Thailand: Earth's Tropical Paradise (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - The Central Heartland - full transcript

In the heart of Southeast Asia

is an ancient kingdom...

with over 3,000 km of coastline.

But beyond its golden shores...

there are secret worlds...

home to mysterious creatures...

and forest giants.

This is a fast-changing country
where East and West collide.

People and animals must
work together to survive...

forming unique relationships.

A spiritual land...



full of magic and wonder.

This is Thailand.

Each morning, a magical chorus
rings through the forests

of Khao Yai National Park
in central Thailand.

The cry of the lar gibbon bonds
males and females.

These intelligent apes
often pair for life,

and advertise their
territorial rights with song.

In their forest sanctuary,
this cream-coloured male

and his dark-haired mate
are raising a youngster.

Grooming helps keep
family bonds strong

for the ten or more years
they'll stay together.

Finding food is the next priority.

And it's not always easy.

It requires an intimate knowledge
of their patch of forest.



Building momentum helps them
swing from tree to tree

at speeds of more than
50 km per hour.

Following memory maps
of highways through the tree tops,

the gibbons find
the perfect places to forage.

But sometimes a gibbon highway
meets a human highway.

When the fruiting trees are
on the other side,

there's a big problem.

Gibbons are strictly arboreal,

so they're reluctant
to leave the trees

and are vulnerable on the ground.

Crossing a busy road on foot
would be too dangerous.

No one passing below this rope bridge
gives it a second thought.

But, for the gibbons,
it's a lifeline.

The rope bridge allows
the park's gibbons

to access fresh feeding grounds.

The devoted couple have located
a fruiting fig tree.

Time for a lazy breakfast.

Their lives have been made
just a little bit safer

by a human helping hand.

Life in one of Asia's
fastest-changing countries

means people and animals are
finding new ways to get along.

Central Thailand is the richest
and most productive region.

Its fertile flood plains nourish
rice fields

that cover 40 percent
of all the farmland.

Where the land meets
the Gulf of Thailand...

...lies the great city of Bangkok.

Around eight million people live
in the nation's capital.

And this bustling central region
is known as the nation's rice bowl.

Even here, there are
magical places to be found,

hidden from view...

where age-old beliefs and
traditional practices live on...

and time seems to have stood still.

Phraya Nakhon Cave was discovered
some 200 years ago,

when Thailand was still known
as Siam.

Thai kings have visited this cavern
for centuries.

The Royal Pavilion crowns
this mystical place.

Spirituality is the key
to understanding

central Thailand's harmonious
relationship with nature.

This Lyle's flying fox
is waiting out the heat of the day.

And he's not alone.

With leathery wings
nearly a metre wide,

he can fly 30 km or more
in search of fruit.

These flying foxes are often
regarded as pests,

destroying orchards
and causing conflict with farmers.

But this bat and his colony
are special.

They are under Buddha's
own protection.

This is the temple
of Wat Pho Bang Khla.

As dusk approaches,

the resident monks are called
to prayer by the beat of a drum.

But the bats have
heard it all before.

Here, the spiritual
and animal kingdoms are united.

Buddhism is the religion of
more than 90 percent of Thai people,

profoundly influencing
their everyday lives.

Buddhist teachings

state that all living things are
worthy of kindness,

compassion and tolerance.

This very tolerant place
is known as the Bat Temple.

It's the daytime residence
of 6,000 or more flying foxes.

Leaving their sanctuary
to forage far away,

they'll return at dawn
to this spiritual haven.

The natural world
features prominently

in Thai religion and mythology.

The lotus is linked
to Buddha himself.

In shallow lakes
to the west of Bangkok,

tightly-furled buds rise
on slender stems,

as if craning their necks
to the heavens.

The contrast of the blooms
to the muddy water

inspired Buddha to use the lotus
as a symbol of enlightenment.

The passage from darkness to light,

ignorance to wisdom.

Yukha spends every day
in the watery fields

plucking the stems.

Almost every part of the lotus
is edible,

and the petals, roots and stamens
are used in traditional medicine.

By dawn the next day, these
bouquets will be on sale in Bangkok.

But not as ingredients
for food or pharmacy.

They are destined
for a higher purpose.

The lotus bud is one of the most
popular ways to pay tribute

at one of more than 30,000 temples.

