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dam-l LS: Bangkok Post on Pak Mun
Bangkok Post Outlook May 2, 2000
True Lies?
The Pak Moon Dam seems to evoke different images to different people,
depending on where they stand.
On one side of the concrete structure is plenty of water, but very scant
sign of marine life. On the other side, the level of water is drastically
low, but from time to time one can spot people fishing even though the
catch often turns out to be barely enough for a simple meal.
The stark differences also apply to debate between the two camps.
The Thai authorities and the World Bank, the main source of funding for the
project, have hailed the Pak Moon dam as a big success.
- ortheastern villagers, however, have long held grudges against the
project, which they say has destroyed the ecology of the Moon river as well
as the locals' age-old way of life.
The World Commission on Dams, an independent international organisation set
up to address controversial issues surrounding large dams, recently
released a summary of its evaluation of the Pak Moon Dam project. Here are
the commission's main findings.
- COST OF THE PROJECT
>From the original $135 million (5.13 billion baht) plus $11 million (418
million baht) for environmental and social mitigation, the budget
eventually ballooned to $233 million (8.85 billion baht) and $32 million
(1.22 billion baht) for mitigation programmes.
- POWER BENEFITS
The 136 Megawatt target has not been realised. The WCD found the actual
output to be about 40 MW for April and May, during which both demand and
capacity for power are at their highest.
The WCD estimated the dam's economic return, called its Economic Internal
Rate of Return (EIRR), to be about 4 to 5 percent, well below the original
estimate of 12 percent.
- FISHERIES
The WCD estimates the dam has caused the loss of 60 to 80 percent of the
fish in the reservoir and the river upstream of the dam. Of 265 species
found in the Moon river before 1994, the WCD counted only 96 species
upstream of the dam.
The dam advocates originally predicted its reservoir area would produce 100
kilogrammes per hectare per year of fish without stocking, or 220
kg/ha/year in conjunction with a stocking programme.
In contrast, the actual fish yield is about 10 kg/ha/year. In the reservoir
itself, yields are slightly better, ranging from 19 to 38 kg/ha/year.
- DISPLACEMENT
The original plan claimed that only 241 households in 11 villages would be
affected. Altogether, however, 1,700 families have lost their house, land,
or both. These households also claimed compensation for lost fishing income
due to the dam's unexpected impact on local fisheries.
- IRRIGATION BENEFITS
Egat projected the Pak Moon dam would provide irrigation services to a
total area of 25,900 hectares, but the WCD found that so far, these claims
have not been fulfilled. - NATURAL RAPIDS
More than 50 natural rapids, in which fish spawn, have been permanently
submerged due to the construction of the dam.
- VEGETATION
The commission found that the dam led to the loss of river bank vegetation
as well as natural and community forests. At least 40 edible plants, 10
bamboo species, and 45 species of mushroom have been wiped out.
___________________
Fishing for power
The losses brought on by the Pak Moon Dam are more universal and less
tangible than they appear
Vasana Chinvarakorn, Bangkok Post Outlook, May 2, 2000
Were the Pak Moon Dam to continue its existence, subsequent generations of
Northeastern villagers may grow up with a tale like this one:
Once upon a time, an executive from the World Bank decided to check out the
Pak Moon Dam-a multi-billion-baht project that materialised thanks to his
organisation's loan programmes.
Stepping out of his air-conditioned car, the visitor was greeted by an
anxious crowd of Isan villagers. Facing the majestic blocks of concrete
that span the Moon River, he took a closer look at the famous fish ladder,
touted to bring a year-round supply of fish to the villagers' doorsteps.
The World Bank official managed to climb the steep ladder with little
sweat. There, he may have seen that very few fish would be able to swim up
and across such a huge structure, unlike the image in advertisements for
the project.
Seeing the incident an opportune moment to tell the World Bank
representative of their woes, the Pak Moon folks asked him what he
personally thought of the efficacy of the ladder. But the executive was not
the kind of man to be caught off guard for long. After a brief pause, he
came back with a shrewd reply: "I'm sorry I can't make any comments. I'm a
vegetarian."
