By Cherie McCosker
30 May 2007
Recently I dragged my weary body back to Kathmandu, after following the pilgrimage trail to the holy Gusainkunda lake, at an altitude of 4200m. An incredible journey, but that is another tale.
Given the hiking lasted 4-6 hours each day, and little other activities were on offer except to drink tea, meditate, read a book or write in a diary, my mind inevitably turned towards responsible trekking.
Before leaving for the trek, I had diligently visited the office of KEEP (Kathmandu Environmental Education Project), and thus was armed with information on how to be a responsible trekker. My backpack was laden with iodine tablets, so that I didn't drink boiled water; I ordered dalbhat for every meal and ate the same time as my guide and porter. The hot showers to soothe my weary muscles in sub-freezing temperatures were sourced from solar hot water facilities.
All of these measures revolved around the reduction of burning precious wood from the forests, as apparently the tourism industry is resulting in deforestation at an alarming rate. I was trekking to an area that is slightly off the beaten track, and I knew many of these measures related to the Annapurna region, however I wanted to be as responsible as possible.
To be responsible, I was meant to choose guesthouses that had kerosene cookers instead of using wood stoves. So, on the long bus ride to Dhunche, I asked my trekking guide if that would be possible, my heart sinking when he replied that it wasn't possible on our trek.
At first I felt a bit helpless - I was doing everything else right, including picking up litter from the paths to carry out. I felt terrible that I was helping contribute to deforestation on my pilgrimage.
Perhaps to ease my guilt, I reflected upon the logic behind the 'wood' versus 'kerosene' that the NGOs had decided upon. I had just climbed up vastly steep paths - exceeding the recommended altitude level by about 3 times (there were no other options of places to stay). Therefore, I was at risk of extreme altitude sickness. So too would the porters who would carry in the kerosene.
Tracing the kerosene back to its source, I pondered whether this was a more responsible option. With a labor-intensive and environmentally-damaging extraction, not to mention the considerable land miles covered to transport the kerosene to Kathmandu, and then the 10 hour bus trip to Dhunche - I wondered at the carbon credit chalked up even before a porter could precariously balance the heavy load on the upwards journey.
I wondered whether NGOs such as Tourism Concern, KEEP and other groups had factored this in (and I acknowledged that I was relatively new to the Nepal scene and they were the experts - so who was I to judge them).
At the teahouses, whilst warming up with a steaming cup of fruit cordial, I paid attention to the wood stoves being used, which also doubled as wood-heaters.
It was freezing in these altitudes. Who are the tourists and NGOs to decide that the locals shouldn't use wooden heaters? I thought that was double-standards considering the amount of fuel we burn in our own countries on airconditioning and heating for personal consumption.
The stoves were large and took up most of the kitchen. Presumably to replace them with kerosene cookers would cost of lot of money. Who was expected to cover this cost?
There must be other ways - it seemed to me that the locals, who are ingenious at recycling simple things like paint cans into meaningful appliances, were in a very good position to take custodian of the forests. Their culture is grounded in respect for nature and the meaning of resources - given their isolation they had to make do with what nature provided them.
It certainly begged the question of whether sustainable use and regeneration of the forests was just as feasible as relying on forces of globalisation to bring in kerosene, which in turn had other environmental considerations.
Upon my return to Kathmandu, I went into KEEPs office and shared my thoughts with them.
They acknowledged that it wasn't Gusainkunda that they were targeting so much as Annapurna. They also conceded that it would cost a lot to change the stoves, yet they hadn't actually talked to hotel owners - but were hoping that tourists consumer behaviour would dictate the change. They also conceded that it takes much effort and risk to the porters to walk in the kerosene. But they said that forests take a long time to regenerate.
I was confused. I understood the argument, however had alternative options been thought through in regards to the use of fuel?
Is it possible to sustainably use forests - using fallen logs as fuel, or look into endemic fast growing trees with no negative impact upon the habitat? What about other renewable energy methods - such as biogas? That would kill two birds with one stone - energy plus a solution to waste management and sanitation. Or it is more feasible to have a mix of wood stove for heat and kerosene for cooking, but again, who would pay for the kerosene cookers - are microfinance options available?
With the days of introspection and reflection I had whilst hiking, I realised that responsible behaviour in tourism had many shades of grey. One can't consider only the environment without looking at other factors such as social and cultural impacts.
Yet, the most important lesson gained was those involved in the responsible tourism industry can't afford to be dogmatic.
It was clear that the teahouse owners in this particular region hadn't been consulted on the use of fuel nor given the opportunity to come with their own solutions on the problem (as after all, they know best about their own resources).
Yet, ironically, their businesses and likelihood were at risk of boycott by responsible tourists. It seems that for tourism to be truly responsible, it is imperative that the host destination community members are consulted and have a say in the development of tourism guidelines.
After all - tourists come and go, however it is their culture and livelihoods at stake. We must close the gap and make the communities part of the solution for responsible tourism.