Orangutan Endangerment: An Issue of Human Development

Having previously worked with orangutans in a captive setting, one of the most exciting aspects of this trip for me was the possibility of encountering Sumatran orangutans in the wild, and seeing first hand the processes that have left them critically endangered. And neither our hike nor our tour through Sumatra disappointed.

As anyone in my group on the hike can tell you, I reached a point of pure exhilaration about an hour into our day-long trek. This came after seeing our 3^rd mother-baby pair of orangutans in the span of an hour, when I thought we’d be lucky if we saw a single orangutan during our hike. Seeing these apes in their natural habitat—the way they moved, ate, interacted, and cared for their young—was truly beautiful, but it also told a story of the challenges that this and all other jungle species are facing. In the course of our hike, the 5 female orangutans that we saw each had a name (Sandra, Mina, Jackie, etc.), indicating that they were once orphaned or rescued from illegal wildlife trade and rehabilitated in captivity before release into the wild. The good news here: Gunung Leuser rehabilitation programs seem to be working. Each female we saw successfully reproduced in the wild, some more than once. The bad news: animals rehabilitated by humans often lose some of their natural fear of humans. Mina and Jackie both begged our group for food to the point of chasing after us, or, in Jackie’s case, grabbing somebody’s hand and refusing to let go while her baby clung to her stomach. This obviously represents a dangerous aspect of human-wildlife contact that can lead to conflicts, and these behaviors can be learned by offspring, perpetuating the issue.

Above: Jackie holds Prof. Hilde’s wrist hostage in exchange for fruit.

Throughout Sumatra, deforestation is an ongoing battle, even in areas such as Gunung Leuser which are protected. The illegal timber trade is one part of this, but as has been previously mentioned on this blog, oil palm plantations are responsible for the majority of deforestation here, decreasing habitat available for orangutans and increasing human-wildlife conflicts. For example, one of our guides, Dede, told us that orangutans are often shot as pests when they are found eating the palm fruit from which palm oil is made. In other areas such as Kalimantan, Borneo, they are still hunted and sold for a large profit. While this presents serious challenges for orangutan conservation, these actions can often mean the difference for those living in poverty in this country, so it has been difficult to prevent these activities in the absence of providing farmers and hunters alternatives.

Unlike the subak system in Bali, which is made up completely of individual farmers, palm farmers in Sumatra must compete with large agriculture plantations which hire low-wage migrant workers from Java and can afford to use expensive fertilizers and chemicals, producing a higher yield. These plantations take up huge swaths of land transformed from forested areas, increasing the rates of deforestation and orangutan conflicts beyond what individual farmers could cause, in addition to damaging the ecosystem by lowering the water table and increasing nutrient loads.

On a positive note, steps are being taken to reduce orangutan conflict in palm plantations. Buffer zones of rubber trees are used to separate palm plantations and forested areas, rather than planting palms up to the forest’s edge where orangutans could easily reach them. Orangutans eat the leaves and fruit of the rubber trees but do not affect the crop, which is harvested by scraping and tapping the trunks for latex. This prevents the problem of orangutans acting as pests within palm plantations, but is not used everywhere yet; it can be difficult for small farms to replicate as rubber trees require much more work to generate profit than palms do, and farmers cannot afford to lose acreage to a less productive crop.

While these struggles are ongoing, people and wildlife alike are suffering. To prevent the killing of orangutans and future deforestation in general, a system creating reimbursement for environmental capital may be useful as many people do not want to shoot orangutans but must to keep their families alive. Additionally, the need for further research into this and all endangered species was made clear to me during our trek as I spoke with Dani, another guide who has been working with orangutans and in the Gunung Leuser park for decades. Knowledge like his will be key to protecting these species as much of what we know now comes out of zoos and other captive programs which does not paint a true picture of these animals in the wild.

Above: Unsatisfied with the banana given in exchange for the safe return of Prof. Hilde, Jackie latches onto Lindsay

E. Becker

Eco-tourism as a Means of Decreasing Deforestation

We began our 8-hour jungle trek at 9 am, slowly making our way up the steep steps closer to the entrance of Gunung Leuser National Park. We took a quick break at the top of the hill to catch our breaths as Dede, our guide, casually leaned against a rubber tree. He took this opportunity to explain to us the history and rigorous labor process behind rubber production. He emphasized the patience and time it took, and how the laborers only make a few US dollars per week. Before we continued on with our trek, Dede jokingly asked the group, “So who of you wants to become rubber laborers?” We chuckled and Dede remarked, “But anything for money when you have none, right?”

