When Sutem Lakkao's grandmother and father died, they were buried
much as their ancestors had been: on the beach, close to their beloved
boats so they could listen to the waves and watch over the Chao Lay
community of fisherfolk in their afterlife.
But when his time comes, Sutem will be laid to rest in a cemetery
where all he will hear is the roar of traffic on Phuket, Thailand's
largest island and a key tourism destination.
The land in which Sutem's ancestors were buried now heaves with
daytrippers taking selfies, while the Urak Lawoi community of the Chao
Lay are confined to a small patch of Phuket's Rawai beach that is also
claimed by developers and individuals.
"Our way of life of the olden days is gone - when we could fish
anywhere, and we had a connection to the land because of our ancestors'
burial site and spiritual shrines," said Sutem.
"We do not have that connection any more," he said standing on the
sandy beach of Koh He, a small island off Phuket's southern coast, where
his ancestors were once buried.
The Chao Lay, or people of the sea, have lived on the shores of Thailand and Myanmar for generations, fishing and foraging.
Some, like the Moken, are nomadic, spending weeks on the sea and
free-diving to spear fish. Others, like the Urak Lawoi on Rawai beach in
Phuket, have a more settled life while fishing in the Andaman Sea with
their traps of rattan and wire.
They grabbed the world's attention in 2004 when they escaped the
devastating Indian Ocean tsunami by fleeing to higher ground when they
saw the waters recede.
But the community may be facing its greatest threat yet as marine
conservation efforts limit their traditional fishing grounds, and a
tourism boom pits them against developers keen on the patch of land that
their boats, homes and shrines sit on.
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Shared by many
At the heart of the struggles of the Chao Lay - also known as "Sea
Gypsies" - is not just their right to the sea and land, but also a more
fundamental question of legality and identity, said Narumon Arunotai at
Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok.
"Their culture and traditions are not protected by the Constitution,
and they do not have title deeds and permits, so it is difficult for
them to assert their claim," she said.
"But they were there long before the tourists and the
conservationists. If managed well, indigenous rights can go well with
conservation and tourism," she said.
Across the world, indigenous people are fighting for the recognition of their rights to land, forest and water.
While they own more than half the world's land under customary
rights, they have secure legal rights to only 10 percent, according to
Washington D.C.-based advocacy group Rights and Resources Initiative.
From Peru to Indonesia, laws aimed at conserving forests are leading to the evictions of indigenous people.
The Chao Lay's right to the sea is even more tenuous as they often
lack permits and licences for fishing, and get arrested or fined for
straying into newly established marine protected areas or island parks
that authorities say are key to conservation.
The Chao Lay in Phuket, which lies about 700 kilometres (430 miles)
southwest of Bangkok, face more than two dozen cases related to
encroachment of land and trespass of national parks.
Two families on Rawai beach lost their cases, and have to leave the homes in which they had lived for about 40 years.
Source - TheJakartaPost
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