“As locals, many of us were opposed to the national park because it cut  off our right to the forest and our livelihood had depended on it. 

It was also the start of tourists and researchers starting to trickle in this region. A few years down the line, I met Stephan when he was talking about forming a cooperative. To me it seemed like a reasonable way to carry out a business and so I joined.

In the beginning, we would enrol anyone and everyone who was interested as a member of the cooperative. But it has been the ones most in need – the ones without any stable income or alternate means – who’ve given it their most.

All our trekking guides have to complete their training from a mountaineering institute. It’s very risky otherwise – even for us as a business, the reputation is at stake.

I had accompanied Keshavji and Stephan to New Delhi after Himalayan Ecotourism had been shortlisted for the Indian Responsible Tourism Awards by Outlook Responsible Tourism. 

Receiving two awards, both of which came to us as a surprise, in a room filled with the who’s who from the tourism sector was not only an honour, but the greatest recognition to date of what we, as a unit, not individuals, had been able to achieve in spite of the hardships and the resistance from local elite.

The lockdown changed things for us overnight but between the reforestation project and some work on our own farms, we’ve mostly been able to manage making ends meet.

We spent a bulk of our time during the monsoon season replanting mostly deodar (Himalayan cedar), silver oak, apricot, and a few persimmon varieties. We will undertake a similar replantation drive during the winter and continue along the treeline in Pekhri.”

Meet Stephan of Himalayan Ecotourism

Read more about Himalayan Ecotourism

"I got my degree in Marine Science from University Malaysia Sabah. My passion for the sea came up during my foundation year at the university, when I was exposed to other career options aside from being a doctor! In my family, it was either you become a doctor, lawyer or engineer. But one of the lecturers opened my eyes to the opportunity to explore the marine world. 

“One of the main problems around the Johor Marine Park is pollution due to plastics and ‘ghost nets’ (abandoned fishing nets). In 2019, just from the six islands where we do regular beach and underwater clean ups – Tengah, Besar, Hujong, Mensirip, Harimau and Gua – we’ve collected more than 11 tonnes of ghost nets, plastics and other debris. On Harimau alone, we collected two tonnes of ghost nets and abandoned fishing gear such as fish cages.

Can you imagine what happens if ghost gear isn’t picked up? I’ve personally seen scars on dead fish that are trapped inside abandoned cages. These cages are often made from chicken coop wire, so it can be sharp as well. And when fish are trapped in there for an extended period of time, they get stressed and start to scratch themselves against the cages.

On the bright side, what has been encouraging to see is the impact from PEDAS – our multi-stakeholder environmental education programme in Mersing’s schools.

Every two months, PEDAS partners take turns to go into schools to teach students five modules on marine ecosystems, coral reefs, sea turtles, marine mammals and marine debris. The kids have no idea how beautiful Johor Marine Park actually is!

In 2019, PEDAS reached around 500 students across three primary schools and two secondary schools. And we’ve started to see a change in attitudes. For example, at SMK Sri Mersing, they’re limiting the usage of plastics in the school. Students have started bringing their own water bottles and even food containers to buy food from the canteen. And this change isn’t being enforced by us, but by the school. It’s great to see the school realise these everyday changes have an impact on the environment.”

Meet Cher of Batu Batu, and Poo Ker of Clean & Happy Recycling

Find out more about Batu Batu

"I used to run a driving school in Mersing before I started Clean & Happy Recycling 15 years ago.

“One day, I began to notice dumpsites in Mersing looked very bad. There was open burning all the time, and I saw too many recyclable items being thrown away.

I realised something must be done before it's too late. And that's when I had the idea of starting a recycling company.

Batu Batu is very active in recycling. Their team collects all recyclable items from the resort and the nearby beaches and sends it to us on a weekly basis.  

Sometimes I find it sad that it’s not Mersing locals who are actively recycling. I think one way to change that is to start with the schools.

Let’s say a school has 800 students. If each student brings 1kg of recyclable goods, the school can collect nearly a tonne of recyclable goods in just one day.

That’s why when I started Clean & Happy Recycling 15 years ago, I approached the local education department to get their support to place recycling bins in all the schools. It was great that they agreed.

So whenever there’s a significant amount of recyclable items at a school, we’ll turn up to weigh, collect and bring the items to my yard to segregate. Then we’ll give a token sum of money to the school.

But the awareness must also come from parents. We can start by teaching them how to reduce use of plastics, especially plastic bags. In Mersing, I’ve seen people buying a loaf of bread that’s already in plastic packaging – and they still want a plastic bag for it! Or just one can of soft drink – and they want a plastic bag for that.