Poverty is a sad reality for most Indonesians, and choices for income source are often quite limited. In order to provide for their families, many get involved in rubber, cacao, wood, or oil palm production, which is especially true for those in villages surrounding the forests. Oil palm production is the most problematic because it involves cutting down miles of rainforest to plant the oil palm trees. Deforestation occurs at the highest worldwide rate in Indonesia, and this is, in part, due to the land requirements for oil palm production.

But an innovative option that promotes both the livelihood of local people and preservation of these forests seems to be on the rise – the business of eco-tourism. According to Dede, many of the villagers are not aware of this alternative use of the forest that links conservation with sufficient income. The villagers might see more value in removing the forest rather than in maintaining it because there is certainty in the income coming from the production of goods. In addition, much of the money coming tourism goes to sustaining the lodges in the national park, and not to the villagers themselves.

Because of this, some of the villagers do not like the idea of tourism simply because they are not aware of the potential tourism holds to directly impact them. But if done right, ecotourism could provide more opportunities for the villagers, and open many jobs such as hotel managers, drivers, tour guides, housekeeping, cooks, servers, and more. As well, it can prevent problems such as deforestation, loss of habitat for numerous species, and emission of greenhouse gases from forest burning. Many of the villagers are unaware of what such emissions may mean for their environment and future generations.

In order to have successful eco-tourism, there must be balance and communication between the local people and the tourists. As of now, there seems to be minimum interaction between surrounding villages, tourists, and education on the importance of the forest grounds.

Gunung Leuser National Park is a government-protected area of the rainforest that prohibits anyone from going in and cutting down their trees. It attracts many tourists globally who wish to explore the rainforests and participate in a fun yet clean and organic adventure. It was not only my first time being in the jungle, but it was also my first time participating in any sort of hike of such rigorous effort. It was extremely challenging, but definitely something I would recommend to others or come back to do again. Being surrounded by miles of rainforest, I was able to explore the different species of animals living in their natural habitat, from orangutans, pheasants, Thomas Leaf monkeys, to long tailed macaques. After a day of being emerged in their own habitat, I was fully able to understand the impact that deforestation has these animals.

-Deanna Zare

From Bali to North Sumatra to Pulau Weh

We’re now in Pulau Weh, an island (the word pulau) in Aceh province off the northern tip of Sumatra, on the Andaman Sea. It’s an island still recovering from the effects of the devastating 2004 tsunami.

Following our first week in Bali, we’ve just spent the past week in North Sumatra exploring Gunung Leuser National Park, home to Sumatran tigers, endangered rhinoceroses, elephants, and many other animals, including the threatened Sumatran orangutan. The goal of that part of the trip was to contrast the remaining wild ecosystems and habitats with the broad swathes of land that have now been overtaken by palm plantations all over Sumatra (and Kalimantan, in particular). It’s a contrast in values, or perhaps in degrees of complexity of values. Should we move full bore towards converting land towards purely economic uses and prioritize values of productivity and efficiency? That’s what oil palm represents and it comes with rapid deforestation, forest degradation, loss of peat lands, and a significant increase in carbon emissions due to burning and the loss of forest carbon sinks, not to mention a one-dimensional economy dependent on commodity pricing. Or should we see economic values as only part of a larger array of values that include those of conservation, community, and so on, as we saw so intricately woven together in the Balinese subaks? In a country and region with significant poverty, where people struggle to earn incomes sometimes amounting to ten dollars a week, the answers aren’t immediately clear.

Practically speaking, oil palm and timber harvesting are rapidly taking over the remaining forests of Indonesia, one of the final three great remaining forest systems (along with the Amazon and Central African forests). Oil palm revenues are distributed very unevenly and most people in the industry remain in poverty, but work in the industry can nonetheless represent a small boost in income.

All of this, however, is why Bali’s subak system remains such a fascinating case of balancing economic, environmental, community, and spiritual values, epitomized in both the concrete and in terms of the philosophy of tri hita karana. Furthermore, it’s a complex adaptive system that has withstood environmental and economic disruptions because of the very nature, the resilience, of the system. The main threat today is the economic impetus of growth, which in Bali means growth in the tourism industry and the concomitant overuse of resources as well as powerful incentives to sell off rice farming land to hotel developers. Growth comes with a very high price in Bali.

