“Can you see KL?” a Thai journalist shouts out as a Malaysian travel writer takes to the skies on a giant wooden swing by the edge of a cliff.
Of course, he was just ribbing as there was no way one could see Kuala Lumpur from there, unless one had superpowers.
After all, we are on the hilly terrains of Doi Pha Mee (which literally translates as “Bear Mountain”) in the Mae Sai district of Chiang Rai, Thailand. KL is about 2,000km away.
It is my turn now. Two village men hoist the swing up and pull back as far as they can. My feet begin to lift off the ground and then, without any warning, the men let go.
The sensation of the cold wind as I swing upwards and forwards, towards the majestic view of the highlands, is pure euphoria. The scenery beyond is one of clear blue skies meeting emerald-green slopes. On the horizon, Thailand’s northern-most city comes into view.
PEOPLE OF THE HILL
The Akha Swing, named after the Akha hill tribe that calls Doi Pha Mee home, is more than just a thrill-seeking instrument. It forms the basis of one of Thailand’s most interesting cultural rituals – the Akha Swing Festival.
Held during the rainy month of August, the festival brings together the community in celebration of the harvest season. It is also a time for women in the tribe to look for prospective husbands, says our guide Patomporn Pongnin.
“Men show off how strong they are by swinging as hard as they can. The higher the men swing, the better they are as husbands,” says Ms Patomporn amid giggles from some Akha women present at the tour.
During the festival, Akha women are decked in elaborate ornaments and colourful indigenous clothes that they have made.
Ms Patomporn – or Bow as she is affectionately known – works with Local Alike, a Bangkok-based social enterprise that helps rural communities develop community-based tourism in their respective villages.
This tourism initiative in Doi Pha Mee, which took off in October last year, is something that the villagers are excited to participate in.
In fact, our entourage – comprising participants of the Asean Travel Journo Camp, which is initiated by the Thai Journalists Association and supported by AirAsia – is the first batch of media members to visit the settlement.
For long-time resident Mint Phugsaphantawee, tourist arrivals allow the village to shake off the misconception that comes with the proximity to its border with Myanmar.
“People have this perception that since the village is near the border, it is not safe. But that’s not true. We want to let people know it is safe to visit our village. Please come join us and experience our way of life,” she says.
It is a sincere invitation as, on arrival, we are greeted by bright smiles and a genuine attempt by the villagers to make all guests feel at home.
The folks here are really keen to show off their lifestyle. This is most evident when we make a stop at a workshop to observe the locals weave cloth and make traditional rice cakes.
Here at the little shack, elderly women smile shyly as they show us how to make cotton thread and pound the ingredients for rice cakes.
ROYAL LEGACY
But if there is one thing the folks of Doi Pha Mee love to share more than their way of life, it would be the story of the late King Bhumibol Adulyadej’s visit to the village in January 1970. The king died in October 2016, with Thailand currently observing a one-year mourning period.
Community leader Chanyuth Rungtaweepittayakul recounts how the village used to be a hub for opium cultivation in the late 1960s.
“All that changed when the king visited and brought with him lychee and coffee to grow,” says the man who is referred to as por luang (village head) by the villagers. He adds that many residents wanted to flee from the village back then because it was not safe due to its proximity to the border.
But the monarch managed to convince the villagers to stay and to start planting coffee.
“We have been growing coffee here for almost 50 years now,” the village head says proudly. Today, that legacy stands tall in the form of a two-storey coffee house made of natural materials such as bamboo and attap leaves.
Visitors will find an array of beverages: espresso, latte, cappuccino, mocha and the home-grown brew – Doi Pha Mee coffee.
I opt for an iced variation of the local brew, with a dash of coconut. One sip of the aromatic beverage and I am thankful the villagers heeded the late king’s advice.
VILLAGE BY THE SEA
Another commendable community-based tourism initiative in Thailand is in Krabi province. Located about five minutes by boat from the tourist-packed Krabi town, Koh Klang (or Klang Island) is an idyllic fishing village.
Unlike the relatively new tourism efforts in Doi Pha Mee, the residents here have been practising this form of tourism for more than 10 years. But do not expect this fishing village to be a polished getaway.
Stepping out of a traditionally made long-tailed boat, I am greeted by a rustic-looking floating restaurant. You will not find resorts, massages or beach-side activities here.
What is on offer in this Muslim community, though, are charming homes, pristine mangroves and an abundance of warm hospitality.
Before we venture further into the village, local guide Sopha Kohklang lays out a few ground rules.
“Since it’s a Muslim village, there are three rules we observe: no pork, no dogs and you must be dressed modestly,” she says.
The village is populated mainly by Muslim families, so Islam is at the centre of local life here. Daily prayers and Islamic festivals are observed devoutly.
According to Sopha, most visitors usually come to the village to enjoy seafood for lunch. While the amazing fresh catch of the day makes for a quick foodie trip, an overnight stay will reveal more of the community’s charm.
And what better way to be acquainted with the locals than to stay in their homes?
Our homestay accommodation Kidthung Cottage, is run by Paramatta Chuykarn and his wife, Suthida Prapertchob.
You can opt to listen to the romantic story of how the husband and wife met or get down and dirty in the vast padi fields here.
The village is open to travellers all year round, but August is the best time to visit as it is the rice-planting season. The rice is harvested in December to coincide with the birth month of the late king.
Getting into the muddy waters to plant the seedlings is the highlight of my trip. With my knees deep in the padi fields and under supervision from the resident farmers, the scene really does not get more local than this.