It’s such a waste, especially when most plastic bags can’t be recycled. And even the ones that can be recycled often end up at the landfill. So we should really try our best not to use plastic bags. If possible, I would recommend a ban of plastic bags altogether.”

Meet Cher and Zam of Batu Batu 

Read more about Batu Batu

“Islands are like a microcosm of the world. So if I chuck rubbish or sewage into the sea around Tengah Island, we’ll see the impact really quickly. We’ll see the coral reefs dying. And if that happens, we’ll see the fish population decrease. We might stop seeing turtles coming to nest.

It dawned on us that people in towns and cities need to care about what’s out here, or the environment is going to get destroyed really fast. That’s when we started to think about how we could reach out to Mersing, the nearest town to us.

So my team and I came up with the idea of opening KakakTua, a guesthouse and community space in Mersing town, where we can run programmes to upskill locals, and so on, so they can benefit economically from the tourism that comes through Mersing.

Currently, 500,000 tourists visit the Johor islands and Tioman every year, but Mersing hardly benefits from that. Tourists literally get out of their car or taxi at the jetty, look for their boat, and off they go. And that’s a shame because the locals don’t get why the tourists come here – and they don’t see the fragility of the marine environment.

Practically speaking, KakakTua is also a benefit to Batu Batu, as our guests who arrive later in the day can choose to stay a night at KakakTua – and we’ll give them a little guide on where to go around Mersing town. Where the nice seafood restaurants are, where they can eat nice ikan bakar, perhaps even visit a nearby kampung. 

And then the next morning before setting off to Batu Batu, they can have roti canai at Rasa Sayang or head to Sri Mersing kopitiam for homemade custard tarts, boiled eggs and coffee.

The more we spend time in Mersing and hear stories from locals like Mr Lim Poo Ker, the more meaningful the town becomes. For instance, I never noticed the old Chinese medicinal shop until he pointed it out. And there’s the goldsmith – which has been around since 1935!

We believe that increasingly, tourists are looking for authenticity. And what’s authenticity? It’s looking into the soul of a place. Looking into the lives and listening to the stories of its people.

So we hope to create a really nice ecosystem of people who actually want to protect Mersing’s heritage, and then start working together to protect it.”

Meet Zam of Batu Batu and Poo Ker of Clean & Happy Recycling

Read more about Batu Batu

“Decotourism is about ‘travelling with purpose.’ It means minimal ecological footprint, substantial economic impact to the communities visited, and the mutual exchange of knowledge and culture. You come as a guest, and leave as family.

Our Lio identity can be summed up as lika, iné and oné: we are a people of one hearth, one mother and one house. We invite travellers to experience this through daily activities such as tending the garden, picking coffee, feeding pigs, or planting rice. Meanwhile, we also visit ancient villages, megalithic gravesites and hot springs.

Lio daily life is based on five relationships. The first is with God, which we call Du’a Gheta Lulu Wula, Ngga’e Ghale Wena Tana—Heavenly Father and Mother Earth. The others are relationships with the ancestors, nature, fellow humankind and the self.

Inspired by Joko Widodo’s 2013 presidential campaign,  the idea [for RMC Detusoko] popped one evening with friends around the bonfire, and started off as a literacy movement facilitating book donations from Java to local schools here. Over time, this developed into Remaja Mandiri Community (RMC, or Bahasa Indonesia for “self-sufficient youth community”)

I spent 2014 to 2015 studying Ecotourism Management in the US, and 2016 to 2017 in Ende working as a facilitator for Swisscontact’s rural community-based tourism and solid waste management projects. During that time, I remained active with RMC, and eventually moved back to Detusoko in 2018.  

My partner Eka Rajakopo and I started an English course, which children paid for by depositing recyclables in our waste bank. We had no donors, so Eka and I allocated part of our incomes to provide for RMC operations. That’s when we realised we needed a clearer direction. Hence we defined our four programmes: informal education, sustainable agriculture, social enterprise and Decotourism.

In five to ten years, I see RMC as a full-fledged training centre for local youth, and a business catering to international markets. Underlying this is the hope for our youth to return to the village and farm. Farmers are our future. It’s time for our youth to develop our own value-added products and services, and let our work do the talking.”

Read more about Decotourism

“I have known Gemar ji for more than 10 years now. So, when he had first mentioned to me this opportunity to be a guide, I was intrigued.

I live with my family which comprises my father, my brothers and their families. We are farmers and though this land looks arid to an outsider, we cultivate crops that are not water intensive. We have however recently invested in a borewell that allows us access to a more regular supply of water. We are primarily dependent on our farmlands. We cultivate to consume and occasionally sell our produce in the market.

