pushed the boundaries that were limiting us. We have begun questioning ourselves and our world. Our experiences together are impossible to account completely, and what we have learned, for now, feels like something that will extend into the parts of our lives that last beyond this semester, but, it is just something I have been considering.

Cassie Peabody
University of Michigan

Buddha on a Mountain

2011-06-12T17:19:00.001-07:00

Huay Muang is a community in Thailand fighting against a copper mine being built on a mountain which many villager’s livelihoods depend on. It is also an important cultural component of their village. This mine would potentially contaminate their drinking water, destroy the environment and wildlife that is engrained in their culture, and ruin the farms of hundreds of villagers. I was able to visit this community and tour its beautiful landscape, help my host mom on her farm, as well as eat and talk with the villagers.

One of my most memorable moments there was one easy going night after dinner. My host mom told me and a fellow student to get on the back of her and my little sisters motorcyes. We went off-roading past banana trees and then through her rubber tree farm. We then got to a dirt path which led to her farm next to a small mountain. We picked herbs while the sun was setting and then headed back home. Driving through the beautiful green mountains at dusk with nothing but nature surrounding me was surreal. The nature entranced me and I felt so connected to this place I had only been in for two days. I cannot imagine the connection the villagers have with this land which they have working on their whole lives.

During my time there I was also able to learn about this community’s strong connection to their religion, Buddhism. I helped build a Buddha statue on the mountain that the proposed mine would be built on. The statue was not built for the purpose of stopping the copper mine but rather it was a serendipitous event. A monk living in a different province said he was contacted by a spirit, to build a Buddha statue on the mountain next to Huay Muang. So the monk traveled to this community in order to build this statue. The motivation and dedication of the villagers and monks, working morning to night to build this statue was inspiring. The entire community coming together to make something that would benefit everyone was a beautiful things.

The energy and attitudes of these people were contagious and overwhelming. It was amazing to see this statue built from the ground up with people who believed in the purpose and were strongly connected to this statue. This statue was so much more than rocks and concrete, it was a symbol that represented their culture and solidarity of the community and nature together. It was made for the love of Buddhism, love for the mountain, and love for the community.

The villagers told me this statue could act as a protest. So if the mining company came to destroy this mountain with the Buddha statue, they would be destroying Buddhism. Even though I only spent a few days in this community, I was already connected and it would break my heart to see a copper mine put in. How could anyone who has spent more than a day in this community contribute to building a copper mine which could ruin the environment and destroy the way of life these villagers have had for so many years? I thought about this more and came to the conclusion that this mine will not be built by people who have lived with these villagers, participated in their cultural ceremonies, and hear their stories. To the people deciding to build the copper mine or not it is nearly a dot on a map with potential to make large profits. And the share holders probably have no idea what their money is going towards, but just want their dividends every month. What does it mean that the main investors and people in charge have the power to make such large impacts on places they have never been to and people they have never met?

Anna Craver
Northeastern University

Justice

2011-04-19T02:10:00.001-07:00

“There would be no suffering if there was justice.”

Wanida Tantiwittayapitak made this statement in 1997 during a speech entitled, “Why do we have to help the poor?” As a founding member of the world-renowned Thai social movement, The Assembly of the Poor, Wanida pinpointed systematic discrimination and injustice as the avenue for change. In empowering villagers throughout Thailand to join the movement for political and social transformation, she organized some of the largest protests known in Southeast Asia. The protests of the Pak Mun dam on the Mun River in Ubon Rachatani Province has lasted over twenty years, and nearby communities still continue to fight. Her model has been replicated in the modern movements against dams in the Isaan region of Thailand.

During the Water Unit, we had the opportunity to visit villagers affected by the Rasi Salai and Hua Na dam construction. These dams are intended to produce electricity and irrigation for surrounding regions and the country as a whole. Instead, the results have been the displacement of tens of thousands of villagers, the loss of traditional fishing and agricultural livelihoods, the depletion of wetlands culture, the ecological destruction of the rivers and dependent habitats, and the salinization of water sources that consequently make intended irrigation impossible.

Oftentimes, the effected villager’s voices appear quieter than the corporate businessmen and government officials who control development practices in Thailand. However, with the help of organizations like the Assembly of the Poor, they have learned their collective voice can speak volumes. It can be heard past the walls of the concrete dam and its rushing windows of water. It can be heard past the police and military officials who blockade peaceful protests on dam property. It can be heard all the way to the central government in Bangkok after spending months protesting as democratic citizens in front of parliament.

After witnessing the profound changes in individual lives that came from participating in people’s movements, we’ve started to question, is there still a need for protest? In American culture, our post-industrial society has subtly turned citizens into consumers. Instead of feeling empowered when we vote, we feel empowered when we buy. In this context, it’s easy to misplace consumer responsibility for systematic change. Instead of asking, why do I need so many products, we recycle them. Instead of asking why people are poor or uneducated, we volunteer to tutor the underprivileged. Instead of asking, what are the root causes of hunger, we donate to a food bank.

If we were to start asking these questions as a society, we could create justice-oriented citizens. By identifying where inequities stem from, we can find ways to contribute to the deeper issues. For example, instead of donating food, we can find out why the food system has unequal distribution across borders, why monocropping has replaced self-sufficiency, why chemical fertilizer is more expensive than food for one’s family. By articulating the root causes and finding the key players, such as corporations and government policies, we can begin to demand political and social change.

How is this change best affected? As we’ve learned throughout the program, change occurs through groups. Oftentimes, these groups work from the bottom-up, from marginalized sectors of society, and with deep connections to their local communities. Seen through movements like those against dams in Thailand, one might expect protest to be the answer. But it also requires redefining protest. I see protest as justice-oriented citizenship. Not necessarily rallies or direct action, unless those are seen to be effective, but instead how one chooses their job, raises their children, partakes in community, raises awareness among family and friends. To me, these are all acts of protest.

Through my experiences in Thailand, I see protest through education. By raising awareness among both youth and adults, by empowering our minds and our collective voice, we can create positive and peaceful change. At the Rasi Salai dam, a learning center was founded in December 2010 to teach younger generations about the importance of local wetlands culture. As Wanida stated, there would be no more suffering if there was justice, and to promote justice, we must each enact our own small form of protest.

Austyn Gaffney
Transyvania University

Sustainability, According to the Villagers

2011-04-19T02:05:00.000-07:00

The sun is rising, the day is starting out sizzling, and there are nearly 100 people standing within feet of the nine tents where sleepy students lay. Any other day I would most likely still be asleep, however it’s 5:30 in the morning and I hear the sounds of pickup trucks and people laughing, and decide it’s time to get out of bed. I craw slowly out of my tent to find villagers piling into the 30 Rai area, housing the Tamm Mun Network Community Sufficient Economy Learning Center, in the Northeastern Thai Province of Srisaket.

Today is the day; the day the villagers have spent months planning for. Today villagers from all different districts and provinces in Northeastern Thailand will gather along the Mun River to celebrate their (wat tan a tam) culture and (wit tee chee wit) way of life. The need for such celebration stems from the necessity for the villagers to preserve their culture and way of life. For the past 20 years, residents have been fighting to sustain their livelihoods from the Khong-Chi-Mun Irrigation Project and the potential construction of more dams in the northeast; which, if built, would destroy the culture of river communities.

Sustainability, according to the villagers, means sustaining their livelihoods so future generations can know and enjoy their lifestyles. Meh Rampan Chantarasorn, a Learning Center leader, explains it perfectly, “Before the dam was built these different communities were friends. They lived together. They were brothers, sisters, and lovers, living in the wetlands. The flood has broken culture and relationships. This center is to bring this culture back for future generations. If we don’t preserve it, youth will never know about it. They won’t know the word wetlands, only the word dam!”

Thinking about the usage of the word sustainability in northeast Thailand dared me to think about how the term is used in the villages of Isaan verses the ways in which the expression is commonly used in America and other first world countries. For these Isaan villagers, the word sustainability is far removed from the culture of the word in developed countries. In America, the word sustainability seems to pop up on every supermarket shelf, on every billboard, and on every commercial advertisement. Being sustainable has turned into a fashion craze that the mainstream media has picked up on. But what does this world really mean? For most Americans, and people living in developed nations, I believe the term generally refers to the desire to protect the planet by reducing our carbon footprint, buying more “eco friendly products,” and driving a high-gas-mileage vehicle. While applying these practices to our everyday lives seems sustainable; is it really?

Over the past couple of weeks I have learned how to fish using a homemade fishing net, how to weave a sticky rice basket, how to look for and catch crickets, how to plant and harvest rice, how to properly do an Isaan dance, and how important it is to preserve culture. For the villagers effected by the Hua Na and Rasi Salai dams, sustainability means sustaining their livelihoods from the destruction of commercialism and capitalism. Sustainability to these villagers means living off of the land that they grew up on, it means eating food that is caught or grown on the surrounding land, continuing ancient celebrations, using instruments reflecting the culture, speaking in the local dialect, and eating the incredibly delicious treat of (kaew neow), sticky rice. Sustaining and protecting the planet doesn’t happen by supporting large corporations and businesses selling products made halfway across the world, or buy buying items that contain a “green” label. According to the villagers, in order to really be sustainable we must preserve ancient cultures and protect the livelihoods and way of life for villagers, threatened by corporate greed, around the world.

Julia Peckinpaugh
Transylvania University

Is GDP the Way to Measure Success?

2011-04-19T02:01:00.000-07:00

This past week our program has been focused on water issues specifically on Dams as a source of energy and irrigation. Over this week I expected to think of grassroots movements, the environmental and cultural impact of dams, as well as the political forces that guided their building. While I did learn about these things the topic that was on my mind most during this unit was GDP (Gross Domestic Product.)

As an economics major at Beloit College I decided to study abroad in hopes of taking a break from studying the economy in order to explore my other interests. In actuality, being on the CIEE program in Issan, Thailand has only served to bring me into direct contact with the economic theories I studied in the classroom at Beloit. I can not get away from economics because it directly guides government policies, especially the concept of GDP.

After only a few months we have noticed a very dominating pattern in Issan. The Issan people live in a traditional sustainable way, the government decides that the region is not contributing enough to GDP so implements a project that will “help the poor people of Issan” by boosting their economy. This past unit it was a dam that would destroy fishery and flood several communities but increase government spending. They were also built to create domestic energy, reducing imports, and to irrigate non-native jasmine rice fields to increase exports. Though it was discovered that Issan region is not suitable for irrigation dams because salt deposits underground are released by the pressure caused by the dam’s reservoir.

During our first unit the government encouraged previously self-sustaining farmers to contract farm and use chemical fertilizers. Our second unit, we learned that farmers were kicked off of their land so that tourist resorts could be built and companies could come in to start eucalyptus plantations. All of these actions created a poorer quality of life for the Isaan people but potentially boosted the overall GDP of the country. The problem is that GDP does not measure wellbeing, it is the measure of a countries yearly output. All the money that has been moving around the economy is added up. So if one person, say Thaksin, generates a lot of money, while all of his neighbors are impoverished and starving, the GDP will show that the community is doing great. But the GDP of a fishing village, that sustains itself from the land and the community around it, will be extremely low which people will use as an indicator of extreme poverty.

While GDP is obviously a poor indicator of the wellbeing of the economy it is the measure used by all countries to guide its policies. That is all countries excepting Bhutan. In Bhutan a measure called Gross National Happiness is used. While happiness seems immeasurable Bhutan has come up with an intricate system based on nine domains: “Psychological Wellbeing, Time Use, Community Vitality, Cultural Diversity and Resilience, Health, Education, Ecological Diversity and Resilience, Living Standard, and Good Governance.” Though only here for a short time, all of my peers know enough about Issan to realize that if the Thai government was focused on GHP instead of GDP, Issan would not have many of the problems it is facing today.

Sofia Noorani
Beloit College

“I Will Not Shut My Mouth”

2011-04-19T01:58:00.000-07:00

Lèse majesté, or crime against the monarchy, has been prohibited in Thailand for more than a century. Since 1932, when it was first introduced to the Thai constitution, lèse majesté violations have included any “insult” against the King, whether written or spoken. In 2009, Thai courts accepted 164 charges of lèse majesté, far more than any other country in the world. That year also saw what seemed to be disproportionately harsh sentencing against Red Shirt activists, who oppose the current Thai administration.

Red Shirts have been persecuted outside the legal system as well. In the April-May 2010 military crackdown, the Thai Royal Army killed 92 people, almost all of which were Red Shirt demonstrators on the streets of Bangkok. After the crackdown, public outcry forced the administration to establish a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) to investigate the events surrounding the violence of April-May 2010.

In Unit 3, we traveled to Bangkok to speak with Dr. Khanit na Nakhon and Somchai Homla-or, two leaders of the TRC. We also spoke with human rights experts Dr. Sriprapha Petcharamesree and Kwanvaree Wangudom to learn about the ways students can get involved in fighting against human rights violations in Thailand and elsewhere. What we learned was that political activism starts with educating ourselves rather than educating those around us. We also learned that real progress is made when we can identify core problems and fight to remedy them. One of the core challenges facing Thailand is limited speech, which has taken the form of the Computer Crimes Act and lèse majesté laws.

Upon returning from the unit trip, I was able to interview Chiranuch Premchaiporn, a woman who may face 50 years in prison under a regime which is unwilling to accept criticism. As you can see from the profile below, Chiranuch taught me about hope and perseverance in the face of a seemingly impossible challenge

“I Will Not Shut My Mouth”
Chiranuch’s Fight for Open Dialogue

Two days.

That is how much notice Chiranuch Premchaiporn is given when she must make the long journey from Bangkok to Khon Kaen each month. The scramble to Isaan is a reality she faces while detained on bail, as she is required to travel at least six hours by bus to check-in at the provincial police station, located more than 470km from her home. After her March 25 hearing, she was notified that she would not have to return to Khon Kaen until police hand her case to the court. The handoff is still yet to be determined.

Her trips to Khon Kaen were precipitated by a local Khon Kaen business man that she had committed lèse majesté. “[Making me come to Khon Kaen] is obviously meant to harass and intimidate me. I think the person who filed the complaint did not expect me to enjoy Isaan. But I have some friends here who try to make sure I have some activities to do every time I travel to Khon Kaen so I don’t just go to the police station for five minutes and leave.”

Premchaiporn is one of 164 people charged last year under the lèse majesté law and the Computer Crimes Act. She was first arrested in March 2009 for not promptly removing comments that were allegedly insulting to the monarchy posted to the online forum she moderates at Prachatai news source.

Despite the sensitivity of her case, she has never closed her story off from the news media. “I don’t want to be involved with a conspiracy or some lobby behind the scenes. I want to do everything in public, and I want to be transparent,” she said.

Her desire to be transparent lies at the foundation of what she wants for Thailand: the freedom to have open discussion about the issues facing the country.

“In the past we were under the illusion that Thailand was at peace and people were friendly and open. But actually we are not open. Now people are beginning to understand that we live in a conservative society,” she said.

She began to champion open discussion and non-judgment long before her work at Prachatai. These ideas stemmed first from what she calls a “flexible upbringing” and were fostered in her work with ACCESS, an NGO aimed at providing support for people living with HIV/AIDS.“HIV/AIDS work is about being non-judgmental and about counseling. It helped me open my mind to something else, rather than sticking with what I had always believed.”

This attitude of non-judgment translates directly into her work with Pratchatai, where her main concern is to create an open space for all ideas and perspectives. “There are political conflicts. People have frustrations. They want to talk, and they want to discuss,” she explained.

But for now, open dialogue is not possible because people live in a climate of fear. And cases such as hers do little to encourage Thai people to express themselves freely.

“We used to think we lived in a country where we could say anything we want. But there really are limitations on the things we can talk about.”

That is why she now dedicates her energy to the new Article 1-1-2 Awareness Campaign, which seeks to disseminate knowledge about the lèse majesté law. The campaign, which launched March 27, also encourages debate about solutions for the issues posed by lèse majesté. The movement is encouraging to Premchaiporn, who finds strength in growing public interest surrounding the issue.

“I will not shut my mouth. I will keep talking to the press,” she explained. “This is not my problem. It’s a social problem.”

Despite the legal challenges she is soon to face in the Khon Kaen judicial system, she has remained remarkably optimistic.

“It’s not nice when I have to go to the police station, but I like Isaan. I really like Isaan people,” she said.

Dan Cohn
University of Rochester

Copper in the Backyard

2011-03-31T21:52:00.000-07:00

Unit 3 has been a whirlwind –in less than 72 hours we have been able to connect with different villages to talk to them about solutions, and not just the problem they are facing. My team of six traveled to Huay Muang, a village that relies heavily on the surrounding mountains for their livelihood. Phu Taeb mining company is threatening the integrity of this community and 14 surrounding communities by proposing a copper mine in these neighboring mountains.

What struck me the most was a recurring theme of conflicting intentions within the government. The land the mountains lay on has been declared as National Preservation Forest, yet the government granted Phu Taeb company permission to survey the land. To summarize, this surveying involved digging 280 holes throughout the “Preservation Forest.” It is ironic to see that the land is being destroyed by the same stakeholder that aims to preserve it.

We learned in the past unit the complexities surrounding land tenure in Thailand. For Thailand, ideas of preservation and conservation sprouted from a department that was formed to oversee a logging and later cash-crop industry. Ideas of preservation arose to keep up with global players, like the United States. But in reality the motivation of capital gain and economic growth that the government was formed upon still lives on.

I don’t want to automatically assume Thai government is bad, but in every unit we have studied thus far, the root of the problem always lies at the hands of the corrupt government. For Huay Muang this sentiment manifests itself through the lack of transparency from the government and Phu Taeb they have received.

Villagers from Huay Muang were approached by Phu Taeb in 2005 asking to dig 28 holes on the land. After securing 230 rai of land from the villagers and government, they dug 280 holes. Besides these holes, villagers were unaware of the intentions Phu Taeb had for their community –the proposal of a copper mine. Further, community members had no idea about the potential health and environmental implications of a copper mine.

The Loei Network of Monitoring Effects of Mining Industry Policies funded under the Loei Fund for Nature Conservation and Sustainable Development enlightened the communities of Phu Taeb’s plans.

Since 2008 this community has been mobilizing to prevent the construction of the proposed mine by creating the Poohinlekfie Preservation Network (PPN). PPN works mainly to raise awareness about the potential effects of copper mining and also networking with affected communities in an effort to bring solidarity to the cause.

Despite villagers’ persistence in preventing Phu Taeb’s plans, strangers were found conducting tests in the mountain on September 2010. Upon questioning, villagers discovered that they were professors from Kaset University testing ground water in Huay Muang for the Phu Taeb mining company.

There doesn’t seem to be too much government involvement in the events described, but it is really what the government isn’t doing that is hurting the villagers. Villagers wrote several letters to government authorities protesting the mine with no response.

The government’s ulterior motives will indefinitely show during the upcoming April 7 “public scoping” hearing to be held in Loei City. In order to conduct the Environment Impact Assessment, Phu Taeb must confirm majority approval from all stakeholders. This meeting will serve as such. Hopefully the outcome of this meeting and the role the government will play in the EIA (the process is often found to be ridden with corruption) will disprove my theory…

Meghana Anugu
University of Rochester

A Connection to Home: International NGOs in Rural Thailand

2011-03-31T21:30:00.000-07:00

I have always thought that I wanted to work with an international NGO in some capacity. In the past month, I started questioning this ideology for the first time. During the last two units, I have seen the importance of grass-root Thai networks such as the Alternative Agricultural Network and the Thai Land Reform Network in empowering villagers to fight for their human rights. Since this empowerment came from such a grass-roots level with everyone in the organization really dedicated and involved in the issues, I started to question how an international NGO could truly help Thai villagers. The international NGO’s I have experience working with provide funding to developing countries, but after seeing the importance of networking, the power in numbers and the importance of empowering people to fight for their rights, I’m wondering how much money from abroad can really do. And is simply providing funding that affective? How do you know where that money is really going and if it is really helping to empower and enact change? How do international NGO’s truly know how to help people when culture, language, and government structures are strikingly different in every country?

Unexpectedly, I gained an understanding of international non-profits in a way that hit close to home while on or our Community Consultation Unit trip. For this unit, I went to Baw Kaew, a protest village in rural Northeast Thailand. The Community Consultation Unit is where we, as students, visit communities and exchange with them to find possible project ideas or campaigns that we can help with at the end of the semester. Baw Kaew is interesting in that in the 1960’s the government took over the land of many villages in northeastern forest regions for commercial use to plant and sell eucalyptus trees leaving these people landless. Baw Kaew was set up as a protest village composed of people from all of these different villages who had been kicked off their land in invasive and violent ways by the government. After protesting for their land rights for about two years, Baw Kaew is finally in the process of obtaining a Community Land Title. Since they are confident in their attainment of land, Baw Kaew has decided to switch their focus towards becoming a truly sustainable community.

Their first step in becoming sustainable is to create a seed bank with the purpose of collecting and distributing local seed varieties that have been lost overtime due to expiration and the government promotion of cash-crops. This was one of many project ideas that we may be able to help with come project time. When I asked P’Promot, an NGO working with Baw Kaew, if he had any relationships with international NGOs, he answered that they had a connection with one international NGO called AJWS that is helping Baw Kaew become more sustainable. I immediately thought of American Jewish World Service, an NGO I have been in connection with in the past. But no, could it be? Could AJWS, headquartered in Washington DC, actually have connected with this small rural village of Baw Kaew?

After the interview, I asked one of the translators to come with me to ask P’Promot what AJWS stood for, and sure enough P’Promot confirmed that AJWS stood for American Jewish World Service”. I immediately asked what exactly they helped with and why he thought their help was valuable. AJWS provides Baw Kaew with the funding of staff and educational activities and also helps connect Baw Kaew with other international communities working towards sustainability. Under AJWS’s Fighting Hunger from the Ground Up Campaign, AJWS internationally promotes local food production with a focus on food sovereignty. AJWS is taking two village members to India in the coming months to network, collaborate and offer solidarity and support with other international communities’ sustainability approaches.

Needless to say, I am ecstatic than an international NGO I am familiar with not only sought out, but is helping such a hardworking and inspirational community like Baw Kaew. I now am starting to see, first-hand, the important balance of the collaboration between international funding and networks with a grassroots movement that empowers people for the success of a movement like Baw Kaew’s.

Lena Morrison
Brandeis University

Students Getting Active

2011-03-31T04:22:00.001-07:00

It is one thing to learn about human rights and social justice issues within the confines of a classroom or within a book or article, but it is fully another to be able to feel as if one can go beyond just learning, and take the immense gift of being a student into the realm of project execution, empowerment and involvement of creating change.

For the first 2 Units within CIEE’s Globalization and Development program, we traveled to various villages within the Northeast, Isaan region of Thailand where we researched, exchanged and physically observed many issues that the people are currently combating. There was a wide range of topics discussed, from contract farming, chemical fertilizer to land title rights. Although these trips were rewarding and immense learning experiences, Many of us were left feeling helpless and distressed, wondering how to move forward effectively with the gained knowledge of these presently occurring injustices and organizations working to contest them.

Finally, within the second month and 3rd Unit of our study abroad program, we were gifted the opportunity to put many of our ideas into action, as well as be able to actively participate in the possibility of creating real results. Three separate groups of students traveled to different locations with specific objectives in mind. One group traveled to a community fighting the construction of a copper mine, one to a village we had previously visited working on creating a local variety seed bank, and another went down to Bangkok to speak with key players involved in Thailand’s current political situation. During each trip the students interviewed and spoke with individuals directly involved in the movements, and were able to ask them about exactly what ways we can help them achieve their goals. Immediately upon each groups return, we worked rigorously to write a CCC report, or “Collaborative Community Consultation Report”. The CCC reports are documents regarding the topic of human rights and social organizing, each one thoroughly recording the issues that affect the community or group that was visited. The report also includes a chronicle of relevant histories, up-to-date statuses on the progress of the cause, and ideas regarding collaborative projects that students can assist in implementing in the near future. The purpose of this was to enforce a continued effort in establishing and maintaining reciprocal relationships with the villages, organizations, and people living within these regions.

In the next steps section of the report, students detailed the suggestions of the communities in what way to act now that they had gathered this information, as well as additional ideas that the groups had come to a consensus on to further their needs. Each community also was explained intricately to all other group members, insuring full understanding of each student in the issues and current situations so as everyone could possibly choose to execute the next steps. The groups all laid excellent ground work for the coming project time, a crucial and final element with our program where the time is set aside for executing these concepts into actuality through these specified project and compilations of educational materials.

I feel that as students, activists and global citizens it is our responsibility to cherish our privileges and resources that are at our fingertips. Unit 3 was our first step towards taking advantage of this, and gave us an idea of just how effectively we can assist in causes creating positive change. It is a great blessing to be able to be granted with such knowledge and work with such courageous and righteous groups and individuals, and I look forward to the coming months where we will be given a continued opportunity to step out of the academic sphere and into the role of taking action; this is one of the beautiful and satisfying aspects of CIEE’s DG program, and I believe should be more alternative learning programs that reflects this model.

Lyric Rafn-Stoffer
University of Minnesota – Twin Cities

A Seed Bank of Culture

2011-03-31T04:14:00.000-07:00

When you first look at Baw Kaew it appears like many other poor Issan villages: cluttered wood and grass huts, exposed to the environment and few amenities. But below this superficial speculation, lies a community that has reclaimed their land and is fighting in solidarity to take back what is rightfully theirs. For the last two years Baw Kaew villagers have been living in an illegal protest village to make a loud statement to the government. Their strong resistance to their government led the villagers on a five-day trek from their northeast Issan village to Bangkok. They took their proclamation straight to the Prime Minister demanding a community land title.

Since then Baw Kaew villagers and NGOs feel confident in their endeavors to receive this land title and want to make another statement to the public sphere about their radical community. The community is currently in a campaign transition from fighting for their land to living sustainably. They want to channel their focus and energy in educating the public about preserving local culture.

I had the opportunity to spend some time exchanging with Baw Kaew villagers, and the NGOs fighting with them, to better understand how this community wants to bring back Issan culture to the northeast of Thailand. They explained to me how their culture is disappearing before their eyes. Up until this point I hadn’t fully realized how much culture and tradition were tied to their farming practices. They don’t want other villagers to lose sight of the importance of Issan culture and those that have been using mono-cropping practices and seeds provided by the government have contributed to their vanishing livelihoods.

Issan livelihood is grounded in the land you live and work on. P’Nugain, a NGO for the Thailand Land Reform Network (TLRN), said, “Food shouldn’t be grown for profit but for household consumption.” With mechanized farming practices taking hold of the rice market farmers have to buy food elsewhere to sustain their families. There is little seed variety left in the farmer’s hands anymore and now eight percent of people’s incomes, living in rural areas, are spent on food not grown personally. That is why Baw Kaew’s campaign for local varieties has become the new focus of this protest village. Local seed variety is one step toward a self-reliant lifestyle.