Embracing both Buddhist
and Hindu principles,

people make daily offerings
to honour the gods.

This shrine is named after Erawan,

the elephant that carried
the Hindu god Indra,

so he deserves a floral offering too.

Here in Thailand, one animal's fate
is intertwined more than any other

with the country's history
and its future.

The Asian elephant.

It has been revered for centuries.

Even the word for its dung
also means moon,

a new beginning, the propagator,

creating new life
from seed dispersal.

But the story of elephants in
Thailand is not always a happy one.

There are more than 4,000
of these giants in captivity,

and most visitors to Thailand

take a ride on a domesticated
elephant for granted.

At Sublangka Wildlife Sanctuary,

a new life is offered to elephants
rescued from the tourist trade.

The Elephant
Reintroduction Foundation

releases rehabilitated elephants
back into the forest.

31-year-old Wadsana was bought
by the sanctuary in 2011.

Four years later,
a calf called Earn arrived,

and they have been inseparable
ever since.

Earn and her adopted mother

are now taken
on regular walks in the forest.

To be ready for their release,

they'll need to be familiar with
its sights, sounds and smells,

know where to find water
and what they can and can't eat.

Annan is a former mahout,
an elephant trainer and rider.

He is now one of the team of rangers

responsible for the daily care
of the elephants.

Wadsana and Earn will soon
be ready to join

Sublangka's growing population
of elephants.

And for when the day arrives,
a royal send-off is being planned.

300 km southwest of Bangkok

lies the province of
Prachuap Khiri Khan.

The plains flood
during the rainy season,

and with the waters
come rich deposits of silt.

These fertile fields not only fill
the rice bowls of a nation...

...they also provide a major export.

So for farmers, living side by side
with animals is a delicate balance.

Chestnut munias do their best
to steal the rice grains

ripening in the paddy fields.

And the farmers chase them away,
just as they always have.

Open-billed storks were once hunted
by villagers for food.

But in the 1980s, golden apple
snails were introduced to Asia

from South America, and became
a major agricultural pest.

Suddenly, the storks became
the farmers' friends.

They are snail specialists...

so they are left to forage in peace.

Local farmer Uncle Alf
is draining a pool.

Fish are abundant among the paddies.

Family and friends muck in
to help with the catch.

These freshwater fish
were trapped here

when floodwaters receded
at the end of the last rainy season.

Scooping them up by hand is
the way it's always been done.

But sometimes,
the fish make it easy for you.

The harvested fish will be sold
at the market,

and the little egrets are welcome
to any left behind.

There's one kind of fish
that is highly prized

across central Thailand.

But not as food.

And these village boys
are out to catch some.

Here's what they're after,

a fish that's admired for showing
no fear in defence of its territory.

The Betta fish is better
known as the Siamese fighting fish.

They share their fearless reputation

with the gladiators of the ancient
martial art of Muay Thai,

or Thai boxing.

Top fighters can become
household names,

earning millions of Thai baht
per fight.

Fortunes can be won or lost
on the outcome.

The opponents size each other up.

The fish extend their fins
to make themselves look bigger.

When one fish is slipped
into the bottle of the other,

their true nature
as born fighters is revealed.

A knockout ends this bout...

and the fish fight is over

when one retreats
to the bottom of the bottle.

Tomorrow, both fish
will be returned to the wild.

For centuries, Siamese fighting fish
have been admired as prize fighters,

but selective breeding
to enhance colour, tail and fins

has also made them into
exquisite objects of desire.

Photographer Visarute is
well known in Thailand

for his photographs capturing
their silky sensuousness.

Extreme slow motion
reveals their dance

in all its willowy grace.

These little fish loom large
in Thai culture...

epitomising the exoticism
of this country.

Food is a huge part of Thai culture.

But among
the more familiar ingredients

in Thailand's food markets
are some unexpected delicacies.

Wi Li has bought this supper

of live crickets to feed her family.

Insects have long been
on the menu in Thailand,

and the children love
these crispy bugs.

But thieves lurk in the shadows.

The soles of their feet are covered
in microscopic bristles

that split into hundreds more,
gripping every surface.

It's one of the largest geckos
in the world.

The tokay.

A gecko might steal a meal or two,

but they also help get rid
of unwelcome insects.

