My whole life I’ve had two sides: one that loves the finer things, and another that stems back to walking around barefoot, eating berries off the bush, fishing off the dock, and sleeping under the stars. Having grown up in the small town of Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, I have a soft spot in my heart for connecting with the outdoors, and while I may be a city girl now, that part of me still remains.
So needless to say, when I was travelling with my sister through Thailand I let her convince me to stay at Asa Lanta. I’ll be perfectly honest, it was more her idea than mine, and quite frankly I was loving the idea of sipping cocktails by a pool, but we eventually found ourselves in the jungles of Ko Lanta, arriving to what I only knew as a ‘sustainable village.’
We eventually found ourselves in the jungles of Ko Lanta, arriving to what I only knew as a ‘sustainable village.’
The concept, as our hosts Anke and Aoi described it, was clear. We would be at Asa Lanta for one week to help build a hut on the land, and would live within the self-sustaining village. Our meals would be cooked over an open flame, our showers would consist of scooping cold rainwater out of an urn with a coconut shell, and our entertainment would only last as long as the daylight did. There was no electricity, no plumbing, and essentially nothing that I had grown used to in my comfortable Canadian life.
My first reaction was oh, hell no. While yes, I come from a small town and love being outdoors, being in a remote part of a Thai jungle is a whole other beast — and I mean that in the most literal sense. There was a moment during that week where a snake fell from the top of our door frame, after multiple attempts to shut it went unsuccessful. Then there were the spiders — the size of my hand, hairy, and ridiculously fast. Even better, they loved to be in damp places, and were often lining the walls of the very small closet we used to shower (with the aforementioned urn and coconut scoop). Of course there was a black widow spider and her nest just next to where our beds were, and a few freakishly large spider skeletons hanging in the old webs inside the outhouse, of which my flashlight only enhanced when I had to pee in the middle of the night. Of all the creatures we saw there that week, the frogs had to be the one kind I genuinely didn’t mind, and that’s probably because they didn’t bite.
My first reaction was oh, hell no.
That said, I stuck around. I fought the urge each day to run far, far away to the comforts of a modern-day guest house, and each day I grew more proud of myself for it. The hut we were building got taller, the relationships we made with our hosts grew stronger, and my appreciation for everyday luxuries became more substantial. I especially looked forward to lunch each day, where we enjoyed an organic, home-cooked meal as a community. Each dish was more delicious than the last (with the exception of the jungle pig I tried, which still had coarse hairs sticking out of the skin – and yes I still tried it) and each night I slept more soundly, acclimatizing myself to the sounds in the jungle.
By the end of the week, not a single spider had touched me, and I had learned how to use the outhouse without asking my sister to check it for creatures beforehand. I’d made friends to last a lifetime, and memories that can be passed down for even longer than that. While I don’t anticipate I’ll ever find myself at Asa Lanta again, I do think of the experience as one that everyone should have at some point in their lives, even if you’re a city girl like me.
I’d made friends to last a lifetime, and memories that can be passed down for even longer than that.
If you’d like to learn more about Asa Lanta and their offerings, please let me know! I could have written an entire novel here, but thought I’d start with this and see if there’s any interest. I’d love to answer any questions you have, or create additional blog posts on the day-to-day experience and cost if you’re curious. Let me know in the comments, or shoot me a message on the contact page. 🙂
