Land & People

"This land of Sukhothai is thriving. There are fish in the water and rice in the fields. The lord of the realm does not levy toll on his subjects. They are free to lead their cattle or ride their horses and to engage in trade; whoever wants to trade in elephants, does so; whoever wants to trade in horses, does so; whoever wants to trade in silver or gold, does so."

— Stone inscription ascribed to King Ramkhamhaeng the Great, 1292

Water buffalo in a northern valley near Chiang Mai.

"One morning early, we crossed the bar, and while the sun was rising splendidly over the flat spaces of land we steamed up the innumerable bends, passed under the shadow of the great gilt pagoda, and reached the outskirts of the town.

"There it was, spread largely on both banks, the Oriental capital which has yet suffered no white conqueror; an expanse of brown houses of bamboo, of mats, of leaves, of a vegetable-matter style of architecture, sprung out of the brown soil on the banks of the muddy river."

Thus, in 1888, Joseph Conrad described his first impressions of Thailand, or Siam as he and the rest of the world knew it then. The average visitor today gets a very different introduction. Certainly it is far less romantic: there may be a brief glimpse of chequered rice fields far below, perhaps the flash of a temple spire if the light is right, then suddenly the mundane buildings of modern metropolitan Bangkok and the air-conditioned anonymity of an international airport, all within a brief space of time. The land itself, some 513,115 square kilometers of highly varied topography, as well as its diverse people, remain to be discovered. And what a discovery that is!

A rural floating market, where all kinds of goods are sold by vendor boats.

Begin with the north, a logical place since this is probably where the Thais themselves first entered their future homeland. Here, the borders of present-day Burma and Laos meet those of Thailand in a panorama of rolling mountains. Teak and other hardwood trees are indigenous to the region and have provided basic building materials for centuries. In the cool, clear air-temperatures can drop to nearly freezing in the winter months-exotic plants flourish well: nearly a thousand species of wild orchids, festooning the trees like rare jewels when they bloom in the hot season, and secret fields of opium poppy grown by tribal groups who have migrated into that area newspaper readers know as the Golden Triangle.

Elephants, too, roam the forest, once in numerous wild herds. Now nearly all have been domesticated, originally for work in the logging camps and more recently to carry tourists on adventurous rides through the jungle. So-called "white elephants"-actually albinos-have traditionally been regarded as emblems of royalty and divinity and any that turn up are, by law, the property of the king and the object of great reverence.

Important rivers rise in the northern mountains, snaking southward through broad valleys and eventually linking to form the great Chao Phraya. Early settlements were founded in these valleys or on the great Mekong, which flows along the Laotian border, among them Chiang Saen, Chiang Rai, Nan, Chiang Mai, and Lampang, all notable centers of power at one time or another. Even after more significant Thai states rose in the south, these northern principalities retained a remarkable degree of autonomy due to the difficulties of communication imposed by the rugged terrain. A railway line linking Bangkok and Chiang Mai was only opened in the late 1920s, and as recently as the 1960s tranquil little Mae Hong Son, nestling in the hills near Burma, was considered sufficiently remote to serve as a place of temporary exile for government officials in disgrace.

A typical Thai town street, culminating in a Buddhist monument This one is in Nakhon Pathom in central Thailand; it was originally built by Mons and later expanded by Thais.

Crops in a fertile river valley, one of countless similar ones throughout Thailand.

Though the river valleys of the north are fertile, supporting verdant fields of rice and fruit orchards, they were not really suitable for the development of a large-scale kingdom. In search of more space, the Thais, like other groups before them, were steadily drawn further into the great Chao Phraya river basin that lay just beyond the final chain of foothills like a fabled promised land.

Protected by mountains to the north and west and by the lofty Khorat Plateau to the east, the Central Plains region was part of the Gulf of Thailand millions of years ago. The rich soil of today was created by the steady accumulation of silt carried down every monsoon season by the highland rivers, at such a rate that the gulf shore continues to move southward by an estimated 5 meters a year. Dense forests covered the plains in prehistoric times. Today they are covered with a vast jigsaw puzzle of fields planted with rice and other crops, studded here and there with hamlets of simple houses, like islands in a sea of green. Down the middle, in great loops, winds the Chao Phraya. Though only 365 kilometers in length it is of huge importance since it provides steady supplies of both water and rich topsoil.

Rice planting in the Central Plains, the country's most productive region.

A traditional Thai house of the Central Plains type.

Vendor boats at a floating market, offering fruit, vegetables and spices.

A crowded scene at a market near Bangkok, where everything from fresh ingredients to a fast meal is available.

A fishing boat getting ready to set sail from one of the countless ports of the south.

Karon, one of the dozen or so scenic, white sand beaches along Phuket's coastline.

The remains of the Thai past are scattered throughout this region, along with those of earlier settlers like the Khmers and the Mons. Sukhothai, the first truly independent Thai capital, lies in the northernmost part; then further down Lopburi, which was inhabited by all three groups; and then Ayutthaya, the greatest of all, from which the kingdom was ruled for four centuries. All these and other lesser cities drew their sustenance from the dependable fields, as would Bangkok, located not far from where the Chao Phraya emptied into the Gulf of Thailand

Like Ayutthaya, early Bangkok was a riverine city-both were originally sited on artificial islands created by digging strategic canals-and drew its life from the Chao Phraya. Endless processions of teakwood barges brought-still bring, for that matter-essential foodstuffs from the countryside to the north; and from the Gulf other vessels like the one that carried Conrad brought different kinds of prosperity from another world beyond Only after the Second World War did the river cease to be a major factor in the capital's existence, though it continues to serve as a vital artery for the Central Plains as a whole.

