Thailand Journal – Entry 4 - To Chiang Mai

Mood: Inquisitive

I’ve been lagging behind on the journal entries so there will be no shortage of stories to tell once I get time to actually post them, albeit they will be a bit dated.

After visiting the Grand Palace in Bangkok, we drove by Tuk-tuk (three-wheeled motor cars with a small carriage behind the driver) to a massage parlour. I was apprehensive at the thought of having some stranger poke and prod me, but only for a few moments; it dawned on me that I must take advantage of opportunities to try new things and to “leap first and think later” in certain situations. It was a wise decision because the Thai massage was absolutely wonderful. I was so relaxed that I almost fell asleep.

My stay in Bangkok would (unfortunately) be short-lived. That evening, I packed my things and endured heavy traffic to the train station where I would begin a 13-hour overnight trip to the northern region of Thailand and the city of Chiang Mai. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep on the train as the beds provided were surprisingly comfortable; however, shortly after drifting off a group of Americans boarded nearby and (not helping to shed American tourists’ reputation for being obnoxious) conversed loudly and without restraint. Eventually, the train became silent, save for the clickity-clack of the train wheels and I had a reasonably restful sleep.

I awoke at dawn and spent the last few hours on the train watching the scenery speed by. The human-dominated landscapes contrasted sharply with deep green forests. I saw no wildlife to excite my hope that tigers still roamed the latter; however, I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a tiger out there, struggling with a precarious selection of resources upon which it could survive and avoiding the humans which quickly convert what’s left. I casually perused one of the latest “Tiger Conservation Landscape” reports, evaluating just where tigers exist in Thailand – they lack a true stronghold where their long-term persistence can be assured and their occupation is spotty at best, but there is potential. Scientifically, we know what needs to be done, but our understanding of how to address tiger-human dynamics is anything but certain...otherwise the tiger would have been saved already and I wouldn’t even be here.

After pulling into Chiang Mai, I hopped aboard a Song-Tow (a sort of converted pick-up truck with a rear-cabin to hold a group of people) and crossed the city to Chiang Mai University’s International Center Hostel. I took notice that Chiang Mai was slightly cooler than Bangkok and though this might be primarily due to latitudinal variation in temperature, the former had far more vegetation, which has a cooling affect on the local landscape. The city is surrounded by green mountains, which excited my sense of adventure.

Over the next few days, I sampled some of the city sights, aided by a group of kind, English-speaking CMU students. I was pleased to see that there was no shortage of broken english (or "Engrish"), which can be quite amusing. One apartment advertised a "big pipe of Internet!" and after asking about it to one of my Thai friends he happily acknowledged it, saying "Yes...BIG pipe". Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find any pipes of internet though, let alone big ones.

I was, however, able to get to know the four other students in the program and gave out business cards detailing what they could do to help stop the illegal trade in endangered species, which I hear has a niche in Chiang Mai’s various markets (more of that later...). It didn't take long for everyone to acknowledge my love for tigers as a defining characteristic of myself and I've become a bit of an archetype, although I have no problem with this. The program coordinators have affectionately called me "Seua" (pronounced in a rising tone as if asking a question) which means "tiger" in Thai.

I also had the opportunity to look at some reports penned by former students of the program, detailing their own experiences with community or NGO work. I was intrigued to read one report by a student who participated in swidden agriculture (whereby the landscape is burned to free up nutrients stored in existing organic matter so they can be accessible to crops planted in the cleared area) in a hill tribe community. I don’t know much about swidden agriculture, though I know how damaging it can be to local ecosystems. In more tropical climates, most of the nutrients in the ecosystem are locked up in organic matter rather than the soil; when this matter is burned, it is released, but not all of it is returned to the soil, which is otherwise quite nutrient poor. Over time, the nutrients endemic to the ecosystem are washed away through erosion and agriculture must eventually switch to a new patch of land. So, in addition to the blatant loss of wildlife and wild habitat destroyed by fire, the loss of nutrients means that recovery of the ecosystem to its natural state may take an unfathomable amount of time. While this practice has been occurring for quite some time, never has it been occurring at such a massive scale, given the increases in human populations. This form of agriculture has become an unfortunate key component in the current mass extinction event we are rendering onto the life of earth; much of swidden agriculture occurs in the tropics where species richness is greatest.

(Feel free to correct me if I got it wrong...it's been quite some time since I studied ecology)

In the report, the student used elegant wording which effectively romanticized the process of hill tribe agriculture and marvelled at the sight of an entire mountain engulfed in flames. I wonder if the student had stopped to think about the implications of this form of agriculture or if they simply believed it to be acceptable by right of it being commonplace within another culture. I would think that the sight of an entire mountain of forest being set ablaze might raise questions on the environmental implications to most western students, whether or not they particularly care about such implications. However, these environmental implications were never mentioned. Trent University students are quite environmentally conscious so I wondered if there was some other reason for not commenting on the environmental impacts of swidden agriculture.

