There is no way to tell that this man was once far handier with a gun than he was with the shovel he now uses to tend his fruit orchard. Three decades ago, no one could have foreseen that this Chinese soldier, who fought against communism for 17 years in battles that sometimes spilled over into Thailand, would end up leading a tranquil life as a farmer.

"I never imagined it myself," said Kosol Chairakprangput through a nephew who was acting as translator.

Kosol Chairakprangput

Now 68 years old, the ex-soldier, whose nickname is Phu Phan ("The Colonel"), owns a fruit farm that fills other farmers with envy. His brick house is surrounded by shady green trees which bear peaches, persimmons, plums, Chinese pears, kiwi fruit, and soft-seeded pomegranates, and serve the dual purposes of preventing soil erosion and generating income.

Not long after he got married in Yunnan in southern China, Phu Phan took his wife with him on horseback as he joined with other resisting soldiers to escape the communist takeover in China. He continued to fight the communists, retreating into Mae Sai and Chiang Rai in Thailand. He joined Thai military forces in fighting communist insurgents in various areas until, after a final battle at Khao Khor, Phetchabun in 1973, the Thai government granted his anti-communist troops permission to remain permanently in the country. They chose to make their home in Ban Kum near Chiang Mai.

The first assistance given to them in their new home came from the Royal Project, a sign of His Majesty the King's concern for their well-being.

"The King visited us and brought us lots of essentials," Mr Kosol recalled. "He was very kind to us."

In conformity with the King's conviction that the best kind of assistance is that which leads to self-reliance, the ex-soldiers were taught temperate-zone agriculture. Like many others, Mr Kosol laid down his gun and took up a plough instead.

"His Majesty told us to take good care of the peach trees, and they would yield fruit for us that we could sell to earn income," he recalled. "I have followed his advice."

Mr Kosol's hard work soon paid off, to the point that today his farm serves as a study site where other interested farmers can learn about cultivating temperate-zone crops. He remarked that, at the time when he left his homeland, he had nothing to lose. Now he has a house and a farm, and is happy amid his children and grandchildren.

He also finds a source of contentment in the simple fact of being able to live in peace. "Wars only kill people," he said. "You see your friends die every day. A soldier's life is very difficult."

At 5:30 p.m. the valley where the Royal Ang-khang Agricultural Station is l

Kajorn Suriya

ocated is soaked under a light drizzle.

"In a minute you'll see a rainbow appear over the green hill across from us," said Kajorn Suriya, a forestry extension officer at the station. "It's very beautiful."

And as he predicted, the arc of a spectacular rainbow soon curved over the entire valley.

Mr Kajorn is proud of the green hill across the way. In 1970, when the agricultural station was beginning its research into highland farming, it was totally denuded of trees, with weeds the only vegetation to be seen on its slopes.

After making numerous visits, the King suggested that the researchers find out whether imported temperate forest trees could survive at altitudes higher than 1,400 metres above sea level.

Seeds were donated from China, Japan, and Taiwan, and when the reforestation project using these imported species got underway in 1982, Mr Kajorn took part in it. He himself planted many of the trees that now cover the slopes.

"The hilly area covers 56 rai," he explained. "We divided it into 12 plots, one each for the dozen species we received at first. We wanted to learn which ones grew best here, and also to look into their commercial potential."

Soon afterward, the station was producing new seedlings, which were transferred to various Royal Project centres in five northern provinces.

In 1984, Her Royal Highness Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn learned during a visit to a Royal Project village that its residents were having difficulty finding firewood. She asked researchers to find a fast-growing tree that might help them solve the problem, and this initiative grew into a community forest project that expanded to include 257 villages under 35 Royal Project centres.

"The green forest came back to my village after Acharn Kajorn arrived here 10 years ago," recalled Chakoy Pueatit, head of the Muser village of Ban Kob Dong, where the community forest project started.

"Forests take a long time to regenerate, 10 years or more," said Mr Kajorn. "But we had to make villagers see the importance of growing and preserving them.""

