The High Road or the Low Road?
Which Road Will it be for Laos?
Is there anything new to be said about tourism in general? And if so, how would it apply to Laos in particular? Also, what is the definition of small-scale tourism? Such conceptual questions were debated by a very select group of local and international specialists in tourism in Vientiane during February. After a week of straightforward discussion and unrestricted travel throughout the country, the facts were as startling as they were revealing. In fact, the seminar was originally promoted as a conference in "small-scale tourism", although its "after action" report was titled "Lao Tourism Investment Conference"- which succinctly illustrates the difference in perception before and after the deliberations.
Participants presented all those with something at stake: thus they came with vested interests from the national government, various provincial governments, international agencies and local observers connected directly or indirectly to the future of tourism in Laos. All were candid if not indeed blunt, as when Dr Lawrence Moss, the director of the National Resources and Environment Program at Bangkok's Asian Institute of Technology (more commonly known in Southeast Asia as "AIT"), frankly stated: "Comprehensive planning is too theoretical for tourism in general and Laos in particular; I've got a Ph.D. in it and it doesn't work". The audience certainly paid ardent attention after hearing that remark!
He also admitted that the so-called "literature" on small-scale tourism -often associated with "mom and pop" enterprises - is "full of description but short on analysis, thus indicating that we've got a problem". What does work, Dr Moss claimed, is "strategic planning, a 25-year framework where one manipulates the environment but doesn't abuse it, where alternative strategies are developed and the best ones are chosen as any situation unfolds". Flexibility coupled with long-term planning, then, might be called the High Road.
Such candor was infectious even among two guest speakers from Thailand, themselves both Thai and therefore eye-witnesses to the destruction caused by so-called "mass tourism" - or the lack of planning, any planning, strategic or otherwise. Said Ms Chatkaew Simaraks, the director of the Tourism Department at Chiang Mai University in northern Thailand: ``Although local income increased from (1) selling food, (2) fees charged by performing dances and (3) marketing handicrafts, selling food can lead to selling drugs, dances are out of synchronization with the Buddhist calendar, and handicrafts become inferior when not in fact often imported. Worse," she concluded, "the people become so lazy that they don't want to return to the fields to plant or harvest rice. Some give up farming altogether and migrate to our big cities, accentuating the social problems that are already there." She seemed to be stating: By all means learn from us, as we Thais are learning from ourselves.
Mr Surasak Saelai, the travel section manager for the prestigious Siam Society - whose membership roster reads like a who's who in Thailand - echoed Ms Chatkaew's sentiments. "In a worse case scenario all indigenous hospitality disappears, no true friendship remains among the villagers because everyone is in competition with each other, and their innate if rustic society essentially becomes a begging culture." His most notable warning was "don't make the people into the attraction, because if you do, they will soon lack spirit and all their customs and ceremonies will become meaningless". It would seem that the Low Road is very low indeed.
But what does the tourist want? Tim Cole, the marketing director of InnerAsia Expeditions, contrasted the potential of Laos with US$ 300-per-day tourism in Bhutan, where "pricing alone regulates entrance to the country". As a rule, his clients want "things that work in rooms, hot water, an appropriate environment, friendliness, interaction with native people, and lots and lots of walking particularly walking in a jungle because it creates a sense of adventure, which is what we're really selling". In other words, in this case what Mr Georg Lussiaa, another foreign delegate representing high priced tourism said: "Our clients want a refuge from the hustle and bustle of their work-a-day world; I what they don't want to see is what I they're trying to escape in their own country".
In such a precise marketing environment, what can undeveloped Laos offer? Dr Moss was unhesitant in defining the advantage for Laos: "Laos is in a unique situation; globally the supply of distinctive, living ethnic cultures combined with an exemplary natural environment is diminishing. Therefore, as supply declines, demand goes up." He also suggested creating "a sophisticated rationing strategy" to, as he put it in colourful if blunt language, "separate the sheep from the goats" - the sheep being the chaste, indigenous people and the goats being the tourists who will eat almost anything. What works in protecting the Pueblo Indian communities native to southwestern United States, he said, were "sensitising centres" or "welcoming facilities", where the tourist "can learn about customs and culture in, say thirty minutes". This creates a filter where the less interested move on "to the next attraction without intruding upon" the fragile flower that you are trying desperately to preserve.
Which begs the all important question. Does Laos have a plan? Speaking for the National Tourism Authority (NTA), Ms Ampornnary Kaewla, its director, said that "high-level tourism will be insured" by the granting of operating licenses to qualified personnel only. She also noted the establishment two months ago of a direct link between the NTA and the Council of Ministers, a ministerial group which reports directly to the Prime Minister himself. Not only has the former Ministry of Tourism and Commerce been abolished, but the Vietnamese and Chinese governments recently established a similar mechanism -NTAs reporting to a council and then the prime minister - for controlling unbridled growth in tourism.
Adding to her prognosis, Mr Sannya Abhay, Ms Kaewla's deputy, stated that "tourism will expand rapidly" after the new Lao-Thai Friendship Bridge opens early next year. "Nature and culture," he added, "will be the emphasis of Lao Tourism. Therefore, we envision no more than ten to twenty people being guided by a trained professional." In doing its homework, Mr Abhay stated that "the UNDP (United Nations Development Programme) has provided general environmental detail, while the provincial governments themselves have provided specific data on population, topography, foliage and fauna".
Third World, in other words, does not have to mean wholly disadvantaged. In fact, that so many distinguished national and provincial leaders and foreign and local guests would come together in Vientiane, the Laotian capital, to discuss the difficult path to an acceptable and agreeable "tourist" future speaks well in and of itself for all Laotians. "The problem to avoid," said Mr Claus Berkmuller, who is based in Vientiane with the World Conservation Union, "is having the local people end up as spectators in a game where the rules are dictated by outside interests motivated almost exclusively by greed." Or as Dr Moss concisely stated, "regarding controlled greed, we Buddhists, Moslems and Christians, for example, all preach it; few of us practice it; therefore you must control access to place and culture at all times".
Another way of looking at landlocked Laos is to view it as an almost uninhabited island in an overpopulated sea - Laos' population is a scant 17 people per square kilometre, the smallest in all East Asia. As Paul Theroux, the well-known travel writer, wrote: "There is something magical about all islands because they are cut off, distant, isolated, circumscribed by the sea. An island is adrift from the world and out of touch - untainted which is why only an island can be Paradise." During the late-twentieth century, perhaps a better description of Laos was never written.