Geckos evolved
to climb trees and rocks,

so scaling a wall is no problem.

At up to 35 centimetres long,

they're big lizards
with big appetites.

Thai people may be accustomed

to large lizards in their houses,

but some giants make
more intimidating neighbours.

Lumphini Park
in the heart of Bangkok.

An oasis of green
amid the daytime bustle.

But something's not quite right

with this picture of
carefully tended tranquillity.

There's danger...

...in this urban paradise.

Huge lizards called water monitors
stalk these lawns.

Water monitors can reach
more than three metres in length

and weigh over 50 kg.

These lizards are
exclusively carnivorous.

They even dispose of the remains
of less fortunate monitor lizards,

which may win them a few friends.

Razor-sharp teeth
and germ-laden saliva

can inflict life-threatening wounds.

But water monitors
rarely bite humans.

The reaction to these latter-day
dinosaurs is typically Thai.

Their attitude when it comes to
potentially lethal lizards

sharing public spaces is summed up
by one of their favourite

"mai pen rai", "It's fine."

"Just be calm, carefree,
and we can all get along."

Some Buddhist teachings advise
that things are best left alone.

But they also may urge direct action
to preserve the natural world...

like symbolically ordaining trees
as monks, complete with robes,

as a sort of spiritual
preservation order.

Other Buddhist ceremonies
can also benefit nature,

and for Wadsana and Earn,
it's a very special day.

Making merit is a way of
earning celestial favour

for doing a good deed.

It might be giving alms to a monk,
chanting Buddhist scripture

or releasing an animal into the wild.

As befits their size and place
in Thai culture,

to release an elephant is one of
the highest forms of making merit.

Today, six will be set free,
six elephants for the 60th birthday

of Thailand's much-loved
Princess Sirindhorn.

It's a very big day
for a little elephant like Earn.

She has to face
the crowds of well-wishers.

And Annan has even taught her
to bow for the princess.

The princess blesses them
with holy water.

She offers them each a stick or two
of sugar cane for their journey,

and they are free.

Annan and the team of rangers

will continue
to monitor their progress.

There's already a herd of
previously released elephants

roaming the forest.

Hopefully, in time, Wadsana
and Earn will join up with them.

But first, they need to get
used to life without Annan.

Elephants have always occupied
a special place in Thai mythology.

But other animals share
that mythical status.

And some are a lot harder
to get along with.

In rural Sakaerat,
northeast of Bangkok,

a lethal conflict is taking place
between villagers and snakes.

There are more than 175
snake species in Thailand.

This little Asian vine snake is one
of more than 100 that are venomous.

And more than half of those
are highly dangerous.

There are up to 10,000 snake bites
per year in Thailand.

And one type of snake
bites more people

than all the other snakes
put together.

This roadside community is
typical of rural Thailand.

Running through its centre

is a river that dries up entirely
in the hot season.

As night falls,
it becomes a perilous place,

haunted by predators.

Pit vipers.

Barely 60 centimetres long,

this green pit viper is
making its way to a site

where it can ambush frogs,
lizards or mice.

It's all too easy
for someone passing by

to brush dangerously close
to this striking little snake.

Snakes are often killed on sight,

but there's a snake conservation
team here

that is trying to save the snakes
and people

in the Sakaerat area and beyond.

A call has come in

that a huge king cobra
has tried to enter a house,

and has taken refuge
in a potted shrub.

Colin Strine,
head of the snake team,

assesses the situation.

Step back, step back, step back.

It's one of the world's
most deadly snakes.

Okay, I'm going to go ahead
and make the grab now.

I'm trying to bring out the vines
that it's grabbing onto...

The bite of a king
can deliver enough venom

to kill an elephant,

so there's no room for error.

Here we go, here we go.
Go, go, go.

- Grip now, grip now, please.
- Okay, got it.

- Good? Okay.
- Got it. Woah.

Good boy, good job. Okay.

Release, let go.

If this snake had not been
rescued, the locals would have felt

they had no choice but to kill it.

Bagged and boxed,
the cobra will be taken back

to the conservation centre.

Nice and easy.
We don't see any parasites. Okay.

Snakes that are brought in
by the team are given a sedative

prior to a thorough health check.

Measurements are taken
for the team's research.

Perfectly natural,
and it's quite common with humans

to be very fearful of snakes.

