| From
Tehelka Magazine, Vol 5, Issue 29, Dated July 26, 2008 |
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| CURRENT
AFFAIRS |
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kerala
tourism |
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Tears In God's Own Country
As the Kerala
government goes on an overdrive to sell tourism, its major destinations
are beginning to resemble garbage dumps
KA SHAJI
Thiruvananthapuram
IT’S BEEN two years since the World Travel
and Tourism Council’s ill-fated shortlisting
of Kerala, along with Greece and Mexico,
for its Destination of the Year award.
The nomination drew widespread civil society
criticism, which protested that Kerala was
no model of sustainable tourism by any international
standard, and that tourism had in fact
done very little to ensure “maximum benefit to
local communities”, a key criterion for the
award. They also highlighted the massive degradation
tourism promotion has wrought on Kerala’s
highly sensitive ecology. The council finally
dropped the nomination, dealing a temporary
setback, at least, to the vaulting ambitions of
Kerala’s tourism stakeholders.
In the months since, the divide between
local communities and the state’s tourism industry
seems only to have grown. Powerful
lobbies have made rampant encroachments on
forest and revenue land, targeting hill stations,
backwater regions, coastal areas, wildlife sanctuaries
and small land holdings owned by Adivasis
and other economically disadvantaged
groups. To take the Munnar hill station case
alone, encroachment here was as much as two
lakh acres, according to government figures.
Last week, Chief Minister VS Achuthanandan
admitted in the Assembly that last year’s
much-hyped eviction drive had retrieved only
15,000 acres in Munnar and 3,000 acres in the
rest of the state. The numbers, however, do not
tally with those of the state Revenue Ministry,
according to which only 4,500 acres have been
retrieved in Munnar. The anti-encroachment
drive, meanwhile, has died an unmourned
death as vested interests managed to influence
mainstream parties in both the ruling front
and the Opposition.
A major casualty of the damage done to
Kerala’s unique backwater region is the Vembanad
Lake, the largest in the Alappuzha-Kottayam
region, the setting for Arundhati Roy’s
novel The God of Small Things. According to
fisheries and backwaters expert Dr S. Bijoy
Nandan, about 65 percent of the lake has fallen
victim to reclamation projects. His finding is
corroborated by the Kerala Council for Science,
Technology and the Environment, which
reports that the state has only 23 percent of its
backwaters left.
The famous Kumarakom bird sanctuary in
Kottayam is another martyr to flawed concepts
of tourism promotion. Situated near Aymanam
village, where Roy’s novel unfolds, it
became a must-see over the last few years.
Three years ago, large stretches of mangrove
forests in the sanctuary were destroyed by government
agencies to ensure “easy visibility of birds to visiting tourists”. As a result, the number
of bird species in the sanctuary has come
down from 189 to 66. “If this continues,
Kumarakom will have no birds in another
decade,” foresees Kerala’s well-known birdwatcher
PA Uthaman. Another warning comes
from environmentalist MK Prasad, who points
to the horrifying shrinkage of the mangroves
from 70,000 hectares to just one percent of
their former size. “Hotels and holiday resorts
have mushroomed in reclaimed wetlands
which were once part of the mangrove ecosystems.
Nobody is bothered about the mangroves
in Kerala now,” he says.
In the coastal region, illegal construction has
made a mockery of all laws to curb environmental
degradation. The tourism lobby is also
alleged to have forced traditional fishermen to
quit their lands and livelihoods by inducing
them to sell their usually minuscule properties
at throwaway prices. Fisherman Tenson, 52,
used to own about a fifth of an acre near Alappuzha’s
famous Mararikulam beach. He lost it all
a few months ago when he sold it for a pittance.
“Thirty-eight men came to my house one morning
to convince me over three-and-a-half hours
to sell. How can a poor, unlettered fisherman like
me resist such tactics?” Tenson’s eyes brim with
tears. “Later, after I’d thought about it, I wanted
to give back the advance they’d given me and get
out of the agreement. But even though I tried
continuously for six months, which was the period
in which I could walk out of the agreement,
they never showed up. Finally, I was forced to
transfer my property into their hands.” Hundreds
like Tenson have been rendered bereft of their
centuries-old livelihood in coastal Kerala. Dalits
and tribals in hill stations like Wayanad, Idukki
and Palakkad have met the same fate.
Meanwhile, says fishermen’s leader Lal Koyilparambil,
the privatisation of Mararikulam’s
“public” beach is almost complete with almost
90 percent of it in the hands of private entrepreneurs.
While the Kerala government continues
to tout Mararikulam as a shining example of
“responsible tourism”, the beach’s erstwhile fishermen
have been dispossessed forever of the
lands and sea they once called their own.
Another pet Kerala concept that’s bitten the
dust is eco-tourism. “Come to Wayanad and
you’ll see the mushrooming number of resorts
close to pristine forests. They offer illicit liquor
and wild game meat along with opportunities
to sexually exploit tribal girls,” says firebrand
tribal leader CK Janu, who has campaigned
hard against the resorts along with her outfit,
the Adivasi Gothra Maha Sabha.
“Kerala’s long-term sustainability as a
tourist paradise is under threat,” says
Sumesh Mangalassery, a tourism researcher
and head of the NGO Kabani
— The Other Direction. “Even the government
is now admitting the fact that major tourist
destinations suffer from a host of serious problems:
piling of waste and garbage, water and
air pollution, loss of biodiversity, lack of landuse
and infrastructure planning, encroachment,
unauthorised constructions and
drinking water shortage are just some.” A sad
pass for a state once rated by National
Geographic Traveller as among the 50 mustsee
destinations of a life time.
Sewage is another menace. State Pollution
Control Board (PCB) studies have found that
100 ml of sewage water discharged from the
houseboats’ so-called “bio-toilets” contain
9,000 to 30,000 coli-form bacteria. The permissible
level is 50 in 100 ml of drinking water
and 500 in 100 ml bathing water.
ACCORDING TO THE PCB,
one million cubic metres of sewage is generated in the state’s coastal
areas, of which 30,000 cubic metres reach the surface of water bodies.
The backwaters in Kochi alone receive 60 tonnes of sewage from the city.
Streets in major tourist destinations like Alappuzha and Kochi now resemble
garbage dumps, leading to the outbreak of epidemic diseases like chikungunya
in post-monsoon periods over the last few years.
When contacted, Kerala State Pollution Control Board chairman
G. Rajmohan said the board is in consultation with the tourism department
and local bodies to evolve a permanent mechanism to minimise pollution.
He also claimed that efforts were already on to initiate legal measures
against large-scale violaters. The board can act tough only with the help
of local bodies and so its success depends on their sincerity, he said.
For future action, says Kerala Home and Tourism Affairs
Minister Kodiyeri Balakarishnan, “The state’s acceptance of responsible
tourism as a motto is part of efforts to save the situation. Nature will
be protected and haphazard growth of tourism will not be encouraged.”
But the government has made a poor showing so far. As
Kerala Congress (Secular) MLA PC George points out, “The ruling CPMand
CPI have leased 90 percent of their multi-storeyed party office buildings
in Munnar to private hands to run resorts. The irony is that both party
offices are situated on encroached lands, something the land mafia cites
to justify their own encroachments. So, just who of these will initiate
the rectification drive?” In all likelihood, neither. •
CONTACT
WRITER AT
shaji@tehelka.com
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