Why Coca-Cola's Bakery Didn't Make It In Baan Talae Nok, Thailand

One sunny December morning three years ago, the schoolchildren of the southern Thai fishing village of Baan Talae Nok were in their playground near the beach practicing for a New Year’s ceremony. About 500 yards down the sand, a national park employee noticed the waters of the Andaman Sea looked strange—the water seemed to be receding quickly. He grabbed his motorbike and raced over a dusty, pock-mocked trail toward the village to warn the residents that a tsunami was headed their way. 

Tragically, the messenger bearing that news was known to be a heavy drinker, and the villagers dismissed his warnings as the raving of an alcoholic. Soon thereafter, half of the village houses were flattened by a wall of water. Fort y seven of the village’s 228 residents perished, including 16 schoolchildren. 

Today, the survivors live in cement homes set well away from the beach, homes built with the assistance of the Thai navy and an aid organization. There’s a new school, a modern, sparkling, all-brick complex with a pleasant courtyard, covered dining area, and six schoolrooms with neatly ordered desks and books.

And there’s also nascent industry in the Muslim village of Baan Talae Nok, which is a good thing. For generations, the sea provided villagers with their livelihood, but commercial fishing—you can see the ships on the horizon every night off the village beach—has led to overfishing, and the local catch is dwindling. With the help of an American named Bodhi Garrett, who was working at a nearby resort when the tsunami hit, Bann Taley Nok now hosts travelers in their homes, sharing meals with them and taking them hiking or out to sea to bring in the fishing nets (with an optional side trip to a pristine beach on a nearby uninhabited island where the just-caught fish are grilled for lunch).

Garrett, who was born in Nepal and raised in California, began the North Andaman Tsunami Relief, an independent, non-profit, non-religious organization to help decimated villages get back on their feet. Some might gaze at the splendid western coastline of the Andaman Sea and envision a parade of beach resorts, as you’ll find on the heavily touristed island of Phuket about a three-hour drive south of Baan Talae Nok. But others, like Garrett, thought it important to preserve the local culture that’s so often overrun by commercial development.

There are still fishermen in Baan Talae Nok, but if you visit the village early in the year, you’ll find as many as 20 residents meticulously shelling cashews for a nearby cashew processing plant. (A worker adept at shelling can earn 35 Thai baht a day, or slightly more than $1.) There are groves of rubber trees that are tapped by villagers. And visit the spa at the very posh Banyan Tree hotel in Bangkok and you’ll find soaps from Baan Talae Nok, fragrant bars made of, among other things, cloves, cumin, saffron flower, lemongrass, black sesame seed, and tamarind.

The village homestay program is now administered by another young company, Andaman Discoveries,  which runs a seven-month course on tourism development for locals that teaches the advantages of cultural heritage, environmental stewardship, and adventure-based guiding methods, as well as first aid, computer, and English skills. 

Visitors commonly stay three days (though some have stayed longer) and are briefed fully before arrival on what to expect—beds on floors with mosquito nets, Asian-style toilets, and little hot water. The traditional way to shower is to use a small bowl that is dipped in a vat of water—just pour it over your head to rinse. Surprisingly, high-speed Internet service (via satellite) is available for $1.35 an hour. 

I stayed one night in a home with our hostess, Cha, who prepared meals as good, if not better, than anything I’ve enjoyed elsewhere in Thailand. Because Baan Talae Nok is a Muslim village, no alcohol is served, so it’s all about water, sodas or fruit juices. At sunset, I saw one of the more extraordinary sights I’ve ever seen: More than 40 water buffalo parade across the beach into the sea to wallow in the salt water. Villagers told me it happens every night. The next morning, as I took a long-tailed motorboat to bring up fishing nets, I saw numerous crab-eating monkeys patrolling the bank of the klong (canal) leading to the sea. The monkeys are also adept at opening oysters. Mudskippers skittered along the (appropriately muddy) shoreline, and overhead I saw Brahminy Kites, comorants, and white-bellied sea eagles.

On a good month, Baan Talae Nok hosts as many as 25 visitors; the oldest tourist so far was 73 years old.

To visit, fly to Phuket or Suratthani and hire a car—Andaman Discoveries can help you with the logistics.

Efforts to help villages such as Baan Talae Nok following the tsunami have not always worked perfectly. On the village’s paved road, a weathered sign reads, “The Coca-Cola system in Thailand, as part of its tsunami reconstruction program, is proud to present this bakery to the community of Baan Talae Nok. Coca-Cola will always stand with the people of the south in good times and bad.”

The problem is, the residents of the village don’t eat bread, and they don’t have the means to transport it to other markets. Today what was supposed to be a bakery is a private home, though the sign still stands. Price Waterhouse Coopers was more on target; its German division built the town’s new school. Along with construction and landscaping, the company donated 20 computers and a batch of musical instruments. Today the computers and instruments sit unused because there is no one available to teach the 37 students how to use them. Andaman Discoveries is trying to raise enough money to pay for teachers.

There is, however, one important detail everyone got right: The school sits on the very highest point of land overlooking the village.