Villagers and NGOs are working on constructing a seed bank in their community to have a common forum for other Issan villages to come and learn and exchange seeds. Today most rural farmers have no rights or voice over their own seeds and farms. By constructing this cultural bank Baw Kaew community members are working simultaneously to secure a land title and restore their local knowledge. A seed bank will allow for villagers to have an opportunity to return to farming sustainably. This campaign transition is legitimizing, even more, Baw Kaew’s fight for recognition as a community.

Sitting before these villagers and NGOs and hearing them all talk about the importance of preserving their culture, gave me goose bumps. The confidence and passion that was exuding from their words about their emotional connections to the land has never made me feel more inspired. This deep red clay building is not just a primitive infrastructure but also a symbol of Baw Kaew’s fight to revive their cultural roots. It’s an opportunity for these marginalized people to speak out on behalf of their heritage.
Walking through the village you are surrounded by handmade protest signs and banners, constantly reminding you of the fight these villagers are living in everyday. The new seed bank will just be one more reminder to the public that Baw Kaew will not step down and they will fight till their story is spread throughout Issan.

Cassie Schneider
University of Colorado at Boulder

The Importance of Land

2011-03-31T04:05:00.000-07:00

For the past two weeks we have explored issues of land tenure and land rights in urban and rural Thailand. During this time we read about issues, sat through economics lectures, and lived alongside three different communities currently wrestling the government for recognition of land ownership. As we learned about the history of land ownership, the changes in land ownership, and arguments as well as counter-arguments for who owns pieces of land, several of us were feeling like there was a disconnect. Land ownership being discussed as a human right was a hard concept to wrap our heads around, and I couldn’t figure out why.

I didn’t discover the origin of this disconnect until post-trip. After each trip, we are given two days to reflect on the meaning of the unit, to synthesize our understandings of the issues, and delve into global connections. One of our reflection questions asked, “Looking back at the US, what is your own connection to land?” The answer to this question and other US-related questions shed light on this disconnect I’d previously been experiencing. In that moment I realized why land rights, in a place like Thailand, need to be understood as human rights. Growing up in Hawaii, I lived on my land, not off of it. This distinction makes all the difference when it comes to the importance of land. The ¾ of an acre I grew up on was for luxury- for me to play tag on and later to spend time reading there. It was completely disconnected from either of my parents’ income. Yes, we could always mortgage our house for extra money, but the direct connection between my quality of life and where I lived was insignificant and hard to see.

In the areas we visited, this direct connection between quality of life and land ownership was far from anything I’d ever experienced before. Now that I’ve made this connection I am able to look back on our homestay experiences of this past week and I am able to see the gravity of the problem.

Toong Lui Lai, one of the communities we stayed with, was established in the 50’s. Since that point in time generations of families have established themselves as community members and primarily as farmers. Somewhere along the way the government declared their village as residing under the newly established Federal Reserve Forest area, thus making villagers technical trespassers. Shortly after this declaration, conflicts between the villagers and the government arose. Since 1973, over 100 individuals from Toong Lui Lai have been charged and put through the judicial system for using the land their families have worked on for over 20 years. When people are prevented from farming, their main source of income, and are ordered to pay fines equal to $3,000 per ½ acre worked on, there is more to the conflict than legal issues, it becomes issues of humanity. Most families we encountered have no other source of income besides farming on their land and without the ability to do so they’d need to pick up their families and move to an urban area and start from scratch. The futures of their families are at stake due to land politics.

Looking at how my own family’s income is far from related to our land explains why I didn’t initially understand. In taking away my front (or back) yard there’d just be fewer places for me to lay out- it would have no effect on future generations of my family. I will never be able to truly relate to the challenges that our friends in Toong Lui Lai experience due to their intense connections to the land, but what I can do is work towards understanding why land ownership is so important here in Thailand.

I now see land as more than a parcel or area of soil; I see it as a gateway to other rights and freedoms that contribute to increasing and protecting someone’s quality of life. As issues surrounding land here in Thailand are becoming clear to me, I am left wondering about what other issues I’ve overlooked due to my American understanding of a concept. Although this is a big question, I know that the only way to understand more is to open myself up to the challenges of this program and to not only evaluate what’s going on in Thailand, but what’s going on in my backyard as well.

Maddisen Domingo
Occidental College

Definitions of Sustainability

2011-03-31T03:52:00.000-07:00

As Paw walked ahead of me in the silent forest, the only audible noise was the soft crackling of leaves beneath his peeling leather boots. Sometimes he stopped, motioning and speaking in mumbled Thai towards one perfect rubber tree or a blackened kettle collecting sap beneath it. I followed blindly, looking on in disturbed awe and trying to process each identical, evenly spaced, vibrant green tree.

It may be easy to understand why one could be against the growth of such an unnatural, albeit beautiful, forest, as arguments of environmental concerns like soil depletion and mono-cropping arise. However, it is more difficult to comprehend why twenty liberal American students studying agricultural systems and environmental sustainability would be in support of these kinds of forests. What is the rationale for siding with villagers who aim to use their land to grow entirely unsustainable, invasive species like rubber or eucalyptus trees?

In understanding this dilemma, it is vital to understand varying definitions of sustainability, and whether this term can be understood in the way many idealistic students fantasize it to be.

In Toong Lui Lai, villagers have been struggling with the government for years in order to gain the rights to lease land their families have cultivated for centuries. Throughout the years, the government has implemented new policies for “environmental protection” and created “preserved” spaces, like “Wildlife Sanctuaries” and “National Protection Parks.” In doing so, they have indiscriminately redrawn land ownership borders without the consent or consultation of rural communities. As a result, many villagers that depend on the land have lost the rights to land that their families have cultivated for decades. Additionally, because the Thai government is increasingly striving to compete in a global export economy, there is more pressure on small-scale farmers to produce cash crops that will be readily sold on the market, rather than merely producing food to sustain themselves or neighboring communities. Thus, even if small scale farmers like Paw continue to cultivate and harvest their land, economic pressure forces them away from doing so in a sustainable way, the way their grandparents once farmed.

Based on this, it may seem that the government’s plan of “protecting” these natural spaces is more sustainable. However, rather than legitimizing its environmental protection claims, the Thai government often takes advantage of the land it obtains from villagers. Profits are made from this land as it becomes used for eco-tourism, sold to large corporations to be developed or even used by the government itself to grow cash crops like rubber and eucalyptus.

Thus, both sides of this debate over land use seem unable to effectively manage land in a sustainable way. So, instead of siding against all parties, it seems we tried to choose the lesser of the two evils: unsustainable practices by small scale farmers. Though many would like to go back to producing their own food and refraining from chemical fertilizers or cash crops, in many ways they are forced into this system. When villagers attempt to use their land to grow crops that do not require the chemicals required for many cash crops, they often remain unable to sell such crops in mass. There is no standard measurement of “organic” in Thailand and thus “organic” is not as valuable or marketable as it is in the United States.

After living with these families and attempting to understand the power dynamic that they are constrained by, it seems that many of us decided that it makes more sense to support those individuals that want to be sustainable (even if they are not), rather than the entities that often secretly choose to maintain such unsustainable practices.
I repeatedly nodded in faux understanding and genuine support, as my Paw attempted to explain the process of extracting sap from the rubber trees on his property. However, I still feel unable to reconcile my clear-cut definitions of sustainability with the complicated reality that I face in Thailand.

Joanna French
Whitman College

Development and Sustainability

2011-03-31T02:51:00.000-07:00

Just last week I was in Baw Kaew, a protest village in Northeastern Thailand. There, villagers are continuing their 30-year struggle against the Thai government for taking over their land to develop a eucalyptus tree plantation. The protest village is illegally set up in the midst of eucalyptus trees. Back in the 1970’s as part of the national development plan, the government believed they were aiding reforestation by planting eucalyptus as a cash crop, which expanded industry. In reality, the plantation took over local villagers’ farmland.

This past unit looked at the impact of government policies on land. In addition to visiting Baw Kaew, we had a home stay in a forest village community named Toong Lui Lai. Near the forest village, the government established area as the National Forest Reserve and then later the Wildlife Sanctuary, which designated land for preservation by arbitrarily drawing borders that overlapped with local villagers land. Subsequently, villagers have been arrested and charged for trespassing while farming for what villagers believe is their land. To give voice to their struggles, both Toong Lui Lai and Baw Kaew communities have united with the Isaan Land Reform Network of Thailand to go protest in Bangkok and ultimately to help them attain legal community land titles.

Today, I find myself back in the city considering the greater implications of these villagers’ long-term struggle against the government’s policies and actions. Considering the issues from the villagers’ perspective, it is easy to vilify the government and its policies. The government policies have created challenges to attain adequate living conditions and retain their means of livelihood and subsistence. Development and globalization often times jeopardizes the human rights of people as well as the sustainability of communities. The community visits show the trickling down affect of policy on the community members. The networks, NGOs and community organizers give voice and legitimacy to the people’s problems. . As I think about the bigger picture, I am questioning the roles and responsibilities of the government to its people in causing and curing these larger issues.

One important distinction that I learned is the difference between sustainable-development and development. According to the World Health Organization, “Development can be achieved at the expense of future generations' survival, whereas sustainable development specifically seeks to achieve development in a long-term environmental framework that provides for the survival of future generations.” I find it unproductive to vilify the government and constantly fight against it. It seems that Thailand, like other countries is in a compromising situation by taking on more development initiatives rather than sustainable development. The problem is that industrial development comes at the expense of the local villagers. With conflicting interests in mind, sometimes the issues and problems faced between the government and community seem overwhelming.

When we asked P’Pramote, one of the NGOs we met with on land reform issues about the key way to affect change he gave his answer in a series of steps.

1. Understand the root of the issue.
2. After understanding, analyze where it comes from and how it functions.
3. Figure out where you fit in the structure to create social change.

As I come to understand the concerns of the communities we visit, the roles and responsibility of government is becoming clearer. P’Pramote’s advice is applicable not just to the community organizer working at the grassroots level, but it is also applicable in addressing the inadequacies from the top-down policy level. In either position, it is important to understand the system by which policies are shaped and formed, because in fact they eventually affect the people.

Jennifer Schwarz
University of Maryland

The Cost of Rubber

2011-03-31T02:48:00.000-07:00

The most recent unit that we have finished was focused on land issues in the northeast region of Thailand called Isaan. Over the course of our unit trip, we as students uncovered a variety of issues linked to land controversies throughout Isaan. The most prevalent land issue that we witnessed was farm land taken from local people to be “preserved” by the Thai government.

We spent the majority of our trip in Toong Lui Lai, a village in the Chailaphum province of Isaan. The Toong Lui Lai landscape is incredible; lush green mountains towering over diminutive villages that scattered about the forests. The families throughout our homestay were more than welcoming, they became family. As our bonds became closer, we began to delve into the land issues facing the Toong Lui Lai villagers.

As a result of inaccurate land surveying by the Thai government, many innocent Thai people have been deemed “illegal” and therefore unable to use their family’s farm land. Instead of being cultivated by local people with local wisdom, the land is now used for preserving Thai nature by not allowing anyone to grow anything on it. The land is, however, turned into a variety of tourist attractions to promote more commerce and more economic development in the depleted Isaan region. Golf courses, eco-tourist resorts, or even “get your picture taken by the dam!” signs are now the appeals to get people to come to the northeast. Yet the damage that has been done to the native people is far more detrimental than anything the government could come up with. Or is it?

In the mid 1990’s, the government began distributing free rubber tree seeds and chemical fertilizers in an effort to make Thailand a leader in raw rubber material production. Many farmers throughout Thailand, mainly in the economically deprived Isaan region, were convinced to grow rubber trees versus an edible crop like corn or sugarcane. These ideas were later reinforced once Thaksin became prime minister in 2001, instituting “Thaksinomics”. One of the cornerstones of Thaksinomics is the phrase “One Tambon, One Product”, which indicates every subdistrict should focus its efforts on producing one product. In this case, rubber trees were the focus of the Toong Lui Lai village. Today, the majority of farmers in Toong Lui Lai and its surrounding villages grow primarily rubber trees.

Because rubber trees require farmers to use chemical fertilizers in its growth, farmers are now exposed to a variety of health problems. Moreover, the land that was once the farmer’s land, in an extremely muddled and unclear manner, is now owned and looked after by the government. As a result, farmers can now be charged with criminal trespassing and a civil lawsuit of violating global warming agreements, because of the use of chemical fertilizers and the growth of an environmentally unfriendly crop like rubber, Thailand made in the Kyoto Protocol. Thus is the dilemma of where do we go from here?

In 2011, the price of raw rubber material is estimated to double from $3600 a ton to $6300, due to its demand in China, the United States, and India. Therefore, it is in Thailand’s best economic interests to continue to grow rubber trees, although they are somewhat unnatural to the area they are grown in and their upkeep requires unsafe chemicals to both the environment and the farmer. However, Thailand must also uphold what it agreed to in the Kyoto Protocol and has a significant amount to gain from reclaiming land to be sold for carbon credits, although the farmers of the region are the ones paying the fines for “global warming” not the government. Overall, Thailand has a lot to gain in its GDP and a lot to lose in its weak efforts to care for its citizens.

Michalea Larson
University of Connecticut

A Sustainable Life

2011-03-08T21:09:00.000-08:00

Picture a farm. What do you see? A red barn, beautiful green pasture, rolling hills; perhaps you even imagine the sweet smell of cut hay and warm air brushing against your arms? Or do you imagine acres upon acres of corn. Or do you find yourself imagining a feedlot filled with mooing cattle and the stench of manure invading your senses.

Farms are something we grow up learning about. Old McDonald had a happy little farm with chickens, cows, pigs, horses, and a beautiful garden. We can only imagine that he also lived organically and sustainably. Of course his family was happy, well fed and had everything they could ever want. They weren’t worried about making a profit, or protecting their land from pollution.

Where is the reality in that story, I wonder? We are told everyday that farmers are disappearing and corporations are snatching up the scraps. Food is unsafe, filled with chemicals, and production is destroying the world.

Of course there has been a move towards living sustainably and organically, but until last week I didn’t see how we could ever go back to the happy story of Old McDonald.

Not until I saw my 73-year-old Pa plow his fields barefooted with a water buffalo did I see the truth and beauty in organic, sustainable farming. It’s not as if I didn’t believe it was best for the world and ourselves but I just wasn’t sure if it was possible to go back to the time before big machinery and chemicals.

According to my Meh who is 61 years old, they plow their nearly 15 acres of land with one water buffalo, use no chemical fertilizers or pesticides, grow nearly 100 varieties of plants, and loves her life. When I asked her if she had difficulties raising five children while farming, she said “No.” They grew their own food, didn’t owe anyone money, and didn’t need buy candies, or motorcycles to be happy. Her children have since gone to school to study agriculture but are planning to return in the next two years to begin learning from their Meh and Pa.

After seeing this perfectly sustainable system of life, I find myself confused. How can this family exist in rural Thailand living in such a way that they aren’t in debt, and have extra food to share and money to spare? They aren’t involved in contract farming; yet still find a market for their produce. They don’t suffer any health problems but are at the top end of the average life expectancy in Thailand.

When I was standing in the field watching my Pa plow his land with the dirt crumbling between his toes my Meh was nearby gathering long beans. The sun was setting; I could hear the cows grazing in the next field and I suddenly realized that this is what a real farm is. Organic and sustainable farming doesn’t mean having a sticker that says you don’t use chemicals; it means living in such a way that you understand the world around you in a way that is completely new to most Americans. It means working with the world to sustain ourselves not against it. It also requires considering what is necessary in our lives, what can we do without and what is just extra.

The first step is to just be aware of our impact. Once we do this we can begin to live a life that is more sustainable. And eventually, when we imagine a farm with a big red barn and green pastures, it will be a reality all over the world. Perhaps for me, I’ll imagine a Pa plowing his land with a water buffalo as the sun drifts below the horizon.

Kristi Huckabone
George Washington University

Migration to the Cities

2011-03-07T19:11:00.000-08:00

At first glance, Thailand is a place of exotic beaches, thrilling wilderness treks, and smiling, happy people. However, if you step off the beaches and away from the dazzling waterfalls, you’ll find a country desperately struggling with many issues tied to development. As I’ve traveled to several villages around Isaan (the Northeast), I’ve realized that mass urban migration is a major problem facing villagers today. In contrast to the United States, there are still many small farmers in Thailand, though there may be far fewer in the future.

During numerous interview and exchanges, farmers have said that they don’t want their children to take on their profession, as it is a very difficult life. Farming isn’t considered a desirable occupation in Thailand. In fact, the people of Isaan are often thought of as “hicks,” who consume sticky rice and fermented fish and aren’t accustomed to the fast pace of city life. Children grow up nowadays with a desire to leave the villages in search of a more exciting and profitable city life. Part of the appeal of city life may be a result of what the youth see on TV. I have now stayed in four village homes since I have arrived in Thailand; every single one of these homes has contained a television. Not only does the TV exist in many homes, but it is also a central part of family lives. The soap operas that one of my families watched as we gathered over dinner were never set in villages like my family’s, instead they always seemed to be in modern or urban areas. Whenever a darker skinned, villager-looking character appeared on the screen, they were the laughing stock, a joke of a person.

As young children grow up with this negative association tied to farming life and their parents push them to find easier lives, it’s no wonder that urban migration has now become a widespread phenomenon. Many children leave the village to go to a university in the city, where they may meet their spouse, find a job, and start their own lives, leaving their parents behind to toil on the farm. I never met my homestay parents at one of my homestays, as they were working in Bangkok – my grandmother took care of my homestay sisters and me. In cases such as this, the grandparents must continue to work while also taking care of their grandchildren.

Not only does urban migration create a strenuous situation for the elderly, but it also means that village culture is slowly dying out. During my last homestay, I asked my host father, an organic farmer, if he thought urban migration was a problem for his village. He replied, “I think it’s a big problem because a lot of the younger generation has lost, or don’t even know any local wisdom. So we try to work with the young people nowadays in order to have them learn about local wisdom.” My host father works with the AAN (Alternative Agricultural Network), which is an organization that is working to promote organic farming. One of the AAN’s programs works at raising youth awareness of the local ways of growing and cooking food. In the past, Thai farmers would grow vegetables and local varieties of rice both in order to sell and feed their families. However, the trend of large scale, chemical farming was introduced with the onset of the Green Revolution in the mid 1900s. Large-scale farming led the job to become less centered around family, and instead largely oriented towards the international rice market. The AAN sets an inspirational example of people that are working to reverse this trend, so that small organic farming will once again self sustaining, involving everyone in the family.

Patricia Noto
Bates College

Sustainability

2011-03-07T19:06:00.000-08:00

During the trip to Yasothon Province, I continuously encountered the idea of self-sustainability. Before the trip I understood sustainability in theory, but I realize now that I had no idea of what being sustainable actually meant in practice.

In the US, sustainability isn’t an idea that I had encountered often. While I may have discussed the idea in classes, it was never something I talked about in practical application. It was never something that even crossed my mind outside of a classroom setting. When I came to Thailand and my other group members would ask about where I live, they were often surprised and fascinated to discover that I live on a farm. As I talked about my family’s lifestyle with my peers, and then as I studied and participated in Thai villagers’ farming practices, the more I realized that the lifestyle I had always seen as just being normal for my family had deeper meaning than I expected.

My family has lived on a farm in rural Ohio for over 10 years. When we moved to the farm, we planted a garden right away because not only are fresh fruits and vegetables delicious, but also because seeds are much cheaper to buy than fresh produce. If we have extra produce from the garden, we sell it at the local farmers market that my mom helped organize three years ago. We’ve also raised chickens for the eggs for about six years now because we realized that it would be cheaper than buying eggs. Four years ago we started raising a cow or two every years that we have butchered for the beef, again because it saves money at the grocery store. We never used any sort of fertilizer, chemical or otherwise, on our garden before we started raising cows, but now we use the cow manure as a fertilizer. The way of life that my family currently has was the result of a slow process of realization that gardening and raising cows and chickens would save us money in the long run. The idea of being sustainable never really crossed my or my family’s minds until I came to Thailand.

When we CIEE students arrived in Yasothon, the farmers in the village of Ban Dong Dip gave us a tour of their farms. As they showed their fields and explained their farming practices, I noticed many similarities to the practice that my family uses. The villagers plant many different fruits and vegetables, similar to what my family does in our garden. They sell their extra produce at the local green market, like my family sells our extra at the farmers market. They raise cows, among other animals like pigs and buffalo, and use the manure for fertilizer. I saw similar practices in other villages during the trip. While there are other similarities and differences, one important difference I noticed was the mindset of farmers we encountered compared to my family’s mindset. As I said before, one of the main reasons my family farms is because it saves money. While almost all of the villagers I encountered said that farming saves money, they have so many other reasons for using the farming practices they use. They don’t use chemical fertilizers anymore because they encountered health problems when they did use them. They grow herbs to use as traditional medicine. Most importantly, all of their farming practices and reasons behind farming revolved around the idea of being sustainable. By growing fruits and vegetables, they don’t have to buy them from the market. By growing herbal medicine, they don’t have to go to the hospital as often. By not using chemical fertilizers, they don’t have to rely on the company they would have to buy those from. They farm in order to be sustainable.

My time so far in Thailand has made me realize so many things, especially about farming, that I didn’t realize before. Through conversations with my peers, I’ve realized that gardening and farmers markets are more foreign to many people in the US than I thought. I’ve also realized that farming is also seen as exciting and trendy because it is so foreign to people sometimes. From my time with the villagers in Yasothon, I realized that farming has so many other benefits that my family doesn’t always consider. I also started thinking of how my family can use some of the villagers’ techniques, like composting, for my family’s farm. I hope that when I return home, I can help my family think of farming as a way for us to be sustainable, and not just a way for us to save money. With that mindset about farming, I think we will be able to become sustainable in other aspects of our lives too.

Meghann Venus
Case Western Reserve University

My Ideal World

2011-03-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

P’Ubon, an NGI located in Yasothon, posed the question, “What does your ideal world look like?”. I replied, “A world with neighbors. Neighbors that form an interdependent community and promote sustainability.”

The focus of our first unit was sustainable agriculture. We visited two villages in the Northeast of Thailand. This part of Thailand is known for its environmental and human rights issues and its activists. We were able to live with two families, one in each village, that gave insight on the issues directly affecting them. The first village grows sugarcane, and the other village practices and promotes sustainable methods of farming. Through my experiences with the my two homestay families, I was able to understand the necessity of community living.

Community living creates a type of social security. Their food, income, health and survival are dependent on the connections between villagers. The farmers depend on food to feed themselves and the village and for income. The food brings their community together and promotes a sustainable lifestyle. A shared goal, such as producing healthy food and protecting the environment, reminds the community that they do not have to fight over resources. This also aids in preserving their traditional village lifestyle.

A community is rare to find in the United States. We live in communities and neighborhoods, but we do not live as a community with our neighbors. The rise of industrialization has lessened our need to rely on others. Maybe it’s the education system that pushes us to be the best at something that has little to do with real survival. Most villagers barely finished high school, but have more knowledge on how to live than we achieve from our expensive universities. Our detachment stems from the urban push for competition rather than for all to mutually benefit. There once was a time where the local store was named after the owner, the front porch was an invitation to socialize and you could actually ask your neighbor for a cup of sugar. We have removed the need for a community thus hurting our livelihood.

P’Ubon said, “We must start with ourselves in order to make the change we want in the world.” We must bring back the community lifestyle if we want to protect our planet and promote sustainability. This would include supporting local or family business, communicating and relying on neighbors. My homestay family provided me with a clear understanding of how food and community help them live sustainable and enjoyable lives.

The community the first village has created is through their struggle to produce organic sugarcane. They want to produce healthy food, but a large sugarcane factory has created difficulties for these families. Though they struggle, they depend on each other for survival. Village life is preserved because they need one another to increase their livelihood.

In the second village, most of the families my group stayed with are part of AAN, the Alternative Agriculture Network. This network brings farmers from other villages together in the quest for sustainable methods of farming and safe food. My homestay father is the head of agricultural research in the village. Though this is an unpaid position, he believes that his role is necessary in maintaining the social security of the village. When everyone depends on each other, jobs like this become a way of life. Working is seen as enjoyable because it increases the quality of life for your family and neighbors. If that was why we worked in the United States, our happiness, security, and health would drastically improve.

Lindsay Friedman
University of Colorado at Boulder

Personal Change is Like a Gateway Drug

2010-12-07T01:03:00.001-08:00

“Why bother?” is a question that continues to plague my thoughts. However, after our fifth and final unit I think I’ve finally figured it out. Bother because it matters. Bother because you matter. Bother because the future of humankind matters.

To be quite frank, personal changes are only a small drop in a huge bucket, only a grain of sand on an entire coastline. It’s scary to think about, but it’s true. By taking shorter showers, recycling your garbage, or eating less meat, you will not see your personal changes creating social change. But promise me, they will. If we are constantly looking for validation, as in- “what proof is there that I make a difference?”- then we will remain powerless. The statement “It matters to me,” is simple but powerful. To have power, one must take power.

We are consumers, and because we consume, we have power. We can choose to buy a product and we can choose not to buy a product at all. When enough people choose to use their power as a consumer, the marketplace listens. Then corporations have to listen, because if they do not, they will die.

The people who are taking shorter showers, recycling their garbage, and eating less meat are also the people protesting, lobbying, and proposing effective solutions. Personal change is like a gateway drug. You start with the easy stuff, like recycling your garbage, then you are looking for harder drugs to ease your addiction: “Now, how can I make Davidson College go green? San Diego? Or the United States?”

I made my first environmentally related decision when I became a vegetarian. It was a major lifestyle change, and I did not do it because I thought it would change the meat industry or the world. I did it because I felt it mattered, because I felt as if it were the right thing to do. However, often, ironically over meals where I am eating a salad and my friend is eating a fat juicy steak, they pop the question, “Why are you a vegetarian?” I dread the question. I feel as if I can never effectively justify my reasons. I can spit out all the facts and statistics about fossil fuel, water, and soil conservation, but I always get the same response, “You being a vegetarian won’t make a difference.” I always knew this statement was wrong, but I never knew how to respond. Now I do. I agree that real wide-scale changes will require organization and policy change, but those big changes start with individuals making a choice to live differently. Like me, not eating meat.

