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Distant yes, but not aloof Ban Klong Rua is an amazing place. The remote jungle village in Chumphon is without electricity and virtually every other basic infrastructure, but the simple lifestyle of villagers and their beautiful nature were a fitting diversion for a city slick like myself. Thousands of stars glittered above the thatched roof of my bamboo hut in the middle of a fish pond as I peered into the night from my bed wrapped in a blanket. The music, croaking of frogs and noises made by nocturnal insects, filled the air. There were no fences, gates, or security staff, but I did not feel insecure. There were only kind villagers around me. Fresh air and easy surroundings ensured a restful night. "It used to be a chicken coop until I turned it into a guesthouse a few years ago," Manit Molee, its owner disclosed, as his daughter, Noon or Areya Molee, 8, clung to him. Her pupils dilated as she tried to size me up as I stood next to her father. "She plays like boys, climbs tree, swims and goes exploring the surroundings on her own. She gives me all sorts of headache," Manit said. That was fine, I thought. Noon was luckier that kids in the cities. She could roam the orchards freely or walk around the village without having to worry about being abused or harassed by some maniac on the loose. "There are no thieves, no crime and no drugs here. I leave the ignition key plugged to my motorcycle all the time; it has never gone missing," Manit asserted. Ban Klong Rua is an 84-household community in the jungle district of Phato in Chumphon Province, the last village on a forest road and so remote that even mobile phone signals cannot reach there. It has no electricity, the only source of power being the solar cell, and very few visitors. It all began in 1975 when two families settled in a valley next to a stream that was believed to be rich in tin ores. The news spread like wild fire and others followed suit. Fearing widespread encroachment and environmental damage, the local forest protection unit stepped in in 1997, banned mining, and set guidelines whereby villagers could live in harmony with the forest, as well as act as its guardians. Since then, the villagers have made their living planting rubber trees and coffee. However, for a couple of years now they have also been offering homestay tourism to supplement their meagre income as rubber and coffee didn't fetch attractive prices. "That is Pak Kud, those are bamboo shoots, and over there are wild banana and other vegetables," said Chairat Wankaeo, pointing to the plants. He is assistant to the village headman. Herbal cuisine is Ban Klong Rua's signature menu where the essence is organic food, fresh air, and clean natural surroundings. My first meal was simple - fresh vegetables boiled or deep fried served with chili paste, delicious, and I finished it in next to no time. All ingredients used in cooking were grown in the village, while some were sourced from the forest. Plunging commodity prices drove the villagers to rotate crops and switch from single crops to integrated farming, which has proved a more self-sustaining alternative. They learned that different kinds of plants can share space and nutrition from the ground. That is why on the same plot we can see nitta trees rising over others, smaller fruit trees in the middle, and vegetables growing on the ground. To raise productivity of their land, the villagers don't use chemicals but natural home-made fertiliser stored in a common 50,000-litre tank and fed to orchards and farms by a network of pipes, a concept that has proved highly successful in Ban Klong Rua and ensured a healthy supply of chemical-free vegetables and fruits. Some city dwellers might find this remote village a complete nightmare. There are no luxuries. The road connecting the village is in shambles; there are not enough doctors, teachers or any educational material for children. A sole solar-cell electricity generator helps illuminate households a few hours every day. But the lack of these basic amenities has not dampened the spirit of its residents. I sat at the village pavilion and watched villagers go about their daily chores. Early morning, monks roamed the village at leisurely pace without having to worry about being knocked by a passing car; housewives chatted in animated tones picking vegetables in the gardens, while kids played in open fields. Late afternoon men returned from their farms and headed to a football field, while elderly men on evening walk carried young ones their backs, trading smiles when crossing paths, and some of them occasionally flashed one to me. The charm of Ban Klong Rua lies in the freedom its residents enjoy in expressing themselves, and the security cover provided by the wilderness surrounding it that serves as a natural buffer against outsiders. In the absence of basic infrastructure, villagers have learned to cooperate and rely on each other which has forged a strong sense of bonding within the community. This attitude, and peaceful co-existence with nature has paid off handsomely, and these days the lush forest and its streams are not only a source of herbs and food for villagers, but also an attraction for tourists. "Do you want to see giant Bua Phud flowers?" asked my guide invitingly. Bua Phud (Rafflesia kerrii) is a parasite that grows on wild grapes of the Tetrastigma family. It is found only in lush jungles. I was surprised to learn that Ban Klong Rua had such plants in its midst, an indicator of the forest's fertility. We trekked a few kilometres through dense jungle. The canopy of trees rose high as if competing for light, while on the damp forest floor grew mushroom and fungi, and leeches were everywhere. After crossing streams a few times, we arrived at a point where Bua Phud flowers measuring over 30 centimetres in diameter were in bloom. When fully grown they can measure up to 90 centimetres. We also spotted buds the size of a coconut fruit. The flower, although large and bright red, didn't smell all that good but to admire it we had to trek deep into a part of the forest where our every step was accompanied by leeches that too thrived under the conditions. They clung to my feet every time I stopped to take a picture. I had a hard time pulling them out. Not far from village school ran a crystal clear stream where rafts made from bamboo were waiting to take us on a scenic excursion through the lush forest, past coconut orchards and rubber plantations. I could see that the crew manning the rafts were not seasoned hands, but they tried their best to keep us entertained, skilfully manoeuvring the rafts past rocks, thorny bushes and other obstacles that came in the way. Occasionally we stopped to sample freshly brewed coffee and coconut fruit. It was easy rafting that ended at a point the stream plunged 10 metres forming a waterfall called Plu Nang, drenching rocks and trees on which grew thick moss and ferns. It was a sight to behold and I began envying the villagers who, although devoid of basic comforts and modern amenities, had everything that nourishes the mind and human spirit: fresh air, chemical-free food, great nature, and a harmonious community that drew from the strength of its constituents. And with that ended my visit to Ban Klang Rua. I left the village to catch a train at Lang Suan station for the ride back to Bangkok. The train was two hours late. To kill time, I stretched out on a bench on the dimly lit platform and that's when my peace was shattered by the roar of motorcycle engines - a gang of shabbily dressed drunks were occupying a corner of the station. It reminded me of the nuisance night riders usually create on the well-paved streets of Bangkok on weekends. Just like the bikers in the city, I found this lot disgusting, and I had the itch to return to the embrace of forest. More INFO Ban Rua Klang offers a three days/two nights package priced 2,500 baht for groups of six persons or more and includes accommodation, meals, and guide fee. Visitors are advised to carry their own torch, trekking shoes and insect repellant. For more information, visit http://www.klongrua.com , or call Mr Chaiporn at 086-563-9117 |