Balinese NGO workers cope under pressure<\/p>\n
By Degung Santikarma<\/p>\n
DENPASAR, Bali (JP): At a small seaside hotel in Kuta a
\nbarefoot parade of sarong-and-bikini clad tourists wandered
\nthrough the hotel lobby in search of the beach beyond. But the
\nmixed group of Indonesians and Westerners, dressed in long pants,
\nneatly ironed shirts and shiny shoes, who were gathering in the
\nhotel's open air meeting pavilion, barely turned a glance toward
\nthe colorful crowd spread out on the sands only meters away from
\nthem. This group, after all, came to Bali in pursuit of more
\nserious goals than pub crawls or perfect tans. Dozens of
\nrepresentatives from international development agencies have
\ndescended on the \"enchanted isle\" not to luxuriate in its fabled
\ncharms but to discuss with Balinese NGOs (non-governmental
\norganizations) the best ways to try and heal the hurts of this
\nisland that has been hard hit by rising social tensions,
\nincreasing environmental degradation and the loss of fertile land
\nand traditional livelihoods to the tourist industry.<\/p>\n
In the hotel, they listened to papers outlining plans for
\naction and watched the overhead projectors display of tables and
\ngraphs that break down the pains of the Balinese population into
\neasy to manage portions. But as modern as the scene might seem,
\nwith the attendees busy taking calls from their ringing
\nhandphones and checking their electronic notebooks to set up
\nappointments, there was also a distinctly neocolonial feel in the
\nair.<\/p>\n
During the coffee break, the Western participants were
\nenjoying a level of service never before seen in this one-star
\nhotel. Members of the Balinese NGOs rushed to find the most
\ncomfortable chairs to ease the tired feet of their foreign
\ncounterparts, and then lined up in nervous rows, hoping to have a
\nchance to hand out a business card, a project proposal or score
\nthe ultimate goal of a private meeting. Using the most polite and
\nrespectful language they could muster, these local activists told
\nstories of the sufferings in their communities with all the
\npassion of salesmen hoping to entice a buyer into making a
\ndeposit on a prime piece of Bali's beachfront land. And as the
\ndrive to attract funding dollars became more heated, cracks in
\nthe united local front start to become visible.<\/p>\n
\"I know everyone in Jakarta,\" one activist boasted. \"Just give
\nme your proposal and I'll see that it gets funded,\" he claimed
\nwith the confidence of an old-style feudal lord offering his
\npatronage to peasant clients.<\/p>\n
Before there were NGOs in Bali, there were traditional groups
\ncalled sekehe which, without outside funding, government permits
\nor expert consultants, worked to address social problems. When
\npestilence threatened the crops, there were sekehe bikul or rat-
\ncatching societies that would roam through the fields in search
\nof vermin. When roofs sprung leaks during the rainy season, the
\nsekehe ikat or roofweaving society would travel from house to
\nhouse offering its services. There were even sekehe tuak,
\nsocieties for the making and drinking of palm wine, and sekehe
\ntari, dance societies, who would ensure the island never went
\nwithout entertainment.<\/p>\n
But with the rise to power of the New Order, these local
\norganizations hardly seemed able to achieve the grand goals the
\nnew government had set for development. Compared to plans for
\nreorganizing Balinese agriculture through the so-called \"Green
\nRevolution\" or making Bali a world center for five star tourism,
\nforming a sekehe semal society to catch the squirrels which
\nthreatened the coconut harvest began to seem rather quaint and
\nold-fashioned, the kind of thing useful mainly for attracting the
\nattention of curiosity-seeking cultural tourists.<\/p>\n
New Order developmentalism brought its own problems to Bali.
\nRampant tourist development led not to the promised prosperity
\nfor all but to increasing social problems for many, while other
\ngovernment-sponsored programs were plagued by epidemics of
\ncollusion, corruption and nepotism. Formed to provide a space for
\ncritical thinking and to turn idealism into action, Balinese NGOs
\nbegan working to address important issues such as poverty, AIDS,
\nthe destruction of the environment, tourism, and political
\nrepression.<\/p>\n
Yet the problems faced by Balinese NGOs today are numerous.
