Chiang Mai, the capital city of the Province of Chiang Mai, is steeped in history. From its foundation the city has enjoyed both successful and turbulent times. The creation of this moated city can be traced back to the Lanna (million rice fields) Kingdom.
A major tourist attraction, lying to the south east of Chiang Mai, is Wiang Khum Kham. This is where the first city of the Lanna Kingdom was built. Due to flooding however the city was not a success and so had to be abandoned.
Chiang Mai was built in 1296 as the capital of Lanna. King Mangrai and his close friends King Ramkhamhaeng of Sukhothai and King Ngam Muang of Phayao choose this fertile location in the Ping Valley, close to the Ping River. The location served the city well with the trade the river brought. More over the city sat at the bottom of Doi Suthep, a mountain which provided wood for the city.
The Lanna Kingdom enjoyed its most prosperous period in the 15th century. The kingdom was well established and had a vast area of control. From the Burmese Shan territory, to the north western parts of Laos, to the Yunnan province in China the Lanna Kingdom had total control. The official religion was Buddhism which is still the most popular religion in this region today. The Lanna Kingdom is credited with spreading Buddhism throughout this part of Asia.
Temples (wat) were built in Chiang Mai they were beautiful, grand and well decorated buildings. The first temple to be built was Wat Chiang Man. It was built during the 13th century and still stands today. Housed within Wat Chiang Man are Phra Satang Man (a crystal Buddha) and Phra Sila (a marble Buddha) both highly revered figures within Buddhism. Pictures of Chiang Mai
Built in 1345 is Wat Phra Singh. This masterpiece is arguably the most spectacular example of a vintage northern Thai style temple. Housed within it is the Phra Singh Buddha which was transferred from Chiang Rai hundreds of years ago. Chiang Mai’s most famous feature, the moat, was built around the same time as Wat Phra Singh. The purpose of the moat was primarily to keep the Burmese from invading the city.
Burma wasn’t the only enemy that faced Lanna. Many wars had been fought against the Siamese of Ayutthaya. The cost of these wars on Lanna was heavy. Eventually in a weakened state Chiang Mai fell to the Burmese under the leadership of King Bayinnaung in 1558.
It was 200 years before the Burmese were ousted from Chiang Mai. The northern Thais united with the Siamese, led by King Taksin and successfully fought the Burmese, forcing them to leave Chiang Mai. This had more significance for King Taksin as he was trying to protect his kingdom. Having been defeated by the Burmese at Ayutthaya, he realised that without Chiang Mai it would be very difficult for the Burmese to attack Siam.
After the Burmese fled Chiang Mai the city was effectively ruined and so was uninhabited. It was Chao Kawila, appointed viceroy of Chiang Mai by King Taksin, who rebuilt the city in 1796. The walls around the moat that stand today were built at this time and still can be viewed and enjoyed on walking tours of the city.
The present day population of Chiang Mai can be traced back to a Tai ethnicity. This is because the new city was compiled of Shan, Tai Khoen, Tai Yong and some local people. What you will now find in Chiang Mai is a mixture of these ethnicities which through integration and assimilation became known as Khon Mueng. They have their own distinct language which is a dialect of central Thai.
The beginning of the end for Chiang Mai as an independent capital in Lanna was to come with more economic cooperation with Siam. This led to King Chulalongkorn (Rama V) overseeing all administrative duties in Chiang Mai. The interest being shown by foreign powers such as Britain in the teak forests was certainly a reason for Rama V to take control of Chiang Mai.
With tighter control on Chiang Mai by Rama V the British began logging on a massive scale. At first this was without problems. However due to a lack of regulations concerning concessions and taxation on logging teak, resentment and fiction began to occur especially in the border area. British loggers began to be killed and so the British turned to Siam for assistance in security.