Now, in lovely Pulau Weh, we’ll discuss a system of environmental/economic/community management similar to the Balinese subaks: the Panglima Laot system of marine management. Panglima Laot doesn’t have the ancient lineage of the 1000+-year-old subaks, dating back a few hundred years and revived more recently. But it is comparable in the sense that it is a system of indigenous communal law (adat) and community- based environmental management that has yielded better results where “better” is consistent with local and even global values of sustainability that are often lacking in larger-scale resource management approaches. More soon on Panglima Laot after we meet with leaders and fishermen tomorrow.

T. Hilde

Reducing Human-Elephant Conflict: But At What Cost?

When first hearing about the elephant portion of our trip, I was absolutely thrilled. Elephants are my favorite animal and I have had a special connection to anything elephant-related since I was eight years old.  Now, just having left the Elephant Conservation Response Unit in Tangkahan, I am left with conflicting emotions.

This facility opened in 2002 after numerous instances of human-elephant conflict devastated both local communities and elephant populations. In Sumatran towns like Bukit Lawang, elephant habitats have been shrinking due to the high rates of deforestation. The rainforests are being cleared to make way for palm oil trees, palm oil being an important export commodity.  This environmental crisis became even more tangible as we drove through palm oil plantations for about two straight hours on our way driving to Tangkahan. With their natural jungle habitats decreasing, the Sumatran elephants have been forced into local towns in search for food. When entering human villages, the wild elephants rampage homes and gardens, leaving the people impoverished and enraged. In retaliation, village members unite to kill the “pest.”

In order to both protect the elephant populations and maintain human livelihoods, the Indonesian government began funding conservation facilities such as the one we visited. The idea in theory is to bring in only the violent wild elephants and keep them in a semi-captive environment in order to reduce the threat they pose to the nearby towns. Additionally, the elephants are then used to help patrol the forests for illegal logging and poaching of elephants, tigers, and other endangered species. Because villagers have only seen elephants in a negative light, the facility conducts environmental education programs to teach locals about the importance of protecting elephants, as well as demonstrating that they can be friendly to humans.

Once we arrived at the facility, my excitement level continued to rise as I saw the beautiful elephants walking around. There were seven female elephants and one male, all given cute names proudly displayed in the visitor center. Taking a closer look, I noticed the area that they had to roam around seemed oddly small and flat, lacking the rich biodiversity of their natural jungle habitat. We were led down to a small river where the rangers each had an elephant they were looking after. Once they commanded the elephants to sit down in the water, we were given brushes and grouped off to scrub the elephants. I picked Theo, the one male elephant of the group. While bathing him, I was grateful that I was having a truly once in a lifetime experience to be that close to an elephant in a semi-wild state. Theo seemed to enjoy the bathing as he flapped his ears and maintained a calm look in his eyes.

Once we were done bathing the elephants, a few of us lined up to get sprayed by the elephants. Feeling the tip of his trunk against my cheek, I eagerly awaited the powerful spray of water on my face. Even though I knew it was coming, it was an exciting surprise each time. The rangers handed us bags of bananas and sugar cane to feed the elephants. This became a playful game as I figured out the best way to place the fruit in their mouths or trunks. The rangers then lined up the elephants and asked us to step back. This was the turning point of the experience.

The rangers started shouting out commands for the elephants to do various tricks like lifting up one leg or bending down on their hind legs. Suddenly, it felt like we were at a circus rather than an elephant conservation unit. These elephants were being used to entertain us and had gone through pain to learn these commands. I saw the elephant hooks that were used in training and later asked the head ranger more about this. He said that they used hooks when the elephants were being violent or stubborn. Elephants are smart animals and it takes a lot of work to train them. The ranger later stated how they had to use the hooks on the elephants’ heads since they “didn’t feel it on the body.”

Having lived in the United States my whole life, I have never experienced knowing what it is like to consider an elephant a pest. For this reason, I must acknowledge my inherent bias in the way I view elephants. However, I am trying to harmonize the differing mentalities in the case of managing human elephant conflict.

