We feel blessed by the amazing volunteers that help us along the way. Leigh is such an example. She is a writer and young media professional who donated her creativity, both strategically and editorially, to Ecodana’s development.
Leigh Cuen
Where do you live and what do you do?
San Francisco, I am the photo editor at a local newspaper.
What got you interested in environmental/sustainability issues?
A passionate science teacher when I was seventeen.
Do you volunteer for other causes?
I volunteer for several nonprofits in the Mission, one arts related and the other is bilingual community news.
What about Ecodana do you like ?
I like how well it accomplishes things. Quickly, effectively, creatively, and with sustainable perspective. A lot of environmental organizations, especially the international ones, the money gets lost on hands in between. And because a bunch of rich white people were the ones who came and build it, when the NGO leaves the indigenous communities have neither the expertise nor the commitment to keep up these restoration and preservation projects. Ecodana, on the other hand, works with grassroots organizations from the indigenous communities themselves. It provides practical, sustainable solutions to poverty. It is like this justice hybrid, strengthening indigenous people’s rights through environmental justice. That’s empowerment.
Why volunteer?
I like the planet and cultural diversity. Projects like these help keep both alive.
Moment in your life you felt like you were making a difference?
Long story…
Your heroes?
Zainab Salib. Gandhi. Whoever invented marshmallows.
Ideal world?
A land without injustice, money, or inconvenient weather.
If you had a megaphone, what would you shout to the world?
I wouldn’t shout. Maybe I’d try to start a sing-along.
I am on the back of Bambang Bider’s scooter, one of many traveling in a caravan through foot paths in the forests of Borneo. Bambang, founder and director of local NGO Taras Institute, has asked some fellow Bakati Dayaks (the local tribe) to show us where they have recently slashed and burnt some land.
Bamgbang Bider of Taras Institute
Slash and burn agriculture, also know as shifting cultivation, involves cutting down and then burning forest to create fields. The practice is found in many indigenous cultures and has been a way of life for centuries. But now, slash and burn is controversial because it is seen as a major contributor to climate change and farmers are being forced to stop.
Bambang tells me that shifting cultivation is still very much part of Dayak culture. Their main farming practice is dry rice farming or padi ladang (as opposed to the more common padi paya or wet rice cultivation). Dayaks grow rice on small plots of land that are cleared through slashing and burning. Farmers usually grow corn, cassava, peppercorns and other vegetables on the same plot. For the most part, food production is purely for personal consumption. If the harvest is good they keep the surplus rice for less fortunate times.
Bamgbang Bider and Pak Daniel in slash and burn area
Farmer Pak (Mr.) Daniel shows us land a fellow villager has recently slashed which is being readied for burning. It looks like a major hurricane has struck the area — trees and shrubs have been cut and tossed about. However, the plot is clearly demarcated on one side by a straight swath of verdant saplings and bushes. On the other side is a wall of tall trees and shrubbery which looks just like a forest.
In slash and burn, farmers cut down the vegetation in a particular plot of land, set fire to the remaining foliage, and use the ashes to provide nutrients to the soil for use of planting food crops. Every year farmers move to another area and start the process again. After about 5-7 years they will come full circle and slash and burn the first area again.
The practice makes sense from an ecological perspective because ashes are a natural soil enrichment and the land is allowed to regenerate in between burnings. But nowadays, in addition to population growth and the influx of cars, planes and industry, the resulting deforestation and smoke from burning thousands of acres of forest every dry season has had a significant impact on climate change, not to mention people’s health. That is why there is considerable pressure on local communities to stop this ancient practice.
Bambang doesn’t believe the Dayaks will change their traditions anytime soon. He tells me shifting cultivation is just too integral to their identity. Later that night we have a meeting with a group of farmers at one of their houses. After discussing their main challenges (shifting climate and markets) I ask them what their dreams are, what they would like for the next generation. Their response is pretty unanimous: generate more income so they can send their children to school.
Sebalos village farmers group meeting with Bambang
So, I ask, if you were able to afford school fees so that your children can finish high school, don’t you think they will be less likely to follow in your footsteps? Don’t you think they would rather find easier – and better-paid work? The silence is palpable and then they crack some jokes. Overall, they agree that education is better for their children, but they hope some will still practice the traditional ways.
Bambang thinks that many children will love school and will continue on to college and get office jobs (he personally took this path — going to a missionary boarding school in Pontianak, capital city of Kalimantan).
