Western Society and Ecotourism: Traveling Companions?
12/1/96
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RELAYED TEXT STARTS HERE:
Headline: Western Society and Ecotourism: Traveling Companions?
Source: The Bulletin of Science, Technology & Society, Vol. 16 Nos 1-2,
1996.
Date: 12/1/96
Author: John D. Ivanko
"One of the gladdest moments in life is the departure into
unknown lands, shaking with one vibrant step the irons of habit,
the lead of routine, the cloak of care and the confinement of
home.
The blood flows with the fast circulation of childhood, with the
thrill of touching the contours of undiscovered shorelines and
the blue flames of distant mountains."
-Richard Bangs
Editor-in-Chief of Mungo Park
Founder of Sobek Expeditions
Western Society and Ecotourism: Traveling Companions?
by John D. Ivanko
Published in the Bulletin of Science, Technology & Society, Vol. 16, Nos.
1-2, 1996
As the global census figures race toward 10 billion by the mid-30s of the
next century and nano-seconds increasingly make the difference in stock
market profits or losses, somewhere at least a few people are asking "how
much is enough?" When do we have enough money, enough people, and enough
"progress?" But to speak of curbing these without a thoughtful plan so
others can understand the process, would seem as strange as the U.S.
government paying furlowed "workers" for work they never did--unless, of
course, you were one of them.
What does the above situation have to do with tourism? To most--especially
those who mistakenly regard the petrochemical or automotive industries as
the largest in the world--tourism probably means very little. But think
again. According to the World Tourism Organization, tourism and travel are
estimated to have grossed over $3.4 trillion in 1994, creating jobs for
about 10% of the global work force. These figures might very well double in
the next ten years.
Ecotourism (often including rural tourism, heritage/cultural tourism,
nature-based tourism, and adventure/experience-based tourism) has
demonstrated growth far in excess of the so-called "mass tourism" market by
posting 30% annual increases between 1990 and 1995. This increase can be
compared to a Stanford Research Institute forecast of 8% growth in mass
tourism over the same period. According to the Travel Industry Association
of America, over 50% of the U.S. adult traveling public--147 million
people--have taken an "adventure" trip in their lifetime. Included on this
"adventure" activity roster are camping, hiking and biking. Though a small
segment of the overall tourism industry, ecotourism's profit margins tends
to exceed that of mass tourism. In 1994, the average ecotourism two-week
package cost between $2,000 and $3,500--depending on location and activity.
Ecotourism has both the potential to change the way we view travel and to
provide the means to care for our diverse and rich resources. Western
Society (about 1.1 billion people) cannot bring the remaining 4.4 billion
people in less developed countries up to the Western consumptive "standard
of living" without exhausting the earth's resources. Ecotourism¯and the
conservation ethic and ecological perspective embodied within--creates a
situation where both the West and the less developed societies can converge
toward the middle. Perhaps ecotourism is the elusive "common ground"
because it fundamentally changes the economic dynamics of business.
Ecotourism recognizes the ecological and cultural costs of doing business
as well as champions what Wendell Berry calls "local economy" - i.e., the
community becomes strong and cohesive by what's developed and sustainably
managed on a local level.
Ecotourism might also offer the ability to circumnavigate that quagmire of
ecological misunderstanding and ignorance which leads to environmental
degradation as noted by David Orr in Ecological Literacy. One solution Orr
mentions is "... a global catastrophe large enough to get our attention,
but small enough to recover from. This prospect presumes that the causes of
any such event would be correctly diagnosed, the proper conclusions drawn,
and wise actions result. But it is not difficult to see this chain
interrupted by the complexity of events, political pressures,
shortsightedness, nationalism, and irrationality...we cannot count on
having a catastrophe just the right size." (Orr, 1992, p. 61) Ecotourism
might be but an avenue--a pathway--around Orr's insightful comment. More
often than not, ecotourism's "technology" is process oriented and subtle in
effect: localized and harmonized with nature and the surrounding community.
Through successful ecotourism models, then, world attention and resources
could be better directed toward conservation and preservation ends.
