Caught up in a tourist trap

Caught up in a tourist trap

Culture and tradition are what make Chiang Khan attractive, but with 650,000 visitors a year it's hard to maintain the town's identity

Ebbing fortunes: Tourists take a cruise run by Chiang Khan fishermen to see the sights of the Mekong River. The fishermen have branched out into eco-tourism as catches have declined. PHOTOS: Paritta Wangkiat
Ebbing fortunes: Tourists take a cruise run by Chiang Khan fishermen to see the sights of the Mekong River. The fishermen have branched out into eco-tourism as catches have declined. PHOTOS: Paritta Wangkiat

'You catch anything?" I ask fisherman Bueak while sitting in the back of his boat.

"We'll see," he answers while dragging his mong-lai, or floating net, out of the water as the beam from his flashlight penetrates the surging water.

We are floating on his pink boat in the middle of the Mekong River under a cool night sky. The relief from the heat of the day is more than welcome.

The two different sides of the Mighty Mekong are also as different as night and day. On the Lao side, the woods stand in quiet silhouette, but on the Thai side Chiang Khan's walking street is reverberating with lights and noise.

The once sleepy village in a remote corner of Loei province has become a mini mecca for tourists, especially locals, seeking a taste of an "authentic" river idyll.

Ironically, it's the fishing village's temples, teak houses and culture that are both attracting the visitors and transforming Chiang Khan. About 20% of the traditional wooden houses lining the banks of the river have been bought by outsiders, renovated and turned into "authentic" guest houses and shops.

From our boat on the river we can hear the strains of karaoke in the distance. If not for the music or the twinkling lights shimmering on the water, Chiang Khan would from the distance look like a mystical village sitting on a hill, Thailand's very own version of Hollywood's Scottish village Brigadoon which appears for only one day every 100 years.

But the travel guides are selling the "new" Chiang Khan, with its busy walking street, boutique wooden hotels, heritage architecture, ubiquitous cafes and souvenir shops. "I Love Chiang Khan" T-shirts hang everywhere.

I had joined Bueak (an affectionate, if rude nickname meaning "stupid") on a whim. He and his fishermen friends were sitting on the banks of the Mekong playing the guitar when they asked me if I wanted to join them on a >> >> night fishing expedition. "We didn't get any fish," Bueak eventually says to me as he pulls the last part of the net out of the water. "But we will on the next ride."

He fires up the engine and we return to a communal floating raft where the fishermen park their boats.

A SHORT, COLOURFUL HISTORY

Chiang Khan has a short history when compared to other historic places in Thailand. It was founded in the late 19th century when villagers crossed the Mekong after the French colonisation of what is modern day Laos. More migrants later arrived at the village from Vietnam and China, which is reflected in the town's mix of architectural styles.

Due to its location, Chiang Khan became a busy trading hub and the now famous rows of wooden houses and Chai Kong Road, or what is today the walking street, were established.

The fishing community also prospered from the Mekong's rich resources. People on both sides of the border exchanged their culture and language similar to Luang Prabang in Laos and today still have relatives on the other side of the river.

But the trade stopped in 1975 when the communist Pathet Lao seized power from the Lao government and cut economic ties to its neighbours, including Thailand.

When the trade disappeared, the residents moved inland. Many of the riverfront houses and streets were left empty and Chiang Khan's heyday seemed to have come to an end.

But in the early 2000s, tourism arrived with many visitors charmed by the traditional buildings and unchanged way of life. Last year, little Chiang Khan welcomed 650,000 tourists, both local and international.

Guest houses and hotels have emerged, and are often fully booked during the high season in winter. Walking street is usually full of tourists, many wearing fashionable winter clothes and taking selfies, shopping for souvenirs like handmade bags, key rings and hand-woven fabrics. Fresh coffee and cheesecake are available at many cafes for hungry travellers.

In the evening, street performances line the street, ranging from guitar buskers and amateur dancers to mime artists.

"For sale" signs are placed in front of some guest houses, an indication savvy investors are driving the market. One two-storey wooden house on the riverside is priced at eight million baht.

SOME OLD WAYS REMAIN

But the history of the town and its people is in danger of being eclipsed by the rush for the tourist dollar.

One local told us, ironically, that "Bangkok people come to get Bangkok stuff. Chiang Khan is more than just walking street".