Slash and Burn Agriculture
It occurs to me that rather than condemn, or worse, make it illegal for these farmers to practice slash and burn, it seems wiser to introduce and create other means of income generation for them such as adopting new cultivation practices, like what Mata Rantai is doing in Tumbang Titi [link to Donatus post], or getting Bakati Dayak farmers to plant income-generating trees such as the Aquilaria species which contains a highly sought-after resin known as agarwood used in cosmetics and incense, (a project currently promoted on our website Ecodana.org)
By generating income, projects like these will eventually lead to better education for future generations. And in this way, without having to use force, an old way of life with practices that are now no longer beneficial to the environment will slowly die out.
This is Part II of a Q&A with Mrs. Sayu, who is senior program director at IDEP ( Yayasan IDEP Selaras Alam ). Founded in 1999, IDEP develops and delivers training, community programs and media related to sustainable development through permaculture, and community-based disaster management. Mrs. Sayu is from the same area as our project in Bali and will be overseeing it. Part I of Q&A is here.
Part II of Q&A
How do people survive in the villages? Is it mostly farming?
Mrs. Sayu
Farming, livestock, fisheries.
What do farmers grow for food ?
They grow vegetables and some farmers also grow rice.
What would be a typical meal ?
The community mostly eats rice and vegetables from their own gardens.
What’s a typical day like in the villages? For women ? For men ?
The daily activities in the village for women and men are almost the same. They work jointly on their farms. For instance: men pick coconuts from the trees and the women take the fruits out from the farm to an area to be collected by the buyers.
Any stories you would like to share about working with these communities?
People in the village Yehembang Kauh still have a good system of working together. Indonesians call it “gotong royong”. One of the activities they worked on together was clearing the land and planting timber for Agroforestry in the community demonstration plot. After working together to create an agroforestry demonstration plot some people began to apply these systems in their own fields. They used to plant only cocoa and bananas on their land, but now they have started adding hardwood plants as a crop that will be able to hold the soil and water as most of the houses are located along the riverbank.
Any good local jokes?
Well, when communities were invited to the training, they would all be passive and not so enthusiastic – they would only stare at us throughout the training process. The locals said this in their language “yen orahin, peteke bulu matane “ which means, “when they are told something, they don’t listen, instead, they are counting your eyelashes”. From this local “joke” we understand that communities are not fond of only receiving training, they want to participate more actively in direct practices or other activities.
Why does IDEP choose to work in/with these particular communities?
IDEP works with communities in Yehembang not only because they have serious land clearing and deforestation issues, but also because the communities are hard working people who are creative, open minded, independent and place a high value on life.
Can you talk about IDEP’s process of making personal contacts in the community/ies where you work?
At the beginning, IDEP was invited by one youth group who had been focusing its work in YehEmbang communities. BaseBali, the youth group who is currently IDEP’s partner in this area, has often invited IDEP to do activities with local groups there. One of the activities was to invite school children to plant hardwood seedlings and to run painting and art activities. From this event, IDEP learned that communities face serious environmental issues and since then, IDEP together with BaseBali developed and continue to run a longstanding project with communities.
Do you have to deal with much bureaucracy ?
Not that much. Our local partner, BaseBALI has had a longstanding project in the area before, and they have always involved or informed local government about community events being held. Therefore, the project IDEP is now implementing has been acknowledged and supported by local government (The Forestry bureau, Agriculture Department).
What hardships do people complain about most often? Lack of clean water and the poor quality of existing clean water due to massive deforestation and change in climate (rainfalls are decreasing)
What changes do you envision IDEP’s programs will bring to the beneficiaries and communities?
Changes expected from the implementation of this program are:
To increase the communities; awareness about the seriousness of environmental degradation.
For communities to understand the disaster risk in their area – from landslide, deforestation, drought – and take measures to reduce the risk.
This is Part I of a Q&A with Mrs. Sayu, who is senior program director at IDEP ( Yayasan IDEP Selaras Alam ). Founded in 1999, IDEP develops and delivers training, community programs and media related to sustainable development through permaculture, and community-based disaster management. Mrs. Sayu is from the same area as our project in Bali and will be overseeing it.
Mrs. Sayu
How did you get involved with IDEP?
I started working with IDEP in mid 2003 as a volunteer at a microcredit program and as an eco-trainer. IDEP also introduced me to an agricultural approach called “Permaculture” and the way it works to ensure sustainability. Finally in 2004, I joined the organization’s staff and now I handle IDEP’s Eco Trainers Program and provide education about the environment and sustainable agriculture to the communities and to farmers.