As a part of the service industry, ecotourism promotes what Alan During, in
his important book How Much is Enough?, calls the "shift from material to
non-material ends." This shift is the only viable way in which human
demands made on the environment will not overrun the carrying capacity of
the planet. Ecotourism is in fundamental opposition to consumption as a
means to fulfillment; rather, the sense of place, the excitement of
experience, and the opportunity of learning become the over-riding products
"sold" to ecotourists. These ecotourism "products" are based upon
preserving and protecting the original cultures and environments, not upon
transforming them into some Disneyland-like fantasy-world.
Before getting into the philosophical implications of this trendy niche and
its embedded relationship with science, technology and society issues, let
me attempt to engage your senses by describing a sojourn from my past
eco-adventures; it is excerpted from my upcoming book, The Least Imperfect
Path: A Global Journal for the Future.
Excerpt: In Search of Dragons
The sputter of a weather-worn fishing boat droned on as it bobbed toward
our group of twenty-five. We milled about restlessly on the ferry deck,
having finally arrived to Komodo Island after a seemingly endless, steamy
ferry ride across the Flores Sea. I had begun to wonder if this mysterious
island with Dragons ever existed.
The approaching fishing boat acted as a makeshift shuttle--once a day, six
days a week--to carry people (not the catch of the day) from the rendezvous
with the big ferry to one of Indonesia's most isolated islands. The
distant-sounding chug of the boat's engines teased our patience as it
struggled against the hidden currents beneath the wide mouth of the bay.
Ten minutes later we were on board, heading to the island that I used to
read about in my biology books. I stared, mesmerized, at the savanna-like
island in the distance.
"Will be 1,000 rupiah," said one of the slender, dark-skinned Indonesians,
jolting me alert as he nudged my leg with his flip-flop sandal. His dark,
straight hair flowed in the wind as he squinted down at me. He wore a torn,
faded sarong wrapped around his waist, a partly buttoned shirt revealed the
shadow of a farmerOs tan "v" leading to his neck.
I proffered up my cash, putting the stack of hundreds in his outreached
hand and watched the forefinger with the characteristically long singular
fingernail close quickly over the money. After he had collected all the
passengers' money (25,000 rupiah), he contentedly, if not boastfully, took
two smokes on the front deck before the boat completed the thirty minute
final leg. I realized Marlboro Country included Komodo Island. Perhaps he
should audition for a TV commercial: shot as he saddled the railing on the
bow and puffed energetically. No American Marlboro Man could have done
better at balancing with the rocking of the boat.
As I first learned in India and Nepal, the U.S. dollar was again king here.
It could buy entire fruit salads for pennies and a night's stay for a
couple of bucks. In this case the thirty minute ride cost a mere fifty
cents. This tourist money seemed to mean a lot to the fisherman: more
cigarettes or a new motor for the boat. In talking with a ranger in the
seaside village of Sape the day before, I knew none of the money went to
conservation of the island. I came across this practice in developing
countries so often that I called it "nature profiteering." It usually ended
in bankruptcy of both the resources and people for whom it provided nominal
sustenance. Bukit Lawang on Sumatra Island was headed in this
direction--fast. I remembered such developments in the Thar desert of India
and along the mountain trails in Nepal. The local people could not see the
long-term effects and impact, only the short-term profits collected from
tourists eager to ogle nature or lead the way to Western "development."
During our long ferry ride, I had passed the hours discussing our global
adventures with David. He was a simple man--a carpenter by trade--but held
a zeal for living, for meeting new people, for exploring far off lands. Our
common passion for the wild--our love of nature--cemented our friendship.
By being in this environment, we both felt more alive and better connected
with ourselves and the world around us. Immersion in nature reminded us of
our origins, our place on this planet.
It shocked me to realize how far I had let myself slip away from this real
world. Back in Chicago I had entered an environment-controlled,
freon-cooled, elevator-automated, electronic-operated, and deadline-based
life at the advertising agency. Time was of the essence--and valued only in
dollars and cents. From the phone, fax, and file cabinets to the MSG-laden
fast food, I was living not in the so-called "real world," but rather in an
artificial one. I had become "un-natural" due to societal expectations. My
direction had not been from within; there was no true purpose that I could
call my own. I was asleep--unconscious--mentally and soulfully dead. There
was no balance between nature and culture, just an obsession to produce the
best advertising in the world, bar none! I remember many Chicago days when
I arrived and left in the dark, never peeking out the window to appreciate
the sun's warm glow.