Na Nong Bong is a beautiful community. It boasts gorgeous mountains, picturesque sunsets, and hospitable people. However, one thing it doesn’t show off is its gold mine. A scar on the environment that’s impossible to miss. The villagers claim the gold mine has horribly effected the Na Nong Bong community, and five other surrounding villages. Water is contaminated. Food can’t grow. Villagers can’t make money. Dark rashes have covered portions of their skin. Cyanide levels in their blood are far higher than normal. And while their livelihood deteriorates, they are kept on the slide lines to watch. Who can bridge the gap between them and their opponents? Who can help them fight for their cause? I can, and so can you.

As we drove away from the Na Nong Bong community, I reached around to the back of my neck, unhooked the clasp of my favorite gold necklace, took it off, and put it away. I often get compliments about my necklace. “I love that necklace. Where did you get it? I want one!” And there they go, off to buy a gold necklace without even knowing the repercussions their purchase has on the environment and other human beings. I strongly believe that by not wearing my gold necklace, I am helping communities affected my mines around the world fight.

Throughout the past four months, the “Why Bother” conversation has been never ending. It would be easy to say, “There’s nothing left to say.” But because I strongly believe in the power of personal change, I believe my voice matters. So here I am, adding my individual voice to all of the others. Your changes matter. Our changes together will one day make a better world. As Margaret Mead said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever does.”

Madeleine Dick-Godfrey
Davidson College

A Similar Struggle Two Decades Later

2010-11-22T02:46:00.000-08:00

In Tamui Village we held our exchange on a deck overlooking the Mekong River. Below us a string of boats lined the riverbank and occasionally a fisherman returned home with a catch. Half way across the river is a cluster of rocks. I was told the best fishing is right by those rapids because that is where all the fish hang out. In the dry season those rocks become a tourist attraction, and backpackers come regularly to camp out in a tent in the middle of the Mekong. Farther, across a stretch of flowing water to the opposite riverbank is a thickly forested patch of Laos. It was a tranquil sight, but the topic of discussion at this exchange was not. A dam has been approved for construction a couple kilometers upstream from Tamui village, and if it is built it will change the lives of the people who live there forever. The Laotian villagers who live across the river are relying on Tamui to resist the dam construction, because under the Lao government, they cannot speak up to oppose it. And those rapids, where the best fishing is and where tourists come to spend the night, is slated for demolition because the Electrical Generating Authority of Thailand has determined it needs to create a deeper channel in that location. The most worrisome effect the dam would have on the lives of these people is that it would destroy their livelihoods. The river is what sustains them.

After our exchange with the Tamui villagers, Paw Somkiat stepped forward from a pack of onlookers and spoke with conviction directly to the people of Tamui. Somkiat is one of the leaders of the Pak Mun dam-affected community, and as such he has been a central figure in the fight against the Pak Mun dam for over two decades. He is familiar with the withering effects a dam has on a community that is so dependant on the river for sustenance because his community experienced these effects thoroughly. He expressed his desire for unity between Tamui and Pak Mun, and he offered to share the lessons he has learned from his many years negotiating, protesting, and fighting against a destructive dam. He said, “Our information is our weapon.” Information is a weapon they will have to use if the villagers of Tamui want to resist the dam from being built, because there are large structural interests that support its construction. Thailand has approved of the project and that Laos government has already checked it off as well. One of the only barriers to construction right now is that the Environmental Impact Assessment has not been completed yet.

Tamui, in a way, is like a snapshot of Pak Mun about twenty-three years ago, before the dam was built. The question that remains, however, is whether the two share a similar fate. The Pak Mun dam has stood across the Mun River for years and years as the pilot project of the Kong-Chi-Mun water development project. It still funnels the Mun River through its menacing turbines, producing electricity (at a miniscule fraction of its projected output) to feed the needs of growing industry and sprawling Bangkok. The dam slated for construction a couple kilometers upstream from Tamui has not been build yet, and the people of Tamui still have a chance to protect their livelihoods, their community, and the region’s natural ecology.

Alex Kovac
Santa Clara University

What Does It Mean To Learn?

2010-11-19T23:22:00.000-08:00

This past unit we explored the theme of water and dam related issues. Our first visit was to a community affected by the Rasi Salai dam in Si Saket province. The community has been fighting for over two decades to seek reparations and restoration of their livelihoods after the Rasi Salai dam flooded thousands of rai of land and inundated a large part of the wetlands. Many of the farmers have yet to receive compensation for lost land and those that have find that it was not enough to make up for everything they lost. After, years of failed strategies the community has redirected its efforts towards peaceful engagement with the government and education. It is this second component that I will address further.

The spring 2010 CIEE student group responded to a request from villagers affected by the Rasi Salai dam to help create a project plan for a learning center. In the beginning, there were a few ideas of what it may look like and the purpose it could serve. Through a process of collaboration and planning the community and students developed a concrete project proposal. Since then the community has moved forward with the construction of the agricultural learning component. This includes a community gathering space, two chicken houses, a mushroom house and the planting of trees and crops.

The next step is the most important and possibly the most difficult. The community wants to preserve as much knowledge about their livelihoods, flora and fauna, the wetlands and the history of their struggle as they can. They may have structures but it is vital that knowledge be collected and displayed effectively if it is to be passed on to a broader audience. This is the task that is confronting the villagers and our student group. I hope that we can work together to establish a system that will ensure Rasi Salai’s local wisdom will be passed on to future generations.

This same strategy is used in our own student group in trying to connect our learning to that of past and future semesters. Through a series of detailed pass-ons and the use of tools like this blog we are able to share our experiences, struggles and knowledge with those to come. This is the true meaning of learning. Looking beyond the now and oneself to see your learning as small step along a very long road. A road that has built by millions before you and will continue to stretch far into the future.

Brett Srader
Macalestar College

Some Program Philosophy

2010-11-10T22:28:00.000-08:00

"Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn”.
-Benjamin Franklin

The CIEE programs philosophy of education captures the essence of intrapersonal development, collaboration, self-empowerment and direct engagement in the learning process. CIEE offers a personalized, community based, holistic alternative to mainstream education. My ambition to pursue a study abroad program involving an alternative education model stemmed from my passion for adventure and interest in experiential learning. I aspired to participate in a program that would challenge me personally, intellectually, and academically. Nearly 2 months ago, I arrived in Bangkok wide-eyed and apprehensive. Thus far, my experiences throughout the semester have tested my limits, broadened my horizons, and exceeded my expectations.

The program is structured to offer students the opportunity to organize and facilitate informal/formal academic spaces. The semester is divided into 5 units. Each unit focuses on protection of human rights in communities throughout Northeastern Thailand. Themes include civil, political, economic, and social issues. Our first unit was based on traditional agricultural production and organic farming. Rather than being confined to the classroom, our student group explored the issue hands on by visiting Yasthon, a self-sufficient community in the midst of transitioning to chemical free agricultural production. We spent 5 days in Yasothon exchanging with villagers and grassroots organizations (Alternative Agricultural Network), helping our host families sell at the ‘Green Market’, and even breaking a sweat in the rice fields. Our second unit focused urban development schemes, landfills, and slum communities. Again, the program did not rely on textbooks and traditional academia to provide us with insights and solutions. We set out to work with scavengers in the landfill belonging to the Khon Kaen municipality. Believe it or not, my 9 ‘farang’ (foreigner) friends and I accompanied our host families to ‘Trash Mountain’ in hopes of collecting an ample supply of recyclables to earn a days wage. Living in the Kham Bon village, which neighbors the landfill, was enlightening. I was forced to face the issues of access to housing, political rights, civil services, environmental protection, and social security full on. We also had the opportunity to visit Nong Waen, a slum/squatter community in the course of being evicted and displaced by a railroad company. Exchanging with slum dwellers offered a deeper understanding of the complexities of accessing property rights. Home stays and exchanges with villagers are a core component of the CIEE alternative education model. Active service learning within raw cultural immersion experiences raises consciousness and fosters a discovery of the self.

Katherine Cooney
University of Minnesota

Sex Made Me a Feminist and Human Rights Advocate

2010-11-03T02:41:00.000-07:00

Although the first human rights conference in Southeast Asia was only 2 days long, it provided information that changed my entire perspective on the issue.

Prior to the conference I wasn’t really interest in human rights and I wouldn’t have considered myself a feminist. While I think everyone should have freedom and access to certain things simply because they are born, I definitely wasn’t passionate about the idea. Likewise, while I believe women should be considered equal to men and I firmly believe in women’s rights, I would have never labeled myself a feminist. Then I went to the human rights conference where I attended a session on women’s sexuality and sexual rights and immediately my thoughts on both ideas changed.

The main focus of the first speaker in the session was the notion that women enjoying sex is often looked down upon, especially in the Philippines, where the speaker did her fieldwork. The speaker advocated that women are “sexual beings” and it is their right to both openly explore their sexuality and enjoy sex. Despite the fact that I am female, I had never considered the ability to explore my sexuality and find pleasure in sex a human right. Coming from America where we are desensitized to sex because it is everywhere, I’ve always taken sex for granted. Yet, honest and open conversations about sex are still taboo. Moreover, I have witnessed the societal norms that degrade women for comfortably expressing themselves sexually. This is a blatant contradiction and to be completely honest, I had never really stopped to think about that prior to this session. As the speaker continued with her presentation I found myself realizing just how much of a victim I was to social constructs about sex. Why had I never thought about these things? Why isn’t a woman’s sexuality considered a human right? Or maybe the real question was, why had I never thought of these issues in terms of human rights?

This realization was only further confirmed by the second speaker who spoke about utilizing spiritual activism in the form of Buddhism, along with feminism to empower people, but especially women. She advocated using the framework of spiritual activism because it focuses on understanding the self both as an individual and as part of a larger world. For the feminism part, Bell Hooks’ definition of ‘a movement to end sexism, sexual exploitation and oppression” was used. Together, feminism and spiritual activism are used to empower women. In Thailand, as well as other Buddhist countries, many people, but especially women, use karma as a reason for their suffering. For example, because someone was a bad person in a previous life that is why their husband beats them in this life, as well as various other things. This mindset forces people to think that they can’t change their situation and they are stuck suffering. This is similar to what the first speaker mentioned, where women should be sexually liberated, but they allow social constructs to restrict them.

The connection of the two changed my ideas about feminism. As a young female who identifies as a sexual being, feminism wasn’t something I had ever associated myself with. However, if being a feminist means I just want the right to be a sexual being without being oppressed or exploited because of my sex, than I am and have always been a feminist. Moreover, if this has to be defined as a right, that I support it and definitely consider it a human right.

At the conference I encountered numerous examples of human rights violations and ways in which human rights are researched, taught, and promoted. Maybe it’s sad that my feelings for human rights were indifferent before this conference since I believed that they were bigger than anything I could address. By the end of the conference I had an entirely new perspective on it. Human rights and human rights violations are just something that happens on the state level and to groups of people. They happen every day by individuals as well. Moreover, living a fairly decent life in the US doesn’t make me immune to them. It would be a lie to say that I am passionate about human rights because I’m not. I’m now an active advocate and for the rest of my life I will make sure to fight against human rights violations at the individual level whenever I can.

Jessica Bohanon
University of Rochester

The Need for Buddhism in Social Change

2010-11-03T02:39:00.000-07:00

Many times religion is seen as a tradition disconnected from progressive social change and human rights. Sometimes, religion even creates a force that pushes against the momentum of social justice. Yet after completing our third unit on human rights, I saw a new approach to the Buddhist religion that creates a framework for social change that blurs the lines of religious practice and social action.

For three days of our Collaborative Community Consultation unit, we traveled to Bangkok to attend the First ASEAN Human Rights Conference. The night before the conference we had the opportunity to exchange with Buddhist activist, scholar, and father of the “Network of Socially Engaged Buddhists” Sulak Sivaraksa. Sivaraksa has been charged for Lese Majeste (libel against the Thai King) multiple times, and is seen as one of the leading figures for social justice and human rights in Thailand.

Sivaraksa explained to us how a new movement of Socially Engaged Buddhists has interpreted the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism as a calling for social and environmental action. He detailed how Buddhism (and all honest spiritual practice from any religion) is an extremely powerful tool for social change. The reason comes from a belief that has been preached by the Dahli Lama for generations. That is, world peace is only possible if we cultivate peace within ourselves. Sulak believes that spirituality is critical to positive action, because one cannot act completely truthfully and positively without personal awakening. Only after we throw out our dishonest desires, our egos, and our dualistic thinking can we begin to approach problems of social justice.

While this view may seem questionable to the Western mind, the ultimate message is powerful nonetheless. If a person begins to confront these issues within oneself, they can better understand the deep seeded roots of problems. So often individuals place themselves outside of the “objective reality” that they see in the world. However, it is individuals that make up this reality, and each individual typically contributes to the problem. With this in mind it is imperative that individuals begin to live with a virtue ethic—also preached by authors like Thoreau—to confront societal issues on a more personal level.

A good example of this idea comes from the abuse of Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights in Thailand. We visited a scavenger community that ekes out a living by scavenging through the trash of wealthier urbanites. We also visited communities living in slums, and Isaan villages affected by large destructive dams. These people consistently have their Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights abused by the government, the economic system, and the actions of others. Every time I over-consume and create abundant waste so I can live a gluttonous lifestyle, I trod on the rights of these people. Every time I eat food without thinking of the consequences, or demand more electricity because of my excessive energy use, I indirectly abuse the rights of others. With a Buddhist perspective I can begin to understand this, to address the issue from a deeper, more personal level. I can work to live in a more simple, non-consumerist way. Western society tends to attack problems from a higher level, when many of the problems stem from individual greed, desire, and ego.

Ginger Norwood, a presenter at the Human Rights Conference, continued this idea. She has created an organization in Thailand that uses a Feminist perspective, combined with Buddhist spiritual practice to question societal oppression. She calls it “spiritual activism.” Her organization attempts to create a space where individuals can introspectively focus on their own internalized oppression. The spirituality of activism also cultivates a more sustainable activism to counter burnout and hopelessness often seen in NGO and activist movements.

Sivaraksa and Norwood also explained the Buddhist belief of “skilled mindfulness.” That is, Buddhists don’t necessarily see actions as right or wrong. Instead, each individual action needs to be examined and contemplated. It isn’t that government is bad, it that the people in government act with ego and selfishness. It’s not that capitalism is bad, but corporate business leaders aren’t leading lives free from greed and desire (or their greed is not being channeled to the public good). Buddhism is successful in creating social change because it attempts to create a holistic personal health, because only then can a healthy society be created.

Bryant Mason
University of Colorado at Boulder

A Slum that Defies Expectations

2010-10-24T01:39:00.000-07:00

We have been in Thailand for two months and right about now is when homesickness is starting to kick in. I find myself longing for my bed, garden and family. I think about the way my house smells when my mom bakes pumpkin muffins and how magical my backyard looks when the leaves change colors. I love the way the wood floor feels on my feet and how comfortable our front porch is. To me, this is home.

Our second unit was focused on Urban Trends. We spent our time exploring landfills, slums, and markets. I was especially excited to hear more about the organization of slum communities during the unit.

Before we departed for a visit to the slum I thought I should mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see. I envisioned us driving to a new part of the city where I had never been. We have lived in Khon Kaen for two months and I had not yet seen a slum. I just assumed that I was on the wrong side of town.

However, we were only in the van for about ten minutes before we arrived at our destination of the Non Wang slum community. To my surprise, I found myself standing in the shadow of the biggest commercial mall in Khon Kaen. I must have passed this area fifty times and never thought twice about these houses.

Many of members of Nong Wang are descendents of people who were once farmers but migrated to the city in search of economic prosperity. However, when they arrived, they took low paying jobs as construction workers for SRT, Thailand’s biggest Train Company. As their workers, SRT encouraged them to live near the tracks in order to be close to work and avoid transportation issues. As a result, many settled along the side of the tracks but received no land rights.

Although the construction job has been completed for decades, their houses still remain on the side of the tracks. Today, the government is planning to move this community and build a train station where their houses are currently located. The community is scheduled to be moved in November of this year about seven kilometers away.

While we were walking through the slum I expected to see despair and I found the opposite. We arrived around the time work was ending and everybody was outside relaxing. The houses were fairly well kept and the community was beautiful. Kids were riding bikes and running around. We were greeted with huge warm smiles by anyone we walked passed. It was clear they knew the land, their neighbors, and how to live together. This is their home and even though it was a slum there was a lot of joy in their community.

When I first learned about the relocating of the Nong Wang community, I immediately thought “They should definitely take the deal. Get out of here and start new.” But I was missing the point. Some of these families have been living in the same house for sixty years. This place is not just a line of houses. A home is much more than four walls. A home has memories, community, and gives people a sense of belongingness. To them, this is their home and their community. No amount of compensation can replace a home, or a tight community, even if they only move seven kilometers away.

Abby Bok
Hope College

2010-10-02T23:47:00.000-07:00

Think about what you ate for dinner last night… How much of it do you know where it came from? No, I don’t mean where it was purchased. I mean the source, where was it grown? Chances are, like me, you don’t know much about the origins of your meal besides the name of the supermarket or restaurant.

My classmates and I just completed our first unit with a theme of agriculture. We spent five days in the province of Yasothon. Each of us paired up with another classmate and a farming family that is active in providing edibles for the Greenmarket; a chemical free source of food for people living in the city. It was during this unit I got the experience of knowing where everything on the dinner table (well mat here) came from; I mean the real source, not just the market.

Everything, except the salt, sugar and soy sauce that went into the som tam (papaya salad) was pointed out by my host mom on the tour she gave me of her farm earlier that afternoon. In fact she picked the peppers and gourds we ate for dinner along the way.

When we sat down to eat the freshly prepared som tam, gourd and egg with brown sticky rice I had such a sense of pride. That was probably one of the most low impact meals I have ever had the pleasure to eat. It was all organic and had come from within a 100 yard radius of where I was sitting, in fact the source of the eggs tried to sneak into the house during the meal.

I had a realization that the changes in my eating habits in the last two years, changes that turned my world upside down, were not enough. I was a meathead one day and a strict vegetarian the next day, but that apple that I eat in the dead of winter, how far did it travel? How many chemical inputs did it take? How many workers’ rights were violated? I realized it’s not necessarily about if the food you eat comes from an animal or not, it is if that food is local, organic, in season, and fair trade.

I am feeling overwhelmed with the question of “What can we eat?” It seems so much easier to turn off my brain before I eat and consume without regard to the environment, people and animals, because eating ethically seems like a discouraging and impossible task that makes no difference in the grand scheme of things. I know for myself and many of my classmates, Michael Pollan’s article Why Bother? (Published in The New York Times Magazine on April 20, 2008), is providing some insight to the daunting task eating has become. In this article Pollan describes a disconnect between what we think and what we do. He stated, “Sometimes you have to act as if acting will make a difference,” this statement puts the world in perspective for me. I do not have to change the world as an individual; I need to work the best I can to align my beliefs and actions in order to leave something the next generation can build upon. It may be a gamble, but as Pollan argues, “going personally green is a bet, nothing more or less, though it’s one we probably all should make, even if the odds of it paying off aren’t great.”

Sam Ryals
Pacific University

Destigmatizing Farming

2010-10-02T23:42:00.000-07:00

As the sun set on my host family’s rice paddy in Yasothon province, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope of different colors, I couldn’t help but utter a sigh of contentment and say, “นี่คือชีวิตที่ดี,” or, “This is the good life.”

For the entire day, I helped my host family manage their animals and crops through cutting down tall, thick grasses for the cows and pigs to feast on, planting tamarind plants and flowering trees, and sorting the white or unprocessed rice kernels from the local variety of rice that had a naturally rich, deep mahogany color. Afterwards, however, I was able to lay back and relax on a bamboo bench under the shade of an awning made out of straw. I was accompanied by the happy squeals of my young host cousins playing near the cow pen, the low-pitched, steady murmur of my host father, uncle, and grandfather as they talked about the day’s business and the laughter of my host mother, aunt, and grandmother while they made the day’s dinner.

Being a part of a family like this made me feel happy, safe – like I had a viable support system. So if this family structure evoked such a feeling from me, why does the farming occupation have so many stigmas attached to it? Why is everyone trying to escape the farming lifestyle?

In Thailand, the rural youth are increasingly migrating to Bangkok and larger urban centers for education and employment. For example, my host parents in Yasothon had one daughter who moved to Bangkok and married a man there with no intentions of coming back to the village. Similarly, my host parents in Roi Et province, where the farming lifestyle is similar, had two daughters who both moved to Bangkok to find jobs have not come back to help around the farm.

Perhaps this disrespect and negative mentality against small-scale farmers has allowed larger farming conglomerates to take advantage of both local and global markets and forced us everyday people to turn a blind eye to the issue. For instance, contract farming is a system in which a company hires individual farmers to grow a certain crop in a certain way and then buys the farmer’s product when it is ready. Although this provides the farmer with a guaranteed market, the company is not responsible for the welfare of the farmers that they hold contracts with. Additionally, some companies even require farmers to pay for certain types of seeds or expensive and nutrient-draining fertilizer from the company itself, thus opening up the possibility of the farmers accumulating a debt with the company.

Plus, contract farming creates other problems including the decision of whether or not to grow only cash crops like sugarcane and cassava to sell to companies or to grow in a more sustainable way without a contract for the sake of their community and livelihoods. If a farmer were to pick the former, then he/she would obviously accrue more money; however, he/she would be required to buy food from somewhere else instead of growing more food for his or herself. On the other hand, if the farmer were to choose the latter, there would be no guaranteed market for their goods, and he/she would have less money to send their children to school or afford electronics, for example. So essentially, I feel that contract farming has the potential to strip small-scale farmers like those in Yasothon and Roi Et from their rights and livelihoods through a system of exploitation stemming from a wide-sweeping disrespect for individual farmers.

In the US, too, I certainly feel that there is an air of, “I will never be like my parents,” if those parents are farmers. But from my experience in Yasothon, I no longer feel that sense of condescension because I now know those small-scale farmers. I’ve had a small taste of how they live their lives and how strong their bonds are. And ultimately, members of farming families are human, just like us. In a perfect world, what I envision is a total overhaul of societal thought in some way, and perhaps then, farming will be looked upon as an honorable, desirable occupation again.

Emily Srisarajivakul
Northwestern University

Unpacking the Invisible Consumer (American) Knapsack

2010-04-17T04:08:00.000-07:00

I thought I understood privilege. Of course, I write this statement with the understanding that power, and thus privilege, is strongest when it is invisible. That the moment you think you know privilege, or even think you have some tiny understanding of it, is the moment it will be bite you in the ass. For the privileges you benefit from the most are also the ones most hidden from you- in that case, consider me bitten.

My major at school is “Critical Theory and Social Justice” which, I know, is a pretty illusive title. I cringe every time someone asks me what major I am and hate myself for not being able to come up with a good answer to this question after two years. But, if I could give an eloquent answer, I would say that my major attempts to understand systems of privilege, power, and oppression and how they manifest themselves in the form of racism, sexism, colonialism, etc. These are all concepts I thought I came to Thailand with a fairly good grasp on.

I came here with a preconceived notion of how power would operate in this situation. I had contemplated the paradigm of Westerners coming to a “developing” nation- tourism as the newest form of colonialism. I feared for how my group of American students would be perceived- as Westerners coming and to impart our “superior knowledge” on “less developed” people. This was the power dynamic I had set up in my head, and thus I shied away from comments that I thought romanticized or objectified the villagers’ way of life we were witnessing. But, I myself had one of these moments recently- when I found myself wishing to stop development in its tracks.

Walking into the main mall here in Khon Kaen, Thailand, I was greeted by an old friend, new to the area: Starbucks. It was the one mark of development I hadn’t seen here: first come the McDonalds, then the Dairy queens, and finally the Starbucks. Seeing this companies appearance in the Northeast of Thailand (one of the most undeveloped regions of the country), I had a moment of “do as I say, not as I do.” I hated this mark of development, seeing it as another symbol of all the worst American trends making their way to developing nations, while I simultaneously remembered every Starbucks beverage I had ever enjoyed. After visiting Tamui village, a beautiful village on the Mekong that still relied on fishing as their main source of income, a few days before, the sight of a Starbucks seemed gross, abrasive. I saw the Mekong river battling this fast food (coffee) chain, and I wanted the Mekong to win, I desperately wanted the traditional way of life to prevail. But, then I was reminded of a story that a friend here in Thailand relayed from his time studying abroad in Argentina. He said he had a similar moment of horror when he saw a McDonalds there until a friend questioned him, saying, “If this country wants McDonalds, who are we to say to they can’t have it?”

Who are we to say? How can anyone who holds a Big Mac in their right hand and a Venti Latte in their left tell anyone else to halt development in the name of the environment or preserving tradition? And even if I don’t personally partake in these activities, I still live in a country that ultimately reaps certain benefits from that type of development. America has developed this way, we have lost our traditions, we have ruined land, but the world has not blown up, the apocalypse has not come.

This revelation regarding our path of development really hit me when villagers affected by the construction of dams, or chemical farming asked our group about similar problems in the US, and I didn’t have much to offer. I have studied environmental justice in school, and economic problems, but this has always been in relation to cities in urban areas- not rural areas with dams or farms. I thought I knew about sources of injustice in the US, but injustice regarding farming or dams mostly happened decades ago, and thus I had no stories to relate to these villagers. Our country has already faced these problems, and gotten over them. Traditional ways of life have been destroyed, people have migrated from the country to the city, and now we have a whole new load of urban development problems. Much pain and suffering has accompanied this development, but civilization has gone on.

I thought that this was the most sensitive mind frame I could have regarding development: let people develop how they would like to develop- recognizing the virtue in communities that are less developed without forcing preservation of culture. I thought this, until I started learning facts such as- “four hectares of land are needed to maintain the consumption of the average person living in a high-income country, yet in 1990, the world had only 1.7 hectares per capita” (When Corporations Rules the World). Or “a child born in the US will consume, waste, and pollute 50 times more in their lifetime than a child living in a developing nation” (UNICEF). Thus, not everyone can expand to the American level of development; the world will blow up.

I came here thinking in terms of the power dynamics I was familiar with- imperialism, colonialism, etc. What I didn’t know was that the power dynamic was already set up for me, it was there regardless of any action I took to mitigate those forms of oppression. The oppression I am apart of doesn’t come from imparting values onto another’s culture, it comes from living in a way that makes it that much harder for other’s to live.

In 1988, Peggy McIntosh wrote the article “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack”- a must-read article in almost any class on privilege or oppression. This article is considered ground breaking, making many white people recognize privileges that had never before entered their consciousness- such as the ability to walk around a store without being questioned for stealing, or the ability to turn on the TV and see someone of your race portrayed in a positive light. In our globalized world, it is privileges such as the “ability to consume water or electricity without thinking twice,” or the “ability to eat your favorite meal without knowing where it came from,” that need to be recognized. It is now the invisible knapsack of consumer privilege (i.e. American privilege) that needs to be unpacked.