A funny twist ending-but the story is, unfortunately, no fairy tale. The
episode did take place not so long ago, and the Northeastern villagers
continue their protest against the Pak Moon Dam.
In fact, the World Bank official's answer reflects the indifference of
society at large to the plight of villagers affected by the dam. It
suggests why their decade-long protests have so far yielded little success
in drawing the public's sympathy, let alone understanding.
The mainstream perception is that the only victims are Ubon Ratchathani's
rural people. For city dwellers, the Pak Moon Dam seems to bring in only
positive results, or so it is believed.
And why shouldn't it be? Without the hydroelectric power generated by the
dam, could urbanites continue to enjoy round-the-clock TV programmes as
they do?
Indeed, the list of benefits seems endless-air-conditioned shopping malls,
24-hour convenience stores, and entertainment complexes. To adapt
Jawaharlal Nehru's much-cited statement, dams have emerged as the "Temples
of Modern Thailand".
Moreover, the Pak Moon Dam, the country's first run-of-river type, was
designed to minimise impact on the environment, and authorities have long
argued that hydroelectricity is the least polluting means of generating power.
Upon closer scrutiny, however, one discovers that the list of merits is not
that long, and the prices are unusually high.
The construction alone cost $233 million (8.85 billion baht at the current
exchange rate). Add to that another $32 million (1.22 billion baht) for
compensating the thousands of people uprooted by the dam, and the limited
amount of time it can sustain its peak output of 136 megawatts (MW), and
the project begins to pale.
According to the World Commission on Dams, the real April and May output of
Pak Moon was around 40 MW, far short of the 136 MW target (see graphic on
the left). The commission recently issued a report that concluded: "It is
unlikely the project would have been built if actual benefits had been used
in the economic analyses." What about other losses that cannot be measured
in numbers?
It is an irony of modern times: While fish dishes are gaining popularity
among health-conscious urbanites, fish themselves are becoming more and
more scarce in natural waterways.
Such scenarios have become a fact of life along the 700-kilometre-long Moon
River, once the bloodline that fed the entire lower Isan region. The
construction of the Pak Moon Dam has blocked the migration route of fish
from the Mekong River into the Moon-Chi watershed, sealing off a catchment
area three times the size of the Netherlands.
A saunter through the fresh markets of Ubon Ratchathani today reveals the
dramatic changes the dam has brought to the local economy.
There are no more scenes of buckets brimming with giant fish caught from
the Moon. A large number of stalls now sell mostly imports from the Mekong
or farm-raised fish supplied by well-to-do operators.
Gone are the thepo (black-eared catfish), sawai (striped catfish), krabane
(freshwater stingray)-formerly the pride of the Moon. In their place is a
small repertoire of mass-produced fish from large-scale farms: pla duk
(catfish), pla nil (Nile tilapia), tapian khao (common silver barb), and
yisok thet (rohu).
A few years ago, Sanom Harnthonglarng switched to selling farmed fish. The
farms, she explained, require huge investments that most villagers cannot
afford. Moreover, the operators have to rely on fry and feed from
agro-conglomerates, who also act as the main distributors.
"The raised fish have rounder heads than naturally caught ones," Mrs Sanom
observed.
"We used to sell a variety of fish. Now I feel like an employee of Charoen
Phokpand (the agro-conglomerate). The profit margin is small-every
kilogramme brings me a profit of five baht-so I have to sell in mass
volume."Tawee Sa-ngaddong, a fisherman and vendor, said since the
construction began, his catch has become noticeably smaller, both in terms
of the number and the size of fish.
At a bigger stall a stone's throw away, vendor Boonma Sutthikul said she
supplies seafood restaurants in Ubon with giant pla buek from the Mekong.
Fish from the Moon River, Mrs Boonma added, are no longer big enough to
please her customers.
"You can't even make a decent pla rad prik (fish with chilli sauce) with
the catch from the Moon. They are too small.
"Every day I have to go to Khong Chiam district to buy the Mekong fish from
Laotian people. The whole pla buek costs 110 baht a kilogramme, but if both
the head and tail are removed, the price rises to 200 baht," said the
middle-aged fishmonger.