This had the effect of placing Chiang Mai under the total control of Bangkok. The 1873 Treaty of Chiang Mai took care of this. Siam feared that the British, who were already in control of Burma would, for economic interests, come across the border and take control in Lanna. This would have serious political problems for Siam and so had to be avoided. Thailand history and culture
With the building of a railway to Chiang Mai and the introduction of a telegraph service trade links grew stronger between Chiang Mai and Bangkok. With the revolution of 1932 the absolute monarchy was finished and so Chiang Mai became a province of Siam. In 1949 Thailand replaced Siam as the official name.
Much hardship and suffering occurred during WWII in Chiang Mai under Japanese occupation. The mountainous terrain and scenery that draws so many visitors to the region also had a sinister side. The Japanese, using forced labourers, built roads through this incredibly tough landscape. These are the same roads that are in use today, and are now an essential and necessary aspect to enjoying the scenery of northern Thailand.
Chiang Mai has seen an annual increase in tourist numbers since the boom in the 1990’s. Also an ever increasing ex-pat community is developing. Both tourist and ex-pat are endeavouring to gain a true Lanna experience by living in historical Chiang Mai.
http://www.amazines.com/article_detail.cfm/281899?articleid=281899
Showing posts with label Northern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Northern. Show all posts
2007/09/12
White-water Rafting in Chiang Mai – Northern Thailand
We’d come donw from the hippie town of Pai. After days of heavy rains and stormy conditions, the weather finally breaks and the intense sun can be felt once again. We're travelling in a Landrover alongside the Mae Tang River, fighting through deep ruts and muddy conditions that were caused by a storm. The gorge to our left drops away dramatically and we finally get out first glimpse of the raging waters. I'm hoping my partner, who was reluctant to come on the trip, won't be deterred by the sight of the ferocious river.
Jason, our guide, thankfully reassures us that he never rafts an angry river. He stops and points to some rocks by the river's edge. “See this boulder here”, he points out, “when this is above the water level, it’s safe to raft this river”. The rain from the recent typhoon has inundated the valley and there is forest debris strewn all along the river banks. We weren’t sure whether to raft here or in Pai. Fortunately, he is internationally trained and qualified in water rescue so we take his word for it.
We reach our camp at the charming village of Sop Kai, where the river is slower due to the flat nature of the land. The jungle birds are singing, the water is glistening and everybody is in a more jovial mood. We are given some coffee and snacks and left to relax for a while in this peaceful, sleepy community. Few tourists make it here to enjoy the wonderful scenery. His camp was much like the laid back atmosphere in Pai a few days back.
Before we get too comfortable, we are kitted out with paddles, helmets and buoyancy aids. We are given a comprehensive safety briefing, and told that the guides will be in control of the rafts and that we must follow their orders. We practice our strokes on a quiet section of the river. “Forward paddle! Back paddle! Lean left! Right! Get down!” he screams as we try our best to appear competent.
Our minds are put at ease when some of the staff are dispatched to the more dangerous parts of the river, in anticipation of the raft capsizing. We also have kayakers that will stay with us to rescue anyone who falls in.
Before we knew it, the guides launch us into the main current of the river and the camp disappears from view. It’s too late to go back and we focus intently on the rapids ahead. My heart rate increases as the thunderous sound of water gets closer and closer. I let out a scream as we are thrown into the grade four rapid, anxiously trying to stay balanced as the raft accelerates. My adrenalin pumps and we are thrown around, but it’s not long until the raft emerges into a calmer section.
We continued, riding over some smaller and less-intimidating rapids until our guide said “okay, everybody ready?” A large collection of storm debris has divided the upcoming rapid and the right hand side looks extremely dangerous. “Lean left! Left, left, left!” he shouts as we desperately try to avoid being swept into the menacing waters. People start to panic until the survival instinct takes over and we haul ourselves towards the easier looking section. Miraculously, we somehow make it and our panic turns to laughter as we exit the section with relief and cheers.