Samantha Sencer-Mura
Occidental College

Shifting Societal Values: How Progress and Development Could Simply Be Illusions

2010-04-17T04:06:00.000-07:00

Is there such a thing as “good development” or “progress?” As the semester has moved forward, this question has continued to plague my thoughts. I have continually tried to confront the issues we’ve been studying without bias. I have tried to understand the values and limitations of all actors, especially ones that I do not initially agree with. However, this unbiased approach has left me confused about where I stand and whom I support. I find myself seeing murkier lines between what is considered “good development” and what is considered “harmful development.”

For example, the mines and dams that various Thai villagers are protesting against destroy local culture and livelihoods. Because these local cultures are falling victim to big development, we assume that means that those development projects are “bad.” However, we forget that these same dams and mines also serve greater national and international populations by supplying valuable energy and mineral sources (which are key factors in maintaining modern livelihoods). Thus, to criticize these development projects means an attack on the way human society has chosen to progress for the last century since the Industrial Revolution. This brings to light the strange paradigm of societal values and the consequent actions we take based on these values.

The world is developing in the manner it is developing because we as a human race had previously determined that this is the “right” way. However, now we are beginning to introduce a new discourse that places the preservation of local culture over the progression of modern luxuries. But why? Why are we now taking this stance? Were we previously ignorant as to what “good development” is? Where we “wrong” before? Are new grass-roots development plans necessarily “better?” Is it really that “bad” that 99.9% of people in Thailand have readily available electricity, even though some people had to be relocated to make power lines? Is it really that “bad” that we have the necessary minerals to create computers that allow global levels of information and communication to be readily available, even though they came from mines that destroyed some local environments?

The problem inevitably arises due to the basic question of how we define “good” from “bad” (because progress and development should ideally be the pursuit of good for all). Do these terms carry any inherent meaning beyond what we as a society decide to ascribe to them? “Good” and “bad” are determined by the values a society has at a given moment in time. However, it is true that throughout history these values can change across groups of people and across time itself. An example of these changing definitions is: less than a hundred and fifty years ago, the majority of the world (which consisted of equally intelligent, rational human beings) decided that it was “good” to enslave millions of people based on their race. In fact in their opinion, enslaving these people was a necessary part in developing the world for the future. The triangle trade was seen as progress.

Although it is now our current opinion that this was an atrocious embarrassment to human history, can we truly pass this judgment? The problem with doing so lies in the inherent failure for us as a human race to firmly decide on a clear cut meaning for “good” and “bad.” Our own judgments on slavery are based on our current societal values, which could also be seen as wrong and vile by some distant group of human beings in the future. In Aldous Huxley’s timeless novel, A Brave New World, Huxley presents a new society in which the societal values of today, i.e. love, commitment, individualism, equality and family are seen as base and vile. In fact, Huxley presents a society in which slavery and inequality are re-championed: some people are bred to be subservient to others for the sake of efficiency and the benefit of society.

Along these lines, who is to say that our newly placed value on grass-roots development over big development will not later be judged as “misguided” and “wrong?” So my challenge to the human race is, is there anything inherently good? Is there anything that is timelessly bad? Or are these merely self-imposed terminologies that we attempt to use to better understand the insane (and dare I suggest meaningless) world we live in?

Furthermore, I have come to the serious conclusion that every action has both negative and positive effects. There will always be someone who is sacrificing their potential well being for the development of others, because we all have different values. So how can we decide on what development project to enact? Is there such a thing as true development or progress? Or are we just constantly improving on some things at the cost of others, thereby creating a disguised inertia, an inertia in which our world is constantly changing, but nothing is really improving? Progress and development become nothing more than illusions that we perceive to be occurring when in reality there is no net change. There are only currents and shifts from one value set to a different value set, and it is this that we perceive as “change.”

There will always be problems in the world. But where do we go from here? How do we act if we can never really determine a right from wrong, and consequently can never truly progress? I suppose all we can really do is continue to act along the social and moral values given to us by our upbringing; to continue doing what we think is best, moral, right and good; and to continue hoping that these actions are helping the world in some way.

Michelle Nguyen
Brown University

Damming the Mekong: What’s the Cost of Development?

2010-04-17T04:04:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting in a traditional Thai Long Tail Boat as it unsteadily pulls away from the rock-lined shore of the Mekong River in Thailand’s Udon Rachathani Province. Behind me, the village of Tamui is nestled in the cliffs, which lie opposite of the sandy banks, about five minutes away from the shore. To my anterior, my homestay father, a Tamui native, is perched in a squatting position at the narrow head of the boat. We’re going fishing. As he navigates us through the clear, still waters of the early morning, I watch the sun rise and illuminate the natural scenery around us. The experience is serene and beautiful, but it makes me wonder: how can any corporation be bold enough to enter this village and intrude on the villagers’ connections to the river by constructing a dam here?

Within the past few years, the Italian-Thai Development Public Company, Ltd. has been encroaching on this area with the intention of constructing a dam about two-and-a-half kilometers away from Tamui Village. If built, all of Tamui Village and its surrounding lands would be submerged under water. The fish populations, of which many of the villagers make their livelihoods off of, would diminish due to the closing of the dam’s gates. The farmlands, on which they grow beans, cotton, corn, and taro, would be destroyed by floods. Most importantly, the local wisdom, which has been cultivated for generations, would dissipate as the villagers are relocated to inland and urban neighborhoods.

So, who then would benefit from this proposed dam? According to Jacques Leslie’s “Running Dry: What Happens When the World No Longer Has Enough Freshwater?” the author argues that the so-called winners in this situation would be anyone but marginalized peoples. The minorities, he argues, “[are] often uneducated and powerless…[they are] hard to count or even notice…One estimate puts the worldwide total of people displaced by dams at 30 to 60 million.” Such a figure suggests that the beneficiaries are mainly local and regional governmental officials, transnational corporations, and intergovernmental agencies. In the scheme of state development, these actors are more than willing to sacrifice one village’s way of life for the modernization of the entire country.

As I watch my homestay father use a long whip and a series of nets to catch fish, I realize that Tamui Village and its imminent dam issue is a microcosm that illustrates what developing countries encounter when they want to expand and strengthen their infrastructure. As Leslie writes, developing countries face “environmental degradation…mass migration, peasant revolt, and urban insurrection” when they attempt to construct a dam, a highway, a railroad, or any other major infrastructure projects. In addition, these projects further solidify regional political and economic relationships. For example, the Italian-Thai Development Public Company, Ltd.’s proposed dam would be on the Mekong River- this river flows through six different countries: Burma, Cambodia, China, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. Consequently, the closing and opening of the dam’s gates would affect other dams, economics, and politics in the other countries.

When we returned to shore after a long morning of fishing, I took a moment to stand on the rocks and stare at the Mekong River in all its glory. Although I had strong feelings against the proposed dam and against the capitalism, globalization, and corporatism that it stood for, I was not a Tamui Villager. Thus, I did not have the right to judge or assess what type of development this village needed or did not need. Even my homestay father said that the dam issue was a sensitive topic that polarized the village. Approximately 50% of Tamui residents were for the dam and 50% were against it.

In reading this piece, does it remind you all- the students of CGE Mexico- of any homestay communities that you’ve encountered? If so, how do you reconcile the desire to preserve local communities/cultures and the governments’ push for major infrastructure development?

Ann Kam
Claremont McKenna College

Invisible Irony

2010-04-17T04:02:00.000-07:00

We left the building with a sense of paradox and confusion after an exchange with the Royal Irrigation Department (RID) in the Srisaket Province in southeastern Thailand. The second you exit the office where the engineer of a few extremely detrimental dams works, a fluorescent green lawn flashes in front of your eyes during the current dry season. Next you see flooded wetlands and then the massive Rasi Salai dam that was built for irrigation.

The engineer reaffirmed our knowledge that Isaan (large region of northeast Thailand) is an agricultural area overcome with drought and poverty, with problems concerning water management and food production. Even though it is true that Isaan has difficulties with water scarcity and management, we also learned that the government and private companies have exaggerated the drought in northeastern Thailand. There are many proposed dams along major rivers in Thailand to help irrigate the country and also create electricity through hydropower in order to rely less on Laos for power importation.

The enormous concrete structures that interrupt the flow of natural water systems cost millions and millions of dollars and leave the thousands of villagers who live upstream and downstream from them with major tribulations and life-altering transformations. The ecosystems in the rivers are always jeopardized, upstream villages and lives are flooded and downstream residents are left with scarce and stagnant water. Who decides what actually is for “the betterment of the community”? Say that a dam actually follows through with its promise of providing electricity throughout a large area, is that worth the thousands of displaced residents along the river? Maybe it is, maybe its not, but no matter what it seems that Thailand and many other emerging countries are following in the footsteps of development by constructing dams.

One truth is that our world is in a water crisis, and the construction of dams is doing nothing but provoking the predicament even more. Water is extremely difficult to transport to countries that do not have safe water to drink yet the ones who do have the luxury tend to take advantage of it. In the United States, you would never know we were in a water crisis. Our lawns stay healthy all summer long with sprinkler systems and we have plenty of golf courses that have never seen a brown spot in their life. Americans consume half a billion bottles of water every week yet it is generally safe to drink right out of the faucet in our kitchens for free.1

Here in Thailand, the greatest irony for us students emerged once we arrived home after unit four where we stayed with dam-affected communities for a week. We were well informed about the water crisis, electricity issues and irrigation concerns. However, the day after we returned was the start of our “spring break” and also one of Thailand’s famous national holidays: Songkran. This festival consists of everyone off of work, baby powder slapped on your face everywhere you walk, a lot of drinking and…water throwing. You absolutely cannot walk down the street without getting soaked by your neighbors and friends but mostly complete strangers. The second you start to dry in the sweltering heat, a truck drives by and drowns you in ice water where you then find yourself gasping for air followed by more people pasting baby powder on your cheeks. The festival is intense for around three days but playful water throwing lasts for up to a week.

But then there is reality – Isaan is in drought for the majority of every year. It is over 100 degrees Fahrenheit every day; many people cannot afford drinking water, nonetheless water to nourish their crops. While being slapped in the face with water all week, I was also slapped with these harsh realities that I have been learning about all semester. It is hard to think about confronting the water crisis, while also being confronted by such contradicting ideas on water allocation.

Are you confronted with the water crisis in Mexico, and if so, in what way?

1 (http://storyofstuff.org/bottledwater/)

Maggie McLagan
University of Colorado at Boulder

The Art of Clay Pots

2010-04-17T03:57:00.000-07:00

Our student group recently returned from our fourth unit, where we looked at dams and their effects on both the environment and surrounding population. We visited a total of three communities, first, half of us stayed with families in a village in Rasi Sali, while the other half of our group slept in a village in Huana. I was one of 15 students who stayed with families in Goh village, a small village in Huana. For three nights another student, Steph, and I lived with an older couple, Meh Taeng and Pa Taung, and their two grandchildren.

Goh Village is one of many villages in Thailand that is rich in local culture. Ancestors of most of the villagers traveled to Huana from Khorat hundreds of years ago, and with them they brought the intricate skill of making clay pots, which are mainly used for steaming rice and hot pots. To this day, after being passed down from generation to generation, many of the villagers still create and sell clay pots as their main source of income. “This village and my ancestors have been making pots for hundreds of years now,” my Meh told me.

Another reason why making clay pots is so engrained in the villager’s culture is because on a daily basis they all work together and help each other as a community, from making the clay, to selling the final product. Before staying in Huana I would see the same exact clay pots on sale at markets or downtown for thirty baht (about 1 dollar), but I never thought about the amount of work that people put into creating these pots.

In Goh Village, villagers go through many steps to create a finish product they can sell. One day, my Pa and Meh walked me through every intricate detail. First, “I get our clay from a neighbor’s far away wetland,” said my Pa. The process of mixing the clay is called, kruang, when the clay is completely mixed they fill large covered containers with the clay to use when needed.

After collecting the clay, woman of the village spend their days forming and shaping the clay. “Only women do the pottery, while men make the clay,” said Meh Dim, who lives across the street from my family. While working with the pottery the women use two main instruments, a mai lai, a beating stick and a hindu, a tool that resembles a mushroom. The mai lai is used to create a smooth surface and the right thickness, while a hindu is used to round out any edges or straight areas on the pot. On an average day each woman makes about 30 pots, which are then left out in the sun to dry.

After drying the pots, they are put into a group, covered with hay and lit on fire, which acts as a homemade kiln. Permission to use their wetlands to retrieve the clay is not the only aspect of this process where my Pa and Meh’s neighbors lend them a helping hand. “We use to burn the pots on our land, but now we rely on our neighbor to use their land because they have a bigger area to burn all the pots,” said my Pa. They are kept in the fire for around an hour, where the pots turn a beautiful vibrant orange color. After all the pots turn this bright color they are taken out of the fire and put into a pile where they are put into the back of a neighbor’s pickup truck to be taken and sold at a market in downtown Rasi Sali.

Unfortunately after learning all about the process the community members go through to create these detailed pots, I found out that the nearby dam, which was built a decade ago but has not been activated yet, threatens all aspects of Goh Village’s rich local culture. The villagers have not experienced any effects of the dam because the gates of the dam have never been closed, but the government does plan to close the gates in the future which will have a major impact on each and every villager’s way of life.

April Morris
University of Colorado at Boulder

Bigger Pictures

2010-04-17T03:51:00.000-07:00

In a little more than a month our group will be done with the program and we will all disperse across the world. Some of us are heading to different countries, some staying in Thailand, and some heading back to America. All of us are frantically looking back at what we have done and where connections lie between all of the communities. What is the bigger picture? In reality, there are so many different connections and bigger pictures that at times it is hard not to get frustrated with where help can be provided. On a small scale we are simply students staying with amazing families who have all fought the bigger picture in different ways. When we are on home stays we are drowned in hospitality as we eat to the point it hurts. During these short whirlwind days we are learning from a family while simultaneously having exchanges about how globalization and development has directly affected families. When we come back from each home stay we all spend time trying to process and link together individual experiences.

One thing I particularly have a hard time with is focusing on community strength rather than hardship. I have been learning so much about destruction and lack of power that I become blind sighted to the many stories we hear of triumph and community bondage. Recently I have been trying to process the information I have been obtaining by focusing on the connection between how communities form groups to combat the issues that are affecting them. The last village we visited, Rasi Sali, was severely affected by the construction of a dam. Usually when I hear of these hardships I focus on the destroyed livelihood and lack of government help. Instead of being bogged down by negative affects I am directing my energy towards the positive small fight that the communities have overcome. For example, these dams are used to produce hydroelectric power yet they cost millions of dollars and prevent fish from flowing through the dams and displace millions of people. I stayed with a leader of my community who organized a 189-day protest against the government last year. As a result of this protest the village I stayed at received compensation for their land. This would not have happened if not for community organization, group work, and strength. With my alternative perspective of development and globalization I have been able to focus on a new lens. A lens that focuses on the odds those communities have overcome.

Every unit we have been on our group has encountered people who are still living, playing, and fighting amidst problems that work against the backbone of most villages. However, with this lens I start to look at how community organization starts only after communities are affected by destruction. What are ways in which communities could react before something happens?

This past unit our group visited Tamui Village on the Mekong River. This village is aware of the dam but has yet to do anything in protest. I can not help but thinking “Do something!, Do something!”. I am aware that these thoughts are unwarranted and that I do not know the whole scope of why the families are not doing something. I keep questioning why organization usually happens so late in the game. It is very hard to focus on community, culture, and strength when destruction looks inevitable. Why is it so hard to focus on the positive? Where are the positives of globalization and development? Could communities come together without negative affects to combat?

Barrie Schwartz
University of Michigan

Can study abroad be green?

2010-04-06T00:47:00.000-07:00

For the first month of the program, many of us grumbled about how wasteful we felt we were being in Thailand. We would eat an individual yogurt cup in the morning, maybe with a mini box of Frosted Flakes, a big plastic bottle of water (because we cannot drink the tap), get some fresh pineapple for a mid-morning snack, which invariably comes in a plastic bag placed inside another plastic bag, snag some take-out lunch in a will-never-decompose-Styrofoam container also inside a plastic bag, and an iced coffee pick-me-up in the afternoon.

For a program that places such emphasis on student empowerment, we felt remarkably disempowered over our impact in the world. We don’t have a kitchen to cook for ourselves nor do we have a fridge so we can buy our soymilk by the gallon rather than the juice box. Thinking about the lifestyle we are living here in Thailand, coupled with the carbon-emitting 20-hour plane ride and constant car rides around the country, a friend remarked about being here, “I feel like I’m doing more harm than good.”

Part of me justified this lifestyle by remembering I was abroad, and that there were other lessons to be learned while here. I placated myself thinking, “Well, it’s only one semester of living this way.” But students feel like they have to live like this each new semester, and feel powerless to do it differently.

We’ve found that we can change things. Looking at our consumption patterns, we realized that we could make a huge difference in how much waste we produced by buying Tupperware containers to get fruit and takeout in, as well as a reusable cup to buy smoothies and iced coffee (and some places give us discounts for bringing our own cup!). Being intentional and filling our nalgenes with the filtered tap water in our office cuts down a lot on the plastic bottles we would otherwise use. And learning phrases like “mai sai tung” (don’t put it in a bag) help daily to reduce our waste.

But more than just our personal decisions, we need institutional support to enable us to be green. We talked to our program director about making the program more environmentally friendly, and he responded enthusiastically to our interest. We’ve formed three specific subcommittees to address the issue of CIEE Sustainability: the garden club, kitchen crew, and the CIEE climate action plan.

The garden club started after learning about food and organic agriculture. Realizing how little of the food we consume here in Khon Kaen in grown organically, a few students banded together to start the club. They approached Ajaan Dave about the idea, and he in return provided the bricks and soil to make two raised garden beds. Already we have vegetables growing. The students created a schedule for watering/weeding, and have talked with our neighbors about watering while we are away.

Ajaan Dave agreed to build a mini-kitchen and purchase a fridge for the students to use so we are not so dependent on food vendors. We are in the midst of drawing up plans for what we need in the kitchen and where we will place it.

The CIEE climate action plan is examining the environmental impact of the program, and what the institution can be doing better to make it a green study abroad program. A few students and some staff meet regularly. We decided to first establish the current environmental impact of the program (by looking at our electricity, water, and vehicle gas bills, as well as weighing our trash) over a period of time, and then discussing ways to reduce these numbers. Three students met with the company that supplies our electricity to learn the sources of our electricity, and see if it is possible to obtain our energy from renewable resources. We are looking into having the program provide the students with a reusable water bottle, container, and cup that every semester can use.

Together, the three parts of the committee held a workshop to update the rest of the group on what we’ve been doing, steps we all can take, and how they can be involved. I’ve realized that we don’t have to be disempowered while abroad. It takes an extra effort and some creativity to think of how we can be more environmentally friendly, but it is worth that extra thought. In doing so we are really taking ownership over our education and are empowered. The program responded when we initiated the discussion on the program’s sustainability. Taking that first step has made a difference already, but still there is a long way to go. What else can CIEE Thailand do to become more sustainable? How can other study abroad programs, like CGE Mexico, also become green?

Leslie O'Bray
George Washington University

Trials of Baw Kaew

2010-04-06T00:45:00.001-07:00

I am skimming through my documentation of an exchange CIEE students held with the lawyer for Baw Kaew’s upcoming court case. The notebook we used during our last visit to the protest village is full of rushed penmanship, question marks and ellipses, glaring omissions and questionable orthography. The pages of our notebook devoted to this exchange, which took place on a low, covered bamboo platform in the oppressive heat of March in Thailand, do little to reflect the surroundings, or the character who generously offered his time for our questions that day.

The lawyer for Baw Kaew’s trespassing trial is a small man named Bibun, from Pukeow province, who warned us more than a few times that he would hold us accountable for our facts during his exchange with us. Our conversation touched on the court cases (the earlier mentioned trespassing case, and the trial of the Forest Industry Organization (FIO) guards who physically assaulted youth from Baw Kaew) as well as the lawyer’s views on the different legal tools available in Thailand. He cited the constitution and the ESCR as necessary guidelines and mindsets for the fair and just practice of law that were often overlooked by judges.

The exchange took a turn at one point when Bibun began to describe the government policies that originally led villagers to the area where Baw Kaew is situated. During the 1960s and 70s, farmers were encouraged to migrate into the forests of the northeast for the twin purpose of growing cash crops like cassava and hemp, and mitigating the influence of communists hiding out in the region. Pens clicked, eyes sharpened, and all interested bodies leaned in to hear more, as we realized we were discovering hitherto unknown details about our current location, and the subject of our study. Aptly, the lawyer seated cross-legged in front of us had appealed to our sense of justice, provoking curiosity and astonishment at the revelation that the government of Thailand had led farmers to settle in the forest here, only to claim a few years later that the site had never been occupied.

My initial reaction, as it was hastily written in our composition book, was to determine whether there was any documentation of the government’s initial plan to settle the northeast for its own ulterior motives. Surely if they had kept records of this, there would be no difficulty in proving that the claims of the residents of Baw Kaew were legitimate so they could get their land back.

His response to my question was less than satisfactory in my opinion. The lawyer admonished my inquiry about documentation, claiming that the search for it was a moot point, since the important thing is to get the government to admit that the migration had occurred (they did admit this). I tried pushing the question one more time, with the same wavering, vague results.

Over the next week, as I delved into new books about the politics of Thailand’s forests in a quest for the responses Bibun had withheld, it became apparent just how engrained my American/western mindset about objective truth is, and was during this exchange. A few months previously I had read (in some documents) that while Westerners tend to focus on objectivity and a single truth, and the quest thereof, there is no such emphasis in Eastern cultures. If this is true, it explains some of what the lawyer was trying to get at in his ambiguous answers, and why my direct and objective questions about truth and proof were so lost in translation in the conversation.

My next slip-up was when I decided to write my blog about this idea of objectivity and truth. I was approaching the subject in an entirely objective fashion, intending to get the facts about the Thai alternative to my own way of thinking and proving, and to find out more about how a legal system works if documentation is not the summum bonum of proof. Finally, I sat down to write, only to realize I would need the composition book with our documentation of the exchange in it, in order to be as objectively accurate to the events as possible.

Althea Smith
Georgetown University

Making Connections

2010-04-06T00:44:00.000-07:00

The sun was just rising when our van pulled up to the temple in Loei province. A group of us students and a few staff were embarking on an exchange between two mining affected communities via a skype call. One of the communities lives in the province and is affected by gold mining while the other community is half way around the world in Floyd County, Kentucky is affected by coal mining. This exchange was one of the most powerful things I have seen since I have been in Thailand. The communities expressed their struggles, strategies and support for one another. Paw Mai, a leader of the Na Nong Bong community, closed the Skype conversation by saying; “One thing that we still have is a friend across the world.” This conversation was an example of how increased globalization; technology and overall interconnectedness can be a positive thing.

We left the exchange to go observe a protest to receive withheld water test results at the Provincial Hall. At the protest, I encountered the opposite side of interconnectedness.

“Where are you from?” asks a surreptitious government official. When we replied that we were from the United States, he inquires about why we are supporting the villagers. This is an issue that troubles me.

Out of the sixty villagers that were at the protest, many of who protest once a month, the government official came up to the four new comers. Was he coming up to us because he realized that mountain top removal and mining is an international issue or was it because we are Americans?

The governor came to visit the village the next day to further discuss their problem with contaminated water and gave them a supply of clean water. P’Kovit, an NGO that works closely with CIEE Thailand, along with a few community members expressed that they didn’t think that the governor would have come to Na Nong Bong if it weren’t for the foreigners who were at the protest. How do we reconcile this attention and undeserved privilege? Should I just accept that this is how the Thai social structure is and this is where I fit into it? By doing so, I can help these people that I care about.

Paw Samai, a Na Nong Bong resident, said, “When a foreigner comes into town, everyone knows about it.” Ben did a profile with Paw Samai who has death threats against him while all elders are dying of kidney and liver problems. He feels that he is living in danger everyday. “I think foreigners are afraid of dangerous situations,” says P’Kovit. He continues to explain that Na Nong Bong really needs a resident NGO because the government attributes no power to the villagers. He also says that a foreigner living there would be the most beneficial next step for the community because everyone will know more about the issue. He also says that if a foreigner were threatened or attacked, everyone would also know. As I make this connection in my head, I wonder to myself, ‘How many people other than the community members in Na Nong Bong know that Paw Samai and Paw Mai have received death threats?’

I thought about this phenomenon cross-culturally. Why is it that we pay more attention when politicians or famous people are threatened? This goes way beyond Thailand because of social hierarchy exists across the world. In my opinion, this is natural but not when it informs the rights of people. This could either be evidence of social injustice in a society or it is a tool in a way that promotes more justice. How can we have a meeting with the mayor of Khon Kaen when residents of Khon Kaen have been fighting these issues for years without direct contact with him?

The negative feelings that arise within me from thess situations could be internal because it hurts our pride. It does so because we think people should be judged on ability and have respect for the quality of our beings. Maybe the reality isn’t so bad; maybe it means that we have the ability to assist them in the change they need. These terrible feelings may really just be in our heads.

Many of us agree that the power we seemingly have for just being foreigners is dispiriting. Being viewed with such reverence is a difficult thing for many people to grasp.

I want to provide what I can to the communities I work with, whether it be a complement about their inspiring community or presenting my ideas about their learning center. I want them to use our resources up fully.

One of my fellow CIEE students explained our project by saying that we, as students, would act as a mirror for the villagers’ ideas and visions. We will take in their desires and ideas and then reflect them out to the public with the resources that we have. We will do what we can.

My feelings of anger and confusion subside as I finish a long day of planning for a learning center in a community. Hours away from leaving for the Rasi Sali dam affected community; I anxiously await the positive exchanges we are going to have with this community.

Gianna Fazioli
University of Michigan

Who Owns the Land?

2010-04-06T00:34:00.000-07:00

Before arriving in Thailand and learning about different human rights issues, I didn’t really know what it meant to own land. Growing up in a society that focuses on the wants and needs of individuals, I assumed that owning land referred to a person purchasing a piece of land. Although a piece of land could belong to a family, I did not know that an entire community could own the same land because I equated owning land with the individual.

After visiting the slum, landfill, Baw Kaew and the dam communities, my perception of land rights has drastically changed. In each of my visits to these communities, I noticed the reoccurring question of “who owns the land?” but I did not have an answer as to why the right to land is constantly being violated by the government. When I met with P’Sanan, a man who founded an NGO that collaborates with dam communities, I learned that the Thai constitution only recognizes individual land titles. After learning this, I immediately started thinking about the ways in which Thailand works as a collectivist society.