Such low regard for the Moon River's fish would have been unthinkable in
the old days. For fishery veterans like Sompong Wiangjand, catching fish
weighing from six to 50 kilogrammes was not uncommon. Other villagers
recalled the joy of munching on roasted fish roe the size of a man's arm.
But to Phorn Sawangjai, a 42-year-old villager of Ban Ta Phae, those
glorious descriptions sound more like a joke. One night, Mrs Phorn managed
to catch only two small fish between midnight and the following morning.
Together they earned her 15 baht.
"I just have to make do with this amount of money. At least it's better
than nothing," she said, looking tired.
Mrs Sompong added that the situation is much worse upstream. Villagers
there have to gulp down their bitterness when buying fish they used to be
able to catch themselves.
The World Commission on Dams found a drastic 60 to 80 percent decline in
the Moon's fish yield since 1994, when the dam was finished. Of the 265
species found in the river's watershed area, 169 had disappeared.
"The government accuses us of overfishing," Mrs Sompong lamented. "They say
even if the dam was not built, the Moon would have been depleted anyway.
But that shows their complete ignorance.
"We've never quarrelled over who's entering whose turf. The Moon's
topography and the villagers' customs were such that nobody would be able
to monopolise the resources," the seasoned fisherwoman explained.
On the other hand, modern fishery technologies, applied on farms, seem to
encourage monopolistic businesses. Social activist Akkanit Pongphai raised
concerns that small-scale fisherfolk are increasingly being excluded from
the field. Artificial breeding may alleviate the burden on scarce natural
resources, but under improper care, crowded fish farms may inadvertently
contribute to the pollution of waterways, Mr Akkanit added.
Fish expert Dr Chavalit Wittayanont, of the Department of Fisheries,
mentioned that exports of raised fish have occasionally been rejected on
suspicion of being contaminated.
He admitted that research on the health impact of raised fish is not
available. However, the business itself is very competitive, Dr Chavalit
said. Daily operating costs are high, and yet there is very little
guarantee of returns.
"I'm wondering who actually benefits from the Department of Fisheries'
promotion of fish raising-the villagers, or the fry-and-feed suppliers," Mr
Akkanit said.
Thongcharoen Sihatham can recite the names of hundreds of fish species
right off the top of his head. Now, however, his knowledge lies useless,
gathering dust as thick as that forming on his fishing gear.
Swept away with the fish are also the yarns villagers used to tell their
children about their generous "mother"-the Mae Moon River.
One such tale described how a seasoned fisherman offered his catch to the
king, and was rewarded with loads of jewels. Another was about an orphan
boy whose compassion for the fish led him to discover a great treasure.
But today, Mae Moon has gone barren, her hands almost empty. Even the
name-originally meaning "heritage of abundance"-has been referred to in
official documents (for no apparent reason) as "Mool", a word for waste.
Perhaps the story of that World Bank vegetarian describes how the times
have changed for the Moon River.
_______________________
The dark side of development
The case of villagers displaced by the Pak Moon Dam demonstrates that
poverty is often imposed by unequal development strategies that rob rural
people of the resources they once depended on for their livelihood
Atiya Achakulwisut, Bangkok Post Outlook, May 2, 2000
A mass of dark clouds hung low over the spot where the Moon River flows
into the Mekong. At this confluence of the two rivers, the decade-old
suffering of people whose livelihood has been ruined by the nearby towering
Pak Moon Dam condensed and poured out like a torrential rain.
"We became poor because of oppression by the rich. They squeezed the best
from our resources, leaving waste in their wake for us to tend to," said
Prasit Bua-ngam, a villager from Tarn Sum district, Ubon Ratchathani province.
The man's bitterness echoed that of the few thousand villagers displaced by
dams in the Northeast who were gathered at the Mae Moon Man Yuen
(Long-lasting Moon River) protest camp/village near the dam in Khong Chiam
district, Ubon Ratchathani.
They've been there for more than one year.
