What To Leave Behind When You Travel
The expansive views around the coasts of Nusa Penida, Bali
In whatever terms you deem fit, you’ve arrived. Wittingly or not, you’re about to leave an impression on your host country, be it on one of the 54 ethnic groups of Vietnam, the in-transition societies of Myanmar or the tourist-run beach towns of Indonesia. In visits to lands like these, where cultures are rich and curiosity richer, how much of an outsider footprint is too much?
During my trip to Nusa Penida, an island off southeast Bali, Indonesia, boundaries were being explored.
Nusa Penida, an island about a hundred times smaller than Bali, is known for its strong spiritual vibe among the local Indonesians. It teems with natural, rugged landscapes, vibrant dive sites, and its location as a spot to view manta rays and the Mola Mola (Ocean sunfish) has primed it to step into the shoes of its resort-style sister island, Nusa Lembongan. My arrival was welcomed, in part because the Penidans are hungry for more tourist traffic: they think more tourists will lead to Denpasar-like infrastructure, and therefore the globally-coveted First World status. It was clear, however, in order to accommodate to tourist traffic, the natives were quickly losing their culture.
“While leaving tokens for hosts can be thoughtful, ask yourself if they really need it, what it would do for them and where the gifts will end up. ”
Two Western restaurants and a seasonal bar (opened by an Australian who keeps it open only when he’s on the island) can now be found on Nusa Penida – “There will be a demand for it, and we have to be ready,” predicted Wayan Terima, a 52-year-old native, of the incoming tourist traffic. Before the traffic piles in, plastic bottles have already piled up next to sacred ancient sites, and where there is now turquoise-green-coloured natural coves at Angel’s Billabong, a run-of-the-mill resort might get erected. Centuries-old stone houses are knocked down for concrete homes, and warungs (family-owned casual shops) are being squeezed out of their traditional trades.
“What else can be improved about our island?” I was asked by another Wayan. Wayan Darmawan is part-owner of sustainably-built Full Moon Bungalows, in Ped, Nusa Penida. With the help of his foreign business partners, his small – but quickly expanding – hotel was built with locally-sourced sustainable coconut palm and teak roofs, held up by bamboo walls. That sort of partnership and influence, I thought, is the kind that will ensure the long-term survival of the Penidans: it looks at what the locals have and have been doing for centuries, and encourages them to continue using their resources and skills.
Leave encouragement
“I want to learn more about your culture,” I replied Darmawan, adding that the unadulterated parts of his rich culture and way of life was why I wanted to experience Nusa Penida.
The idea of improving a place to better cater to foreign cultures is a fairly modern and subjective concept. It also has been the undoing of many native ones – look at Kuta in Bali. Should Daxu – an ancient town 40 minutes southeast of Guilin, China – have its thousand-year-old worn bluestone pavements and Ming Dynasty docks removed to make way for more modern infrastructure, the ancient town would lose its charm and character. The picturesque destination would then be of little interest to visitors, and the local villagers will have less reasons to continue making their traditional productsto sell as souvenirs.
In culture-rich towns like Daxu, being appreciative and encouraging towards the natives and their cultures always help. That could be put across by purchasing the preserved chillies and garlic made using family recipes by Daxu townfolk, and as simple as listening to the townfolk’s stories attentively.
A face-tattooed lady of the Chin Village in Myanmar
Leave behind fewer artifacts
Minimising your footprint is not just about picking up your trash, it is also about exchanging as few souvenirs as possible.
While leaving tokens for hosts can be thoughtful, ask yourself if they really need it, what it would do for them and where the gifts will end up. For example, the face-tattooed older ladies and the children of the Chin Villages in Myanmar do not have proper facilities to dispose of trash, so while fresh fruit and rice would help them feed their families, it is better for the giver to do away with the plastic packaging.
At places like the Kim Boi hot springs – two hours southwest of Hanoi – taking your trash with you and disposing of them at proper receptacles, would not only help the people preserve their environment, it would also help keep these natural spots clean and open to the local communities.
When in doubt, paying for your host’s services and covering their costs is enough. That money will go a long way, in whatever manner the locals deem fit.
Leave mindfully
Finally, to travel well is to travel consciously.
Travel with your eyes, mind and heart open: be more observant and more mindful of the lifestyle and practices of the locals. Ask questions, but try to refrain from comparing and making judgment; while most of the world prize brilliant white teeth, the blackening of teeth through the chewing of betel nut leaves has been a standard of beauty for the Lu Hill tribe near Sapa, North Vietnam, for generations. The well-travelled know that it comes to cultures and boundaries, there is no clear black or white – your smile is just as precious as theirs.
This was first published in the March/April 2016 issue of Tiger Tales, Tiger Air’s in-flight magazine.