Komodo meant my escape from the modern, developed world and from the masses
of humanity with whom I had moved among for the past few months. Perhaps
here I could better understand the diversity of nature and its ecosystems
in a place more remote than any other I had ever visited. Why should we
care about the survival of the Dragons? ... or the preservation of rain
forests? I intuitively thought it wise to care for that of which one is a
part. Yet more of the planet around me was noticeably showing signs of
unnatural decay, of misuse, and of waste. By visiting this island, I hoped
to understand some of the roots of our global crisis from an ecological
standpoint.
Silent--worn down from the ferry ride, the sun, and the heat--we patiently
waited out our shuttled passage. Like the rest of the passengers, I too
came to Komodo hoping to catch a glimpse of the "ora," the Indonesian name
for the Dragons. The only survivor of carnivorous lizards that thrived in
Asia 130 million years ago, the Dragons promised a sense of discovery, if
not novelty. Neither David nor I had the slightest clue of what to expect.
We had our old info sheets and guide books in case we'd be on our own as
soon as setting foot on the island.
The boat swung around the point, over lucid blue-green water so clear it
seemed we might be floating on a rare form of liquid oxygen. Who needs
goggles, I thought, peering down like the rest of the passengers into the
living world of color and coral. The Indonesians seemed either to stare off
into nowhere, or steal glances at the women with bare shoulders, frazzled
hair and fancy designer sunglasses.
I watched the glistening waters as the sea shelf appeared from the dark
blue abyss. I looked up to the land of the lost--lost in a time when there
were no power lines, smokestacks, automobiles, or high-rise beach resorts.
Like stepping back in time to an age of dinosaurs and giant spiders, the
island promised to fill a wild, untamed void in my life. The deep blue
water of the bay calmly licked the rim of whiteness that nearly encircled
us. Nature's womb warmed our spirits. A strip of palm forests met the
beach. The parched hillsides steeply zigzagged up into the deep blue sky
which served as a backdrop. Yellow-green grasses covered the distant
mountains, interspersed with fan-leafed lontar palms. Except for the
sections of green forest near the small dock, everything else was colored
by burnt-brown grasses and thickets.
I discovered that in meeting the demand for smoking, the Indonesians
adapted the lontar palm leaves, originally used for the ancient books on
Bali, to roll cigarettes. Instead of reading from the leaves, they now
smoked them. In a nation with an illiteracy rate of over 50%, the leaves,
once used for writing, were now smoked thanks to innovation and economic
forces. This was another mirage of progress, similar to the Indian and
Nepalese use of old books to create envelopes or packages for fried bananas
and spices. All I could do was wonder how humanity could be fooled so
easily--myself included.
The wildness and remoteness of the place were awesome. I could see a few
simple bamboo houses on stilts and the crisscross of paths to the cabins.
It was as if our group had been invited to visit Robinson Crusoe's solitary
island and stay in his bungalow. Despite being with my group, an incredible
feeling of isolation briefly overtook me. At about the same time, however,
nature seemed to draw me into one of its few remaining gardens unmarred by
an adversarial and domination-bent human presence. A harmony and a natural
peace existed on the island, even though the ecosystem was very different
from the lush, tropical rain forests I hiked a week before. A natural
communion replaced my feelings of isolation. The air buzzed with
enthusiastic insects savoring my salty skin.
It didn't take long for our group to check into accommodations: wooden
multi-room cabins on stilts. They reminded me of the crudely built barracks
I had seen in the old black and white W.W. I movies when I was growing up.
The walls and floors never fit together at right angles, thus leaving
cracks of light or slivers of the ground below. My cabin, like a room in a
funhouse, slanted more than twenty degrees downward. The comical design
probably resulted from soil erosion and poorly conceived construction.
The cabins also included squat toilets and bucket-shower wash rooms. I
learned that the luxury of full plumbing was recently made available by the
rangers after they discovered a water source for the area and decided to
pump the water into the cabins. The water still wasnOt safe for drinking,
but we all knew that before setting foot in Indonesia or, for that matter,
anywhere else in South East Asia.