When first hearing about the elephant conservation facility, I imagined a place that would attempt to mimic the wild habitat as closely as possible for the comfort of the animals. I thought the unit would be operated with conservation motives as the primary goal, but the closer I looked at what was happening, it seemed like more of green-washing scheme. While the tourist revenue is essential for managing the facility (the government no longer provides funding), it may not be best for the elephants. I was again surprised when I found out that there is no plan for the elephants to be re-introduced into the wild after having stayed in the conservation unit. Yet it is important to understand that these elephants would have likely been killed if it weren’t for this facility.

It is difficult to find a perfect solution for the problems of human-elephant conflict. However, I think it is important to look back to the root cause of this problem– deforestation. Deforestation in Indonesia is being driven by human demand for palm oil. Creating tourist funded conservation units does protect some elephants from being killed and provides the local community with a sense of protection for the safety of their homes and fields. Nonetheless, this is not the ideal situation since it acts as a band-aid, treating only a symptom of the deeper problem.

I left the elephant facility with conflicting emotions, trying to decide if this type of facility was actually helping the elephants, or if it was turning them into show animals for tourist attraction. As a tourist, what had I just partaken in? Was it wrong that I enjoyed washing the elephants and having them spray me?

It was an incredible opportunity for us since it is impossible to interact with elephants in such a way when they are in their naturally wild state. While enjoying this type of playful interaction, it is important to recognize the faults and the benefits of this type of conservation strategy. While it does allow for the elephants’ survival, it keeps them in a captive state mostly removed from their jungle habitat. Bringing tourists to the area generates revenue to maintain the conservation project, but training the elephants in a circus-type way for show does not further environmental education goals.

Overall, I am happy to have experienced all of this, and am grateful to have spent time with the elephants. However, when looking at the photos of our smiling faces washing the elephants, it is important to consider the factors I have mentioned as a disclaimer.

– Neda Movahed

Photo Credit: T. Hilde

Challenges to Balinese Subaks

While walking through the rice fields of Indonesia, I noticed that it felt oddly similar to being in farmland in the US. In both places, people have transformed the landscape beyond natural recognition to fit human needs. The Balinese created a system of water canals that have sustainably grown rice and other crops for thousands of years, but it is now being threatened by a combination of factors. After hearing subak farmers and Professor Wiwik Dharmiasih speak about the subaks, I came to the realization that, despite their very different histories, the subaks and American farming face the same problems.

A major threat to the subak system is the degradation of soil and loss of paddy ecology. American farmers are also dealing with a similar problem. To increase soil fertility, American farmers apply chemical fertilizers and pesticides that come with a host of new problems. Farmers in the subak system started using chemical fertilizers in the 1970’s after the Green Revolution when they switched from using Balinese rice to new rice. New rice can be harvested after three months of cultivation, unlike Balinese rice, which takes up to six months to harvest. A push to grow more food to supply a growing population was the main reason for these changes. American farmers also felt the pressure to increase their yield and changed their system to industrial agriculture dominated by monocultural methods for corn, soybeans and wheat. The Balinese have not transitioned into large scale industrial farming because it is not possible with the terraced landscape, but they still often face the problems associated with pesticides and synthetic fertilizers, which flow down the system of irrigation if used by farmers upstream.

Another problem facing the subak system is the low income of rice farmers. The younger generation is increasingly deciding against becoming farmers. This is happening as well in the US. In both countries, the average age of farmers is increasing and the next generation knows there is little money in farming. In Bali, young people want the more profitable jobs in the tourist industry.

Commercial development and land conversion are the final problems that the subak system must overcome. Farmers can make more money from selling their land to a commercial developer than from rice farming. American farmers are having the same dilemma over whether to keep their farm that gives them little steady income or sell the land to some commercial developer for a large lump sum.

As Professor Dharmiasih put it in her presentation, farming needs to be made “sexy” again. The younger generation needs the desire to farm. However, that still does not solve the problem of the unprofitability of farming compared to the high profitability of land development. Subsidies are paid to farmers in the US, but it is simply not enough. The Balinese see farming the subaks as the poor man’s job. However, in Indonesia the subaks are also seen as cultural heritage, which is starting to change peoples’ minds about farming. Unfortunately in the US farming does not have the same deep roots. In July 2012, several subaks were added as a World Heritage site to protect them from being developed. UNESCO has been working with the farmers to ensure that their land will only be used for subak farming. There are programs similar to this in the US, such as in Maryland, where a farmer can sell his development rights to the state.
Even though both the Balinese and American systems of agriculture are on opposite sides of the world, they each share the same problems. The two different world views can teach each other an immense amount of knowledge that will hopefully improve both systems for generations to come.