That’s why this opportunity to become a local guide was of interest to me. It is because of this role that I have learnt English. I am now a lot more at ease and conversant with tourists and sharing with them the ways of our life here in the desert.

In some ways, being a guide also makes me want to be more in tune and alert about the on-goings within my village. It gives me an additional sense of purpose.

And the extra income, though seasonal, helps. I still continue to work with my family on our farm and tend to the goats on the days I take tourists around for the village walk. It means beginning my day a little earlier than otherwise but that’s okay.”

Read more about Hacra Dhani here

Meet Gemar of Hacra Dhani

“From my student days in Jodhpur city, I have felt a pull towards tourism. I would interact with tourists even back then, recommend local spots for them to go to and sometimes even accompany them like I did when I travelled to Delhi and then onwards to Himachal Pradesh with a French tourist.

But I knew that I wanted to do something here in my village. I knew nothing about rural tourism or responsible travel back then. All I knew was that I wanted to bring tourists here to experience a ‘living desert’ because the popular misconception is that a desert is just barren land where nothing grows or survives.

When I began setting Hacra up, there were no roads nor electricity here – let alone internet connectivity. I used to make trips to Jodhpur and spend some time at Internet cafes to reach out and respond to any queries about us. Later, I bought a second-hand laptop and set up a solar based internet router so I wouldn’t have to keep travelling to Jodhpur city.

It was a struggle getting guests initially. But I’ve been persistent and I’ve learnt by doing. I also built a team so that I had some support and could offer others from the village to also earn some additional income during the season. 

Today there are four guides, eight camel breeders/herders, and a group of women who assist with housekeeping and kitchen-work that comprise of the team at Hacra. These mud house rooms (dhanis) have been collaboratively constructed with the help of others from the village community.

Today we acknowledge our role and responsibility in informing the tourist beforehand what to expect from a stay at a living desert. We realise now the importance of stating to them what the local context is and what they would also be required to comply with when they are here – such as the culture, their clothing, the food, the overall ambience. We are a lot more assertive and comfortable with declining a guest’s request if it isn’t in alignment with our ethics.”

Read more about Hacra Dhani here

Meet Gajje of Hacra Dhani 

“Middle school teachers complained to me that some of their students could hardly read. This surprised me— it was common in my 1990s childhood, but the fact that this was still the case in the mid-2010s bothered me. There are more kids now, but the quality of education and social progress here [in Taiftob] hadn’t improved.

Having worked in Kupang and Yogyakarta before, I collected books. I opened a library [in Taiftob] so that kids here can read. And I wrote a proposal telling people about my dream to build a gathering space for local children to engage in creative collaborations.

In July 2016, I was helping my father harvest loquats and guavas at the end of the season. The name Lakoat.Kujawas came to me in an instant. These fruits tug at my childhood memories. This name represents the hopes of a village child to live a better life at home, carrying the happy memories things like loquats and guavas make.

I intended Lakoat.Kujawas to cater to children. But in 2017, parents approached me. ‘Dicky, we want to join. What fun our kids are having with all these English classes, dance classes, and wonderful activities!’

I wasn’t prepared for an adult Lakoat.Kujawas, but came to understand why these parents wanted in. We, Orang Mollo, are a people of the gathering. We called our gatherings elaf. Elaf is about celebrations, coming together and fostering interpersonal relationships. It’s a moment where people meet and hear the spoken word, tales, and genealogies.

Harvest thanksgivings, and rituals held in wellsprings and rock towers make the space in which cultural knowledge is transmitted intergenerationally. When elaf is missing, the stories of our people lack the space to tell them.

I never imagined Lakoat.Kujawas becoming a travel experience. But as our work archiving our cultural knowledge came together like pieces of a puzzle, we came to realise that we have stories, values and philosophies that outsiders appreciate. 

At Lakoat.Kujawas we continue to grow and nurture the spirit of solidarity and collaboration, which are increasingly scarce. Our spirit is not project-based — it’s an elaf spirit that restores our cultural spaces with dignity."

Read more about Lakoat.Kujawas

“After serving many years in the police force, my husband Liun was transferred to Long Semadoh Naseb for his last posting. This is also his birthplace, so when he retired, it made sense for us to buy a piece of land here to do rice planting. Both of us are from farming families, like most people in Long Semadoh. Liun was a bit of a rebel though – at 18, he ran away from home to pursue his dream of becoming a policeman!

I was very happy to come back to the kampung (village). City life is tough. If you have no money you cannot survive. Here, I only have to buy sugar and salt and go to town once a month for other supplies. I plant what I want to eat and forage for food when I go jalan-jalan ((Bahasa Melayu for walking) in the jungle. There are many types of plants in the forest. 