Unlike an individualistic society where people view the self as autonomous and independent, a collectivist society sees the self as interdependent. In Thailand, the majority of people live in communities where they depend on each other and are strongly influenced by the feelings, actions and thought of others. Therefore, if Thailand is based on collectivity, why do communities have to fight the government for the right to own the land?

Rasi Salai is an example of a community who has been struggling to get the right to their land. The villagers have depended on the river and surrounding ecosystem for many generations. The wetlands surrounding Rasi Salai contained the richest soil and the most biodiversity in all of Northeast Thailand. In fact, the villagers depended so much on the wetlands for food and resources that they referred to it as their “supermarket.” However, in 1989 the Thai government began construction on the Rasi Salai dam with the effort to provide irrigation for the surrounding regions. The villagers were told that the government would be building a 4.5-meter rubber weir, but instead it resulted in a 9-meter tall concrete dam. Since the completion of the dam in 1993, the livelihoods of over 17,000 villagers have been destroyed due to extreme flooding.

Rasi Salai has been fighting to get the government to open the dam gates, so the river can flow freely without completely depleting the wetlands. They had a 189-day protest, which resulted in a promise from the government of compensation. Unfortunately, when a community receives compensation, they lose the ownership of their land altogether and the land goes to the government.

The Thai constitution disregards community land rights, which results in eviction, suffering and a loss of culture. Why does the Thai constitution focus on individual land rights when most people in Thailand value community?

I was wondering if CGE students could share what the situation in Mexico is like. Is Mexico also considered a collectivist society? If so, are people’s land rights also being continuously violated? How is the situation similar? How is different? I hope to learn more about land right issues in other collectivist societies to see how other countries are dealing with these problems.

Charlotte Friedman
Bates College

Understanding Rasi Salai

2010-04-06T00:32:00.000-07:00

My community in Southern New Jersey is home to 40,000 acres of preserved tidal wetlands. This massive wildlife refuge is a mere five minutes from my house. Last summer, through bike riding and visits with the girl I babysat, I have developed affection for this utopia of natural resources unsuspectingly located in my quiet suburban town. For me, the wildlife refuge is a source of leisure, a local escape that provides a scenic view of the Atlantic Ocean and a chance to maybe see a turtle or a bird. A recent experience in Rasi Salai, a village in Northeastern Thailand, has caused me to reexamine the value of wetlands and appreciate the true intricacies of its ecosystem. Villagers in Rasi Salai depend on their wetlands as a source of food, livelihood, and culture. My affection for my community’s wetlands is based on a shallow appreciation for my surroundings, not because of any dependence or connection I have with the land, but for the villagers of Rasi Salai, the wetlands mean everything.

The Rasi Salai community sustained itself for generations using resources from the Mun River and its surrounding wetlands. The villagers fish in the river, grow rice, gather vegetables, grow medicinal herbs, gather materials for everyday life, and everything else they needed from the wetlands, “their supermarket.” This oasis of biodiversity, the most fertile land in the region, land that the villagers of Rasi Salai depended on for hundreds of years, currently sits under a massive reservoir of water. In 1993, the government opened a 9-meter concrete Rasi Salai dam on the Mun River and since then, the lives of these villagers were never the same.

From an outsider’s perspective of the situation in Rasi Salai, the injustices and logical fallacies of its existence are evident. The construction of the dam and its current presence defy reason. The Rasi Salai dam devastated 17,000 lives along with the ecosystems of the Mun river, and destroyed the wetlands. The villagers who haven’t already migrated to cities for low paying labor jobs currently struggle to grow their crops, ironically enough, often without enough water despite the promise of irrigation benefits from the dam. I felt helpless walking through a villagers’ yellowing garden, desperate for replenishment, when only miles away sits a wasteful body of water.

Regardless of the evident failures of the Rasi Salai dam, it still towers over the Mun River, with its gates closed for eight months out of the year. As an American student absorbing the facts, I couldn’t help but wonder, “why don’t they just open the gates?” Attempting to reverse the damage and restoring the river’s natural state is a seemingly simple solution to a complicated problem, but nothing is that easy. Although the government has admitted the dam was a mistake, its compliance in dismantling the dam or even allowing the gates to remain open is not an option for the villagers.

Despite the fact that the government has spent millions on the construction of the dam and compensation to villagers for the injustices committed in the process, along with the fact the dam does not really irrigate that much land, the Rasi Salai dam still stands, gates closed. The probing cost benefit analysis questions do not get asked and these facts continue to be ignored. At this point, it’s a matter of principle for the Thai government. The dismantling of the Rasi Salai dam or permanently opening its gates would demonstrate a victory for villagers, contradict the state’s exertion of power, and set a precedent for other dam affected communities, something the government would never allow. In a country known for its governmental instability and corruption, it is a long and difficult battle for justice, a fight the Rasi Salai villagers have only just begun.

As American students, it’s easy to ask the simple questions, and wonder about the possibilities of common sense solutions that seem so easy to execute. However, It is clear that there are many gaps in our understanding of Rasi Salai and the way this country is run. “If the government itself admits the dam is a mistake, why is it still there?” We questioned a local NGO in the desperate pursuit of a logical answer. Our answer was short but not simple, and full of frustration. “Because this is Thailand.”

Bijal Makadia
George Washington University

Garbage a Problem in Thailand?

2010-04-05T21:33:00.000-07:00

Consumerism, a highly stigmatized word that oftentimes holds a negative connotation because it is associated with capitalism, has many facets to it. Before studying Unit 2 I had an incomplete view of consumerism I usually thought of the effects of my consumption patterns on the environment at its beginning stages, for example, the raw materials that it needed or how much oil it took for my product to get where I purchased it. I completely disregarded and ignored the final stage of consumerism. At home, I dreaded Monday’s and Thursday’s because those where the days that I had to take the trash out of my house and into the side walk. I was too preoccupied with saving the forest, protecting the cows from inhumane treatment, I needed to protect small farmers from big corporations, the concept of trash and the impact that it had on the environment, was not an issue I thought about, living in New York City trash simply vanished.

Thailand is using neo-liberal ideology as a means to economic development. Neo-liberal ideology encourages free market capitalism, under this system economic growth is determined by how much a country spends, the more people consume the better a country is. This ideology of development came about after WWII in the 1950’s and as a result has lead to massive environmental degradation and an increasing amount of waste creation worldwide. As Thailand continues to develop and to adopt western ideology, consumerism will continue to rise and consequently so will trash. Thus far, “Thailand’s changing consumption lifestyle led to an increase in the annual production of garbage. The volume of garbage produced annually rose from 14.6 million tons in 2004 to 15 million tons in 2008. Plastics and Styrofoam made up one out of five parts of the total garbage volume.”
The Thai government has worked with the international community in an effort to manage the increasing amount of waste that is produced from its rapidly developing economy. Thailand has the second largest economy in South East Asia focused on export led development. Since 2000 it has had a 3-4% economic growth rate. Such a rapidly increasing economy has hindered Thailand from developing appropriate methods of disposing of waste produced by a society that is verging more to consumerist practices. As a result, Thailand currently does not have a comprehensive recycling system in place; the trash produced in Thailand is either sent to a landfill or is sent to an incinerator. Private clinics are not required to separate their trash; they can dispose of medical waste in the same way that they would dispose of regular trash. This is a problem because water dispelled from the landfill can either go to neighboring farms or flow into neighboring rivers, for example, Khambon Noi, a landfill in Khon Kaen, run-offs from the landfill go into the Pong river; this river is a source of water to many residents in the area.

After the 1992 Rio de Janeiro Summit Thailand received the help of Denmark to implement a comprehensive recycling program the program, however, fell through after Denmark left. As Thailand moves forward, consumerism is inevitable, consequently so is trash, therefore, an effective method of waste disposal that does not harm the livelihood and sustainability of scavengers in Thailand is essential.

Esther Sosa
Bowdoin College

Doctor Visits

2010-03-24T01:31:00.000-07:00

After an overnight visit in the private hospital due to a nasty spell of food poisoning I went to the second homestay of our Urban unit in the landfill. Ignoring the warning of my parents and ajaans, I approached the trip with apprehension. I had a small shopping bag full of medicine, and I couldn’t really eat anything substantial without feeling nauseous.

On the second night of the homestay as I was finishing my antibiotic, Amy, my roommate for the trip who happens to be fluent in Thai, explained that I had been hospitalized days earlier to our Meh (homestay mother). I showed her what I thought was a hefty share of drugs. She remarked, “You can’t beat me,” and pulled out a much larger, heavier bag of pills.

Meh told us that she suffers from a rare liver disease that she’s had for most of her life. The medicine needed to treat the disease costs 6,000 Bt a month and the booster shot needed once a year costs 50,000 Bt. Because the disease is rare and expensive to treat, it is not covered under Thailand’s 30Bt (a little less than one US dollar) per visit health plan that has delivered affordable healthcare to so many. She cannot afford such high prices for treatment so she must take vitamin supplements instead, which she admits do very little. Meh has 3 children, 2 of whom have an early form of the disease, and a husband. She works 7 days a week scavenging in the landfill for 11 hours a day. She visited the doctor 2 weeks before we stayed with her and he informed her she would die in 5 years if she doesn’t treat the disease.

Our 3 pairs of eyes welled up with tears as we talked about her situation. Though I couldn’t understand most of her words, her fear was audible in her voice. I resisted the urge to cry on the spot because I didn’t feel as if I had the right; I received treatment in the nicest hospital in Khon Kaen for a stomach bug without concern for payment. My parent’s insurance plan covers our fancy treatment and overnight stays.

I suppose the most striking element of the conversation was that there is a treatment for Meh’s disease that could mitigate most of her symptoms and allow her to lead a normal life. The problem is not one of biology; it is political and economic. Meh will die in 5 years because she cannot afford the cost of living.

I have had many debates about the economic feasibility of universal health care state-side long before coming to Thailand. Though I’ve never really wavered on my position that health care is a human right, it was not until that moment that I really understood the magnitude of that concept. If we allow health to be treated as a commodity, meaning some may purchase and others can’t afford, then the economic arguments against universal coverage will continue to hold strong. I didn’t deserve treatment days before because of my parent’s job, but because I was a sick human being and the technology existed to make me well. The logic breaks down if framed in any other way. Meh is a person therefore she deserves treatment.

On an emotional level, I think the situation was even more difficult. I realize that human rights are often eclipsed by economics. Those who work in the informal sector face these challenges every day across the world, especially in my home country. Meh’s experience is not uncommon. It troubles me further knowing the amount she works and the labor conditions she experiences. What is she to do in order to fight? When one works 11 hours a day there is no time to find other means to pay one’s medical bills. There is not time to lobby to expand healthcare coverage. Unfortunately, I left the homestay feeling as if my Meh’s life was to be determined by her circumstances.

As students we are asked to develop collaborative projects with these communities that enhance our learning process and benefit the community’s efforts. The issues faced by the landfill are complex and multidimensional. When I reflect on my visit, the issue of an unjust health care system comes to mind, among the other challenges they face. I cannot even understand the intricacies of my own system and the idea of understanding the Thai health care system is daunting. It is difficult as a student not to feel overwhelmed by these complexities. I think possessing an unwavering moral vision is the easy part. The challenge is to place that vision of human rights into policy terms.

Becky Goncharoff
Transylvania University

Where We Eat Like Kings

2010-03-24T01:30:00.000-07:00

My eyes fluttered to attention when I heard “We’re here to help you”. Something had gone horribly awry. At the time, our small group of American college students studying abroad had been embedded in an exchange with one of the many slum communities of the city of Khon Kaen in northeastern Thailand. In a good-willed effort to make our exchange with the slum community a reciprocal one, and driven by her own sense of compassion, a member of our contingency told our hosts that part of the reason we were there was to help them. Upon hearing her words, the atmosphere immediately transitioned from that of an educational conference between two parties seeking to understand one another to a melee-like plea for help. And not just any help. Financial help. The floodgates opened and all hope was lost.

Our community desperately needs funding for education. We get nothing from the government. Are you doing anything to help us?

Well, I’m sure there are American non-profit organizations who would be interested in helping you. We can look into it.

Only the wealthiest Thais could afford to study abroad. How much did it cost you to study abroad in Thailand?

Err, well, even we Americans had to take out loans and obtain scholarships to afford the trip here. Not all Americans are rich.

How much does your tuition cost?

(Eyes dart across the room at one another, no one willing to state a numerical value.)

We’re not sure. It depends. A lot of it is covered by scholarships.

(No one had the heart to tell them that one year’s worth of tuition was greater in value than all 150 of their community’s houses combined.)

Chances are if you are reading this right now (my beloved target audience), you are rich. And not just rich: you are unbelievably wealthy. Most of us hate characterizing our assets this way, let alone recognize it to begin with. I haven’t thought of myself as absurdly rich by any means of the imagination. With my father still unemployed as a result of a floundering economy and our family quickly eating away at what limited savings we had to begin with, sometimes it seems my family is surrendering everything we’ve attained just to get by. This is a common story in the United States. Yet on an international scale, all of us—you and I—are the cream of the crop. We are the elites who have enjoyed unprecedented wealth and opportunities while over one billion people live on less than a dollar a day. I do not mean to come off as holier-than-thou and provoke defensiveness. I’m not trying to spurn you or make you roll your eyes. I’m not even trying to repeat what you may perceive to be obvious. Hopefully we can both simply agree that, relative to others on a global scale, we have enjoyed far more privileges in our lives. With this in mind, bear with me for just one more moment. Please, get comfortable. Grab a soda if you’d like.

So where does this disparity in wealth come from? Is it merely because we have so much money and they have so little? Although Thais generally make much less income than Americans do in relation to currency values (the U.S. dollar versus the Thai baht), Thais generally pay for a much lower cost of living than those in the United States. It would initially appear that wealth is relative and that everything balances out; Americans abroad often enjoy citing (albeit usually in desperation) that our enormous costs back home justify our superior incomes. Yet there is a fundamental reason why so many Americans are able to study abroad and so few Thais can afford to do the same. There is a reason why my iPod alone is worth roughly a third of the yearly income of a scavenger at the Khon Kaen landfill (about 48 thousand baht). That reason lies with the exchange rate.

Do you know what determines the currency exchange rate between countries? If you fully understand the reasons behind the exchange rate, I truly envy you. I have studied some of the numerous determining factors behind exchange rates and in conclusion I have only been able to grasp just enough information so as to further infuriate Thais when I desperately try to explain it to them. While currency exchange rates should be determined (at least from a naïve ethical standpoint) by purchasing power alone—e.g. hypothetically, if you can purchase a sack of rice in the United States for 5 dollars and that same sack of rice in Thailand costs 50 baht, then 1 dollar should equal 10 baht—this obviously is not the reality. Essentially, one of the most important determining factors is the international market demand for a given currency. The more demand there is for a country’s goods and services, the greater demand there is for that country’s currency, hence the value of that particular currency rises relative to other currencies.

Total wealth also plays a significant role. To use a widely cited example, let’s imagine that 1 U.S. dollar is equal to 1 Thai baht. Now let's say that the Americans own $100 and the Thais own 100 baht. If America buys $5 worth of product from Thailand, America would have $95 and Thailand would have 105 baht. Suddenly Thailand becomes wealthier. In theory Thailand is approximately 10% wealthier now. (100/95x105=10.52%) So suddenly $1 would be worth around 1 baht and 10 sarang (there are 100 sarang in 1 baht). This is the principle of how trade surpluses and deficits along with total wealth help determine the exchange rate. There are several other factors—including interest rates, inflation, political conditions and market psychology—that all factor in as well (many governments intentionally undervalue their currency to promote greater spending by foreign investors and tourists who get more bang for their buck, as described shortly). The foreign exchange market, considering all of the above, then arbitrarily produces a number which dictates everything. It tells us that the current currency exchange rate hovers around 33 baht to the U.S. dollar. The foreign exchange market allows me to purchase bottled water for less than 22 cents a bottle. The foreign exchange market allows me to buy a full meal of fried rice with chicken for only 46 cents. It allows me to purchase a fine button-down shirt for 3 dollars and 10 cents. To see an American-produced movie in the theatre on opening day for $3.71. To be treated to an hour long full-body Thai massage by a professional licensed masseuse for $6.19. To obtain a 6-month gym membership to a state-of-the-art gym for $21.66. To be vaccinated for Japanese encephalitis for $74.09 (as compared to $450 at some health clinics in the United States). The list goes on and on.

Do the reasons above adequately explain why the currency exchange rate is tilted immensely in favor of American consumers versus Thai consumers? Absolutely. Does it make it fair? Not even close. While it is far easier to explain ‘the system’ on the macroeconomic scale, it is far more difficult to explain it to those who are forced to scavenge in a landfill for the valuable recyclables I just threw out. Yet I am almost tired of sugar coating the issue. I am tired of dancing around questions concerning how much my airplane ticket cost for fear they would convert the price into baht and marvel in shock at my wealth. The system is there and we all live under it: why be afraid to tell them the perverted truth? Why consciously keep others ignorant? Perhaps it is because in telling the truth we are contradicting our own personal modesty and our own embarrassment towards our undeserved privileged. It does not make it any easier to explain to a Thai living in the slums that although they have put in more work and endured more suffering and hardship into making a living than I will ever know, I will always be richer. I will always be fatter. I will always enjoy a higher standard of living filled with luxuries and opportunities that they will never even know existed. The exchange rate may be very well founded, but it is still a moral travesty. It is a travesty which maintains that despite your feats, triumphs and hardships, despite all your labor, hard work, civility and perseverance, your cumulative yearly income will be but a fraction of what I spend on luxuries. And for that reason you are worth less than my golden rings.

Alex Binder
University of Colorado at Boulder

Moo-baan (village)

2010-03-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

The Oxford American Dictionary defines the word slum as “a squalid and overcrowded urban street or district inhabited by very poor people”. This definition describes my own image of slums quite accurately. Or at least it did, before I spent a few days living in Nong Waeng, a slum community in Khon Kaen. Beforehand, I envisioned a maze of muddy, narrow alleys, with shacks crammed together and throngs of people barely scraping by.

With these preconceptions in mind, I was surprised upon arriving in Nong Waeng to find a relatively small group of modest homes stretched out beside the railroad tracks. One of the main streets was recently paved, and the others, while rutted and dusty, were wide enough for cars to pass. In the area where I stayed, houses occupied only one side of the street; on the other side was an open, grassy area where cows grazed and kids played. Flowers filled pots on doorsteps and bougainvillea grew wild over gates and roofs. And while most of the people living in Nong Waeng would be categorized as “low-income”, even “very poor”, this description falls short for me. Poor in monetary resources, sure, but rich in many other things. Rich in community, rich in family, rich in love. Though there are certainly many difficult issues in Nong Waeng, it is not the place of despair I had envisioned when I thought of the word slum.

Realizing that the label I had pinned on these people did them no justice, I searched for alternatives in English. Squatter community? Legally, that is what they have always been until now, with the absence of formal land title. But most of them did pay for their land, and they have been building permanent lives here for many years. They are not squatting, they are living, staying. The thesaurus provides me a few alternatives to slum- ghetto, shantytown, skid row, shacktown. None of these fit in the least. Nong Waeng is a neighborhood, a community. It is a home.

Frustrated with the biases of my own language, I began to wonder if Thai could more accurately describe the reality of Nong Waeng. The word we learned to refer to a slum is chumchon eyahd, which literally means “crowded community”. This word came into usage about 15 years ago to replace salum, the Thai pronunciation of the English slum. As in English, salum has negative connotations of filth, vice, and destitution. Organizers, the governement, and communities have attempted to escape some of these stigmas by using chumchon eyahd instead, but many of the negative connotations of salum persist.

Interestingly enough, many of the residents use a different word to refer to their home. Often, they call it moo bahn, meaning village. They are chow bahn, villagers. This struck me hard, as I realized that this simple application of language explains volumes about the rural-to-urban connections we have been learning about. The older generations of Nong Waeng came from rural places. Their identity is deeply rooted in being villagers, and the place they live, though urban in many ways, is still a village. And with that word, moo bahn, comes the deeply rooted culture of Thai villages- communal eating, communal childcare, communal watching out for each other, communal life. This is what I experienced in Nong Waeng- a moo bahn, not a slum.

These ponderings leave me with no conclusions, only a profound sense that language has an incredible ability to impact the way we see the world. I’m glad I’ve been given the chance to turn preconceptions on their head. I also wonder, however, if it’s always necessary to find the perfect word to describe something- can we take the language we have and transform its meaning? Can the people who are assigned a label take ownership of that word and mold it to their own purposes? Can the word slum come to mean something different?

Emily Hanson
Macalester College

Styrofoam Boat, Infernal Mountain

2010-03-23T01:39:00.000-07:00

At school, my 11 roommates and I love to get food delivered to us. We’ve had a long day of lectures, just worked out, there’s a game on the 60’ flat screen––we’re too tired to go make food for ourselves. Besides, why should we? We deserve a little service. So we place an order, lean back, and 20 minutes later receive our double cheeseburgers with chili cheese fries. It’s like Christmas: the goods are separately wrapped in aluminum sheets, locked in Styrofoam containers, and then, together, wrapped again in two plastic bags. In a separate bag are bags of ketchup, plastic tubs of honey mustard, plastic cutlery, napkins, and a stack of menus we always say we will keep, but always end up throwing out. Ingestion takes no more than five minutes. We toss our mess of condiment-splattered packaging in the garbage can and POOF it vanishes as readily as it was delivered. (Of course, there is the weekly argument over which of us will take the time to tie the optimized heavy-duty plastic bag straps in a knot and lug it outside for the invisible magicians to make officially disappear.)

But, as with every magic trick, this one depends on deception. The rabbit in the hat doesn’t literally vanish into thin air. It gets sent somewhere to rot. Most often to a landfill in some walled off corner of elsewhere, itself a vanishing act. Last week I found one such landfill and spent two days picking through massifs of what was very likely my own filth, or might as well have been. 90-foot mountains of used, discarded, and forgotten items––Red Bull cans, fish sauce bottles, warped Gerber Baby faces, hypodermic needles, last night’s to-go box, all the vibrant colors that once shouted out your name in the supermarket, commanded your need, now collaged on a range in the sky and pasted together by your putrefying food scraps, like a fantasy of Pop art. But it’s real. And that’s only what’s above the ground. There are 60 feet more of capitalistic wasteland buried in the planet beneath your feet. 40 years of garbage, itself now growing its own nature. When there is a fire, which is inevitable with all the methane gas swarming around the already steaming heaps, the firemen can’t put it out, if ever they try. And people live here, breathing in the throat-searing smog of my vanished take-out. These scavengers (sic) make their livelihood mining our trash to extract our recyclables.

Last week, I set my pitchfork with theirs with the hope of understanding their courage and strength. But instead I felt like the damned, condemned to a secular hell, which I had ignorantly helped create in my consumer paradise. Though I lived and worked with them, I continued to be alienated from the villagers; they had managed such dignity in their work, and all I offered was a pathetic attempt to assuage my guilt. I picked garbage with a vengeance, as if by collecting the most water bottles I could simultaneously repent for a lifetime’s waste, impress the villagers with my work ethic, and legitimately help them. But my best intentions translated into me interrupting their work to ask if this bag or that bottle could be reused. I only knew how to throw out. I have spent more money on coffee today than I helped them make last week. And yet I am thankful. I could not help nor repent, but through this hellish journey, led by my Thai Virgil, I have discovered the urgency of reforming my decadent lifestyle.

Cyril Bennouna
University of Michigan

The Illusion of Choices

2010-03-10T19:43:00.000-08:00

In American society, we value a multitude of choices because choices mean freedom. When we’re faced with two choices, any normal Joe would choose the one that makes them happier. Yes, there is a certain anxiety we feel when we’re presented with too many decisions like where to eat, what career to take, what song to listen to and all the other choices we make on a daily basis. But choices are often indicators of development. For example, if you have more choices to a career, your economy is healthy. If you can choose to buy a tropical fruit in the still of Vermont’s winter, trade is active and the power of your dollar goes far. Being able to choose between 40 varieties of cereals gives us the power to design our diets. However, in a capitalist society, have we come to appreciate the quantity of choices more than the quality? I especially want to explore this question in terms of our everyday consumer related decisions.

The ironic side behind the millions of consumer choices we make is that they all trickle down from a few producers. In a time of a growing organic movement and an increasing amount of organic products, we think that our money is finally going to companies outside of General Mills, Johnson & Johnson and Pepsi but they are also slowly shifting into the hands of these giants.

Large scale corporations are catching onto the organic craze. In her exposure of these corporations, Andrea Whitfill observes, “Organic farming began as a grassroots movement to produce food that was healthier and better for the land. But it is now a huge, $20 billion industry, increasingly dominated by large agribusiness companies.” Tom’s of Maine belongs to Colgate. Kashi is now owned by Kellogg’s. Pepsi bought Naked Juice in 2006 for $450 million. Burt’s Bees was bought by Clorox; the formula has remained the same yet the profits still go to Clorox. Horizon Organic milk was bought out by Dean Foods Co., the largest dairy company in the U.S. Coca Cola owns Glaceau. Glaceau in turn, is the maker of Vitamin Water, Fruit Water, Smart Water and Vitamin Energy. Kraft Foods bought the natural cereal maker Back to Nature. Kraft, by the way is a subsidiary of Altria, which also owns Philip Morris USA, one of the world’s largest producers of cigarettes. What do cigarettes and cereal have in common?

On the labels of these packages, it is rare that a consumer can find the names of these companies. It is because they don’t want their organic consumers knowing that their favorite brands are being handed over to the very companies they don’t want to buy from. Once these small organic and natural companies fall into the hands of huge businesses, it is hard for them to remain sustainable. David Korten, in his book, When Corporations Rule the World, explained how sustainable business "should be human scale -- not necessarily tiny firms, but preferably not more than 500 people -- always with a bias to smaller is better." These corporations will market and sell to organic buyers the most they can. Mass production, however does not give much room for sustainability. Big companies are not only taking over the organic movement, which was fueled by people and morals who were against them, but they also play a tremendous role in government lobbying.

In Thailand, there are similar giants. The company CP is the Thai equivalent of Purdue, using Tyson style production techniques. What is scarier about CP is that they also run a seed modifying company and have businesses in cable television, internet service and convenience store super chain, 7-Eleven. The organic movement hasn’t hit Thailand yet, but CP is similar to these companies in that they can make a moral or a value into a commodity. CP has managed to make Thai food culture into a commodity, turning agriculture into a huge agribusiness and marginalizing farmers.