Did you ever expect to be doing this type of work?
I was born into a farmer’s family. We owned land and depended on farming for our livelihoods. As a child, I felt the direct negative effect of chemical agriculture; I had to be hospitalized for two weeks due to pesticide poisoning. From that point on, I really wanted to get an education about sustainable agriculture and non-chemical farming. Since becoming a mother, with a six-year old daughter now, this intention has become even stronger for me. I am now studying Agriculture at Udayana University while working at IDEP. It has given me the opportunity to fulfill my potential. Working in agriculture and with the community has always been my passion.
What is for you the most rewarding aspect of the work you do?
The most rewarding aspect of joining IDEP is receiving knowledge, being able to share it with others and influencing their decisions to care more about the environment and their agricultural practices. This is something beyond what I can express in words.
Do you think there is a growing awareness of ecological issues in Indonesia?
Yes. It’s affecting people’s livelihoods dramatically and a lot of people are starting to realize the seriousness of environmental degradation in their neighborhoods.
Are younger people more conscious of environmental problems?
Not really. We have learned that consciousness and awareness is more related to personal experience; when people feel the effects of environmental disaster – i.e. flood, landslide, waste problems – they become more aware of the risk and take measures to change their behavior to make the environment better.
Can you describe briefly this area (Bali) of Indonesia? How are poverty and environmental issues different than, say, in Kalimantan or Aceh?
In Bali, poverty and environmental issues are massive and critical. It is even worse than in Kalimantan. The difference between Bali and other areas is that Bali has been in the spotlight because it’s a beautiful island and a popular tourist area. So the environmental and social problems have been swept under the rug because some argue that if these issues were raised, it would damage the beautiful picture of Bali as Indonesia’s best tourism area. The impact of this strategy is that governments, donors and corporate social responsibility projects have not prioritized Bali to receive poverty alleviation projects. It is worsened by the ongoing promotion of investment in the Bali tourism industry. Only this year did the local government start paying serious attention to environmental issues. This happened after a picture of Bali’s beaches covered with trash was published in TIME recently. We hope that soon the government will also take serious actions to reduce social and economic issues to alleviate poverty.
In Long My district, the Anh Duong staff took me to meet Mrs. Tuyền, one of the beneficiaries of our funding, who had recently taken out a loan to install a net greenhouse. Right off, her smile, high-energy and confidence won me over. I could tell she was special but at first, I couldn’t say why.
Mrs.Tuyền works as an outreach worker for the local authority, checking up on families to see if they have fulfilled various obligations or need anything.
So, when AD was looking for people to promote their program she jumped at the opportunity to get involved and earn a little extra cash. She makes $5 a month for talking to at least 10 families about climate change, the environment and sustainable solutions. She even underwent training to install biogas systems which she now gets paid to do (it’s about $5 per installation, a morning’s work.)
Mrs.Tuyền hadn’t asked for a loan before because she had been making a good income harvesting hyacinth stalks which are used to make furniture (it’s like rattan). But over time the sulfur she used to bleach the stalks irritated her eyes so badly that she decided to try an alternative source of income — growing vegetables for market using a net greenhouse.
Mrs Tuyen with AD staff member Mrs Diem in her bedroom.
She and her husband are confident they will pay back their loan in no time. As I look around her garden I can see she has put a lot of work into it. In fact, when we arrived, she was weeding. The vegetables are growing very well, she tells us and they have very recently bought some piglets too. Her goal is to eventually install her own biogas system to convert the pig manure into fuel for cooking.
When I ask about the future, she says that after she installs a biogas system she wants to save up to buy a boat so she can sell her vegetables door to door on the river. She also says that in order to achieve her goal she will have to harvest hyacinth for a couple more seasons even though it bothers her eyes. She makes $10 a day doing this (during harvest period) whereas she only averages $2.50 a day selling vegetables. The boat will help, and along with the pigs and possibly chickens too, she will soon be able to make a good income.
What impresses me most about Mrs. Tuyền — what makes her special, and something I haven’t witnessed much amongst other farmers — is how concrete her goals are. She is determined, willing to work and has a clear sense of the steps she needs to take to get what she wants. This pragmatism along with her enthusiasm and energy will get her very far, I am sure.
