Editor’s Note: In early 2025, reports about pollution on the Kok River running from Myanmar into Thailand began to show up in local media — and that local dialogue and calls from various communities and NGOs on the ground led to a much broader conversation about the impacts of mining of rare earths, the economic and geopolitical pressures surrounding critical minerals development, and what this industry growth means for the health and future of the Mekong River system. The Stimson Center’s Southeast Asia team began to engage on this issue shortly after it became public and has worked over the last year to map the development of rare earth mines, along with other types of unregulated mines, throughout the Mekong and other major river basins in the region.

This problem is transboundary and international in nature, with implications for ecosystems, agriculture, and health, and much of our analysis has focused on the threats to the river system. But we do not want the devastating impacts on affected communities to be lost amid the big picture. The insights shared below by Saeng Mounglee from Romphothi Foundation shed light on how transboundary water pollution in Thaton has damaged her community’s livelihoods, affected day-to-day life, and even changed how the community celebrates the traditional Thai new year in the form of the Songkran water festival. While the pollution risks are ongoing, the Stimson Center was pleased to provide a small grant to the foundation with the support of the Chino Cienega Foundation to help them adapt and celebrate Songkran in new ways.

By Brian Eyler, Senior Fellow and Director, Southeast Asia Program

For more than one year, communities in Tha Ton have been living with the impact of rare earth mining upstream. What is happening is not only damaging the river, but also destroying the way of life, culture, and the relationship between people and the river that has existed for generations.

For people from Tha Ton, the Kok River has always been the center of our life. We use the river for daily consumption, farming, fishing, and for many cultural and spiritual ceremonies — especially during Songkran, or the water festival. This has always been one of the happiest times of the year. People working far away would return home to reunite with their families. Children play in the river. Elders receive traditional water blessings. Young people carry sand to the temple. The atmosphere was always full of laughter, warmth, and connection. Songkran is more than a simple cultural event; it is an important opportunity to strengthen the community, preserve intergenerational relationships, and foster a sense of belonging among younger generations.

But last year, everything changed. The color of the Kok River changed, and people began hearing warnings to avoid touching the water and to avoid eating fish and aquatic animals from the river that had fed us for generations.

For many people, this is not only an environmental issue — it is a deep feeling of loss. One elder in my community told me: “I never imagined that one day we would become afraid of the river that raised us from generation to generation.”

The impact did not stop with health concerns. Restaurants and resorts lost visitors and were forced to close. Families now have to buy drinking water because they can no longer trust the river as they once did. The safety of vegetables grown in the area has now been called into question. Living costs have increased while income has declined. Many young people have left the community and moved to the city in search of work because farming is no longer stable.

At the same time, many families still have no choice but to continue using water from the river, eating fish, and growing crops on contaminated land — because survival comes first. This is especially difficult for people without Thai citizenship, who face barriers to travel and employment outside the community.

Last year, many Songkran activities connected to the Kok River had to stop completely.But this year, the Kangai Moon community decided that they did not want to lose their traditions and their relationship with the river. Even amid fear and uncertainty, people in the village still wanted to preserve hope, culture, and their spirit of community. Many elders told us that if the community stopped gathering completely, people would lose not only tradition but also their sense of connection and emotional support during this difficult time.

With support from Chino Cienega Foundation and the Stimson Center, the Rompothi Foundation worked together with community leaders, youth groups, and local partners to organize a safer Songkran celebration — one that allowed people to continue cultural traditions while reducing direct contact with the contaminated river.

Image on left: The event was organized over three days. The first and second days focused mainly on cultural gatherings, traditional games, water activities, and community participation using the prepared clean water systems. Traditional games and cultural activities included Mak Nim, Muay Ta Lae, Mak Kon, and Sol Nam Mun (greasy oil pole climbing). Participants from different age groups joined friendly competitions, and prizes were distributed to winning groups. These activities helped revive traditional cultural games that had become less common in recent years while creating opportunities for children, youth, adults, and elders to interact together in a safe and supportive environment.