It would be indeed be arrogant of me to conclude whether the agricultural practices of this specific community were “good” or “bad” because there exists significant lacunae in my understanding of local conditions, both ecological and anthropological. Nevertheless, it caused me to wonder about the interaction of foreign beliefs or understanding with a different set of beliefs and understanding within the realm of “culture”. Applying to the Thailand Year Abroad Program, I was warned time and time again of the pitfalls of judging foreign culture and practices based on my personal beliefs. As a participant of the program, I am meant to learn by being an impartial observer, immersed in a culture I should respect and, therefore, accept. I can understand and appreciate the reasoning for this; however, reading the student’s report, I began to wonder if some students had become so distant from their own ideas, opinions and beliefs that they didn’t allow themselves the opportunity to question what they experienced for fear they could be accused of being culturally intolerant. There is indeed a fine line to walk between cultural insensitivity and upholding a global citizen’s responsibility to make their world a better place through questioning how we, as a species, conduct ourselves; however, I think that is no excuse to avoid walking that line.

Consider the issue of endangered species in Traditional Chinese Medicine. In the 1980’s, tiger conservationists discovered that India’s tigers were disappearing from the very parks established to protect them. It was eventually discovered that tigers were being killed and exported to China where their body parts would be used to make medicine under the Traditional Chinese Medicine (or TCM) system. This system of health care is widely accepted in China and has been practiced for thousands of years. More recently, however, the demand for tiger parts increased and the South China subspecies of tiger was virtually wiped out; TCM had turned to other countries to provide tigers and their coveted body parts. Panic spread throughout the conservation community and campaigns began to address this issue. However, those seeking to save the tiger from being eaten into extinction had to tread carefully...with the cause of poaching being linked directly to TCM, the issue might have been interpreted as one culture versus another and an attack on Chinese sovereignty from the west. I am sure those heavily invested in tiger medicines attempted to paint the issue as such, but the conservation community was successful in convincing China to respond. In 1993, trade in tiger parts and derivatives was banned in China and government sponsored ad campaigns warned of the implications of buying medicines with tiger parts. I find it fascinating that tiger conservationists dared to question what was seen as part of another culture and dared to call upon action to change processes which were detrimental to something they valued. I would be lying if I said I knew exactly how they did it, but observing the recent actions of the International Tiger Coalition in response to a lobby in China seeking to dissolve the 1993 ban, I’ve been able to get a sense of how they situation may have been handled. The conservation community has interacted intimately with the TCM community. A forum of mutual respect has been able to give rise to culturally acceptable solutions which involve herbal alternatives to tiger parts and action within the TCM community to remove tiger parts from acceptable ingredients. Many representatives of this community have spoken out against poaching of tigers for their body parts, citing their responsibility not only to their patients, but also to the planet. Moreover, the TCM community does not want to be blamed for the extinction of the tiger.

It is possible that we, as fellow humans, can learn from each other and question what we do for the sake of creating a better future. We should not promote cultural imperialism or an international cultural monoculture nor should we promote apathy. Instead, I think we need to uphold our respect of our inherent potential as a species while maintaining a healthy level of humility, reminding ourselves that we are not perfect...that no person, no group of people and no culture is perfect. We are greatness in the making, shedding the mistakes of generations past, but building upon its triumphs. We still have far to go... we currently cannot seem to coexist sustainably and peacefully with the environment and wildlife even though we rely on the persistence and integrity of the latter for our own survival. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t. Every religion, every country, every culture has, embedded within their value systems, virtues which promote our responsibility to protect and sustain nature as well as ourselves. If we dig deeper and allow ourselves to forgo pride, we can incorporate these virtues and ideas into our own lives, and share our own with others while still maintaining our own independence.

I was incredibly moved by an Indigenous Environmental Studies course I took in my second year at university – the ideas in the course, though centered on the world view of Haudenosaunee culture, was relevant to all cultures. When the Dutch interacted with the Haudenosaunee people, the Haudenosaunee created a wampum belt depicting two horizontal lines upon a background of white. These two lines symbolized a Dutch boat and a Haudenosaunee canoe. The idea was that these boats, representative of two different cultures, were travelling together along the river of life...applied within a larger context, we as a species, travel along the same river together. It is possible that both vessels can navigate close enough to each other that they can exchange tips on how to navigate this river or provide other kinds of aid; however, the boats must not attempt to steer each other nor crowd out other boats. With diversity comes strength for us to navigate this river of life, even when the river becomes difficult to navigate. I think it is a wonderful analogy that one should keep in mind when interacting with different cultures and one I will keep in mind when touring the many wonderful vessels of culture we travel upon.