A stroll down the 20 sois that run-off walking street and chats with locals reveal that some of the old ways remain.

In the waters off Soi 1, the communal floating raft used by Bueak and his colleagues is moored. They use the area not only to moor their boats but as a meeting place to discuss work, socialise and rib each other.

There are similar floating rafts down the Mekong, but sadly the one at Chiang Khan reflects a fishing community in decline. A decade ago, more than 100 households depended on fishing for their livelihoods, but today they number around 40. Declining fish catches forced them to quit. Some blame upstream Chinese dams which have controlled the water flow and, they say, had a negative ecological impact.

Vachira Nantaprom, a middle-aged fisherman, is looking to the tourism boom to survive. He plays the guitar and his daughter sings for tips from tourists. The family also sells grilled pork on walking street to supplement their income.

But Mr Vachira is not alone, other fishermen are now working in slaughterhouses, construction sites and vegetable farms. Their children tell them they have no interest in working in the fishing business.

A couple of years ago, Bueak and his friends started an eco-river cruise. The cruise takes tourists on small fishing boats to observe nature and traditional fishing methods. Visitors can swim, picnic or camp on an island in the middle of Mekong, depending on the weather and water level.

But a lack of support for the venture has made the fishermen invisible despite the booming tourism.

PRESERVING IDENTITY

Near Soi 9, I met 70-year-old Ki Sae-Phu, the descendant of a Chinese merchant who settled in Chiang Khan more than a century ago.

He inherited Phu Teng Ki, a fishing gear shop located among the cafes and souvenir shops, from his father.

Mr Ki's fortunes have waned with those of the fishermen, but his son helps out by selling T-shirts at night in front of his shop.

"It was a good in the old days," he said. "The town was quiet. I don't like the town when it's bustling. It's changing, but that's the way it is."

The Chiang Khan Tambon Administration Office has encouraged the local community to preserve and restore the area's identity as much as possible while change is under way.

Community charters, a kind of local agreement, have been established to control a building's height, colour and architectural style to ensure they conform with "local tradition". Bars and nightclubs are prohibited on walking street.

Local women have formed a group to promote the tradition of "offering sticky rice to monks", which is marketed as a must-do activity in Chaing Khan. The tour operators may not highlight the fact the ritual is important to the local community, which has long been influenced by Buddhism.

Early every morning, monks from nine Buddhist temples around Chiang Khan make their way down walking street to receive food offerings.

Tourists can buy sets of sticky rice with water, snacks and flowers from locals and join in the ritual.

Thoy, a woman in her late forties, sells the offerings and owns a homestay. She is part of the women's group encouraging tourists and the younger generation to understand local Buddhist culture.

She invites Spectrum to join Buach Nak, a religious ritual for a young man entering the monkhood, in her neighbourhood two blocks away.

There, 50 local people, mostly elderly, bless a young man in white robes. He will change into an orange robe when he is in the temple after the ceremony.

Some monks are invited to chant for his goodness and family. Each guest offers sticky rice from their own bowls to the monks. Then a simple breakfast of sticky rice, chicken soup and fried vegetables is offered.

When Thoy is asked whether she would rather grow her homestay business or participate in religious ceremonies like the blessing of the monk she sees no conflict.

"It makes me feel content," she answers. "I want tourists to feel the same so they will come back. The culture is what makes Chiang Khan unique."

Maintaining the look: Chiang Khan's walking street, just metres from the Mekong River with Laos in the background, is subject to an agreement on building regulations to ensure that traditions are upheld. Paritta Wangkiat

Strike a pose: A young couple take a selfie on the bank of the Mekong River.

For the tourists: A souvenir shop sells T-shirts and bags emblazoned with Chiang Khan's name. Paritta Wangkiat

A set of food offering to monks comprise of stiky rice, water, snack and flower Tourism Pai Chiang Khan Paritta Wangkiat

Morning ritual: Tourists and locals offer sticky rice to monks. Above left, an offering comprises sticky rice, water, snacks and flowers. Paritta Wangkiat

Rustic backdrop: An old movie house used in the 2014 film 'Chiang Khan Story'. Paritta Wangkiat

Old-school sound: Locals play the 'ranad', a traditional Thai instrument, and drum in front of their walking street house to attract tourists. Paritta Wangkiat

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