Image on right: This traditional game is called “Sao Nam Mun” (the Greasy Pole Climbing Competition). At the top of the pole, money and oil are attached as prizes. As the oil continuously flows down the pole, it becomes extremely slippery, making it very difficult to climb and reach the reward. This traditional game emphasizes teamwork, unity, and collective effort. Participants must work together closely, and some individuals often need to make sacrifices for the success of the whole team. It is therefore a powerful example of cooperation, trust, and team building.

Instead of using water directly from the Kok River, we prepared large containers of clean water in different activity areas, so children and families could still enjoy water activities safely. We also organized a traditional water blessing ceremony for elders, using ceremonial water prepared by the community for elder community members from four participating villages. For many elders, this was one of the most emotional moments of the celebration — a long tradition that had nearly disappeared the year before was continuing once again.

The water tanks were installed on higher ground near the activity areas, and pipes were connected to create shower-style water stations that allowed participants to safely enjoy water activities without relying directly on river water.

One of the shower-style clean water stations, so that participants can enjoy water activities utilizing safe water instead of river water.

Each village organized traditional blessing ceremonies for elders using ceremonial water prepared by the community. Approximately 500 gift packs were prepared and distributed to elders from four participating villages as a sign of gratitude, respect, and cultural continuity. Many elders expressed that the continuation of Songkran activities carried deep emotional significance during a difficult period for the community.

In addition, we revived traditional cultural games and activities that had not been organized for some time. These activities created spaces where young people, children, and elders could spend time together without depending on the river water. Community volunteers helped prepare food, organize activity areas, transport clean water, and support elderly participants throughout the event. Many young people also volunteered because they wanted to help protect both the community and the tradition.

This year, Songkran looked very different from the past. People were more careful and more aware of the risks surrounding them. But the spirit did not disappear. Children were still smiling and laughing. Elders were still giving blessings. Families were still gathering together. For many villagers, the celebration became more than just a festival — it became a symbol of resilience, solidarity, and hope. One villager told us: “Even though the river has changed, we do not want our children to lose the tradition that connects them to our community.”

What happened this year was not simply adaptation. It was an act of community resilience. Our people came together to protect not only their health, but also their culture, dignity, and connection to one another. For us, the Kok River is not only a natural resource — it is memory, identity, and a way of life. As I often say: We should not have to choose between culture and safety.

From this experience, we learned that the discovery of contamination in the Kok River should not become a reason for all Songkran celebrations in Tha Ton and throughout the Kok River basin to disappear completely. We believe communities can still celebrate their traditions and continue their way of life within the current limitations, if given proper support and understanding from the government and relevant agencies.

Even if life cannot return to exactly the way it was before, people in the Kok River community should still have the opportunity to restore their livelihoods, revive tourism, and preserve their culture and traditions — safely and with dignity.

One important step would be to create clear data and contamination maps, so communities can better understand which specific areas are affected and to what extent. Agricultural land where contamination is detected should have clear management measures and restrictions on growing edible crops. Affected farmers should receive proper support and compensation. In reality, the highly affected agricultural areas represent less than 10% of the farming area in Tha Ton — but today, fear and uncertainty are affecting the entire community.

At the same time, we want people to understand that Tha Ton is still much more than this crisis. Visitors can still come to experience the beauty of our community: our diverse indigenous culture, traditional way of life, trekking activities, and even the traditional boat journey from Tha Ton to Chiang Rai, which can still continue safely.

What we need now is honesty, transparency, and sincere action from the government. Today, even though there may only be a very small number of confirmed illness cases in Tha Ton, more than 20,000 people are being forced to live as though they are sick — even when they are not — because there is still no clear public information, no clear zoning, and no clear long-term solution for us. It is not fair.

So today, we want to remind the government and all responsible actors that river pollution may begin as an environmental issue, but it also affects culture, food security, livelihoods, public health, and human dignity. And at the same time, there are still solutions for the people of Tha Ton to have a better life. Our community may be strong and resilient — but community resilience should never become an excuse for inaction.

People living along the Kok River deserve access to clean water, transparent information, and meaningful participation in decisions that affect their lives — because protecting the world means protecting people, culture, and the future of the next generation.

Header image: Mae Kok River View. By Francisco Anzola.