I guess we should just be
really happy

that they were willing to call
instead of just killing it.

We do work pretty hard to try
and educate people about snakes,

and about not to be afraid of them.

The king cobra is
the longest of all venomous snakes

and reaches close
to six metres in length.

This male is a mere
three-and-a-half metres.

The sleeping king is inflated.

The long lungs running down his body
are full of anaesthetic

which has to be manually forced out
before he can come around.

It's crucial that rescued snakes are
returned to their own territories,

so they're given time
to recover fully

before being released a short
distance from their capture sites.

For Colin, every king
safely returned to its territory

is a success story.

It feels good,
because they're still alive.

It's always a pleasant feeling when
they're going back into the wild.

Some Thai people believe
that encountering a snake

is a sign of good luck
and good fortune...

though it might be best to avoid
sharing the water with one.

The ancient serpent cult
of this region teaches

that the wealth of Thailand
was bestowed upon it

by the Naga snake spirits

living in the kingdom's waterways.

For centuries, these waterways
have helped transport

people and goods around Thailand.

At watery crossroads, floating
markets sprang up everywhere.

These days, modern commerce
is fast replacing the traditional.

But an amiable armada of old women,
vessels laden with local produce,

still invades Tha Kha,
west of Bangkok,

to buy and sell from boat to boat.

The lowlands of central Thailand

have long been the agricultural
heart of the country.

A network of canals was constructed
to link rivers

and allow the transportation
of goods

east from Cambodia and southwest
from coastal provinces.

During the rainy season,

fertile sediment washes
down these waterways,

eventually reaching
the Gulf of Thailand.

As the monsoon subsides,
the sea teems with life.

The waters are ripe for harvest,

and one of the largest yields comes
in the form of a very small fish.

It's anchovy season at fishing
villages all along the Gulf Coast.

The daily catch is deftly filleted

and neatly laid out
to dry in the sun.

This must take place
before the fish start to spoil,

so everyone plays a part
in the process.

Once the sun and breeze
have done their work,

the dried fish will keep
for up to a year.

There's plenty for everyone
in this seasonal pay-out.

Flocks of terns are always ready
to cash in.

But a much larger fisherman
has arrived in these waters.

The locals call it "chao pho lai,"
meaning "very big grandfather."

A 15-metre-long Bryde's whale.

Whales are thought
to bring good luck,

but locals believe that bad things
happen to those who harm them.

"Chao pho lai" is also the name
for Thai mafia. Godfathers.

From August to December, the whales
gather in the Gulf of Thailand

to make the most of
the abundant anchovies.

They usually feed alone,

though a mother and calf
will hunt together.

These two have located
a school of anchovies.

Like other whales
in the rorqual family,

such as blue and humpback whales,

Bryde's whales sieve
each monumental mouthful

through long, coarse bristles
called baleen.

At least,
that's how it usually works.

These whales are
exhibiting behaviour

that is puzzling marine biologists.

Some think
the anchovies are too small,

and would slip through
the coarser baleen of the Bryde's.

So the whales rock and swill
the fish to the back of the gullet

so they can swallow them.

In other parts of the world
where they feed on larger fish,

Bryde's whales don't use
this method.

But here, they seem to have developed
a unique way of making the most

of Thailand's fertile waters.

These giants of the sea are treated
with respect and reverence.

In central Thailand, the giants of
the forest are gaining freedom

and ever more footholds in the wild.

The little elephant family
is learning to live on its own.

Climbing a tall and slippery bank
could be dangerous for Earn,

but Wadsana shows her how,
ascending the slope on her knees.

It looks like
Earn's going to be just fine.

The rangers follow the elephants
regularly,

checking to make sure
they are healthy

and learning to feed themselves
successfully.

Annan will never come
into close contact with them again.

They'll now live out their lives
in the forest as wild elephants.

The Asian elephant is
the enduring symbol of Thailand.

At Sublangka, their breeding herd
in the wild is also a symbol

of Thailand's transition
from past to present.

Making merit
and earning goodwill from the gods,

means also renewing the forest.

In the forests, fields and even
the cities of central Thailand,

nature thrives with the blessing
and help of its people.

Unique, spiritual and still untamed,

the ancient bonds between
humans and animals live on.