Conceived in the 1980s, the Pak Moon hydroelectric dam has faced strong
resistance from the very start. Villagers complained that having the dam
sprawled across the mouth of the Moon River would block the migration route
of fish, preventing them from swimming from the Mekong to the Moon to breed.
The dam's construction also required dynamiting around rapids to expedite
the outflow of water released from the dam. The rocks were once shelters
and breeding grounds for fish. Without them, the villagers cautioned, the
fish stock would decline.
All the villagers' predictions came frighteningly true.
The completion of the dam in 1994 brought an end to the once-flourishing
life of fishermen along the banks of the river. With their farmlands
flooded and no fish to catch, dam-displaced villagers simply lost their
livelihood, becoming not only poor but helpless.
Fed up by years of protests and negotiations, the villagers made it clear
they did not want any compensation in terms of money. What they
want-need-is for authorities to return their livelihood-the ability to tap
into their natural resources and to lead the life they did before the river
was dammed.
Consequently, the villagers are demanding that the Electricity Generating
Authority of Thailand (Egat) open the dam's gates and let the river run
free once more.
Sulak Sivaraksa, outspoken social critic, pointed out that the case of the
Pak Moon Dam was an example of how the state's development strategies that
favour affluence over self-sufficiency impose poverty on rural people.
"People used to be happy here. The Moon River was the source of their life,
providing them with water and fish. Pak Moon Dam was built to generate
electricity so that city people could lead a more luxurious life. No one
cared that it destroyed the river and the livelihood of people who lived
there," he said, adding that some villagers who were uprooted to make way
for the Sirindhorn Dam, also in Ubon Ratchathani, ended up becoming street
sweepers in Bangkok.
Mr Sulak was speaking as a panellist at a discussion, which was part of a
two-day seminar to deliberate possible solutions for the poor in Thai
society, held recently at the Mae Moon Mun Yuen village.
Respected scholar Prof Saneh Chamarik added that there were poor people in
every period of time. The difference was, in the past, people became poor
due to individual traits. At present, poverty was brought on by unjust
structures in society.
What are these "structures"?
The respected scholar Prof Prawase Wasi explained that fundamentally Thai
society despises the poor.
"The social perception (of poverty) is one elementary structure. Thai
people have been ingrained with the false belief that poverty is a result
of bad karma in previous lives, which they can redeem by doing good things
and sacrificing for other people. The social fibre has been used by the
elite to justify their taking advantage of the poor," Prof Prawase said.
The academics agreed that in order to liberate themselves from the iron
grip of the urban-biased structures, the poor have to organise and build an
alliance not only with those who share similar problems but also with
people from other social strata such as members of the middle class.
Acharn Naruemol Thapjumphol, from Chulalongkorn University, noted that
since poverty was a politically constructed problem, brought on by public
policies, it must be solved by political means.
"We can't tackle just state-level mechanisms, but also transnational
institutions which exert a lot of influence over national policies," he said.
A vertical alliance between villagers, academics and members of the media
must be forged. Together, they can create a new set of knowledge based on
people's real lives, which can be used to counter the often distorted
information that the state resorts to in order to uphold its policies.
"The fight to better the plight of the poor is not just one against the
state, but a struggle to win over the sympathy of a majority of people,"
Prof Prawase said.
He also urged the government to stage a dialogue with the villagers.
"The government must send people who have the power to make decisions.
Also, the dialogue must be held with both sides on an equal footing.
Academics must assist villagers in terms of information, too."Prof Nithi
Eawsiwong, a founding member of Midnight University, an attempt by a group
of intelligentsia to initiate alternative education, added that the poor
may have to resort to alternative media to focus awareness on their plight.
"It is increasingly difficult for the poor to access mainstream media
outlets, which have to survive under the rules of capitalism. Villagers may
have to maximise the use of alternative media, both folk ones such as Mor
Lam (folk music) and international ones such as the Internet.
"Since our leaders tend to pay more attention to international voices, the
Net would be a great means to influence local policy," Prof Nithi said.
Prof Saneh called for land reform as a more concrete method of solving
problems for the poor.
