Tourisms Predicament

So leaf; Upper Mustang tourism has meant the individual’s gain and the community’s loss.

Life was hectic enough before tourism came to Upper Mustang. In the eight bustling months when Lobas stayed in Lo, fields had to be prepared and sown, irrigation canals had to be repaired, sheep, goats, and dzo-pa had to be fattened and their wool collected and spun. Villagers contributed a few days’ labour lo their gumba and another few days for village works. Fields had to be weeded, grass, shrub, and dung collected, rice bought. Some young men and women migrated to the two-harvest villages of lower Mustang to work for cash or grains. In the meantime, small village disputes had to be resolved, and the inter-village misunderstandings that escalated into small-time wars had to be settled peaceably. Slack periods were filled with hearty three, four, five-day picnics, parties and guff-sessions. In late August and September, fields were harvested, food grains processed and hay stored, and then the Lobas packed off to southern Nepal or India to conduct their winter trade.

Shooting the breeze by the gates of Manthang may soon be a thing of the past. In April 1992, the first tourists and their support staff arrived, and after that, a stream of foreigners followed. The weather went bad, and some of the elders grumbled, but then again, there was money to be made in renting out horses, mules and the threshing-grounds-cum-camping-sites. Furthermore, every tourist was an important person: a surgeon, a biochemical engineer, a writer, a diplomat, a donor. Some promised money for schools, some conducted dental clinics, some offered their free expert advice. The Lobas duely khata-ed them and sent them off.

As in the other Himalayan regions of Nepal, tourism brought with it development. In the winter of 1992, the Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) established its office in Lo Manthang under the direction of the Ministry of Tourism. In a unique experiment in decentralising the benefits of tourism, the Ministry was to channel 60 percent of the entry fee charged to Upper Mustang tourists back into the community through ACAP’s development works. Other development agencies, such as CARE/Nepal, also moved up.

Studies, films, tourism, development: the communities of Upper Mustang are small, sometimes with only 15 or 20 houses, and aside from inducing burnout (one man in Tsele said his family had been volunteering labour for one or another development work for close to four months), all this commotion may well strain a social structure which has so far been integral to the communities ability to manage themselves.

Not that the people are naive. Exposure to the world beyond, during their winter migration, has given them ample opportunity to learn of things not found in their own comer of the world. But in this case, they a being challenged collectively, rather than individually, to cope with change. In addition, the change is something confronting them, rather than something they have chosen.

Upper Mustang’s villages have had very strong rules regarding most matters of significance to the community — water and pasture rights, agricultural schedules, religious festivals. These rules have helped them survive in a very hostile terrain. Since April 1992, the world beyond has no longer been at a distance: it is entering their area and confronting them. Everything is happening so fast that the community is left with few choices but to react and react and react.

The development agencies working in Upper Mustang tend to be village-based and sensitive to the particularities of each community. In most cases, time is taken to let villages reach their own decision. It is tourism, predictably enough, which threatens the Upper Mustang communities with irreversible damage. Despite the fact that only 1000 tourists are allowed in a year, this strange new phenomenon is creating a great predicament.

It is not that the place will change: this is the inevitable outcome of a considered decision by the Government to make tourism the most important new source of income for this area. The predicament of tourism is that it can impoverish the community while enriching the person. The money that is pouring in at the individual level is widening the gulf between rich and poor, exacerbating pre-existing class tensions, and leaving the community awash with resentments and confusion.

Lo Manthang is a case in point. In May 1993, the village held a meeting to address growing anger about the fact that only a few horse and mule owners had the means to benefit from tourism. Several ideas were forwarded at the meeting, but the only one was implemented: henceforth, only horses from Lo Manthang were to take tourists north of the village, and the “tax” would be NRs 110 per horse.

Other villages reacted quickly. There was resentment against the Lo Manthang-horse-only policy for the northern area, and some asked why they shouldn’t also charge a “tax” on their horses. There was even a suggestion that Lo Manthang’s horses be banned from going south. This discussion was finally made moot by a Ministry of Home Affairs decision to restrict all tourists from going north of Lo Manthang.

The villagers have had to confront other equally confusing questions, such as whether to charge for entry into gumbas and whether to allow gumba interiors to be filmed or photographed. How does one react when a tourist walks into a field that is off-limits to everyone for religious reasons?

Part of the confusion is being caused by the fact that there are few precedents to look to for guidance. This is the first time controlled tourism is being implemented in Nepal, and looking at the experience of the southern Thakalis is of little help. It is indicative, however, that despite the “mass-tourism” in the Thakali area, their social structure remains strong, whereas the “low impact” tourism of the upper area is wreaking minor havoc.

Charged with preparing the community to. handle “controlled tourism”, ACAP encourages the villages lo consider all available options, hold discussions, and pass rules which suit them. It is ACAP’s responsibility to turn this kind of tourism into a positive experience, given that it is a fact of controlled tourism that it benefits only a small proportion of the population.

It will take time to find a way to distribute the benefits more equally, whether this be through levying traditional “taxes” on those who are benefitting, or through establishing .lodges and cooperative handicraft outlets or other such undertakings that benefit the poorer segments of the society. By doing this, the introduction of tourism can go hand-in-hand with the increased economic self-determination of the people of Upper Mustang.

Thapa is the Project Manager of ACAP’s Upper Mustang Conservation and Development Project. The views expressed here are her own, and do not necessarily represent ACAP’s position.