During the filming of
the central Thailand episode,

the crew visited Sakaerat,

a hotspot for conflict
between humans and snakes.

The one creature they really wanted
to film was a very pretty snake

with a very bad reputation.

It's a snake that has been
carefully studied here

at the Sakaerat
Environmental Research Station.

These will
put you in the hospital.

Producer Steve Cole is
introduced to the serpent in question

by snake research assistant
Ben Marshall.

These guys are responsible
for the vast majority

of bites in Thailand.

They are beautiful, aren't they?

It's a green pit viper.

How far would that snake strike?

'Cause, is it a she? Would she expect
me to be a lot closer before she--

Yeah, much closer,
and a lot more agitated.

These guys are not going to waste
their time, waste their venom.

They will attempt to hide,

they will attempt to just
stay absolutely still.

It sounds like the sort of snake
we might have some hope of filming.

Absolutely.
Especially when you find one,

'cause he's not going to be
going anywhere.

Finding these creatures
in the wild

can be both difficult and dangerous.

But luckily for Steve,
this team rescues and releases

the types of venomous snake

that most often come into conflict
with people.

Many of these are radio tagged

to provide data on their habits
and whereabouts.

I keep thinking she,
but I could be wrong.

It's this inside info
that Steve needs.

And snake researcher Sammy Assad
is here to guide the film team.

Three tagged pit vipers have made
this dry riverbed their home.

They don't move around much,
so they should be easy to find.

That's the theory.

Green pit vipers hunt
under the cover of darkness.

Sammy quickly picks up the signal
of one of the transmitters.

So at the moment,

it's sounding like
he's just within the base

of this, kind of,
liana-vegetation-covered tree.

I'd definitely be careful
moving around here,

'cause there are lots of other
green pit vipers in the area.

So if you're going to walk around,

make sure you've got
a head torch on.

After checking he's not
about to have

his very own snake conflict,

cameraman Si Wagen sets up lights.

I can see him now.

Got him. Fantastic!

In this tangle of
twigs and branches,

you can just see his coils...
There. The scales.

It's impossible to pick out
his head at the moment.

They can just blend in
so beautifully,

it's almost impossible to see them
in this tangle of leaves.

But if he stays there, we won't be
able to get a good shot of him.

The pit viper
showed no sign of moving,

so the team come back to
the same location the next night.

They hope to find
a more accessible snake.

So...

It's amazing that our light
doesn't bother him,

but it seems like
his method of defence

is the same as
his method of attack.

Just keep very still.

Now they have seen
for themselves

how still pit vipers can be,

they have an even more
complicated shot in mind.

We are going to try to get
a motion-control camera shot.

Motion-control cameras
run along small tracks,

allowing smooth moves
into a subject.

In this case, Steve is hoping
they can create the feel

of a striking snake

without the danger
of an actual snake attack.

I've no idea even if
it's pointing in the right direction.

No, it's not.

It's trickier than we thought.

I always thought
it would be tricky!

I, on the other hand,
was an optimist.

Wrongly so.

The problem is,
the focus has to be pin sharp

at the closest point to the snake.

I can't quite
achieve focus there...

And that means the camera

is well inside
the snake's striking range.

I physically have to
get closer to it.

To get focus,

I'm going to have to put my hand
right next to its face.

- Well, you can't do that.
- No. So I'm going to guess the focus,

- and then run it back and forwards...
- Correct.

...until such time as
we get the focus correct.

Okay, so... We're going
to have to inch forward.

Once Si has set the focus
as close to the snake as possible,

he has to stop the camera
in exactly the right spot.

I've got about 3mm
to park this camera.

The depth of field
at point of focus is so shallow,

there's no margin for error.

Right, Steve, here we go.

Well, that's sharp.
Spot on.

I think that's about as close
as we're going to get.

It's closer than I thought
we'd be able to get,

and he's been very patient,

so I think it's time for us
to leave him alone now.

He's also paying way too much
attention me now.

And I don't like that!
He's only little, but he's scary.

The team has got the shot.

The green pit viper finds
a less busy place to hunt,

and speeded up,

the shot is suitably striking.

Next time, we head to
Thailand's untamed north,

where mysterious cloud forests
are home to ancient customs.

Here, life can be tough,

and survival means
forging unexpected alliances...

both old...

and new.