To work, the reform must constitute not only a comprehensive and fair
redistribution of land, but also a return of vernacular space for the poor
to lead a community-based, self-sufficient life. "We can't wait for a Sor
Por Kor 401-type land reform to be imposed on us by the Ministry of
Agriculture," Prof Saneh said, referring to the scandal-rife attempt at
land redistribution in the past.
"What the poor need to do is push for redistribution of land so that it can
be a basis to rebuild local economies and cultures. We have to participate
in the process of redistribution and have a clear plan of what we want to
do with the land." Prof Saneh added that the reform would be meaningless if
villagers only used it to continue chemical-intensive monoculture, or to
merely sell the land for money. Mr Sulak noted that the villagers affected
by the dam now gathered at Mae Moon Man Yuen was a symbol of a strong civil
society taking shape.
A shift towards strengthening the people's power is already evident on the
grassroots level, he said.
"It is not only here at Pak Moon that people are calling for their rights
and a return of their livelihood, but also in Kud Chum, where people agreed
to use their own local currency. Even members of the middle class in
Kanchanaburi came out to protest the Yadana Gas Pipeline Project, which
they believe would have an adverse impact on the environment." It is the
ruling elite that fails to realise the failure of mainstream development
direction, he said.
Acharn Kasian Techapira from Thammasat University shares Mr Sulak's view.
Fishermen at Pak Moon, he noted, knew more than 100 types of fish by heart.
That knowledge-their intellectual and social capital- was destroyed
together with their natural resource base when the Pak Moon Dam blocked the
flow of their river.
"Their knowledge about fish is useless now because there are no fish left
to catch," Acharn Kasian said. "The dam robbed them of resources, not only
those of the villagers but also those of the country. It brought poverty on
villagers who were once independent in a self-sufficient
lifestyle."Ironically, he added, rural Thai people became poor because of
the government's misguided attempt to develop them.
_________________________
Mother Nature
Activism: Mothers are palying a leading role in Thai grassroots movements
to save the environment for the younger genaration.
Sompong Waiengjand is a goo example. She has risked her life in the Pak
Moon dam controvesy. And the story is far from over.
Story And Pictures:Sanitsuda Ekachai, Bangkok Post Outlook, May 3, 2000
Sompong Wiangjand's wish is very simple: She wants to return the Moon River
to her children. But the mother's journey in fulfilling that simple wish
has been fraught with obstacles.
Twelve years have passed since the first day she heard that the Electricity
Generating Authority of Thailand (Egat) was planning to construct the Pak
Moon Dam at the confluence of the Mekong and the Moon rivers in Ubon
Ratchathani province.
Life along the river has been turned upside down ever since.
The dam now towers across the Moon River, cutting its past from its
present. In between, the long and unrelenting protests against the dam have
turned what initially started off as a disorganised peasants' resistance
into one of the country's strongest grassroots movements.
The struggle has also turned Mrs Sompong, a mother of four, into one of
Thailand's most outspoken female grassroots leaders.
"Give us back our river," she declared. "The dam must go."Mrs Sompong, 48,
has steely eyes and a strong voice that match her determination. Her
electrifying speeches have never failed to lift the Pak Moon crowd's
spirits when they were down. Such charisma gives the small, plump woman a
larger-than-life aspect. But it is her time-tested commitment and integrity
that has won her the widest respect.
Her courage has become a legend in the Pak Moon struggle.
When Egat refused to talk to the villagers and started to blast away the
rapids which are fish-spawning habitats along the Moon River, the
womenfolk, led by Mrs Sompong, decided to risk their lives to stop the
destruction.
To do so, some 100 mothers seized the blasting site. Some formed a human
chain around the digging machines while others put their pasin (sarongs) on
the explosives and laid down on top of them, refusing to move.
"I didn't have any fear. I only thought that if the bombs exploded, then
the children of Pak Moon would benefit from our deaths," she recalled.
The siege went on for two days before Egat agreed to hold compensation
talks with the villagers.
"If not for us women, the Pak Moon negotiation process would never have
begun," she said.
"Women have had an important role in our movement right from the
start."Like other Pak Moon fisherfolk, Mrs Sompong sees her life divided
into two starkly different periods: life before and life after the dam.