In a meeting on protecting the livelihoods of Thai farmers, P’Thoy explains, “Capitalism is complex because huge companies have hidden themselves under many layers and names.” We believe we have many choices because companies just want us to buy more. There is a constant feedback loop between producers and consumers, where producers respond to the needs and wants of consumers and consumers show their (dis)approval by pulling out their wallets. But producers have brainwashed consumers with methods such as marketing, lobbying, skewed research and grandiose claims. These methods have created a loophole in the feedback loop; producers are beginning to make our choices for us. We are spoon-fed choices and don’t think much of them. Instead, we just exchange our dollars, thinking that we deserve this after a hard day’s work. Beyond diet or not, chocolate or vanilla, total care or whitening, consumers need to understand further what they are choosing. Through a raised consciousness, we can reclaim our right to quality choices and our values. That is a better version of freedom.

Amy Saekow
Middlebury College

Will we meet again?

2010-03-10T19:40:00.000-08:00

The moment I stepped back into my KKU dorm room, I was overwhelmed. I didn’t want to check my computer’s overflowing inbox, I didn’t want to see whom I could potentially catch up with on Skype, and I cringed at the thought of Facebook. I wasn’t ready to come back into the technological world yet. I looked at my bed not longingly, but rather with a yearning for the mosquito-net enclosed mat that I had finally come to find comfortable. I felt claustrophobic in my small dorm; the clutter of books, clothes, beds, desks etc. contrasted immensely with the spacious yet peaceful, near empty rooms of my host family’s home. I finally picked up my phone to call my parents, reassuring them I was home safe. I knew they would ask how my homestay went. “It was good,” was the only response I could come up with, though ‘good’ is quite possibly the worst adjective I could have used to describe my recent experience with the Yasothon farming community. My mind, however, was too busy to process any greater description.

After hanging up, I decided to sort out my feelings by expressing them through a much more detailed email to my family. I sat on my stiff-backed desk chair, missing my much-practiced cross-legged position atop the handmade sitting mats, and reintroduced myself to fast-paced technology, which I had had a reprieve from in the past week. Hungry for dinner, but too overwhelmed to search for unprocessed and organic food, I began to type while trying to push out the cravings for my Mae’s farm fresh sticky rice and stir-fried vegetables.

I had just finished my first unit of the semester on food and agriculture and my brain was clogged with new theories, practiced realities, and reaffirmed beliefs. I had come into this unit with a relatively solid academic and theoretical background on food systems and organic farming practices in the U.S., but within this unit, I was challenged with the reality of chemical and organic farming practices in the Thai context which opened up my mind to a whole new web of questions and possibilities for agriculture worldwide.

I had spent only three days in Yasothon with the Nieulai family, and I was ready to settle in with them in their humble home. My Pa was one of three wise-men of the village. After switching back to organic farming ten years ago, he saw his previous debt from chemical farming decrease and witnessed his land, now in synch with nature, come back to life. He proudly sells his rice, yard long beans, and tomatoes at the two-year old organic Green Market supported by the Alternative Agriculture Network of Thailand. The organization is currently working on creating awareness of organic farming, offering training sessions and support to farmers who make the change. The market itself has become a medium through which farmers can share farming practices, create friendships, and educate consumers and other farmers on the benefits of organic farming.

One thing that continues to baffle me about the agricultural and social systems of Thailand is the fact that farmers are not considered part of the formal labor sector. I can’t fathom how the government and society do not give the credit, support, or respect to the people who provide life’s basic necessity. Policy and ignorance have perpetuated the cycle of exploitation and repression for farmers, but those in the organic movement are fighting back. In a small exchange with my Pa and the two other wise-men, he noted how proud he was of his farm and of his community. He lives simply, but is very happy with his life and the self-sufficiency of his family and neighbors. The community works together as a family, helping each other on their farms, sharing meals, and bagging rice to sell at the market, all done with overarching love and respect for the land and one another.

The villagers in this farm community admire the vitality of their self-sustainability. Everyday, they use the skills of farming, cooking, sewing, and building, skills long forgotten in the convenience store/megamall-laden cities that crave technology and fast-food. The Yasothon farmers maintain a sense of reverence for the earth and for one another that the massive agricultural corporations have chosen to ignore. It is my hope that with the rising organic movement, small scale farming communities can reclaim their land, their livelihood, and their dignity and can be fully recognized as the vital labor sector that they are.

As I sat back into my chair, sorting through all these thoughts, I realized I missed the love and sense of community I had felt even with only a meager three days in the village. I thought back to my Pa, his face always on the verge of relinquishing a smile, but never giving away too much. “If the world is round, we will meet again,” my Pa had said with a knowing grin. It was this send off that made me sure I would come back, and once again feel the connectedness of a community working hard to nourish themselves and one another while maintaining peace with the earth.

Caitlin Goss
Occidental College

Small Changes

2010-03-10T19:39:00.000-08:00

During my homestay with Mae Pathom Tanakhoon in Yasothon Province I began to develop an appreciation and some jealousy of Mae’s self-sufficient life. During the first couple days I noticed that she did not go to the market to get eggs or meat, rather she would go into her garden each morning and pick fresh vegetables to eat at each meal. I was in disbelief. I have never known anyone who does not buy food regularly and began wondering if this was a way of life I could accomplish. If I am not a farmer can I still live self-sufficiently? How can I be the best consumer possible? What are my practices at home and what knowledge can I bring home to change these practices? These, among many other questions were bouncing around my head all week and I began to feel hopeless. I would go from convincing myself that not all was lost, to thinking, “how could it be possible to live a self-sufficient life if I do not grow all my own food?”

Mae expressed her love of self-sufficiency to me on day two of my homestay saying, “If someone has land, why not grow their own food?” At the time this question seemed hard to answer and being a trained American consumer I immediately began thinking of justifications; some people do not have enough time, planting a garden requires too much work/maintenance, not everyone knows how to grow etc. These were all valid reasons for a mere five seconds and then they were just lazy excuses. But to Mae this was a rhetorical question. In her mind there was no reason why open land should not be dedicated to growing fruits, herbs and vegetables.

Finally, after ten days of feeling guilty about my current lifestyle and passionate about changing my tendencies, I came to both a realization and a solution. I realized that when talking about self-sufficiency and changing consumer patterns nationally or worldwide one has to be realistic. As ideal as it would be, not everyone is going to grow everything they eat and not everyone prefers vegetables or has access to organic food. However, educating people about where their food comes from and what they can do is the primary step we can take.

The solution is not to force oneself to be a farmer, but to find a balance. I arrived at the balance of growing some of my own vegetables and fruit, buy local/organic when available and eating processed food in moderation. Living in Rhode Island, an area that has hot summers and harsh winters, would still allow me to grow vegetables and fruit for at least half the year (with help from Mum and Dad). Fortunately, there are plenty of small-scale organic farms within twenty-five miles of my house with affordable prices that grow the vegetables I cannot grow at home. Finally, in regards to eating processed food, it is not going to kill me…yet. One of my favorite summer meals is a cheeseburger hot off the grill and as much as I do not agree with killing animals for human consumption I do not foresee myself giving up a cheeseburger anytime soon. In a way, just feeling guilty every time I take a bite of that burger is awareness and change in itself.

The answer is not for everyone to drastically change their eating habits or consuming patterns, but to make small daily changes that have long-term affects. According to Environmental Defense, if every American skipped one meal of chicken per week and substituted vegetarian foods instead, the carbon dioxide savings would be the same as taking more than half a million cars off of U.S. roads. See how easy it is to make a difference?

Claire Coddington
Occidental College

Fish, Rum and a Side of Oppression

2010-03-10T19:37:00.000-08:00

“It is calmest in the eye of the storm. There, you will not see the vast and ever growing chaos of the storm but rather the tranquility of being at its center.” - P’Ubon

The smell of fish and rum fermented in the blistering heat. It was nearly 11am and the last bucket of fish was being pulled from the river to be weighed, transferred to a tank and driven to the market. Having started at 8pm the night before, the community of fish farmers were stumbling around on their last wisps of sanity. Their veins pumping with a mix of rum, rice wine and Red Bull to maintain their energy and make the all night process of harvesting the fish bearable. Drunken laughter and cheering filed the air as the farang attempted to help the fish farmers who were using a pulley to lift the last bucket of fish out of the water and up the steep hill to the scales and truck waiting at the top. When asked how much profit they were going to make from their harvest, the fish farmers just laughed. “We will find out at the market,” explained one farmer. “Most of the money we make from fishing is needed to pay off our loans. Becoming a CP fish farmer is very expensive. We will make enough to get by.” The largest meat production company in Asia, CP owns the means of production in this community as the fish farmers must pay CP for the fish food, bio-engineered fish, chemicals, nets, and incubation containers. What appears to be a day of traditional fish harvesting in a rural Thai community is actually the end of a multi-million dollar mechanized system that works to control the means of production, worker and final goods created in the fish farming process. With every fish slung into the truck bed, the reality of fish farming in Thailand came into focus. I was witnessing the harsh chaos of the storm.

I was fortunate to have been able to see this process unfold. Day to day, the river is lined with fishing nets and littered with fishermen in what appears to be a Thai community using traditional methods to farm fish. Far from the truth, large transnational corporations control much of the fish farming in Thailand as well as the agricultural production. Nearly 80% of the seeds used in Thailand today have been purchased from CP and Monsanto. For many Thai communities the control that CP and Monsanto have over the food production in the country is not apparent as they use contract farming to force farmers to buy seeds from them every season and take loans out to pay for inputs needed in industrial farming like pesticides or equipment. This has caused many farmers to go into debt as their livelihood is no longer in their own hands but those of transnational corporations. Before coming to these farming communities in northeast Thailand, I, like many Americans, was unaware of the control American companies like Monsanto and transnational companies like CP had on farmers in Thailand. But upon talking with these Thai farmers, I discovered that many Thai communities are also unaware of this reality. Together, both American and Thai consumers were blindly supporting these transnational corporations and furthering the exploitation of these Thai farmers with every purchase we made. It would appear that CP and Monsanto have been able to manipulate who is in the eye of storm. Shifting the burden of consumerism to those that are limited in their capacity to fight back, these corporations are able to continue to disillusion populations in both Thailand and in the United States.

Kayla Nolan
Occidental College

The Buffalo

2010-03-10T19:36:00.000-08:00

Last week, I spent three days living in Yasothon Province living on a farm with a family and another CIEE student. My family consisted of my host Meh (Mother), Pa (Father), a very yippy dog, and a buffalo.

On the first morning of the homestay, I awoke at six to find that my host parents were already up and about. My Meh had already been out working in the garden and had started making breakfast; it had rained the night before, so my Pa had started out early to plow the fields with the buffalo. Having never seen an actual buffalo before, I was quite surprised to start my morning with one. The buffalo, however, seemed quite unfazed by my presence. In fact, the buffalo seemed quite unfazed by everything going on around him; we walked through the fields, and didn’t seem to mind much when he was stopped to turn, or encouraged to keep going.

After watching the buffalo a bit, we headed out to spend the rest of the day viewing the farms. We encountered some more CIEE students living nearby, and after spending the hot morning walking around in the sun, we all thought it would be great to find a place to go swimming. After multiple attempts asking our hosts where we could swim, the six of us were lead away by my host Meh towards a swimming spot. We headed back towards the house, and my Meh indicated that the small pond behind our house would be a good place to swim. We all got ourselves ready to swim, and returned to find the buffalo looking up at us, up to his neck in water, in our pond. Based on the communication with my Meh, we understood that the buffalo was swimming in that pond, and we could find another pond if we wanted to swim.

After our swim, we all returned to our respective homes. I spent the afternoon lounging around in the shade, reading and napping in the pleasant afternoon heat. The buffalo did the same. He sat next to his tree all afternoon, and occasionally wandered around to find some grass to nibble on. For the rest of the homestay, the buffalo stayed by that tree. He was there in the morning as we were preparing breakfast, and he was there in the evening as we hunted for the bathroom in the dark. Though he never acknowledged my presence, I felt comforted knowing he was there.

Upon returning to Khon Kaen, I was puzzled that this buffalo was still on my mind. The buffalo was cool, and I didn’t feel like I really needed to dwell on him. Upon thinking it through, I realized that this buffalo was much more than he appeared. The buffalo plowed the fields with the family, he lived with the family, he swam with the family, the family used his manure in their compost. There was no separation between the buffalo’s domain and the domain of the family. They lived together. This together-ness was something I had never seen; as an animal I had never had any previous experience with, I couldn’t imagine a buffalo playing an integral part in the household.

My host family lived with the land; they grew all the food they ate, they made their own compost, they barely used electricity or gas, and they lived with this buffalo. The buffalo, to me, came to represent the reciprocal relationship between my host family and the environment around them, a relationship I deeply respect and hope to one day emulate.

Maggie Pearson
Macalester College

Farmers

2010-03-10T18:34:00.000-08:00

We tend to picture a farmer as nothing more than somebody sporting a set of overalls who is surrounded by a group of fat, muddy, pigs. Farmers may wear overalls, and some do raise pigs, but their role in society is far more important than we have been led to believe. Farmers are like doctors- it is up to them to ensure the health of the ground we walk on. They must produce all the nutrients that enters our mouths, pass through our digestive systems, and sustain existence on this planet. This is a profession that requires the life-long collection of knowledge. BUT, like Rodney Dangerfield says, these days farmers “Get no respect!” In both Mexico and Thailand farmers are being evicted from their land, finding themselves in a strange new ecosystem- the city or someplace abroad.

Because farmers cannot compete with the dirt cheap prices of industrial agro-businesses and because they go into debt buying the chemical inputs necessary to produce the cash crops that our society demands, our former caretakers must surrender their soil. The soil, which was the nesting bed for the corn, which was the tortilla, the blood, the identity of Mexico, has been commandeered by an army of genetically modified seeds belonging to chemical producer turned agricultural giant, Monsanto. Where have the farmers gone? According to the documentary, Food Inc., over one million Mexican farmers now work in America, some on industrial farms or slaughterhouses under inhumane conditions and under the constant fear of deportation. In Thailand, mangos, bananas, and indigenous rice are being replaced by sugar cane, para rubber, and jasmine 105.

It is not just the knowledge of how to grow real food that is disappearing, but also another ability necessary for living. In an informal meeting with three gentlemen from an organization called “The Wisemen,” I learned about how to walk the middle way. The aging farmers said that they were content, and their effortless smiles reflected this disposition. In all seriousness, being happy where you’re at is an ability that seems to be increasingly rare. They had reached this state by seeking a balance between family and work and between the extreme ends of desire (ascetic and consumer)- simple but requires practice. Calling themselves “local capitalists,” their assets came in the form of community support, health, and reasonable profit. As Wisemen, they were responsible for disseminating local knowledge to maintain the environment, fortify the community, and incorporate fellow farmers from other villages into their network. The first pupils to receive this wisdom were their children.

As urban migration becomes the norm, both out of necessity and desire, the youth are leaving rural areas, creating family separation and weaker communities. The picture is not black and white, as some continue to cultivate land while pursuing urban labor. But, this trend begs the question: how many of us want to stay in our small towns? Well, what if there is something sweet going on their like a land reclamation project? I wonder, why might such a project be more enticing to an American studying globalization abroad, then to the average young Thai. Perhaps there is an important lesson to be learned about globalization being a means to explore the world, fulfill young rushes, and of course improve one’s condition in society. At the same time, globalization is simply a force indoctrinating young minds with these dreams which are usually more glorious as dreams, and I wonder if wise parents have the right to indoctrinate their children as well. Maybe village/ campesino1 leaders could open their own schools and educate the next generation about the value of the farmer- in a way equally enticing to the allure of the city and cheap, processed food. Thus far, parents have not been able to evolve to the point of reaching common ground with us- has there ever been a family without teenage rebellion? Even if parents do not learn, the youth, like the farmers may want to come back home… we always do.

1. One who lives in the campos of Mexico, areas heavily dependent on native corn and similar in some ways to rural villages in Thailand.

Abe Levine
Macalester College

Knowledge as Power

2009-11-28T04:50:00.000-08:00

We all know the phrase, “knowledge is power,” and for most of my life I have accepted the truth of this statement unequivocally. I always believed that the way to gain knowledge is through formal education; the reason I have been working to attain a degree is, essentially, to be more powerful. As we head in to the last month of our time here in Thailand, I cannot help but reflect on how my time here has altered my understanding of, and ideas about, both education and knowledge.

Our group spent a week living with families in Na Nang Bong village, which is in the North of Thailand. Villagers have been living and working there for many generations. Two open-pit gold mines have been operating for the last three years in the area surrounding the village, and in these three years the villagers have experienced dramatic changes in their health and the health of the surrounding environment. Fifty-four of 259 villagers tested positive for cyanide poisoning. Many of the fields in the area no longer produce rice, and of those that do, the rice commands a lower price at the market. The villagers were told that their water is contaminated with heavy metals and they should not drink or bathe in it. The villagers have formed a group called “People Who Conserve Their Hometown” (PWCTH) to attempt to combat the effects they have experienced and to prevent more mines from opening in the area. Through speaking with the villagers and living in their homes for the week, we learned a great deal about their lives.

We also met with representatives from the Provincial Health Office and the Ministry of Industry to discuss their role in the situation. For me, these exchanges were the most interesting ones we have had this semester. It was not what was said that was interesting, however, but rather it was the display of the power structure stacked up against the villagers and the implied judgments of what knowledge is and should be. They presented power points with slide after slide of numbers, graphs, and maps. They attempted to take us through the process of gold extraction, from prospecting to refining. The officials at each exchange reiterated numerous times that because there is no scientific proof that the mines are responsible for the effects the villagers are experiencing, the mine cannot be blamed for what the villagers are experiencing and observing. The provincial health officer stated that because the villagers only have a “fourth-grade education,” they should trust the word of the government officials who are educated and therefore much more knowledgeable.

I agree that knowledge is power, but my experience in Na Nang Bong has shown me that it is only a certain kind of knowledge that is power. Scientific knowledge is power. A B.A, DR., or PH.D after a name is power. Conversely, knowledge that cannot be translated onto a power point presentation is not power. What does it mean for a community, a country, a world where we no longer believe in the value of knowledge passed from generation to generation, knowledge that is not written in books, knowledge that cannot be plugged in to a graph or chart? What are the implications of the fact that the knowledge of the villagers, both the base on which the community has been built and the threads that hold it together, is worthless to those who possess knowledge that they paid for?

Perhaps in our relentless pursuit for knowledge, which in reality is just a pursuit for truth, we are in many ways moving away from truth. I am not saying that I want to throw two years of my college education out the window and become a farmer. On the contrary, I have only come to value my own educational opportunities more. I guess what I am saying is that I now recognize that the knowledge I am acquiring at school is merely one kind of knowledge, and I want to seek out knowledge in all its forms. Perhaps it is this other knowledge that will give me the power I am seeking: the power of appreciation, of sympathy, of connectedness, of understanding.

Haley Campbell
Bates College

Food to Gold: Resource Consumption

2009-11-28T04:49:00.001-08:00

Throughout the semester we have been exploring issues of resources. We’ve been confronted with our attitudes and perspectives about where our resources come from, where they go, and who is affected on either end of the process. In the first unit we examined food. We saw the impacts of the green revolution and what that means for small scale farmers. We learned that most of our food comes from large mono crops that use large amounts of pesticides and herbicides, and require lots of water and energy to maintain. The land that it uses is eventually rendered useless from all the chemicals poured into it and the food they produce are pleasing to the eye but the genetic modifications and chemical treatments actually make them worse for your body. We came to understand the importance that organic farming has in the world and how a direct relationship between producers and consumers can help to achieve sustainability, better health, and our environment.

In the second unit we visited the landfill in Khon Kaen and saw where our trash goes. Most people in America have some sort of relationship with their waste, most people are, at the very least, aware of the notion of recycling. But for the most part our garbage disappears much the way our food appears in our supermarkets. The garbage leaves but very few of us actually know where it goes and whose lives it impacts. Few of us realize that many people’s livelihoods are dependent on what they scavenge from our waste.

The first two units discussed issues that we probably have some concept of, more and more people are coming to be educated on the importance of eating locally and also there is more awareness about refuse disposal thanks to recycling endeavors. But in the last two units we studied the effects of hydroelectric dams and mining for precious metals, semi-precious metals, and minerals. When you consider dams and mines and how they impact other people it is very easy to take yourself out of the equation. The dams and mines we visited have displaced countless people, have upset their livelihoods and changed their culture. The dams are built because there is a demand for energy, the modern daily life is dependent on the use of electricity. And where there is electricity or any form or electrical appliance there is copper, or gold, or silicon. Copper is in all forms of wires from big power lines to the lines running through the walls in your house to the extension cord connected to your computer to the circuitry inside the computer which is also riddled with gold. These minerals need to be mined and the process of mining is a very destructive and hazardous one that affect the lives of many.

We don’t typically realize our dependence and thus our support too readily, at least I know I didn’t. When I eat a sandwich I don’t think about where the ingredients come from, and when I throw out the wrapper I don’t think about where it goes, when I sit down and flip the switch on my computer or TV I don’t realize that the energy that is powering them is being generated somewhere, and I don’t even think about the copper and gold inside of my TV that is crucial for its function. But being confronted with all these truths is truly an enlightening event, when we bear witness to how connected all of our everyday actions and seemingly benign chores are to the lives of so many people we could not help but to wonder how this is possible. How can we allow ourselves to not recognize our impact. It is true that we have a bit of a consumer fetish and that ignorance is bliss. Now that our eyes have been opened to these issues it will be difficult to close them. We have a responsibility to open the eyes of others, attempt to remove ignorance, and raise awareness; which is really what this semester has been about.

Tommy Russo
Fairfield University

The Real Farang Power

2009-11-28T04:47:00.000-08:00

All twenty-seven of us Nak Suk Saa’s (students) have since returned from a pristine mountain-side community called Na Nong Bong, up north adjacent to the border between Thailand and Laos, where mountains are plenty, the environment impeccable. Except - of course - if one were to look closely; for wedged in between two glorious mountains, one lies cut at its edge, scraped clean of its natural beauty. And the villagers we stayed with were all directly affected by it and will talk of it disparagingly and rightfully so. This gold mine, built by the Thai government (indirectly through an industrial company bent on the surplus gain of natural resources), has [allegedly ed.] leaked its harmful effects into the surrounding rivers which, for local communities such as Na Nong Bong, are and have always been the singular source of fresh water.

Before this construction life for the villagers was simple, and a trip to the river meant not only fresh water, but food and gatherings for a potential profit at the local market. But now things have changed, and with toxic chemicals such as cyanide permeating through the soil and into the water, their way of life and their ability to access the fundamentals of it are gone, ignored. Their water is contaminated, and thus their food goes rejected at the market. Without anyone to fight for their cause and lacking the proper means to fight for it themselves they continue - through their daily routine - to bathe in and even drink these toxins and their limbs do not hide the effects. Dark rashes cover some portions of their skin and cyanide levels in their blood are far above normality. But the Health Inspection claims there is no proof of its source, and who knows with what connection these facts are made, yet still the lack of information alone is unacceptable (at least that to which the villagers are granted a proper review). They are kept from the results of these tests, kept from both the construction and regulation processes, kept on the sidelines to watch their livelihood slip between their fingers without consent. And who is it that can bridge the gap between them and the other side? Who can fight for their cause at levels they would never have reached otherwise? The farang (foreigner). Or so I and they as well I’m sure, assumed.

As we sat in an exchange with the Ministry of Industry, it became clear how we were received; with warm impatience and the preconceived notion that we were all NGOs in the making and should be treated as such. And so we got our information, fine-tuned exactly to how they wanted it told, careful not to overstep bounds or provide any false inclinations. At one point during the conversation they had asked our opinion on the villager’s perspective, to which we made the convenient note of their presence behind us, asking for them to be addressed directly. But to this they declined; refusing to speak with anyone but the mid-adolescent farang with whom they had scheduled their meeting; of whom knew far less, whose motivations were less inherent.

Yes we had gotten that meeting, but it was more an opportunity for us to continue learning than for us to start helping (and possibly this was the intention all along, but at the time we felt powerful, wanting and expecting so much more). And so I left the exchange and the village too soon then after, feeling sorry and with a heavier burden than that which I had arrived with. And I had my shower in Khon Kaen waiting me in the hours approaching, as too the cleanest tap water in the world will welcome me back to New York City in a month’s time upon my return home. And Na Nong Bong and its villagers do not have this luxury, this escape, and I was biased in my time there to remember that I did have that advantage. This is a power that we all had; the knowledge of a better life, and the reminder that going without fresh water would only be, for us at least, a five day chore. It is a simple power and it goes unforced but it still remains at the back of the mind all the while. Yet it is only through uncomfortable situations where we can realize the responsibility we all have in providing this comfortability to those lacking such simple fortune. And we’re trying. Now if only the Thai government and the Ministry of Industry too could perform a home stay at Na Nong Bong.

Ian Samplin
New York University

The Golden Cycle

2009-11-28T04:46:00.000-08:00

Leaving for my second trip to Na Nong Bong, I was excited to return to a village that has struck me in a certain way that none of the others have. On a near by mountain, a company known as Tung Khum Limited has been operating a mine for a number of years now. The mining process has [allegedly ed.] affected the environment and water sources of the surrounding areas. This includes the ground water that the people of the surrounding villages use to drink, wash dishes, and bath in. Na Nong Bong being the closet to the [claim that the ed.] mining site, [has caused ed.] severe health affects and reduces crop yields in their fields. This has lead them to take measure against the mine in hopes that their way of life may be restored to the extent where they do not have to worry unnecessarily about the basic human rights of water, health , and a proper environment.

The first time that I went to Na Nong Bong, the village was in the midst of excitement. They were about to protest a vote that would extend the current mine that is severely affecting their livelihoods to another part of the mountain, furthering the risk that was involved with the mining process. We were witness to the preparation, act and then success afterward. The more I learned about the situation, the more I was impressed by their passion to push for their livelihoods.

Coming back to Na Nong Bong, there were no protests, but the sense of the community and passion to maintain their livelihoods was still very apparent. I was incredibly struck by the villager’s ability to keep up the fight. Personally, I had my doubts about what the people of the village could actually accomplish. The mining company has made a large effort to slip through cracks in the political bureaucracies and make a solid effort to disprove the rather obvious effects of the mine, that it seemed like the viscous cycle that normally occurs in the realm of development was continuing. The demands of the many are out weighing the needs of the view.