A day into my trip to Indonesia, Donatus Rantan, founder of the NGO Mata Rantai, and I head out to the Tumbang Titi sub-district in West Kalimantan on the island of Borneo. I am here to learn more about his organization’s projects to help his people, the Pesaguan Dayak, adjust to the new realities on the ground which are related to deforestation. Donatus ‘s friend Pak Minoy has invited Pak Don and I to come have dinner with him in his village of Natai Panjang.
Pak Minoy is the local ‘adat’ (customs) leader of the indigenous Pesaguan Dayak of this area (there over 200 distinct Dayak subgroups.) Inside his home, he shows me old carvings made of rare rosewood (which are heavy as bricks) and other ceremonial objects, and arts and crafts. He is very proud of his culture and has started collecting these pieces over the past few years because he knows they could easily disappear.
We are sitting on the floor about to eat dinner when Pak Minoy insists that Donatus and I first drink his homemade brew out of ceremonial buffalo horns. This, he says, is to cement our friendship. As I drink the brew I consciously try not to smell the inside of the horn. The brew is tasty, a bit like sake but with a higher alcohol content. And a little smoky.
Drinking from the ceremonial horns
I ask Pak Minoy what his role and obligations are as leader of the community. From what I understand, he acts as a moderator in any kind of dispute among villagers.
But, he tells me, his role consists mainly of settling amorous disputes. His most common settlements are between lovers and their families. It’s the usual stuff — parents don’t like the boyfriend/prospective husband, they want the couple to marry later or earlier, or in some cases, it might be that one partner is Catholic and the other is Muslim and families disapprove. Pak Minoy tries to reason with the families to help them reach a settlement so it doesn’t escalate into a conflict which might require the law to intervene.
He also advises marrying couples on the traditional customs and procedures. And he oversees proper burial traditions. Most Dayak on the island of Borneo are Catholics; but some, the Dayak Melayu, are Muslim.
traditional meal
On the menu: young rattan shoots (very bitter), local small river fish, fermented jackfruit, jungle nuts (not sure what they are called, they hang from trees like pods), delicious sweet sticky rice wrapped in banana leaf and steamed inside a bamboo stalk, fried patties made of rice and bananas. And young bamboo shoots — which I love — that you eat with a fiery paste of fermented shrimp smashed with chilies.
Pak Minoy tells me that he also settles land disputes, and that he agrees with Donatus that the time has come for his people to change their traditional slash and burn agriculture practice and move on to a more sedentary cultivation. He thinks it will take a while but people will eventually follow Donatus’s suggestions to not only cultivate in one land area but to enter the market economy by selling surplus produce. This is a big change for subsistence farmers whose main preoccupation has always been to hunt and gather for their own personal needs.
Dinner at Pak Minoy's house
As I sit there eating, more and more people (family members, perhaps?) come into the room. There are children, women, and adults of all ages. I feel bad because I can see that the children are tired, and it’s late. They are staying up not only to watch the hairy foreigner relish the spicy food and strong brew but also because we are literary eating in the place where — when we leave — they will roll out mats and go to sleep.
Earlier in the evening we had stopped by a village so that Donatus could meet with the village chief. The chief’s son happened to be getting married that day, and of course we were invited to the wedding. So off we went to sit and drink a fermented rice gruel-like drink (Yes, I know, it’s hard work visiting villagers!). After a ritual dance and one last drink we hit the famous dirt roads on our scooters in complete darkness. Needless to say, we arrived late for dinner at Pak Minoy’s house.
At wedding party
I am touched when one of the kids presents me with a couple of traditional fans. They all laugh and point at them and I realize that one of the fans has my name woven into it. A very nice gesture.
As we say goodbye to our hosts it occurs to me that Pak Minoy, with his rosewood carvings and ceremonial artifacts, is holding on to a past that is disappearing. Like all cultures in transition, the elders cherish a way of life that the younger generation doesn’t understand enough to value.
6 am coffee with the boyz: Mr. Tanh, Mr. Hiep, Mr. Marc and Mr. Bernard
Bernard Kervyn was in town (Long My) for a yearly Anh Duong and Thien Chi general meeting. Most Thien Chi staff had come down (from Bình Thuận province) for the event.
Bernard is the founder of Mekong Plus. Originally from Belgium, he moved to Vietnam about 30 years ago and has stayed ever since. Mekong Plus spawned Thien Chi and Anh Duong, and Bernard’s role is that of wise counselor. Plus, he helps them get funding. Married to a Vietnamese and fluent in the language, he is the main advisor to TC and AD, helping them in all aspects of running an NGO and making sure they grow and become self-sufficient.