\nThey range from the administrative difficulties of having to
\nproduce funding proposals and project reports without the
\nnecessary writing skills, computer knowledge or, especially,
\nEnglish language abilities, to family pressure to get a \"real
\njob\" that pays more than, at the most, a few hundred thousand
\nrupiah a month. Frequently, resentment towards foreign
\nconsultants who earn up to a hundred times the salary of their
\nlocal counterparts troubles relationships between local NGOs and
\ninternational aid agencies. And there are also the inevitable
\nobstacles that arise from trying to turn abstract concepts like
\n\"civil society,\" \"environmental awareness\" or \"sustainable
\nresource management\" into actual working programs.<\/p>\n
\"We're trying to encourage people to conserve the environment
\nand protect it from the damage caused by uncontrolled tourism
\ndevelopment, but most people in Bali think that animals are only
\ngood for eating and trees only good for chopping down,\" said
\nKadek, an activist who works for a local environmentalist NGO.<\/p>\n
He told a story of meeting with a group of villagers on the
\ndry and rocky coastline of eastern Bali where persistent drought
\nconditions combined with poverty had led to the deforestation of
\nnearby mountain slopes as people scoured the hills for firewood
\nand grass to feed their cows. In the aftermath of rainy season
\nlandslides that killed several villagers, a government agency had
\ndesignated the mountain a reforestation zone and barred villagers
\nfrom accessing it.<\/p>\n
\"We tried to talk with them about how conserving the mountain
\necosystem would benefit them, but the local people just saw the
\nproject as another example of the government taking away their
\nland and denying them needed resources,\" Kadek recounted.<\/p>\n
Another similar story was told by Agung Alit, director of
\nMitra Bali, an NGO active in the arena of fair trade, which works
\nto help local craftspeople who have been marginalized from the
\neconomic benefits of tourism develop markets for their products
\nand to encourage safe working conditions, gender equality and
\nenvironmental awareness.<\/p>\n
Participatory<\/p>\n
Two weeks after passing an order from an overseas buyer for
\nten carved wooden dinosaurs on to one of the craftsmen involved
\nin the organization's programs, Alit returned home one night to
\nfind two hundred of the beasts in a box on his front porch. The
\nnext day, the craftsman showed up at Alit's house asking to be
\npaid for his work, explaining that he had made the extra goods
\nbecause he needed enough money to pay for a ceremony to marry a
\nsecond wife. \"I'm not sure sometimes if the message we are trying
\nto send in our small business management and gender sensitivity
\nworkshops is getting across,\" worried Alit.<\/p>\n
Indeed, perhaps the biggest problem faced by Balinese NGOs is
\nthe pressure to create programs that are, in development lingo,
\n\"participatory\". To create meaningful social change, activists
\nmust act as mediators between international funding agencies
\nwhich are advocating particular issues and local communities
\nwhose cultural and historical backgrounds and practical concerns
\nmay differ substantially from those who are setting these agendas
\nfrom their offices in the West.<\/p>\n
Trying to create open dialogs and encourage the input of local
\ncommunities in programs can be a difficult task when the very
\nmeaning of \"participation\" itself is locally variable.<\/p>\n
\"The hardest thing is when we hold a workshop or a training
\nseminar and when we ask for people's opinions nobody wants to
\nspeak,\" said Agung Alit. \"They have been trained by the New Order
\nthat expressing your opinion openly can be a dangerous thing.\"<\/p>\n
In a cultural and political milieu where speech itself is the
\nprivilege of those with power, such as government officials and
\nlocal leaders, most of whom are educated males, trying to
\nencourage open communication can be a difficult and frustrating
\nprocess. And even community activists express fear of speaking
\nbluntly about the difficulties they face.<\/p>\n
\"Many times projects fail because of problems translating them
\ninto practice, but we're afraid to talk about this with the
\nagencies in Jakarta because it is only success that brings more
\nfunding. It's also hard when the Western experts they send don't
\nspeak our language and can't understand the cultural setting that
\nwe're working in. They might be experts about the environment,
\nfor instance, but they can't understand that Balinese often see
\nthings differently,\" said one NGO member who did not wish to be
\nnamed for fear that the international funders of his organization
\nwould interpret his words negatively. \"We're stuck in the
\nmiddle,\" he concluded.<\/p>\n
The author is an antropologist.<\/p>", "url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/balinese-ngo-workers-cope-under-pressure-1447893297", "image": "" }, "sponsor": "Okusi Associates", "sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com" }