The cycle seemed as if it was going to occur in this community as well. One thing that I thought to myself was if I am getting discouraged over the issue, then how could the villagers, the people that live with it on a day to day basis really work past it. It seems as if everything was working against them. The first issue that I made note of is the health aspect. Proper health is obviously an essential part of having a proper life. Without proper health, one cannot work, and if one cannot work, one cannot properly provide for their families. In the case of Na Nong Bong, chemical poisoning, and irritation has caused problems for the people in the village. However, the government and the mining company some how find a way around each and every medical problem that happens. They have even gotten a hold of the ministry of provincial health, an entity that should in all honesty know better and understand the problems that are being caused. Yet again the few are suffering for the demands of the many. To what extent can this really be acceptable.

When will our own lust for more demand be outweighed by the lives of the few? It seems like a fairly blatant resolve, however in reality it’s not so black and white. At some point the people’s lives have to outweigh the benefits…. right?

Sagar Pathak
Northeastern University

What is an Education?

2009-11-28T04:45:00.001-08:00

Harvesting soybeans with farmers in Na Nong Bong, Thailand

As our fourth and final unit came to an end, I reflected on the reoccurring themes that stuck out to me over the course of the semester. Education; Self-determination; Sustainability; Globalization as a form of imperialism; and how we as students fit into the bigger picture. After thinking about each of these themes, and discussing them with other students, I found that education was not only an individual, reoccurring theme throughout the units, but related to each of the other themes I identified in one way or another.

For example, I realized that my understanding of sustainable development and globalization, prior to coming to Thailand, was shaped by my western-style education which was based on textbooks, facts and scientific proof. While I recognize that scientific-based knowledge has its strengths, I am disappointed in the public K-12 education system in the U.S., which I feel fails to develop students into adults that are capable of thinking critically. I will always remember the “AH HA” moment I had my freshman year of college when I finally realized that the teachings in textbooks are not indisputable facts, but information gathered by human beings that inevitably reflects current and historical opinions and perspectives. The thoughts and perspectives that students develop are therefore largely reflective of the thoughts and perspectives of their culture, and the values and norms that their education system promulgates.

Prior, to coming to Thailand I struggled with my opinion of globalization. Is it a good thing, is it a bad thing, or are there both positive and negative aspects to globalization? As a student studying business and economics I was mainly exposed to the benefits of globalization, as seen from a Western perspective, and taught through lectures, case studies, readings and projects in the United States. My education in Thailand, which has been based on experiential learning and observations, therefore, provides me with a great opportunity to compare what I have learned about globalization from books and college courses, to what I have learned through observations and experiences living and working with rural communities in Thailand.

Reflecting on the two different types of learning, I feel that my Western education provided me with a background on some of the arguments for and against globalization; however, only through experiential learning was I able to form my own opinion on globalization as I experienced firsthand the affects it can have on people, culture, and the environment. It is amazing to me how my ideas have progressed and developed so rapidly over the past three months, while engaging in experiential learning. I have never felt so mentally stimulated, inspired or connected to the issues that I am studying, and the potential I see in experiential education is exciting.

One of the concerns, however, recently expressed by our Thailand student group is how we share what we learned here in Thailand with our friends, family, teachers and peers back home, so that they are not only more socially aware, but are passionate about supporting social justice causes in some way. I am the first to admit that this is something I have struggled with every time I have returned home from a study abroad experience in a developing country, and I found it very hard to live around people, who I felt, were completely unaware of how unjust the world is. I now realize that without personal experiences to connect to difficult issues, such as poverty, human rights violations and environmental degradation, it is hard to know what to make of, or how to relate to, issues discussed in books, newspapers, classrooms and newscasts.

What then, would it mean for our education system to focus more on experiential learning? What if more high school students had the opportunity to live, work and learn in a poor region of the United States or a lesser developed country? Would we be a more socially aware society? Would it be harder to go back to the out-of-sight, out-of-mind mentality that I know I fall into when living in the United States? Would our eyes be more open to the social injustices in our own backyards?

Jordan Templeton
Ohio University

Destruction

2009-11-28T04:44:00.000-08:00

As my semester abroad in Thailand winds down into its final month, I find myself pondering many things that I have observed and experienced throughout my stay in the country. Studying here has been pretty exciting, and I’ve found myself in many situations that I had never been in before.

We’ve had four Units, all of which we lived with families in rural communities. Unit One was based around farming and agriculture in Yasothon province. We learned about the dangers of chemical use in agriculture, and we observed how industrial mono-croppers, mostly from other countries, have made it a struggle for local Thai farmers, even though they have the highest quality product. Unit Two was the Slums and Landfill Unit, in which we visited one of each right here in Khon Kaen. The slum situation followed closely behind the farming unit, because most slum residents living in fear of Government eviction, and lack of water and/or electricity, migrated to the city from rural areas like Yasothorn. The landfill community faced problems with the Government as well, having that they have one of the hardest, yet most important jobs around, yet the Government doesn’t take charge to make sure that their lives aren’t at stake. The lack of sanitation, fresh water, and work equipment puts them as well as their children at great danger. Unit three was based around water, but more specifically, dams. The way of life in rural communities like Rasi Salai and Pak Mun have been destroyed due to Government-built damns. Constructed to create electricity and irrigation, the dams have created the flooding of these peoples’ homeland instead, making it near impossible for them to farm for their own consumption. Also, some of these dams didn’t even end up creating the power that they were planned to. Unit four took the theme of Mining. We traveled to the village of Na Nong Bong, a beautiful community which was intruded upon my a gold-mining company blasting their mountains away, to make an unfair profit. Not only are they destroying the natural beauty within the village, but the [alleged ed.] chemicals from the mining process such as cyanide, have been absorbed into the village’s water and air, causing illness, and contaminating the water. They can’t even drink it, and they fear everyday routines such as showering.

It seems that the common theme within all of these communities is that they are all being screwed over in some way by a higher power. Whether it be the Government (which it almost always is), industrial development, or The Man in general, the villagers have little to no power in fighting these developments put through by these “professionals.” They have lived the same way for multiple generations, following their parents’ wisdoms, living self-sustaining lives, and bothering nobody. It seems that there is no appreciation whatsoever for these villagers, their way of life, or the things that they have accomplished; they are being forced to join the rest of us in what we call society. To migrate to the city slums and live in the only way that their money can buy; fearful, oppressed, unsafe conditions.

The way I see it, they are having their knowledge, skills, and culture taken away from them, simply because they aren’t educated in the same way as popular modern society. Schooling is what is important, not expertise in the way of survival. Degrees and certificates are proof of one’s knowledge, not wisdom or acquired expertise. The amount of one’s income shows their real success, not the fact that they’ve managed to provide for their family and live happily without needing a cent. These traditional locals, these true natives, are being torn apart the exact same way that Native Americans were. I hope that the value of their education doesn’t completely dissolve just because it is different from the majority.

Morgan Miller
Arizona State University, Tempe

2009-11-28T00:52:00.001-08:00

Having just completed our final unit and homestay one of the questions that still remains with me is what are we really doing here? By that I mean how are we helping and is that why we came to Thailand? The first “we” I am referring to is the group of 27 individuals from all over the United States who come from diverse backgrounds and academic interests who just so happened to come to Thailand in the fall of 2009. The other “we” I am referring to is the organization of CIEE Thailand as a whole, a program that is deeply connected with Issan’s grassroot movement and larger international development schemes such as issues pertaining to the Greater Mekong Subregion (GMS). I have been fascinated by the depths with which CIEE is intricately connected to these different communities we are involved in. I would venture to say that this is not normal of most study abroad organizations. It initiates and maintains relationships that students then get to pursue and expand upon. On the one hand, we have the ability to take our exchanges in any direction, to be creative with our involvement yet we still have to remain within the structure of the program in what sometimes feels to have pre determined solutions. Clearly without students there would be no progression within this mutual relationship but what kind of authority do we really have to make a difference considering some of us are just learning about these issues for the first time? Are we really able to initiate change in such a short period of time? Frustrating as it is, maybe it’s a good thing there are some confinements, it keeps our idealistic minds at bay. Yet I can’t help but be aware of the slight disappointment I feel when we are told to spread awareness as the answer to our questions of how we can be of help. Why do the villagers put so much faith in us that we can effectively spread awareness? I’m not saying that it’s impossible. If this experience has taught me anything, it is the power of a unified group, but I struggle to see how we can raise international awareness about these issues when there isn’t even local awareness. Is it really our place to do such a thing?
Regardless, this blog is my attempt to raise awareness as well as justify for myself the greater importance of why we are here. Our final exchange took place on November 13th with a community that has no previous ties to CIEE, a community that is beginning to form a group to oppose the creation of the first copper mine in Thailand. While the government has not officially stated anything to the villagers and they do not have a mining license or a completed environmental impact assessment (EIA), the community is taking pre-emptive measures to ensure the safety of the environment and their way of life. Aware of their rights, this community is determined to prevent what is beginning to happen all over the province of Loei with gold mines.
It was the first exchange that I actually felt powerful, were I could see how eager these villagers were to talk to us and how badly they wanted us to help. This exchange also helped me better understand the importance of networking, the impressive reputation CIEE Thailand has amongst villages in Issan and that we are part of a cycle of learning and support that is much bigger than the 27of us. If nothing more than just the superficial first meeting, the proverbial toe dip to test the water, this exchange was a necessary step for future interactions.
It is hard for me to grasp the magnitude of what we do here. There is so much potential power in being part of something like this but is it fair for us to have it and if we don’t who will?

Dalya Heller
University of Washington

Mines, Cyanide, Blackouts, Hopes

2009-11-28T00:44:00.000-08:00

Our CIEE group most recently finished our Unit 4 which focused on mining issues in Northeastern Thailand. The Phu Thap Pha gold mine is located in the Loei Province of the Isaan region. After being introduced to the issue with a series of pertinent lectures and readings, we departed to the village of Na Nong Bong to exchange and engage with the parties involved. The village of Na Nong Bong is located approximately 1 km away from the gold mine operated by Tongkah Harbor Plc (THL)., and swirls directly in the center of the gold mine controversy.

A brief summary of the controversy that exists deals with the fact that villagers from the surrounding areas are experiencing adverse health and environmental effects since the Phu Thap Pha gold mine opened in 2006. Water tests have been conducted from 2004 up until 2009 and have found chemical substances including cyanide, manganese, cadmium, lead and arsenic have contaminated the surface and groundwater in the areas surrounding the mine. While these tests have been conducted there is no evidence that can directly link the gold mine to these results since no prior baseline tests had been conducted before the mine was built and operating. Negative health effects experienced by some villagers in these surrounding areas include rashes, headaches, eye pain, nausea and more severe side effects include vomiting, nausea and blackouts. One villager, Ms. Leng Wongkemsom, 54 years old, has been diagnosed with cyanide poison and experiences the severe side effects of her illness daily.
The government has advised the villagers not to drink or cook with the water. While this notice has been given, the Provincial Health Office and the other agencies involved have not come up with any solutions to alleviate the problem of this contaminated water. Villagers now are forced to spend the little money they have on bottled water, but often still bathe, do laundry and dishes with the contaminated water. Our group of CIEE international students visited the village firsthand during our seven day stay at Na Nong Bong. While some of us took showers, and some of us did not, I think I can say that we were more than a bit nervous taking showers even though the most recent 2009 groundwater tests showed that there was 0.03 and 0.1 milligrams per liter of arsenic at 2 of the 9 test sites in the area, respectively. There was also 0.11 milligrams per liter of lead found at one site, and 0.01 mg/l of cadmium at another. No cyanide was found in the ground or surface water in two separate 2009 tests. However for these substances, the World Health Organization has not set any minimum standards for bathing. As for manganese, cadmium, lead and arsenic, health can be affected through long term exposure.

One thing that really shocked me during this unit was how solutions for this problem seem to be nonexistent or at a standstill. People have been diagnosed with cyanide poisoning. Water results have confirmed that dangerous, harmful containments are present and while there is debate on where this problem originates from, gold mine bi-products or not, there should be no debate or lack of urgency in finding ways to protect these villagers from an all too real and current problem. In the past water trucks started to deliver fresh water for a short time until it became too expensive and a hassle for the government. No other solutions have been discussed with the villagers. Data, water tests, villager petitions, and community demands for solutions regarding the problem seem to be diverted from one department of government unto the next, like a horrible game of hot potato, no one wanting to take responsibility for the pressing issue at hand. While this happens, the children, parents and elders of these affected Thai communities shower in contaminated water and spend their savings on water to drink.
This takes place in Thailand, but health issues of a similar sort can still be found back home in the United States. A mining issue all too familiar to the plight of Na Nong Bong village can be found in Floyd County, Kentucky. Here we have a coal mine which also negatively effects the environment and the health of the individuals that live there. With this in mind, I think of the global implications and effects of our industrialized society and wonder if we can change so we don’t hurt people, families, and communities near these areas. I hope that when we do adversely affect these places we can recognize and help fix these problems as quickly as possible. No dilly dallying is needed. I know personally that villages affected in Loei province are open to solutions and that they are open to solutions now. With strong collective movements in both of the examples shown in this blog, specifically Na Nong Bong and Floyd County, Kentucky, I hope that solutions, health-wise and environmentally, can be found. I hope that that these voices will eventually be heard and their rights to a healthy life restored.

Scott Pulido
University of Michigan

“Quantifying Intelligence”

2009-11-28T00:36:00.000-08:00

Sitting in our third exchange of this unit at the Loei Provincial Health Office, I found myself getting angrier and angrier. We were meeting with the office to discuss how chemical water contamination [allegedly ed.] caused by an open-pit goldmine has impacted the health of the villagers that live in the vicinity of the mine. This was the first exchange we'd had with a government agency that an affected villager was actually in attendance. The woman who was representing the Health Office spent the entire exchange nervously glancing at Mon, the villager, as she rambled off clearly scripted answers to our probing questions. Her distressed demeanor and cracking voice obviously belied that she knew what she was telling us was far from the truth. Cyanide poisoning is not caused by smoking and that the high levels of cyanide, arsenic, lead and manganese that now contaminate the village's water supply could not have been caused solely by well digging. When we asked why the health office hadn't been taking the concerns of the villager more seriously, she answered that the villagers should trust them more since, after all, “the villagers have little more than a 4th grade education.”

This was my second visit to Na Non Bong, a village that has been devastated by water contamination [allegedly ed.] caused by a private goldmine. I had visited the village earlier in the semester with a smaller group of students and had felt an immediate connection with the community. We prepared for the first visit by reading the human rights report that had been written by students from the previous semester and by meeting with a human rights lawyer from Bangkok that was coming with us to work on a legal strategy with the community. During our first visit we got close with a group of young women who have been particularly involved with the struggle against the mine. They took a few of us to their rice fields and explained to us that even though they had been fully cultivated and looked to be flourishing, for the past few years they actually have produced very little rice. The water they have to use for farming is now contaminated with chemicals from the goldmine's unlined tailings pond that have seeped into their water supply. Every year since the mine opened their crop yields have dramatically decreased. They continue to grow the crops though because it is the only land they have and the little they can harvest is better than nothing. All they can do is pray that next year's harvest won't be worse. Every year their crops decrease, so does the little income they have to subsist on. Not only do they have less to sell when they go to market, everybody in the region knows that Na Nong Bong's crops are contaminated and are thus only worth a fraction of their true value. Yet they themselves are also afraid to eat what they grow now. It's a vicious cycle where not only are the villagers unable to make the same income they used to, but they also have to pay for food and water where in the past they were able to subsist off their local supplies. This same cycle has also essentially broken up families because at most times one or two members must leave the village to seek work elsewhere. All the women we were getting to know leave Na Non Bong regularly to sell lottery tickets as far away as Chiang Mai in the north and Nakon Si Thammarat in the south. The cause and effect relationship between the mine and the community's diaspora may not be obvious to us, but it is to the villagers. Especially when only four years ago virtually everyone in the village was able to stay at home and sustain themselves through farming.

Few of the villagers in Na Non Bong have a college education, but they know their bodies and have an intimate relationship with their own environment. Every day they see and feel the changes that have occurred since the goldmine was built. Unlike the provincial health officers, they are the first to notice changes in their agriculture and the first to notice when the fish start disappearing. It does not require a degree to figure out that something has gone terribly wrong when a large proportion of the villagers now have severe rashes and constant headaches. It takes years of experience and a deep understanding of one's own environment to identify dramatic shifts in a local ecosystem. The villagers in Na Non Bong are not oblivious to the changes their land and lives have been subjected to over the past few years. Talking to Mon in the van after the exchange, I felt as insulted as she was to have it implied that she and her community where simply too stupid and uneducated to understanding what has been happening to them. That without more than a 4th grade education one is incapable of comprehending the power structures that shape their lives. I feel fortunate that I have had the educational opportunities that I've had, but I have recently begun questioning what having a formal education really means. Does it entitle you to take advantage of those who are “uneducated”? Does it mean that your rights trump those of who are unable to write analytical papers or do advance calculations? What place does local, traditional knowledge have in a modern society? How do you quantify intelligence? In a year and a half, I will graduate with a flimsy piece of paper that designates me as “educated”, but does that make me superior to a farmer with no formal education? I don't know. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe. I have come to find that 'knowledge' is manifested in many ways and that the people of Na Non Bong have a far deeper understanding of their reality than they are given credit for. All I know is that I have a hell of a lot to learn from people who only have 4th grade educations.

Hilary Ford
Sarah Lawrence College

Dam Energy

2009-11-23T20:25:00.000-08:00

An issue that arises within developing countries is trying to find a balance between globalization and maintaining the lifestyles that families have practiced for generations. One example would be the Pak Mun community in the Ubon Rachatani province of Thailand that is currently being negatively affected by a dam that has been constructed. The Pak Mun community resides alongside the Mun River. The community relies on the Mun River for their livelihood, which mainly consists of farming and fishing. However, since the construction of the dam the community has lost the sustainability of their lifestyle because the fish populations have dropped severely or have even disappeared. In addition, the dam walls impede the path of the fish swimming upstream thus rendering them unable to lay their eggs. Also, a cause of the dam walls is the flooding of the wetlands and homes of the Pak Mun community. As well as fishing and farming, the villagers made good use of the wetlands surrounding their homes to gather various resources and different types of food that would help support their diet.

The Electrical Generation Authority of Thailand (EGAT) built the Pak Mun Dam after receiving the project from National Electric Authority in 1970. The construction of the dam started in 1990 and completed in 1994. The purpose of Pak Mun Dam is to produce 136MW (Mega Watts) of energy to be used to support the energy demand in the Isaan region. However, the dam currently can only produce about 40MW of energy. The villagers have been protesting the dam since its construction and it has been going on for the last twenty years with little progress. Few of the villagers have received compensation from the Electrical Generating Authority of Thailand for property losses but the fight continues to have the Pak Mun Dam gates open all year, more compensation for loss of livelihood, and the right to have their livelihood restored.

The Electrical Generation Authority of Thailand did not come into this community with the intention of destroying their livelihood and property. EGAT came into the area to find a solution for the shortage of energy that Thailand is experiencing as they try to become a participant in the global market. The failures resulting from their actions could be due to the lack of or inadequate quality of a Social Impact Assessment (SIA) and an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA). An EGAT representative articulated that “No matter what we do we get criticized, if we use coal we get criticized, if we build a dam we get criticized”. EGAT is in an unenviable position considering there will be criticisms coming from both sides one being that they are not doing enough to produce energy and on the other those who argue that the methods they use are damaging to the community and the environment.

Thailand is currently buying energy being produced in Laos and Burma to make up for what they cannot produce in terms of energy consumption. EGAT has been looking into other energy sources but have not yet made a decision on what method to take or if the method available will make any significant impact for its cost. In addition, if they stop building energy producing structures in Thailand it would result in “more dams being built in Laos, or more coal factories in Burma” as one EGAT executive mentioned. The EGAT representative said that “everyone has the right to their way of life and that should not be taken away from them.”

However, finding a balance between supporting ones lifestyle in the city whom is dependent on energy and ones lifestyle who is in rural Thailand is difficult to do. How is a government supposed to reconcile the wants of its people without alienating another group.

Andreu Neri
Occidental College

Power of the Human Spirit

2009-11-23T20:23:00.000-08:00

As I entered the Rasi Sali protest village, I was immediately reminded of images I had seen of refugee camps from across the globe. By basic definition, the refugee camps that dot the planet are a consequence of forced migration and an improvised cohesion of people into some semblance of a society. People without a home unify to create a community. However, the people that form the protest village at Rasi Sali know the exact location of their home, and are fighting for their right to return to their land. Unlike the refugees of Burma or Sudan, these people are in a different situation- they hold power. Their tents, make-shift homes and markets are erected in direct defiance to the government. The people of Rasi Sali are fighting back.

From the outside, the protest village at Rasi Sali appears to be a disorganized, cluttered series of tents and markets. Yet, upon entering through the main road, it becomes clear that this community is a microcosm of human activity with a unique economy, culture and leadership system. Vendors selling treats and scarves dot the perimeter, and a community sala acts as the hub for meetings, strategy sessions, media and cultural activities. This is a community with a mission, and the structure of the village reinforces the fact that these people are committed to their goals and ambitions.

Rasi Sali protest village was constructed to oppose the operation of a hydropower dam on the Mun River in Northeast Thailand and to demand compensation for the loss of livelihood, land, homes and work that resulted from the flooding of the Mun River when the gates of the dam closed. Before the construction of the dam, the Electricity Generating Authority of Thailand (EGAT) failed to complete the research necessary to ensure that the effects of the dam would be negligible and manageable. Neither an environmental impact assessment (EIA) nor a social impact assessment (SIA) was completed. In 1993, when construction was finished and the gates of the dam were closed, the area around the dam flooded. Once the land was inundated, the housing, income, food and livelihood of the people were destroyed. Since the operation of the dam began, the people of Rasi Sali have struggled for the restoration of their essential human rights.

Despite their losses and uncertain future, the people of Rasi Sali have maintained an unwavering optimism and hope, as evidenced by their vibrant protest village. Although the resistance of the Rasi Sali people has lasted for many years, their ambition has not dimmed. Energy, enthusiasm and solidarity define their community. Within the society, the people maintain their culture, values and traditions. During our visit, we had the opportunity to attend a wedding between two villagers who had met and fell in love at the protest town. We were welcomed into the homes of families who live nearby and work to support the efforts of the protest community. The ability of the Rasi Sali people to warmly open their homes to strangers and to find love under such dire circumstances is a testament to their positive outlook. Their moral strength pays tribute to the power of the human spirit to persevere through injustice and to maintain unwavering confidence in the basic rights of all individuals. With the unyielding force of hope, optimism and confidence, the protest village of Rasi Sali has shifted from victim to activist in the fight to return to their homeland.

Kate Voss
Georgetown University

A Non-Violent Struggle for Justice

2009-11-13T01:39:00.000-08:00

During my recent visit to the Rasi Salai protest village, I was surprised to witness the villager’s newly acquired approach. The villagers started fighting the Dam alongside the Assembly of the Poor when the gates first closed in 1993. The first 10 years of protest were “always loud and violent.” The villagers invaded the buildings of the Royal Irrigation Department (RID) and attempted to excavate a manmade road to free up the blockade of their beloved provider, the Mun River. On numerous occasions, the government reacted with force arresting the most active protest leaders. In the process, the villagers’ displayed their strong convictions and their willingness to persist against the injustices caused by the Dam.

The most recent protest, spanning the past five months, has the appearance of another fierce expression by the effected villagers. They are currently squatting in tents on RID land located directly next to the Dam. However, with further investigation, it is clear that the villagers are uniting in a much more organized peaceful fashion. Pra-Kootawaa Ajahrat, a monk in one of the effected villages, praises the villagers’ new strategy as it aligns with the notion of “non-violence” that is central to his Buddhist faith. After talking with Pra-Kootawaa, I immediately thought of the monks in Tibet, including the Dalai Lama, and their passive nature. Despite their devote spirituality and the resulting peaceful unified relationship with the world, their “non-violent” nature allows the Chinese government to continually oppress the Tibetan people with ease. I was worried that the Thai government would start to overlook the protesters requests in the same manner that the Chinese disregarded the passive Tibetans.

After further discussion with the villagers and an NGI (non-governmental individual), I started to notice more of the positive aspects of an organized non-violent approach to protesting. Their fresh calm attitude has allowed them to gather information, examine all involved parties, and map out a well thought out plan. The village leaders work to educate all of the protestors enabling direct involvement in the planning processes. The few remaining youth in the protest village take on numerous roles so that they too contribute. Some of the youth work as security protecting the elders. Others gather information locally and from villages in other provinces dealing with similar issues. They learn to use computers and edit video to process the information and work with the local media. No longer having access to substantial farmable land, these responsibilities provide them with an alternative to going to the city to find menial labor jobs. In the words of a village leader, “we work as a private organization utilizing our own knowledge and skills.” Through the media, they make a point not to present an image of thousands of protesters demanding to “STOP THE DAM!” Instead, they display themselves as an ideal community working for the betterment of society as a whole. Recent media footages included presentations of the values of local wisdom, community harvesting, recycling programs, and self-reliance.

Overall, I foresee this strategy benefiting the villagers in the future of their struggle. Local government officials are much more likely to work cooperatively with the villagers in creating some sort of compromise. I also think the national government could potentially side with these villagers and make an example of them as the proper way to protest and an ideal community for others to model themselves after. All worries of a diminishing passion or a decrease in strength on the side of the protestors are swallowed up by the words of one village leader.

“Speaking from the heart, I am a person who wants to see justice. Whatever problem I face, whether it is a police charge or a problem with my family, I drop it behind for this cause. I sold away all of my cows to come stay here (the protest village). Many people go back home, but I spend almost all of my time here.”

Dan Hebert
University of Richmond

Should Social Impact Assessments be Mandatory?

2009-11-13T01:31:00.000-08:00

During our third unit, we had the opportunity to spend time and get to know many of the residents of the protest village, which neighbors the Rasi Salai dam. In our exchange with the villagers, they discussed how the dam not only caused widespread environmental destruction and social dislocation, but also failed to serve its main purpose of irrigation (the dam was built in a reservoir that sits on top of a huge salt dome, creating water too salty for irrigation). In addition, the construction process of the dam was very deceiving due to the fact that the government claimed it was installing a rubber weir instead of a concrete dam. In doing this, the Royal Irrigation Departement (RID) was not required to perform an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) or a Social Impact Assessment (SIA) prior to the construction of the project. As a result, the fish resources in Mun River were depleted and the wetlands, which the villagers relied on for other various natural resources, were flooded and ruined.

All of these topics that we discussed with the people living in the protest village left me feeling very troubled. I say this because the families whose livelihoods were destroyed as a direct result of this project seem to have been intentionally tricked in order to serve the government’s needs.