An island offshore from Krabi. The Andaman Sea is dotted with hundreds of such islands; relatively few have been developed, but there are some hotels and guesthouses for that secret holiday of a lifetime.

View of the valley at Mae Hong Son, a remote Thai province near the Burmese border.

The northeast, or Isan as it is called by Thais, is a very different story. Beginning at the Khorat Plateau, a tableland that occupies a third of Thailand's total area, and extending to the Mekong, it was once forested and apparently fertile. Drastic changes followed, however, perhaps due to destructive agricultural practices, perhaps to major climatic changes. In any event, the northeast became the country's chronic problem area, plagued by both droughts and floods.

Some idea of what the northeast may once have been like can be had at Khao Yai, at the beginning of the plateau only 206 kilometers from Bangkok. Established as a national park in 1959, this is a cool area of wooded hills and grassy valleys that supports a large number of protected wild animals, among them deer, monkeys, elephants and even an occasional tiger. There are streams wandering through the forest, picturesque waterfalls and, in the distance, lofty mountains.

Elsewhere, though, except for some rich land along the Mekong, most of the northeast has sandy soil that yields poor crops and a rainy season more irregular than the rest of the country. Its people, many of them ethnic Lao and Khmer, often abandon the farms and try their luck in cities like Bangkok, where they form the majority of the lower-level work forces.

In recent years, the region has attracted increasing government interest, and there are signs of a brighter economic future. New highways have been built and large reservoirs are relieving the age-old water problems; the introduction of new crops and farming methods is helping, too, as is the revival of traditional handicrafts like silk-weaving and pottery.

One of the country's most rapidly developing areas lies along the east coast of the Gulf, stretching from the Chao Phraya estuary to Trat Province on the Cambodian border. Long hampered by lack of good roads, this sector has now been opened and because of its proximity to the capital has become an important center for both industry and tourism. Pattaya, once a little-known fishing village, has become an internationally known seaside resort with scores of luxury hotels stretching along the long beach.

Sattahip, further down the coast, is the main Thai naval base and also an important deep-sea port for commercial cargoes. Chanthaburi, the last province before Trat, is home to luxuriant plantations of coconuts, durians, rambutans and pepper, as well as gem mines from which the famous Thai rubies and sapphires are extracted.

A woman crosses a bridge in a characteristic view of rural Thailand.

An Akha village, nestled in the high mountains of the far north; half a dozen hill tribes live in such settlements along Thailand's borders.

Southern Thailand is a long peninsula, bordered by the Gulf of Thailand on one side and the Indian Ocean on the other. It consists of 14 provinces and reaches like a probing elephant's trunk down to Malaysia. In many ways the south is a different world from the rest of Thailand, with its own centers of culture that developed independently of those in the north. Nakhon Sri Thammarat, for example, was already a thriving capital when Sukhothai was established in the 13th century, while Phuket, on the Indian Ocean, was known as Junkceylon to ancient mariners who came to trade at its ports. In the southernmost provinces, the dome of a mosque is as common as the spire of a Buddhist temple, due to a sizeable Muslim population that is often of Malay extraction.

Moreover, the region has natural resources of its own that have brought a prosperity rivalled only by that of the Central Plains. Rubber trees thrive in its damp climate, to such an extent that Thailand is one of the world's largest producers of natural rubber. Tin has for centuries been the source of Phuket's wealth and remains today one of the country's important exports, though it is now obtained by offshore dredges. Steep limestone cliffs and caves are favored havens for the tiny swifts whose nests are a prized delicacy in Chinese restaurants located many thousands of miles away.

A sampling of the various tribes of the north. In the top row, on the left is a Yao (Mien), in the middle a Karen, and on the right a Shan boy. In the bottom row, on the left is an Akha, in the middle a Long-Neck woman from a Paduang village, and on the right a Lisu.

Members of the Lahu (Mushur) hill tribe in traditional dress.

Elephants at work; thousands of the animals were once employed in the teak forests of the north.

The scenic beauty of the south is legendary. Along its center rises a chain of jungle-covered mountains, extending all the way into Malaysia. In some places, prehistoric cataclysms caused the sea to rush into low-lying coastal areas and create bays out of which limestone peaks emerge dramatically. The best known of these is Phangnga, near Phuket, where literally hundreds of outcroppings rise sheer from the water, many with fantastic stalagtite-hung caves and others with hidden crescents of pure white-sand beach.

Sun-drenched seashores and humid jungle, cities both ancient and resoundingly modern, miles of rice fields stretching to distant horizons and mist-enshrouded mountain peaks: these are the backgrounds against which the drama of Thailand's history has been enacted and which continue to shape the developments of today.

A gathering of Lisu tribal people; their costumes and traditions have remained unchanged for centuries.