-Jessica Rupprecht

Photo Credit: L. Ahlman

Temples in Bali: A Symbol of Life and Faith

As we walked down 268 winding steps at the Gunung Kawi Temple we couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the landscape and location. For most Western thinkers the location could seem like a simple landmark of beauty, but for the Balinese every aspect of this sacred place has a meaning and a purpose.

Taking the steps down to the Gunung Kawi Temple.

Balinese Hinduism is all about balance, every positive has a negative and it is important to understand that neither can exist without the other. Similarly, there is a paradise and a hell. It is said that in ancient Bali, paradise was easy to find while you had to work to get to hell, one day God heard the people talking about the simplicity of finding paradise, and moved paradise to a hidden place. This is symbolized in the location of any Balinese Temple. The temples are always located in a hard to reach location to symbolize the notion that people need to “work hard to get the good”. This is only the beginning of the symbolism integrated into these sacred places.

As we visited the different subak systems it became evident that religion and faith was integral to their success. Every rice farm has its own temple, every subak system has another temple, and then there are multiple higher levels, representing different aspects of the subak, for a collection of subaks. While the purpose and level of each temple varies, the structure and layout of the temples is uniform. The architecture is symbolic of a human, split into three distinct parts: the head, the center, and the feet. The feet represent the open part of the temple, this is the area where people are free to socialize and eat.

People bathing in the holy water.

The center is where you prepare to enter the head; in this area people can be seen bathing in holy water. Lastly, the head is where the deities sit, to enter this area you must free your mind of any ill notions and abide by a set of rules.

For example, before entering the head of the temple, people should wear a sarong. The sarong shows respect and presents humans in a beautiful way to the Gods. In addition, many people can be seen wearing a small sash around their waist so that it covers up the naval. The naval is considered to be a source of anger and jealousy and when you enter a temple you need to have clear and calm aura, thus the sash is worn to limit the negative energy. Women are also asked to tie their hair back. Open hair is a sign of someone who is wild and beastlike, by tying your hair back you are showing that your wildness is tamed and in control.

Students Neda Movahed and Matthew Popkin pose in the “foot” of the temple after properly tying their sarongs

As you prepare to enter the head you will see a series of intricately carved statues that represent guards that protect the deities residing in the head. While these intricate statues can be seen outside the head of the temple, inside you will not find detailed carvings and statues. The Balinese believe that the deities are already sitting in the temple and therefore there doesn’t need to be a physical statue of the deity but just a symbol of their presence. Also, in older temples the entrance to the head of the temple is often low to symbolize the need for people to bow before entering the home of these deities.

As we walked through the head we saw small baskets made from leaves. These little baskets are handmade to hold the daily offerings to be presented to the deities; each basket is hand woven using banana or coconut leaves. Inside the base of the basket you will find a small piece of a betel leaf, which represents the three central Gods in Balinese Hinduism: Brahma, Visnu, and Siva. The center of the basket is filled with flowers and at times rice. Rice represents life in Balinese Hinduism.

The head of the this subak system and our guide, Wiwik, receive offerings of holy water and rice before we proceed through to the “head” of the temple.

Rice is also placed on the forehead to represent a third eye to thank the gods for the rice and life. After praying, the Balinese will additionally place rice on their forehead, their chest, and eat three grains. This represents the notion that you will live with a clean mind, soul, and always speak kindly.

After walking through the subaks and talking with the locals about the importance of faith and the essential role God plays in this farming system, it was amazing to walk through these serene locations and understand what these temples truly mean to the Balinese and understand the importance of all the small nuances of the temple which could easily be misunderstood.

Source of Holy water at the Pura Tirtha Temple. Legend says there is large black fish that swims here that is only visible to the priest, if an average person sees this fish his or her wish will be granted

-Namrata Garg

Photo Credits: Namrata Garg

Subaks and Game Theory

All terraces in a subak are connected to one canal and therefore have one source of water to share. Water can be redirected easily by putting blocks in entrances to some fields and opening others. The blockings and openings and amounts of time given for the distribution are all decided upon by voting that must conclude with a unanimous decision. It would be easy for a farmer to redirect the water without being noticed by the other farmers briefly by placing a stone barrier in the way.