After a deserved lunch break when we relax and swap stories, we proceed onto the toughest section of our journey. The next rapid is a grade five, the hardest, and it looks more like a waterfall. We approach it with trepidation, knowing that there is no way back and only one way through it. As we hurl over the top, I catch a glimpse of the safety team on the bank and I sense that we may not make this one unscathed.
The raft hits the bottom and immediately flips over, tossing everyone into the water. Panic reigns once again as I’m pushed underwater by the power of the rapids. I desperately try to remember the safety advice I was given earlier in the day. Fighting it is forlorn and I wait for what seems like an eternity until I’m washed out farther downstream and able to swim to the safety of the bank.
We are able to regroup and rescue the rafts, safe in the knowledge that we survived the mighty Mae Tang River. A celebratory photograph is all that is left of my most exciting day in Thailand.
http://www.articlesbase.com/travel-articles/whitewater-rafting-in-chiang-mai-northern-thailand-137750.html
Jason, our guide, thankfully reassures us that he never rafts an angry river. He stops and points to some rocks by the river's edge. “See this boulder here”, he points out, “when this is above the water level, it’s safe to raft this river”. The rain from the recent typhoon has inundated the valley and there is forest debris strewn all along the river banks. We weren’t sure whether to raft here or in Pai. Fortunately, he is internationally trained and qualified in water rescue so we take his word for it.
We reach our camp at the charming village of Sop Kai, where the river is slower due to the flat nature of the land. The jungle birds are singing, the water is glistening and everybody is in a more jovial mood. We are given some coffee and snacks and left to relax for a while in this peaceful, sleepy community. Few tourists make it here to enjoy the wonderful scenery. His camp was much like the laid back atmosphere in Pai a few days back.
Before we get too comfortable, we are kitted out with paddles, helmets and buoyancy aids. We are given a comprehensive safety briefing, and told that the guides will be in control of the rafts and that we must follow their orders. We practice our strokes on a quiet section of the river. “Forward paddle! Back paddle! Lean left! Right! Get down!” he screams as we try our best to appear competent.
Our minds are put at ease when some of the staff are dispatched to the more dangerous parts of the river, in anticipation of the raft capsizing. We also have kayakers that will stay with us to rescue anyone who falls in.
Before we knew it, the guides launch us into the main current of the river and the camp disappears from view. It’s too late to go back and we focus intently on the rapids ahead. My heart rate increases as the thunderous sound of water gets closer and closer. I let out a scream as we are thrown into the grade four rapid, anxiously trying to stay balanced as the raft accelerates. My adrenalin pumps and we are thrown around, but it’s not long until the raft emerges into a calmer section.
We continued, riding over some smaller and less-intimidating rapids until our guide said “okay, everybody ready?” A large collection of storm debris has divided the upcoming rapid and the right hand side looks extremely dangerous. “Lean left! Left, left, left!” he shouts as we desperately try to avoid being swept into the menacing waters. People start to panic until the survival instinct takes over and we haul ourselves towards the easier looking section. Miraculously, we somehow make it and our panic turns to laughter as we exit the section with relief and cheers.
After a deserved lunch break when we relax and swap stories, we proceed onto the toughest section of our journey. The next rapid is a grade five, the hardest, and it looks more like a waterfall. We approach it with trepidation, knowing that there is no way back and only one way through it. As we hurl over the top, I catch a glimpse of the safety team on the bank and I sense that we may not make this one unscathed.
The raft hits the bottom and immediately flips over, tossing everyone into the water. Panic reigns once again as I’m pushed underwater by the power of the rapids. I desperately try to remember the safety advice I was given earlier in the day. Fighting it is forlorn and I wait for what seems like an eternity until I’m washed out farther downstream and able to swim to the safety of the bank.
We are able to regroup and rescue the rafts, safe in the knowledge that we survived the mighty Mae Tang River. A celebratory photograph is all that is left of my most exciting day in Thailand.
http://www.articlesbase.com/travel-articles/whitewater-rafting-in-chiang-mai-northern-thailand-137750.html
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