The community leaders taking on Bali's plastic problem
We started our journey through Indonesia in Bali, skipping the trendy resorts of Ubud for less developed areas like Sideman and Selat. Our drive from Kuta winded through dusty villages stacked alongside deep green valleys, and muddy fields dotted with huge bulls chewing swaths of yellow grass. Bali was proving to be every bit as beautiful as I had expected. Then I noticed the colourful trail of plastic wrappers and empty cans dancing out from under the wheels of our car and falling into the ditches alongside the road. Plastic bottles, bags, and straws filled watery trenches, rivers, and streams. We had mistakenly assumed that by leaving Kuta we would be leaving its pollution behind too, but we would come to find Indonesia’s pollution is not confined to its cities or tourist-heavy areas, although tourists do still hold a large part of the blame. It’s also in the most remote areas, carried by water or dumped by locals who have no other option but to do so.
Bali declared a “garbage emergency” back in November, 2017. Their well known beaches were covered in plastic waste, the ocean was so badly swamped with it that surfing became almost impossible in parts, and tourists and residents alike joined together for a massive clean-up. Unfortunately, as heartening as this effort was, it’s a mere drop in the ocean (quite literally). A study from the University of Georgia found that in 2010, 192 coastal countries generated 275 million metric tons of plastic waste, with 4.8 to 12.7 million metric tons entering the ocean. Indonesia made up more than 10 percent of that total, accounting for up to 1.29 million tons, making them the second largest maritime plastic polluter in the world, surpassed only by China.
At dinner that night the manager came over to greet us and we got chatting about the area. We mentioned that it was more developed than we’d expected, and he cast a dark look at the imposing modern hotel blocks being built just next door. “I hope it isn’t the next Ubud”, he said, “that would be very bad for the area, for the locals and the environment.” We had assumed a business owner would welcome the opportunity to grow and expand, having noticed half of his bungalows stood empty. But he was adamant. “You look at Ubud now” he said, “and it’s completely different, it’s a different place from what it used to be, even from when I was younger. Soon they will ruin it completely and all the tourists will move on, but I don’t want them to come here. I want Sidemen to be an eco-village, so that every resort has to follow rules and take care of the environment.” He paused to look out at the darkening vista behind us and said, “Without the environment what do we have?”
We had stumbled upon an unlikely environmental warrior. He told us he had once or twice become so fed up with the roadside litter that he had gotten out of his car to clean it up himself, and hadn’t cared at all that people in passing cars and motorbikes slowed to tease and laugh at him. He said he’d tried tirelessly to get the community involved in cleanups and passing new laws around more efficient disposal, but the village elders remain apathetic, passing off his impassioned pleas as silly paranoia. But he hasn’t given up, trying instead to appeal to the younger members of the community, who tend to agree with him, but making really significant change, he explained, is a slow drip of progress. Not long ago, Balinese locals had traditionally relied on organic materials that didn’t clog rivers or trenches, but the plastic came in before there was a waste management system in place, and by the sounds of it there still isn’t one, which we realise when our new friend tells us about his plan to start a system for waste disposal - using the cars and drivers he already has from the cab company he runs, they would drive from house to house picking up waste to dispose of it correctly. Otherwise, he says, the locals have no other choice. Some of them burn it, others throw it in the river. “After the market, the women who sell the food, they walk to the edge of the river and just,” he makes a gesture with his arms as if dumping something, “they don’t know what else to do with it, they don’t realise the river carries it into the rice fields and suffocates the rice.”
It’s estimated that over 300 tons of plastic waste enter Bali’s waterways on a daily basis. At the World’s Ocean Summit, Indonesia’s coordinating Minister for Maritime Affairs, Luhut Binsar Pandjaitan, said that the country would seek to reduce plastic pollution by 75 per cent by 2025.
The morning after our conversation with the manager of the guesthouse we embarked on a trek through the rice fields with a local guide and as we meandered through rows of mixed crops - chillis, beans, flowers, papaya, and mango trees - overlooking miles of rice paddies, we could have easily forgotten about a pollution problem. But it turned out the guesthouse manager wasn’t the only concerned community member - our guide spoke at length about the impact of pollution on his village, telling us he too hoped for Sidemen to become an eco-village so that the yoga studio/community wellness centre he dreams of one day opening would thrive.
It was hard not to be disheartened after leaving Bali. The expectation, I think, in traveling to more remote destinations is that you’ll see less of the worst aspects of westernisation and modernisation, but that’s rarely the case. Unfortunately, things like processed food and plastic are easily adopted by poorer countries because of their convenience and affordability, but with no system to manage or control them, they aren’t as easily hidden. It’s more often the tourist hotspots where things will be better concealed; resorts with clean beaches and litter-less roads are that way because they have the resources to clear them, creating the illusion that you are in an untouched oasis. While the spots off the beaten path, which should truly be paradises, like the Togean Islands and Raja Ampat, have no way of disposing of their plastic and none of the resources needed to successfully hide it from view. This is not to say that these places aren’t beautiful, or that the locals there don’t care, in fact the people we met in Bali cared more about where they lived than anyone I’ve ever met. But if you go to these less traversed places, do consider how you’re leaving them and be conscious of your footprint. I hope our friends in Sidemen are still working towards a greener future for their community, and with enough action and noise from locals, Indonesia as a whole will have to do the same.
