Thoughts: Ecotourism

Throughout the trip, I often thought about the impact of the tourism industry on the things we were seeing. Most of the Balinese economy seemed geared toward some form of tourism: hotels, souvenirs, transportation, guides, restaurants, and night clubs all owe their existence to the consistent influx of tourist dollars. The elephant safari park we visited is supported by private donors and tourists who visit the park; there is no public funding. The same was true in Jogjakarta and Jakarta, though to a lesser extent: private companies own and manage the sites of Borobudur and Prambanan. The upkeep of the monuments is therefore funded not by any public tax or maintenance effort, but by the dollars spent by tourists. (I could be wrong, but I can't find anything detailing governmental funding for them.)

I also thought a lot about the harm ecotourism does to the area. As I said, the vast majority of what we saw in Bali was geared toward tourists. I've read that the modern incarnation of the Kecak dance, which we saw, is not in fact an actual Balinese dance. Rather, it is a combination of characteristics from different dances that impressed a European visitor to the island a long time ago. Wanting to help produce a representation of Balinese culture that would impress outsiders, he helped engineer a new dance--the version we saw--incorporating all of those characteristics.

With so many things to see around Bali, hiring a car and driver is almost required to save time. That demand has greatly increased automobile traffic, which requires more extensive infrastructure to accommodate it. Developing those long, twisty roads to remote locations like the elephant park, eventually you'll run up on the local villagers' property, producing scenes like this one. Should demand continue to grow, more than likely plans will be made to widen the road still further, which will require destroying some of their homes. Local villagers, minding their own business, will be displaced because we foreigners want so desperately to see that remote elephant safari park. We're trying to help--we want to help save those endangered elephants by learning about them firsthand--but that help costs those locals their livelihood.

Also, as an anthropologist, I want to learn firsthand as much as I can about other cultures. Being in places like Bali and Borneo, I especially wanted to observe indigenous people living traditionally. It's a simple, silly, yet powerful fantasy, meeting people who live with almost no concern for the trappings of urban civilization. However, to get me there, I consume the services of a guide, a driver, a car, and its gasoline. The fact that tourists like me will buy trinkets and little bits of material culture from these indigenous people means that those people are more likely to produce more of those trinkets, just to meet that demand. That alters their lifestyle, making it less authentic--the very desire to interact with such distinct and so-called pristine culture dilutes and cheapens it.

This hit me the hardest when I visited Borneo. In response to one foreigner wanting to visit the orangutan rehabilitation center in Tanjung Puting, the tour company arranged a 60-foot-long boat, five workers, and a mixture of both local and western food to support us for four days. Granted they'd planned on three of us showing up, but Coke and Sprite at every meal plus three meals and two snacks a day is wasteful no matter how many people pool together.

Do the benefits--the thrill of sightseeing, the deeper understanding of the urgent need for change, firsthand experience with one-of-a-kind wildlife--outweigh the costs--labor, fuel, food, garbage?