This leads me to believe that in order to avoid failed development projects in the future, such as the Rasi Salai dam, SIAs should become a mandatory part of the development process. SIAs are critical because any development intervention will inevitably have many potential social ramifications to local residents. In order for SIAs to be carried out in most efficient manner, it is imperative that the decision-makers responsible for implementing development projects, such as dams, understand the consequences of their decisions before they act. Moreover, once all the ramifications have been clearly outlined, the decision-makers must provide the people who will potentially be affected by the project the opportunity to participate throughout the entire process. Groups affected by the proposed actions should include those who live nearby; those who will be directly affected by the development intervention; and those who will be forced to relocate once the project is put into effect.

In order to overcome these difficulties, I have outlined some key points involved in implementing a high-quality SIA.

1) Research must be conducted on the ecology and livelihood of the people in the surrounding area prior to the construction of a dam. One of the main reasons Rasi Salai was such a failure is because the government not only ignored the environmental impacts of the dam, but even more significantly did not consider the potential negative social impacts of the dam.

2) Once this research is conducted, the dam company must inform all potentially affected groups in order to come up with a public plan. All of the research must be shared with them. The main goal of this step is to implement a public involvement program that will be utilized throughout the entire SIA process.

3) All of the probable social impacts pertaining to the project must be identified and communicated to the potentially affected groups of people.

4) Lastly, the project should be monitored from start to finish, ensuring that the stipulations of the SIA are truly being carried out.

I truly believe that if all of these steps are taken into account for development interventions in the future, it will help agencies and private companies tremendously in fulfilling their business obligations without destroying the livelihoods and resources of the traditional cultures, such as the case of the Rasi Salai dam.

Andy Miller
University of Colorado at Boulder

Energy, it’s what’s for dinner!

2009-11-13T01:22:00.000-08:00

Despite the progression through each unit, it always comes back to being an issue of food for me. Here’s why –

When thirsty, a glass of water and a can of coke, more often than not, represents the same thing to a consumer with the only palpable difference being felt in the wallet or at the waist. But let’s think about the origins of each thirst quencher and how exactly they got within reaching range of the person about to drink it.
The tap water, in a glass, was most likely pumped from the water treatment plant which draws from surface or ground water. It travels through copper, steel or plastic pipes put there by a company at the time of construction. Looking at the clear liquid in the glass, there is nothing you can’t see. No labels, no ingredients besides some natural harmless contaminants, its water—simple enough.

The story of a can of soda is different. Disregarding the negative factors associated with soda consumption such as health care issues and government subsidies on corn production, looking at it from a pure energy stand point – the production of soda is a huge waste. Soda is made using corn-syrup sweeteners and other ingredients that use tractors, synthetic fertilizer and processing factories. Every step of the way, the production of the beverage consumes fossil fuel and other energy. In other words, the United States uses up to ten calories of fossil-fuel for every calorie of processed food, such as soda, that it produces. This excludes the energy used for the transportation of the soda to the consumer or the making of the aluminum can in which it is held.1

Our constant depletion of natural resources for energy frequently comes hand in hand with human rights violations. Recently, visiting Pak Mun Dam, a hydropower project in Ubon Ratchathani province, Thailand, has made me re-think the term ‘clean’ energy. Before, dams seemed like a harmless and renewable source of electricity in comparison to ‘dirty’ energy such as oil. However, Pak Mun Dam has lead to the flooding of farmland and an alarming decrease in wildlife, which consequentially lead to a loss of livelihood and degradation of culture for local people. A development project which was meant for increasing the quality of life for Thai people and supplying enough energy to allow the country to catch up to its Western counterparts, has in fact done the opposite. ‘The dam is also one of the most studied, in part because it had all the features of a failed development policy: no participation of local people in the decision making process, a flawed Environmental Impact Assessment, government misinformation, construction carried out in the shadow of martial law, careless World Bank oversight, ill-conceived mitigation plans, and the destruction of an entire river ecosystem upon which river communities depended.’ 2 The issues associated with the dam have fueled one of the longest running protests in the world, with a current lifespan of 30 years. Upon reflection, ‘clean’ seems to be an inappropriate adjective for this hydropower generator.

Let’s face it— energy needs to come from somewhere. While greater minds than my own figure out the most effective and sustainable ways of increasing energy supply, we as consumers can do our part in lowering its demand. Instead of thinking about energy conservation on a surface level such as turning off one’s computer when leaving the room, we can also think about how we feed ourselves, not only in regards to whether we drink soda or not, but how we eat in general.

It takes no energy, besides the sun’s and your own, to grow food in a garden and bring it to the dinner table. Now consider the energy one consumes while purchasing food in a supermarket. Driving to the store to purchase a frozen processed meal, re-freezing it and later heating it up – it all requires energy! Beyond that the food is contained in plastic and/or cardboard that goes through its own cycle of production. Not too long ago people didn’t eat the way we do today and somehow they managed to survive and thrive.

Food is a fundamental human need. It binds us together. Our energy conservation can begin from changing the way we eat. I am learning to follow the bread crumbs and am realizing that my choice of eating habits is part of living a sustainable lifestyle. The question that always arises for me is – Why do I have to leave the world’s most consumerist nation to learn about my own consumerist fetish?

1. Jenkins, Katie, Lyndia McGauhey, and Wesley Mills. "Pak Mun Dam - ENGAGE Wiki." ENGAGE Wiki - ENGAGE Wiki. Web. 06 Nov. 2009. .
2. Manning, Richard. "The Oil We Eat." Harper's Magazine Feb. 2004: 37-45. Print.

Ana Kostioukova
Claremont McKenna College

Interesting Perspective From Thailand

2009-11-13T00:54:00.000-08:00

It is so interesting to see the perspective of the world from over here in Thailand.

The United States believes that the world loves the U.S., and the government works hard to get the American public to believe that the America is a God-send to all of the other nations across the world, especially developing countries.

But not all of the developing world loves the United States. I am learning that more and more each day. The World Bank is not as positive of an organization as is portrayed in America. From this side of the world, I can see the other perspective.

Coincidentally, in my time here, I have been reading "The Confessions of an Economic Hit Man" by John Perkins. Basically, it is a nonfiction account of one man's life working for the U.S. off the record. His job was to go into developing countries and to grossly overestimate the amount of "development" that the country would benefit from i.e. electricity, modern technology, etc. Then, the U.S. businesses and contracting forms would convince the officials of that country that they need this "development". Then, the U.S. would give out huge loans, knowing that the countries can never possibly pay them back and then the countries are forever indebted to the U.S. The rich people of the country benefit, the poor become even poorer, and the U.S. has access to the country's natural resources. Indentured servitude in modern form.

Certainly a side of globalization that you don’t see in America.

I visited the Pak Mun Dam, which is declared one of the biggest failures of the World Bank. Basically, the amount of electricity it would produce was grossly overestimated, and no one researched the effects it would have on the surrounding villages. So, the dam affects the fish coming down the river. The village heavily relies on the fish to support themselves. Additionally, the rush of the water when the dam is opened destroys agriculture along the water, etc. The people are understandably angry, especially because they were neither consulted about this decision nor did they receive adequate compensation for their loss of livelihoods, and have been fighting the government for 20 years on this. An instance of John Perkin’s account before my own eyes.

I was in Bangkok for World Habitat Day. There was a large protest, of every issue imaginable. So I stood by and watched the protest. It was interesting to see some of the signs going by. The most interesting had to be the signs that read, "No Capitalism", a protest you would never see in America. Additionally, there was a crowd of people wearing masks of the leaders of the Western world, Obama included. On the back of their heads were masks of Satan (Obama's), zombies, monsters, etc.

From the standpoint of some individuals in the developing country, capitalism is simply about getting as much as you can without giving or concerning yourself with who is being hurt. This is what is outlined in Perkin’s novel. Because some of the people in developing countries are the ones who are on the receiving end of this “greed”, their perception of America is less than positive. While we hear about how we are bringing electricity and modern technology to these poor, helpless countries, the perception of some of the developing world is quite the opposite, as though we are invading their country and pushing ideals that we think are positive, i.e. capitalism, onto their culture.

Learning about this entire other perspective is alarming just because of what a fantastic job the U.S. does of disillusioning its public to believe it is "the best" and that the rest of the world needs us. What the media fails to relay is all of the times we enter a country because we need them.

Nicole Keimer
Northeastern University

Welcome to Robmoyung Slum

2009-10-28T07:17:00.000-07:00

What comes to your mind when you think of the term slum? Usually (to me at least) this word conjures up images of marginalization, squalor, or even hopelessness. Technically a slum is something that fails to qualify for one of the five following categories, access to improved water, access to improved sanitation, security of tenure, durability of housing, and sufficient living area. Yet, media and preconceived notions tend to purvey a very specific image of what a slum is. My experience in the slum, however, gave me a far different picture of what it means to be a slum community and what these communities can achieve.

I stayed in Robmoyung. The community had several factors that would qualify it as slum. First they do not have access to water and either had to use a well for water to bathe in and pay for water from a nearby village to drink. They also do not have access to electricity so they had to get it from a generator or neighbor. Yet this community had made great progress as they had secured the right to rent the land they lived on as opposed to living there “illegally.” This allows residents to live without the fear of being suddenly displaced (although the lease is only for three years). The lease was obtained from the State Railway of Thailand (SRT). SRT had been losing money and had the opportunity to sell this land to much higher paying businesses but instead were convinced to respect the rights of the community and give the deed to the community members currently living on the land. This is not the only success of the community. CODI also gave 30 households 20,000 Baht (approximately $600). In fact, we had our exchange with the community right after they decided who would receive the money, so we got to see the excitement and happiness that exists a community successfully progressing. The rest of the household would receive the money later. Furthermore, there is plan for the government to install power lines and grant the community access to water.

On a tour of other neighboring slum communities, we were exposed to even more successes. All had deeds to their land, and many of the communities did not resemble slum communities at all. Interestingly, the various communities looked like a timeline. Since the different communities received money at different times they were at different stages of development. Robmoyung was one of the last communities to receive money, so it was one of the least developed. Still by looking at the other communities, one could see the bright future and possibility of development for Robmoyung.

Much of the credit for this success must be given to the 4 region slum network. This is a movement throughout Thailand to help people get housing rights. By percentage, the Khon Kaen network is most successful. Nine out of the ten communities that have joined the network in Khon Kaen have received leases, while the tenth community only joined three months ago. Through successful organization, The Four Regions Slum Network has successful gained rights and funding for their communities. They look to continue their success through work the government and government organizations such as CODI.

This trip to the slums was striking for me because it revealed two important things. First, be careful about your preconceived notions. The slum communities I saw were far different than what I expected and places of progress. Second, these successful slum communities showed the power of organization. By working together among themselves and working with The Four Region Slum Network, these communities were able to achieve great successes. The development and progress of these communities shows the power of success organization and the potential it has to create change.

Matt Levin
University of Pennsylvania

Should the Government Be Required to Give Landfill Workers Safety Equipment?

2009-10-28T07:16:00.000-07:00

At our exchange with landfill community members, I was surprised to learn that the problem with the village wasn’t that they desired different jobs, but that they wanted their job of scavenging in Khon Kaen city’s landfill to be safer. They wanted the government to simply provide them with boots, face masks and gloves. While this seemed an easy solution, I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Is that really the government’s responsibility?”

Don’t get me wrong- the scavengers are doing a huge service to the city by picking out plastic bottles, aluminum cans, coffee cups and a great deal of other trash. In fact, they have saved the landfill eight years of staying open by recycling all of this waste that other people have decided to simply throw out. However, this job is their choice. They enjoy their job because they can work whenever they have the need or the desire. They don’t have to meet certain quotas or take orders from a boss. They have freedom. Also, when asked if they would try to find another kind of job when the landfill does eventually close, they replied that they will follow the trash wherever it goes. Because this is their choice to do this work, how can you make the argument that the government is responsible for providing them safety equipment? If I decided to go off on the street and pick up litter, would it be up to the government to provide me with a trash spear?

While it is the government’s job to keep their people safe, it is also impossible for the government to cater to every small group. If every small group did come to the government with their demands, there is no way that they all could be met. If the government did accept this kind of job and legitimize their work by giving them safety equipment, would the scavengers then have to be required to pick out a certain amount of trash to be able to keep these benefits? As of now, if the government fulfilled their demands, who is to say that the scavengers would continue working as hard and saving as much time for the landfill? If the scavengers accepted the equipment, it seems that they would have some sort of implied responsibility, and would thus lose some of the complete freedom that they have now.

So is the real responsibility of the government to provide safety equipment for a group who chooses to do this or is the responsibility of the government to provide more avenues for unskilled workers? It is a very gray area. While the workers say that they would like to continue doing what they are doing, is this because that is the only thing they know, or because they really enjoy the benefits of freedom that much? It is hard to imagine that anyone would prefer to work in a landfill, digging through other people’s trash, no matter what the advantages are. Nearly all of the villagers who live in the community at present came to the landfill following their parents, and grew up doing this job as a child. In an area where opportunities were scarce, they created a job sector that didn’t exist before. This having been said, if new, safer jobs were created, would these people take them? And if they didn’t, would this be because they didn’t want to give up the advantages that they have now or because they would have to change their skill set to something they have never experienced before?

So this simple question is really not so simple. Ideally, yes, the government would provide these workers who are doing this great service a few things to make their lives a little easier and a lot safer. However, where is the line between government involvement and autonomy? Can you ask for something from the government without giving up a little of your own personal freedom? Would this just be an easy fix for a very complex issue? Would it be legitimizing work that is so ridiculously unsafe even with the simple request of boots, gloves and a face mask? Would this lead to government responsibility if a catastrophe did happen? There are so many questions with no right answers. The only thing for certain is that everything has a cost.

Jenny McGinnis
Western Michigan University

Tons of Trash and the Lives of the Marginalized

2009-10-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

The drive from the university to Khon Kaen city landfill was one of nervous laughter and uncertainly of what lay ahead. We were to spend two days living in a community of 220 people who live directly next to the city’s landfill. The villagers live next to the landfill because they are scavengers; they search through the trash to find recyclables. The first day we took a tour around the huge area led by the community leader who explained how the landfill worked and what everyday life was like. The next morning I awoke at 6AM thinking about the trash that we would soon be scavenging through to find recyclables and other things of value.

A group of students and I prepared for the dirty job ahead with long pants, boots, gloves, hats, and scarves to cover our faces from the smelly fumes. Many of the workers only have boots and long pants. We were given rakes and baskets for the valuables we would discover and headed down the road. We arrived to find many people already working on the landfill, as many start the day at sunrise because of the cooler temperatures. A full-loaded garbage truck arrived and we all attacked the trash looking for plastic, glass, cardboard, and electronics. Diapers, rotting food, plastic food wrappers, toys, shoes, DVDs, toothbrushes, clothes, paper, and purses were some of the things found during our relatively short time scavenging. I thought to myself; this toothpaste or this plastic potato chip bag could have easily been mine.

The life of a scavenger is dangerous because you can easily step on glass or a needle from the bags of medical waste that arrive every day. Most of the scavengers have at least one story of a time they were seriously injured from something they stepped on while working in the landfill. Hazardous gas from the massive trash pile and contaminated ground water are part of everyday life. During the rainy season they drink rain water but during the dry season they have to buy water because of the dangerous chemicals in the groundwater. The community water for showering and cleaning is pumped about 100 feet from the edge of the landfill. They have been told there is arsenic in the water but were never told the levels of arsenic and what other chemicals the water contains. They keep working here because this is the only thing they know how to do and they are comfortable with this kind of lifestyle. During our exchange, I asked “What do you want for your children?” and they immediately replied that they want their children to be educated so they don’t have to work at the landfill like their parents.

During our exchange with the community we learned that the current community of 60 households started with a few individuals who started picking through the city’s trash and eventually moved to the landfill to live permanently. The economic downturn has made life more difficult for the community for two reasons; a decrease in consumption and therefore trash and increased unemployment which had led to more scavengers working at the landfill. More scavengers means increased competition in the landfill. However I was glad to hear that the villagers have an agreement not to steal or grab objects discovered while working alongside each other.

Before the economic downturn, villagers could earn 30,000 baht a person per month ($900USD). Today they earn 5,000-6,000 baht a person per month($150-$180USD). The economic downturn means less consumption and therefore less waste but also the price of recyclables has decreased as well. Today they earn 10 baht/kg of plastic water bottles or 28 baht/kg for glass bottles. Today most villagers work 15 hours a day and do not have time free time, but it wasn’t always this way. Before the economic downturn they were able to work fewer hours which left them with more free time to spend time with friends and family as well as organize together in an attempt to try to get equipment like gloves and boots from the local government municipality.

Modern capitalism coupled with consumerism encourages us to buy more stuff to make ourselves happy and to make our lives more comfortable without thought of the negative consequences. It is expected that we all take part in the massive consumption that depletes the planet’s resources. After we put something in the trash we never see it again; but it goes somewhere and the scavengers of Khon Kaen landfill will be the last humans to see it before it is buried under the tons of new trash that arrive every day.

I took pictures at the landfill even though I wasn’t sure if it was morally right to take photographs of the workers in the landfill. I did take pictures because I knew I would never have an opportunity like this again but I wasn’t sure if I would ever show the pictures to anyone. I'm worried that people in America will look at these pictures and think to themselves "those dirty poor people." This people have been marginalized by powerful external forces like globalized economies, government policy, capitalism, poor education, etc. One of your friends or family could easily have been born into a landfill community like this anywhere in the world. One billion of the world's population lives in slums and any of us could have been born there instead of a wealthy family in America. So think of the things you throw away everyday and don't take your comfortable life for granted.

Brodie Henry
Champlain College

Thinking Self-Reliance

2009-10-07T22:17:00.000-07:00

Our first unit brought us to Yasothorn Province, into the homes and rice paddies of our host families and the lives of people working for the AAN, Thailand’s Alternative Agriculture Network. We met with organizers and consumers of Yasothorn city’s growing green market, the president of the AAN and its regional coordinators, villagers and farmers. Aside from the foremost goal of assisting farmers through the transition to organic farming, a repeated theme was the hope to bridge the urban with the rural, and to spread access to safe food past the villagers who have already seen the promises of food sovereignty.

Ubon Yoowah is the AAN’s regional coordinator for Yasothorn. One of the things he said to conclude our exchange was that to foster community self-reliance, we need urban people who are aware of the situations for rural people, and rural people who want to connect with urban communities. It left me thinking, how do we build this bridge?

One of the AAN’s goals is to find this connection between Thailand’s urban and rural communities. And the green market in Yasothorn has made a lot of progress towards that goal, by starting to introduce city eaters to rural growers. But could there be a deeper connection between these two sides of their food system?

My host father in Yasothorn is a wiseman in our village. His organic rice paddies, divided by papaya, passion fruit and mango trees, rows of herbs and carefully chosen nitrogen fixing roots, are seen as an example of ga sayd pa som pa san, integrated agriculture. He teaches farmers in his village about seed saving, and spreads encouraging advice about the switch to organic farming to his more hesitant neighbors. He is sharing the wisdom of his ancestors. He is on the committee that started Yasothorn’s growing green market, and values a direct connection with the people that eat his food. He doesn’t think it’s right to grow food that isn’t safe for consumers to eat.

Right now he sells them a safer final product, but they don’t watch it grow. What would it mean for my host father to teach people in Yaso city what he teaches his fellow farmers? The rural producer could teach a lot to the urban consumer. What if one of those things was how the urban consumer could become his own producer? Members of the AAN told us all week that they hoped safe food could connect the city with the farm, and that they wanted to get youth involved in the movement. I walked away from the green market dreaming of an urban garden at the nearby school, tended by the students guided by the wisdom of farmers like my host father.

As high a value as I’ve always placed on a certain “worldliness,” and the importance of learning from other cultures’ perspectives, I was caught off guard this week by how strong my urge was to rush back home and work towards these connections in the States. At home, the mechanisms are growing through which we are weaving the rural into the urban: CSAs and farmers markets, even a few rooftop gardens and urban farms. But just as the year-old green market in Yaso made me think, even as it brings organic food to the attention of most city folk for the first time, is farmers selling their produce to those in the city a reciprocal enough relationship to connect the rural with the urban?

I find myself anxious to get back home and plant vegetables on pavement, bringing urban communities together by sharing what it feels like to be so connected to your food. For the next four months, though, I am learning what self-reliance might really mean in Thailand. To have seen (and tasted) the pride my host family felt in the food they grow and share, I think that on their weekly trip to the city market, they could bring a lot more than their food – they could bring the lessons of such a self-sufficient livelihood.

In Yaso and other cities, what is a farmer’s role in spreading the word about organic, self-grown food? For the AAN’s goal to bridge urban and rural, planting gardens in vacant parking lots sounds pretty fitting into the movement towards an alternative agriculture. I want to go back to Yasothorn to bring my host family, their compost, and their food wisdom to the city, to plant an urban garden that could help the green market teach the lessons of safe food to both the rural and the urban communities it feeds.

Maina Handmaker
Bowdoin College

Are agricultural subsidies the way to go?

2009-10-07T22:11:00.000-07:00

In the U.S, I’ve come to know organic consumers as somewhat of food elitists. Sure maybe they’re healthier for it. But after watching the type of customers that stroll down the aisles of Whole Foods Market, I can’t agree that they are aware of anything more than the price they are paying for it. Being caught in the act of buying organic food, what I call “I’m better than you” food, reflects the power U.S. subsidies has on not just the producer side but consumer side of agriculture.

I never really thought whether this was the same behavior of consumers in Thailand or not; I more or less assumed it would be at least in comparing consumers between Bangkok and Isaan. But I realized through a week of exchanges with Northeastern farmers in Thailand that it’s clearly not the same. In an exchange with some members of Yasothorn’s first Organic Green Market, I felt it important to bring up the question of price dynamics and the difficulty poor Thai consumers may have in switching to buying a more expensive product. Apparently, my question was completely irrelevant as they informed me that organic vegetables are priced no differently than chemically-grown vegetables, sometimes even cheaper.

Later in the week we had another exchange with contract farmers at a sugarcane farm. Again, I felt a necessary question was something along the lines of “do you get paid differently for selling the company organic sugarcane versus chemically-grown sugarcane?” They quickly responded that despite all the terrible agreements they knowingly and unknowingly signed for in their contracts, the company had no preference whatsoever on the manner in which their product was grown so long as the appropriate yield was received.

So here’s the explanation from the perspective of a farang (white person) working with farmers in Isaan: The only reason prices are actually different in the States is due to the agricultural subsidies which create artificially low prices for large-scale cash crops. Without the aid of premiums, organic farmers are forced to sell at a higher price, but in doing so reflect the true costs of producing. Fair enough, I learned something new, still shocked.

My reflection over this unit brought back these thoughts of America’s agricultural subsidies. I really feel that increasing consumer demand would be a successful attempt in expanding the amount of organic farmland in Thailand. Furthermore, I want to think that a way to do that would be by incorporating subsidies in which Thailand could take advantage of promoting organic food as a better product and eventually push for a more organically grown, environmentally-safe agriculture industry- assuming consumers begin demanding it the way in which American consumers do. But at the same time, it could so easily take a turn for the worst too, as I have observed in the States. Take for instance, the latest push for Fair Trade products in the U.S. Another very interesting fact that I learned in my time here was that in order to get a certification label for a “Fair Trade” product, the company need only 2% of its product to actually be certified, a percentage lowered from 5% after Starbuck’s fought it down.

Although Fair Trade is not necessarily associated with organic, certainly it relates to my point in that regardless of the benefits in increasing consumer demand for organic food, it creates the potential for companies to exploit that demand by manipulating well-intentioned policies to fit their own agenda, thereby throwing out the purpose of such policies in the first place. So then how should Thailand or any country really, go about appropriately convincing its citizens that the way to farm is organic?

Kara Heumann
Indiana University

Eyes Wide Open

2009-10-07T22:10:00.000-07:00

The look of determination and passion that is etched into my meh’s (mother’s) face while speaking about organic agriculture is one that I have become used to after spending nearly a week living and having exchanges with organic farmers in Yasothorn and Kalasin. My meh’s father was diagnosed with stomach cancer twenty years ago as a direct result of growing tobacco and using an excessive amount of herbicides and pesticides. While giving farmers subsidies for using chemical fertilizers, neither the government nor the fertilizer companies educated the farmers on the health risks involved when using such toxic substances. My da (grandfather) did not realize that applying such large quantities of herbicides and pesticides onto his fields posed any risk to him, his family, or his neighbors; he simply wanted to ensure that he had a high-yielding season. Sadly, this is not an isolated occurrence. Many innocent and oblivious farmers have suffered serious consequences from using chemical fertilizers, and many of them have decided to switch to organic farming instead of wallowing in despair and resentment.

I came to this program with my eyes wide open and unblinking. After spending 4 months in Thailand, and I want to leave this country having gained a new perspective on the world and its people. So far, I have successfully managed to witness many aspects of human nature that reinforces that people are beautiful, strong, and compassionate beings in a way that I have never seen before. I have met sugarcane and cassava farmers indebted to a sugarcane company that came into their village in 1994 and cut all of the forest surrounding the village down to make room for sugar fields, so as to force all of the farmers in that village to work for the company and become sugarcane farmers. This same company pays the farmers ten baht, roughly thirty cents, for ten sugarcanes, which does not sufficiently cover the costs and manual labor that it takes to grow ten sugarcanes. The farmers we met with are slowly switching to organic agriculture, but it is especially difficult for them because they are trying to get out of debt, which means that the first year after switching to organic farming in which a farmer’s yield decreases causes them severe setbacks in trying to pay off their debts.

I also met many villagers, including my homestay family in Yasothorn, who are proud to spread awareness to other villagers about the benefits of organic farming: more nutrient-enriched soil, more animals on their fields, a diverse variety of crops, and less expensive since one does not need to factor in the cost of chemical fertilizers, through the Green Market that they created one year ago. The Green Market is composed of roughly thirty stalls that sell only organic produce and organically fed meat. Their primary motive is not to make a profit, but to encourage others to lead healthier lives by eating organically, and to encourage others to switch to organic farming as well. The villagers I was lucky enough to meet with had a huge impact on me because they have dedicated their lives to a cause, even when faced with the obstacle of fighting against a government that constantly implements policies that are in direct opposition to the goals of the villagers.

After only a month here, I can honestly say that I have already acquired a new outlook on people. I have never experienced or witnessed much suffering throughout all twenty years of my life, which are both privileges and disadvantages. While I am lucky to have never suffered much, I have been sheltered from the struggles and pain that most of the world’s population endures on a daily basis. Since being in Thailand, the capacity of the human spirit and heart has amazed me. I was immediately struck by a feeling of awe while watching people who have been knowingly hurt and oppressed by their own government come together to actively fight against the injustices that face them in a struggle to preserve their culture.

Katherine Steinhardt
Goucher College