Bottled water, imported Coca-Cola, and beer were the potable beverages for
Western tastes and therefore, costly. I cheated by using my Katadyn Water
Filter to safely create drinking water for myself, my budget leaving me
little choice to do otherwise. The Indonesians, Indians, Egyptians, and
Thai have all received the short end of the stick by not having the
plentiful supply of drinkable water that we have, even in most of the
poorest parts of the United States.
The cost of our rustic cabin lodging was a government controlled 5,500
rupiah, about $3.00--a token payment to sleep on nature's doorstep. The
door to our cabin led directly up the hillside and supposedly to 2,500
Dragons.
While checking in, we had also registered to see the Komodo Dragon feeding
the following morning. I signed up for the 6:30 a.m. feeding, the later one
already full. My anticipation had been fueled over the past few days by the
incessant shouts of "Hey mister! You see Komodo Dragon?! You see Ora?" by
hoards of Indonesians that often crowded around me at markets or
restaurants. They had grown accustomed to Westerners venturing off the
beaten path to see the prehistoric-like reptiles.
When the Dragons were first introduced to the world in P.A. Owens' book, On
A Large Varanus Species From The Island Of Komodo, in 1912, I doubt that
many of the scientific community showed real interest. These Dragons were
so far away and unrelated to the lives of most people. The Dragons existed
merely as myth until the turn of the century when pearl fishermen made a
forced landing during a storm only to discover other dangers awaited them
on the island. But times have changed; in 1991, the island hosted 13,269
recorded visitors. The government refused to turn any fee-paying visitors
away--only to restrict the number of tourists per feeding to thirty.
Considering the island's remoteness, this count was indeed significant,
given the limited resources to handle the increasing flow of tourists. To
complicate matters, I learned that the extra cost of the guide fee was
apparently a levy for President Suharto and the Department of Tourism.
This, even though it was a governmental body completely separate from the
Department of Forestry (so-called P.H.P.A. in Indonesian) which tried to
protect and preserve the park.
The only park regulations were for the tourists to remain near the camp
boundaries or on the beach due to the danger of the Dragons. If we wanted
to go hiking, we had to hire a ranger guide to take us into the back
country. Curious and slightly concerned about the Dragon danger, I asked
the ranger at the check-in office if anyone had ever been attacked and
killed.
"We had this man in 1976, from Denmark. He disappeared without any trace."
His English came slowly, but with confidence.
"But do you think the dragons got him?" I pressed--remembering all the
warnings I read about the strait's current and undertow, and wondering if
the man decided to go for a swim.
He sternly replied, "Tourism is very important business to us and our
government. We are responsible for your safety, otherwise we get in
trouble." His voice lightened slightly. He smiled, "The Dragons are very
big and have been known to swipe goats from under people's homes in the
fishing village. As for me, I don't go out without one of those." He
pointed to large, thick sticks in a rack beside the trail on which we first
approached the settlement.
I noticed that he skirted my question and decided right then and there that
I would not go out without one of the "Dragon sticks." Satisfied, not with
his answer but with the solution to a potential problem, I headed off to
the beach with the spirit of a child. I was only aware of being alive--that
was all that seemed to matter. Just nature and I....
A Marketing Gimmick
The cultural and environmental damage caused by mass tourism--whether from
ignorance or jumping on the bandwagon to lure tourists dollars--is found,
sadly, throughout the world. As previously described in my journey, the
political, economic or developmental interests often over-ride ecological
or community needs. After talking with the local village chief, I
discovered that the village was barred by the government from operating
anything more than the boat shuttle service to the island. The government
didn't want competition which would lessen the steady stream of cash
pouring into Komodo Island National Park coffers--coffers which emptied
hundreds of miles away in Jakarta, the nation's capitol.
Other exotic places like Jaisalmer, India, have also enticed increasing
numbers of travelers who search for remote destinations unmarred by
modernity and so-called "progress." Many adventurers search for nature or
cultures lost in time--forgotten--and seek to live the pages of a National
Geographic magazine. Discovery is the prize for which many people are
willing to pay a premium. So the camel safaris leaving from the desert
outpost city of Jaisalmer have mushroomed. On the roads one can now see
trails of dust from the jeep 4x4s tracking their way into their touted
"exclusive special places" in the desert. The night before, the travelers
might have slept in a Maharaja's palace turned four-star hotel. Hot
showers, imported Western foods and other Western "needs" stress already
fragile local infrastructure and resources.