"I was born by the river. Our house was by the river. I was the eldest
daughter and my father, a seasoned fisherman, taught me all the tricks of
his trade," she recounted, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
Those were days of peace. The Moon River winds along rocky banks that are
the villagers' homes. Though there are little rice-growing fields in the
area, the Moon River-thanks to fish migration from the Mekong River and the
rapids which serve as natural fish habitats-gave the villagers abundant
fish all year round, more than enough to barter for rice and other basic
necessities.
Apart from being the villagers' main mode of transport, the river, blessed
with scenic rapids and forests along the banks, was also the source of
their recreation.
"Mae Moon was our life," Mrs Sompong said, calling the river by its name in
the Isan dialect. Mae means mother.
Back then, children, both boys and girls, learned how to fish and to make
different kinds of fishing gear from the time they were very young. Mrs
Sompong herself started when she was only seven years old. As her mother
was frail, she became her father's fishing mate. A seasoned fisherwoman in
her own right, the young Sompong knew the rhythms of the river and the
nature of different fish like the backs of her own hands.
At only 13, she became a fish vendor, which deepened the teenager's self
confidence.
"My father was a just man. When fish vendors cheated us with faulty scales,
he told me to buy fish from our neighbours and sell them to the market
myself. We had a lot of customers because of our honesty."When her father
died, Mrs Sompong, then only 14, became the leader of the family,
supporting her mother and younger siblings through fishing and fish trading.
Customs forced her to marry early. "The puyai arranged it. My mother was a
widow, and I was so young. It was easy for women in this situation to be
taken advantage of. We needed a man in the house to protect us," she recalled.
She mused, though, that it was she who taught her husband how to fish and
make fishing gear, "though he became better than I was later on."Like other
Pak Moon couples, the husband and wife took turns catching fish day and
night. In summer, when the water receded, they helped each other by growing
vegetables on the riverbank, giving away the surplus to neighbours who gave
their own in return.
Her fish business, meanwhile, enabled the family to buy ricefields and
build a bigger house. As a mother, she did what her father had done,
teaching her children the art of fishing. When they were big enough, she
gave them each a boat, so that they could learn to earn a living independently.
It was the way of the Moon villagers, she said. She truly believed that her
children and grandchildren would continue what she and her ancestors had
done till the end of time.
Then the dam came.
"We never knew about it. We only learned about it when officials came into
the villages to measure flooding levels. They told us we would be
compensated only for our house and flooded areas. Nothing more.
"They told us that the dam would not be built until everyone was
compensated, that the dam would not affect fish abundance in the river, and
that the dam would help us grow rice three times a year! But we saw how the
villagers displaced by the Sirindhorn Dam suffered before us, so we weren't
that gullible."Common sense also told her that the dam promises were plain
lies.
The rocky topography made irrigation claims impossible. And it was certain
that the huge dam, which would obstruct fish migration, would certainly
affect the majority of the villagers who depended on fishery for their
livelihood.
Furthermore, the number of those who would be affected was not accurate.
The villagers complained that the dam overlooked the impact on fishery and
the compensation scheme did not take into account the villagers' loss of
livelihood. But Egat refused to take heed.
That was why Mrs Sompong, along with other Pak Moon mothers, joined the
resistance.
"I started off in the kitchen. When we villagers gathered to discuss things
among ourselves or to stage a protest, I cooked for them. I never thought I
would become a leader myself."Her role changed one day when a male speaker
was absent during a protest in front of Government House. "I was trembling.
I was afraid to speak into the microphone. But I had to do it."The crowd,
however, was impressed by her outspokenness. She was later elected to
represent the affected, first in her own district and then for all Pak Moon
villagers.
A woman's path to leadership is never easy, however. For Mrs Sompong, her
biggest obstacle was prejudice.
"In our village culture, women were not supposed to step out. Those who did
not stay home were labelled man-hunters," she said.
The Pak Moon struggle often took Mrs Sompong away from home for extended
periods of time. Hence rumours abounded about supposed infidelity, which
hurt her deeply.