They have since gotten the point. "The reappearance of the forest has made us see how different things are now," Mr Chakoy said. "In the old days we had to endure drought and wildfires. Now the moisture is back and the water level in the reservoir is higher."

He went on to explain that adult villagers helped to sustain the new woodlands by joining together to plant new trees twice yearly, and to take turns keeping watch for fires. The Muser are not the only mountain people who have recognised the urgency of rehabilitating damaged forests. Hmong tribesmen and other hilltribes in the area have come to a similar awareness.

"The new generations of Hmong are helping to protect our community forest," said Tong Sae Li, the chief of the Hmong village of Ban Khunklang, adding that one of his sons graduated from Kasetsart University and now works with the Royal Forestry Department.

Gerbera, 'mums replace poppies

Another Hmong, 33-year-old Leng Sae Li, recalls less optimistic times, when he spent his teen years helping his parents to grow poppies and corn.

"This whole area was full of opium," he said. "I probably would have wound up growing it too, and breaking the law, if the Royal Project hadn't arrived here."

He didn't go to school, because there were none in those days. But when the Royal Project started introducing chrysanthemum and gerbera farming to highland people when he was 18, he saw it as a chance to learn something new and useful, and decided to try his hand at it.

Since the amount of arable land in the North's mountainous terrain is limited, the new generations of hilltribe villagers often have no land of their own. To solve the problem, they form groups to rent pieces of land which are then divided into plots where each member can cultivate temperate flowers, which do not require much space.

Leng Sae Li

"Those blooms were quite a sight for us when we first started growing them," said Mr Leng. "They were so strange and beautiful. And they fetched high prices. Now I earn 200 to 300 baht a day from my flowers, and I also have a small plot of apricots to sell to canned food factories."

In an effort to integrate himself better into the social mainstream, Mr Leng recently completed his elementary education through a non-formal programme. "I can read and write Thai a little now," he said with a smile.

The income from his substitute cash crops has provided Mr Leng's family with a reasonably comfortable living, though not a luxurious one by city standards. But life with all the conveniences is not his priority. His goal is to work hard and be able to pay for his four children's education.

"My eldest daughter is in secondary school now, and would like to continue on to study agriculture," he explained, "but I'm afraid I might not be able to afford it."

That is probably one of the reasons why Mr Leng often drops in at the research station to update himself on new crops and farming techniques.

The better prices they bring on the market is not the only reason he likes trying new flowers, though, he said. He also views it as an opportunity to try something unfamiliar, and as a challenge.

The strawberry man

There is a Thai adage which says that if a person masters a single skill, it can bring him success.

Dr Narongchai Pipattanawong, a researcher at Kasetsart University, has chosen to become an expert on strawberries. If the adage is interpreted to mean that his knowledge has made him rich, then it is wrong. But his expertise has helped many hilltribe farmers to free themselves from poverty. Last year, the strawberry farmers at Ban Kob Dong on Doi Angkhang in Chiang Mai got 160 baht a kilogramme of strawberries, and with proper care, their small, 200 square wah plot can yield about 1,300 kilogrammes of berries per crop.

After graduating from Kasetsart University in 1983, Dr Narongchai joined the Royal Project for seven years, as he thought then that the work would enable him to help the King's goals to be realised. But despite his academic knowledge, he soon found that there were many things he still had to learn about work in the fields.

After five years as chief of the Royal Angkhang Agricultural Station, he went to Japan to continue his study, and chose to focus on strawberries. He returned in 1996 to teach at Kasetsart, and has since rejoined the Royal Project as head of the strawberry research project.

Research on strawberry cultivation was started by Professor Chupong Sukumonnan of Kasetsart University with support from the US government. One of the popular varieties developed for the Thai highlands is called "70" to celebrate the King's 70th birthday in 1997, the year the strain came into being. 70 is a sweet-and-sour berry that is popular locally. The more sour varieties are mostly exported to Japan.

"There is still a lot of room to improve our strawberry farming," Dr Narongchai admitted. "And there is a lot of work that we researchers still have to do to help the highland farmers with these new crops and the agricultural methods that come with them."