The novelty of these trips, however, have become an illusion, like a mirage
in the desert. Villages have been overrun by camera-toting tourists and
Rajput snake-charmers have sold-out to the profit--sharing plan. Some
"unique" safaris are so well known and their routes so familiar that local
villagers visit the resting points to sell imported Coca-Cola and British
biscuits. And the garbage--plastic bottles and all--go up with the flames
before the open pit fire is stamped out.
As fewer rocks remain unturned and cultures begin to trade their
traditional kurta for a Mickey Mouse t-shirt, many of the more exotic
destinations will lose their initial attractiveness as a tourist
destination. For economies rooted in tourism, this spells no uncertain
demise for tourism and for the quality of life among indigenous
generations.
Paradoxically, the parts of the world most sought for ecotourism adventures
are exactly those nations most in need of foreign currency, infrastructure
development, and employment opportunities. More often than not, tourism is
seen as less damaging than the alternatives of mining, logging, or
intensive large-scale farming. However, unmanaged tourism development and
cultural backlash have caused havoc as tourists probe into even the most
remote jungle domains in search of Shaman wisdom or a glimpse of the nearly
extinct Orangutans.
A Conservation Ethic
All is not doom and gloom. Compared to the ravaging effects of posh
high-rise resorts, lavish buffets, and the amenity-plus features of mass
tourism, ecotourism is by far the lesser of the evils. For example, Cancun
is one of the more widely recognized destinations of
conspicuous-consumption tourism; whereas Harmony (A Center for the Study of
Sustainable Resort Design on St. John's in the U.S. Virgin Islands) is
heralded as an example of sound ecotourism development. Harmony, as well as
other ecotourism destinations, has spread the conservation movement by
providing an experience in which Western tourists become more sensitive to
local and environmental issues. Happily, their spending bankrolls
restoration and preservation projects so that the ecological draws remain
for future visitors to experience. Echoing this trend, Dr. Stephen McCool
of the University of Montana's Institute for Tourism and Recreation
Resources states "American travel consumers are more discerning and
sensitive than ever about ecological issues and the impact their recreation
activities have on the environment." (McCool in Going Green, 1993, p. 36)
Increasingly, a conservation ethic and a viable process of development have
emerged from the ecotourism movement, or perhaps visa versa. The ecotourism
ethic has been defined by The Ecotourism Society to mean: "responsible
travel that conserves the natural environs and sustains the well-being of
local people. Ecotourism offers travelers the means to assist personally
and locally in the conservation of threatened environments and to support
communities directly that are seeking viable economic alternatives to
cycles of poverty and environmental destruction" (The Ecotourism Society).
This non-profit organization is working to raise public support for
implementing ecotourism principles and practices around the world.
Mirroring The Ecotourism Society's initiatives is work advanced by The
Nature Conservancy in the Podocarpus National Park in southern Ecuador. A
cloud forest lodge was opened as a haven for researchers, tourists, and
international bird-watchers alike in a park known for more varied species
of birds than any other protected area in the world. Use of the multi-room
facility is included with the $10 admission to the park; the majority of
the fee is then pumped back into the park and its preservation. The Nature
Conservancy, INEFAN (the Ecuador park management department), ARCOIRIS (a
local conservation organization), World Wildlife Fund, and the U.S. Peace
Corps all had a hand in developing self-guided walking trails and the
facilities.
The completion of the lodge highlights a shift from past thinking about
nature conservation. No longer are the important ecological areas, animal
species or threatened indigenous cultures to be saved in isolation. Rather,
economic and social considerations--alternatives in development--are being
explored and remarkably, partnerships formed from previously adversarial
foes. These programs work more in sync with conservation and recognize the
needs of the communities surrounding the threatened areas. This same
approach is being used in The Nature Conservancy's collaborative and
community-wide development of ecotourism opportunities along Virginia's
Eastern Shore.
An Elusive Solution to Global Issues
Because tourism is like a chameleon, it is increasingly important to
understand this industry's role in preserving our planet and peoples. The
practice of stewardship through community-initiated and collaborative
partnerships is in recognition that we are a part of--not apart from--the
natural ecosystems which sustain all life. An ecotourism enterprise, then,
protects and preserves the cultural and biological diversity of the planet
while benefiting the local community and the tourists.