I was happy to meet him as it was he who had suggested these two organizations to me. The staff was excited as Bernard was being highlighted in an HCMC TV show called “Vietnam and Me” that featured foreigners living and doing business in Vietnam. After a visit to Mr. Điều’s house and garden — Mr. Điều had recently taken out his first loan and had installed a net greenhouse — we joined Bernard and the TV crew as they followed him around and interviewed him while he checked on some projects.
Next morning, I was finally able to catch up with him for a chat at the 6 am boyz coffee (Mr. Tanh, ED of Anh Duong, and Mr Hiep of Thien Chi were also present) across the street from the guesthouse I was staying at. I asked Bernard a question that had been lingering in my mind the last few days because I hadn’t heard a sufficiently strong answer to it, yet: why didn’t Thien Chi and Anh Duong charge interest on their loans?
He replied that in Vietnam one can get a micro-loan from the Vietnamese State Bank. The official interest of around 3% made it hard to compete with. But more importantly, TC and AD’s mission is to get farmers out of poverty and loans in themselves are not enough. With each TC and AD loan comes technical and agricultural support. This ensures that people break old habit patterns and learn new ways of doing things, whether it be growing vegetables, raising pigs or maintaining a biogas system.
This continual support system produces an impressive success rate. According to Mr. Tanh, it is about 90% — that is, at the end of the three year program most families have pulled themselves out of poverty and two years later 90% are still out of poverty –TC and AD check in every six months for two years after a family has graduated (at the three-year mark). Ms. Diễm had mentioned the same figure and she told me that the main reason people “fell” back into poverty was major accidents that put the family back in the red.
I asked Bernard what other challenges he faced running a non-profit in Vietnam. He mentioned the difficulty of employee retention in a country with a booming economy. Employees tend to move from job to job in pursuit of that incremental pay increase. Of course NGOs have to compete but as local non-profits paying local wages, it is very difficult. And, not to mention how to deal with salaries when there is booming inflation, up 16% in the last six months!
With all these challenges, Bernard still manages to open up a new store (three already exist in HCMC, Hanoi and Siem Reap) in HCMC that sells arts and crafts made by local women. And he recently has ventured into neighboring Cambodia to spawn a new NGO there. I wish him all the luck and success and it was great to learn from someone who’s been on the ground for many years and understands the situation as well as anyone else, if not better.
I’ve spent the last three days in Binh Tuan province, west of HCMC (Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam) visiting the folks at our partner NGO Thien Chi. What has struck me most is how they keep records of each and every person they help. From the local government branch (or commune officials), they obtain the records of the families that fall under the poverty level.
TC officers will then survey those families and determine which ones they can help. Once they start working with a family, each one gets a notebook where all info is recorded: all family member’s names, their income, their property, the conditions of the house and land etc.
At the top is all the info about members of the family, below that is a description of the property, and at the bottom, assets that the family has at the start of the relationship with TC. Over time TC will add whatever changes occur and the local commune officials have to sign off after every loan.
As the family takes out loans, all this info is recorded too. After each year the family’s income is recorded to see whether the whole support system has helped them or not. If it hasn’t (they tell me this is maybe a 1 in 100 occurrence) the TC team will meet to figure out what is not working.
What I am starting to understand is that, in effect, once they sign on a family, that family becomes a member of the bigger TC family. At this point that family is everyone’s responsibility and it’s success or failure is everyone’s success or failure.
I wonder if this type of sense of community and “family” could also work in western countries where the individual is conceived as the sole responsible entity in determining her/his successes or failures.
In Tanh Linh (Vietnam), the Thien Chi staff brought me to meet Binh.
Mr. Binh installed a Net Greenhouse around his vegetable garden about three years ago. He hasn’t felt the need to add a net roof though, because he says the insects that are a real pest come from the sides. He has also figured out a way to prevent the rain from clogging his plants so he hasn’t bothered to put a top on.
I’ve spent the last three days in Binh Tuan province, west of HCMC (Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam) visiting the folks at our partner NGO Thien Chi. What has struck me most is how they keep records of each and every person they help. From the local government branch (or commune officials), they obtain the records of the families that fall under the poverty level.
I wonder if this type of sense of community and “family” could also work in western countries where the individual is conceived as the sole responsible entity in determining her/his successes or failures.
In Tanh Linh (Vietnam), the Thien Chi staff brought me to meet Binh.