| The IRRI-sponsored campaign in Singburi followed the successful mass media format developed in Vietnam, with the addition of loudspeaker trucks to deliver the message to outlying villages. More than 1,000 posters appeared in shops and markets, and 12-meter-long billboards sprang up along highways. Their message was simple: “Reduce costs. Love your life. Love your environment. Stop using pesticides in the first 40 days of every rice crop.” The difficulty was convincing farmers to make that last leap.
“When we told farmers not to spray for the first 40 days, we had no reason to give them,” explains Wirachai Duangkut, a local agricultural extension officer. “At least, none they would accept.”
 That was how the farmer field schools helped. They set out to teach farmers the latest technologies by demonstrating them in their own fields. Farmers interested in soil, nutrients, pests, crop varieties, and other subjects were divided into groups of about 25, with one field serving as the field school trial site for each group. The farmers agreed to attend a school session at the site once every week for the 16-week duration of the crop. They witnessed, among other things, the benefits of not using pesticides for the first 40 days.
“We found that the farmers who’d been to a farmer field school had the confidence to follow our advice,” says Patcharee Menakanit, the director of the Pest Management Division of the Department of Agricultural Extension. “The others still listened to the pesticide dealers.”
However, with both projects in full swing, success was infectious. At a later meeting of farmers in Singburi’s Bang Ra Chan District, all 30 farmers present knew of the IRRI-led campaign. One sitting near the back was eager to voice his enthusiasm.
“I used to spray every crop about seven times,” says Sawet Thongkham. “Now, I spray only three times. I used to spray everything, even dragonflies. I used to be happy to see dead dragonflies! When I saw a neighbor spraying his fields, I was afraid the pests would run over onto my farm, so I’d spray my fields as well.
“The fields were silent,” he continues. “There were no voices. No frogs, no crickets. Even the eels in the water died. Now I see frogs and spiders. I see and feel the difference in my fields, and I can still match the yields of those who still use insecticides.”
Thongkham, who has been a farmer for 4 decades and rents 16 ha of land, claims to save $12 per hectare for every pesticide treatment he skips. “Because I went to a farmer field school, I know far more about pest management,” he explains. “I also know that using a lot of chemicals wasn’t good for my health. I feel better now. My life is a lot better.”
At another meeting a few kilometers away, farmers study figures written on whiteboards at a cooperative rice mill. The figures show the population of common rice-field insects, both desirable and undesirable, as counted by the farmers on regular field inspections. The farmers decide whether the insect populations are in balance and therefore unthreatening, or out of balance and calling for pesticide treatment. The members of the group began their weekly meetings, and their collective approach to pest management, on their own initiative.
“We heard the sound tracks about not using chemicals,” said Ali Kaewket, one of the farmers in the group. “All the people around here sprayed a lot. Now they’ve just about stopped.” Ali recalls that her village had once been a target for pesticide sales agents, adding, “They learned that we’re together and strongly against pesticide use, so they don’t bother coming here anymore.”
 Reduced pesticide use allows a successful approach to land preparation that not only is environment-friendly but also slashes costs. Already practiced on more than 3,200 hectares of rice land in central Thailand, the practice is spreading rapidly. Nobody quite knows where it started, but farmers recall that, before the plain was crisscrossed by roads and canals, nomadic families used to arrive from Bangkok with hundreds of ducklings. They would then herd the birds back toward the city, moving by day and camping at night. The growing ducks foraged for food along the way. By the time they reached the capital, they were mature and ready for slaughter. The cost to the owner was a pleasant walk in the countryside.
Today’s revival of duck driving is on wheels, the flocks hauled in four-level duckmobiles behind a tractor. Each is crammed with as many as 1,000 ducks, which the farmer takes from one idle field to the next, stopping at each for only a couple of days. As rice farming is a year-round, largely unsynchronized activity in this irrigated, intensively cropped area, there is never a shortage of rice fields briefly idled postharvest, awaiting land preparation and reseeding. In exchange for delaying land preparation for a few days to let his ducks feed, the duck driver gives the farmer a gratuity of 50 eggs or maybe 10 baht per rai ($1.50 per hectare).
Large-scale farmers have adopted a similar system. A few days after combine harvesters have cleared a field, farmers superficially burn the loose straw, flood the field, and bring in thousands of ducks. After they have been in the field for 2 days, the ducks are rounded up and moved to another field. The field is fertilized and direct-seeded with pregerminated seed, and then the water is drained. No other land preparation is necessary. The seeding rate is unchanged, and the crop develops normally from the untilled field.
According to Tawatchai Boonngam, the chief of agricultural extension for Bang Ra Chan District, one-quarter of the 80,000 rai (12,800 hectares) of rice land in his district is now prepared using the duck-rice system, and the practice is spreading. Participating farmers collectively save more than a quarter of a million dollars—or 450 baht per rai ($67 per hectare)—on land preparation without damaging the rice yield, which is typically 5.6−6.2 tons per hectare.
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