As one well publicized example, consider "the only luxury resort in the
world operating exclusively on sun and wind power" on St. John's called
Harmony. It's creator, Stanley Selengut (who first created a sustainable,
ecologically sensitive campground in the 1970's) has recently completed
this luxury resort made from garbage and environmentally sensitive
materials. Even the decorative artwork on the walls came from Costa Rica's
Center for the Preservation of Indigenous Art. It's an "ecotourist" base
from which to explore the natural beauty of the tropical forests bustling
with wildlife, immaculate beaches, and vibrant coral reefs--an adventure
made possible without plunder and detrimental ecological impact. What he
has done is successfully apply stewardship to the economic laws of supply
and demand.
In a less capitalistic variation to this strategy, The Conservation Lodge
Foundation, a non-profit organization established by the Pew Charitable
Trusts, is also developing effective ways to use ecotourism as a means for
protecting critical ecosystems and the unique biological and cultural
resources they sustain. The objectives of the ecolodges created will be
environmental protection and public education. What is common among both
efforts is their non-consumptive approach to development.
Conclusion
The ideas behind ecotourism are not new. Rooted in the conservation and
environmental movements in the United States over the past 150
years--spurred by the writings of Thoreau, Muir, and before them, Buddhist
and other philosophical ideologies--ecotourism is a new application for an
age-old concept of stewardship. It recognizes the interconnections of all
life and the importance of maintaining a balance between human needs and
those of existing ecosystems. Perhaps Aldo Leopold's famous "Land Ethic"
best captures the philosophical essence of stewardship: "a thing is right
when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic
community...it is wrong if it does otherwise." In diversity there is
stability. Ecotourism is really nothing more than the application of this
philosophy to the self-enriching discovery made possible through travel. It
is a process and an ethic, not an end in itself.
The concerted effort which I have discussed (by policy makers, businesses,
recreation managers and organizations such as the World Wildlife Fund and
Conservation International) to define and make ecotourism a mainstream
practice is promising. We in the Western industrialized nations have an
incredible opportunity for restorative and regenerative change through
ecotourism. There seem little doubt that tourism will continue to grow; the
most important question remains: Will it be ecologically responsible and
sustainable?
The responsibility clearly rests with ourselves to care for an
environmental and cultural diversity which historically we have used merely
to serve our needs--and our needs only. Ecotourism, as a model, process and
ethic, offers an opportunity to put respect for our earth into practice in
a way that all people can enjoy its beauty and benefits. That's my dream;
and this dream will not die!
End Notes
* During, A. T. (1992). How much is enough? The Consumer society and the
future of the earth. New York: W. W. Norton.
* Ecotourism Society. P.O. Box 755, N. Bennington VT 05257.
* Going green: the ecotourism resource for travel agents. (1993,
October). Tour & Travel News.
* Ivanko, J. D. (1996). The Least Imperfect Path--A Global Journal for
the Future. Royal Oak, MI: Paradigm Press Ltd.
* Leopold, A. (1966). A sand county almanac. New York: Ballantine.
* Orr, D. W. (1992). Ecological literacy: Education and the transition
to a postmodern world. Albany: State University of New York.
* Boo, E. (1990). Ecotourism: the potentials and pitfalls. (Vols. 1 &
2). Washington DC: World Wildlife Fund.
* Motavalli, J., & Ivanko, J. D. (1995, April/May). Transforming travel:
"eco-tourism" is more than a buzzword; it's a seismic shift in a
trillion-dollar industry. E-The Environmental Magazine, 38-45.
* Palmer, C. (producer). (1992). The environmental tourist [videotape],
National Audubon Society Specials, Washington DC: Public Broadcasting
Service.
* Ziffer, K. (1989). Ecotourism: The uneasy alliance. Washington DC:
Conservation International.
John D. Ivanko may be contacted at:
Globetrotter Photography
7843 County P
Browntown WI 53522, U.S.A.
E-mail: jivanko@aol.com
WWW site: http://members.aol.com/jivanko/public/globetrotterphoto.html