"But I was clean. So I let time prove myself to others," she said. "If
you're a leader, you must be patient and calm. You must be able to
withstand people's emotions and criticisms."It took many years before her
husband and her children understood her commitment, she said. "When they
did, they supported my work fully."Twelve years in the movement has
completely changed her, she said.
"I was a different woman before the dam. As a woman, and as a fish vendor,
I had to always talk nicely to people. But you cannot survive this
struggle-and other male leaders-if you act like a pleaser. I've learned to
speak up, to confront. It's out of self-protection. The struggle has made
me tough."But toughness is necessary for successful negotiations. "Egat
always told the public they gave us this and that, painting us as greedy.
They never say that they didn't give us anything until we protested for our
rights and proved our cause," she said bitterly.
Through the villagers' persistence, sound data, and alliance-building with
environmentalists, academics and other grassroots groups, Egat agreed to
compensate the villagers for their loss of livelihood.
The compensation for lost income during the three-year period of
dam-building was bargained down, however, to only 90,000 baht; each family
would be paid 30,000 baht in cash and the rest of the money would go into a
cooperative fund.
Egat has yet to fulfil an agreement to compensate for the decline of fish
after construction of the dam with 15 rai of land or its equivalent in money.
"The officials never believed us when we said that the fish would
disappear. They told us to prove it by waiting at least three years after
construction of the dam. We did. And we were later proved correct."A decade
on, the Moon River has also become polluted, something the villagers did
not anticipate. To rescue their dying Mother Moon, the villagers said there
was only one choice: Open the gates to the Pak Moon Dam and let the river
run free again.
"We want no money. We want no compensation. We want nature back," said Mrs
Sompong.
"We never wanted the dam in the first place. But the authorities never
listened to us.
"Before the dam, fish from the Moon gave us everything. We were never
hungry. We built our own school and temple without using state money. We
were self-reliant. Our communities were close. Our families stayed together.
"After the dam, we lost not only our river but also our communities. People
were divided. Families were broken. I never thought our old life at Pak
Moon would come to this point, in such a short period of time, in my own
lifetime."The dam-opening demand entails another long wrangle with the
authorities. But the villagers have learned their lessons. Instead of
demonstrating in the Ubon Ratchathani town seat or in Bangkok, they
continue camping out at the dam site. Some 3,000 affected are staying put
there, including Mrs Sompong and her husband. They call it a village and
gave it a name: Mae Moon Man Yuen, which means long-lasting Mother Moon.
Like other families, Mrs Sompong's is scraping out a living now that
fishing in the Moon is impossible. Her two sons, former fishermen, are now
charcoal makers, an occupation for the poorest of the poor. One of her
daughters is a maid in Bangkok supporting her youngest sister's education.
"I used to visit them in Bangkok. Often they had nothing to eat. My heart
broke for them," said Mrs Sompong, her voice trembling.
But Mrs Sompong sees her duty as a mother now is with the Pak Moon struggle.
"For justice, we must fight, not for ourselves but for everyone. If we
don't fight, who will? We must be examples for our children."Twelve years
into the struggle, the iron woman said her goal was no longer limited to
the cause of the Pak Moon.
"I want a just society. I want to awaken the Thai people so that they are
aware of the on-going system of exploitation, about the country's national
debt situation, about strings attached with foreign loans that affect us.
"I also want local villagers to have the right to manage their own natural
resources. No more top-down policies from the authorities without
consulting us."Despite the odds, Mrs Sompong nurtures the hope that one day
society will open up and the Moon River will be returned to its children.
That's probably the reason why she still keeps old fishing gear in her
house and, in between marches and negotiations, keeps making new gear. "I'm
waiting for the day when I will be able to fish in the Moon again," she said.
She knows that when that day comes, her family will be together again-and
her duty as a mother will be finally fulfilled.
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Aviva Imhof
South-East Asia Campaigner
International Rivers Network
1847 Berkeley Way, Berkeley CA 94703 USA
Tel: + 1 510 848 1155 (ext. 312), Fax: + 1 510 848 1008
Email: aviva@irn.org, Web: http://www.irn.org
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