Cheating the unanimous decisions is so rare that when asked about the problem of cheating, Professor Wyan Windia, our guide and mentor in our first subak, had a difficult time directly answering the question. So, why is cheating the system so extremely rare?

Professor Wayan tells us that the gods are always watching the farmers. Even if they are not caught by other farmers, bad karma comes if anyone goes against the decision of the group. However, this same reasoning is not enough to prevent cheating elsewhere–Faith is not enough to explain the complete trust found in this system.

As it turns out, behavior within in subaks can be informed using game theory. The game has been played for centuries with families of the same farmers, so it is repetitive. Farmers live together and know each other, so cheating is always known. If one farmer is constantly cheating, others in the Subak can completely cut off the water supply, even exiling them from the community.

Since all farmers have incentives to cooperate, there is very little reason to cheat. However, in the larger scale community of all connected subaks, chemical fertilization has resulted in a significant problem.

Recently, there has been a push to have rice terrace farmers go back to organic farming. In order to be considered organic, the rice cannot be exposed to chemical fertilization. The problem arises because the farther the water is from the mountain, the more likely it is that a subak upstream has used chemical fertilizer, and that chemical fertilizer runs into all subaks downstream. Farmers farther down the stream are far less likely to cooperate in this game because they have imperfect information about the use of chemical fertilizer upstream.

In order to incentivise organic farming downstream, the farmers must all have access to information to see whether or not subaks upstream are using chemical fertilizers. In this sequential game, each subak must cooperate without any cheaters, or else farmers downstream have no reason to cooperate. This entire system is far more difficult to regulate and manage than the individual subaks. Hopefully it will be possible to build trust between all subaks so that organic farming will be possible both upstream and downstream.

Alice Goldberg

Lodtundah subak

(Photo: L. Ahlman)

The Harmony of the Subak System

The downpour that began in the early hours of the morning continued as we climbed out of the vans to explore Lodtunduh subak. The subak system is a water distribution method that has been used in Bali for thousands of years. Our group walked down a narrow mud path stopping in spurts to discuss the canal running alongside us. We then proceeded to explore the subak on foot, walking single file down grass pathways separating the rice paddies. We navigated the slippery trails and arrived back at the compound to further discuss the intricacies of the subak organization.

The Lodtunduh subak has 60 active farmers. All of the decisions made regarding the inner workings of the subak require unanimous consent. This means that the 60 farmers gather in the small cement room that we all huddled into, to make decisions regarding water distribution for each farmer. If one farmer requests additional water for their area of land, the subak as a whole decides whether this request will be granted. The Balinese refer to this water transfer as ‘borrowing,’ but this term differs from the American understanding of borrowing, which involves incurring debt. When a member of the subak requests water, the council deliberates, and the request is typically granted. However, the farmer who has been granted the additional water does not then owe the subak any debt. Rather, the transfer builds social capital between the farmers. The farmer who has received additional water will then offer the same help to a fellow subak member.

This exchange led many people in the class to ask about the formal structure in place to keep people from cheating the system. For instance–what is there to stop one farmer from diverting additional water to their land without telling the other subak members? This question puzzled Professor Wyndia and illustrated a fundamental difference in the thinking of Americans and Indonesians. The subak members were confused as to why someone would choose to cheat when they could get what they needed simply by asking. As a class we were thinking about the subak as a profit driven farming technique rather then a lifestyle focused relationships and harmony.

The subak system demonstrates harmony between man and man, man and nature and man and g-d. The council of subak members, who deliberate to reach a mutually acceptable consensus, illustrates the relationship between men. The relationship between man and nature is illustrated by the care and attention that each farmer accords to his land and water. The relationship between man and g-d is highlighted in the importance of the temple and the religious rituals of the farmers. The sustainability of the subak system makes it an attractive example for study and replication in other contexts. One barrier to implementing a subak-like structure in the US is the exclusion of religion from all aspects of public life. For a subak-like structure to function in the US the religious aspect of the subak would need to be substituted with another equally powerful force. One suggestion offered as a substitute was patriotism. Rather then relying on the emotional pull of the g-ds, relying on patriotism to inspire people to join a subak structure could be an interesting experiment. 

-Valerie Caplan

On the Road to Bali

Team Indonesia leaves today. More soon!

(Photo: TH)