I was told that some of the herbs that grow wild here are much sought after by top chefs in Kuala Lumpur. That's why I said to my siblings in the city, ‘balik kampung (going home)’. The land here is fertile and bountiful.

In the past, outsiders have approached us to set up a farm and grow vegetables, fruits, and coffee. We did what they asked, but when we brought our produce down to Lawas, there was nobody to help us sell it. Eventually we had to discard the produce. Having learnt our lesson, we decided to plant for our own consumption.

It was the same for rice. We would try to sell our excess rice in Lawas. The price goes up and down depending on the competition. Sometimes, each gantang (equivalent to 3.5kg) only fetched RM17 (US$4), which was barely enough to cover transportation cost. 

And the road to Lawas was teruk (terrible). If it rains, the 4WD vehicle gets stuck in the mud and passengers have to get down and push it. We prefer to save ourselves the grief and feed the excess rice to our chickens and dogs.

We met Gituen, Aco, Bulan and Udan (Lun Bawang names for the Langit founders) in 2015 when they were doing NGO work for the community. From our interaction, I could tell that they are clever and sincere. They don’t just talk or give orders but spend time to understand the community and our challenges. Gituen and Aco even brought their mothers to try their hand at rice farming!

We were the first people who sold rice to Langit. Why not? They gave us a good price and collected the rice from our doorstep. I told other friends who were also looking for buyers for their extra rice. Not everyone is eligible, though, because Langit only wants rice that isn't sprayed (with pesticides).

We did not use ubat (medicine; in this case referring to pesticides)  in the past, but a few years ago, those outsiders who asked us to plant and sell paddy told us that our paddy has a lot of diseases. They also gave us ubat to spray.

Since signing up with Langit, we have stopped spraying our plants. Aco told us the spray is killing ourselves.

The income from the rice sales enables us to buy daily household items like handicrafts, mattresses that we use for the homestay. We have seen the sales go up year on year. This year, the kampung as a whole sold 300 gunnies, up from 100 the previous year.

We like having people around, now that our children have grown up and work elsewhere, though they come back for the holidays. If the rice business takes off and our youths see many people here again, perhaps they will think about staying for the long term.

Read more about Langit Collective

Meet Lilian and Zi of Langit Collective

“When we were building water pipes for an NGO previously, we saw the huge gap between rural and urban areas. Deep down, we wanted to do something beyond infrastructure building and economic projects — find one thing that the whole area can hype and build on as an economy driver.

We never had an answer until we came to Long Semadoh. We tried the amazing rice and wondered how come we've never heard of it in the market. Then we saw the challenges they faced in selling their rice. So we thought maybe helping them with market linkage can be an answer.

We started with 30kg of rice which we hand-carried and packed into jute bags and sold as Christmas gifts in December 2015. After that we decided to formalise it by setting up Langit Collective. An NGO was out of the question because we don't want to rely on handouts. We just went and registered as a social enterprise, that’s it. Four dreamers.

We did a four-month accelerator course from ideation to business-ready stage in MaGIC (Malaysian Global Innovation and Creativity Centre). It was eye-opening for the four of us who had no business background.

A lot of people give us ideas. You must push the farmers, scale up, change seeds, use this and that technology etc. But when you spend enough time with the farmers working the fields, you realise they have their own kind of wisdom. Wisdom they may not teach us simply because they don’t know they have it, or how precious it is. 

For example, when they observe the interplay of different natural elements, it hits you that the human is the most powerful probe and IOT (Internet of Things). It is only when your feet are stuck in the mud, that you begin to observe, hmm this mud is a bit harder, hmm this feels fertile. You can tell because you've gone to enough paddy fields to know the difference.

You can’t rush community work because it is all about relationship building. We started off with only Uncle Liun, Auntie Annie and Aunty Rumie who were crazy enough to believe in us. 

Once you get a local influencer convinced, your battle gets a little easier because you now have a ‘mouthpiece’ who understands enough about what you do to tell others about it. 

From three model farmers, we have expanded to over 40 farmers throughout the valley. Now when the other farmers see us, they stop us and ask, 'how is your yield?' You're finally talking farmer to farmer. And it’s such a satisfying pat on the back.”

Read more about Langit Collective

Meet Ribed of Langit Collective

Langit Collective is among the alumni of the Young Social Entrepreneur (YSE) programme by Singapore International Foundation, which provides mentorship, networking opportunities and a grant. In 2019, it landed the DBSF x SIF Social Impact Prize which is given out to YSE alumni who have shown sustained achievements after the programme.