Life's a drag on Komodo island

KOMODO, Indonesia —

Mohammed Sidik used to sell goats to Komodo National Park to feed to the wild Komodo dragons, the world's largest lizards, in a gory display for tourists.

Park officials banned the practice a decade ago because they worried that the dragons were becoming lazy. Now the 10-foot-long predators waddle three miles to this squalid coastal village, raid Sidik's herd and eat his goats for free.

"For the last two years, they have been coming to the village," said Sidik, 60, who has lost seven animals to the dragons. "When they get thirsty, they come down to our well. The park no longer feeds goats to the dragons, so now the dragons come here."

The dragons' visits highlight how things have gone in Komodo National Park since its founding in 1980: great for dragons, not so great for people (and still not good for goats).

The park, about 300 miles east of Bali, is one of the few places in Indonesia where people are scarce. It is also one of the few places in the country where the need to protect nature has been placed above the economic interests of people. The result is a park that is pristine and well-protected, a rare species that appears to be thriving, a place where damaged coral reefs are making a comeback and the human population lives in squalor.

Komodo National Park boasts crystal-clear water, miles of deserted beaches and world-class dive sites where rushing currents help protect the reefs from bleaching. A visitor can sail among the park's islands all day and only occasionally see another boat.

The creation of the park, which the U.S.-based Nature Conservancy helps manage, brought sharp restrictions on the ways in which villagers could make a living. Hunting, farming and logging in dragon habitat was banned. So were bombing the reefs with homemade explosives and fishing with cyanide.

Amid the influx of tourists, little has been done to create new economic opportunities for the villagers.

"What we regret most is that we welcomed the national park with open arms, but they haven't done anything for us in 20 years," said Amin Bakar, the village secretary.

The park was established in part to protect the Komodo dragon, which is found only on the islands in or near the park. The species, which became known to scientists less than a century ago, is officially classified as vulnerable. Today, there are about 5,000 dragons in the wild.

Komodo island's population is tiny, roughly 1,300 in Komodo village and a dozen or so who stay at the park headquarters. The ramshackle village stretches along Loh Liang bay to the south, and its setting is spectacular. It sits on a narrow strip of land, with steep hills rising behind it.

The island's beauty stands in stunning contrast to the poverty of the village.

"It used to be easy for us to hunt for deer and get food, and we used to chop down the trees to build houses, and if we wanted to go fishing, it was unlimited," said Mala, who, like many Indonesians, goes by one name.

Mala, 35, sells food and toiletries to her neighbors from a kiosk next to her house. "Since the national park," she said, "we have been half-dead to get something to eat because everything is restricted."

Komodo is one of the poorest villages in Indonesia, a country where more than a quarter of the population lives below the official poverty line, on family income of less than $75 a month.

Most of the flimsy houses appear to have been made from scrap lumber. Built on stilts, some lean precariously. Men and women lounge beneath the structures, which offer the only shade in the village.

Komodo has no power lines; at night, generators provide electricity. Women fetch water from a well in jugs they balance on their heads. They cook over open fires. The only street is unpaved, but there are no cars anyway, just a couple of motorbikes.

There is no sewage system, and inevitably waste ends up in the bay. Near the shore, the sea is a filthy brown. Trash floats on the surface and litters the beach. When the tide is out, dozens of fishing boats sit in mud.

School here ends with sixth grade, and few families can afford to send their children for more education in Labuan Bajo, a three-hour boat ride away on Flores island. To fill their days, some children swim in the sea, others play in the dirt. A few use empty cigarette packs as toys. Chickens and goats wander through the village.

Gone are the days when fishermen using explosives could get a ton of fish in an hour. Most fishermen agree with the ban on destructive practices but complain that the park fishing rules overall are too restrictive. They say they are lucky now to haul in 40 pounds a day using traditional nets or lines.

Construction of a small hotel or guest house could give an economic boost to the community, but no outsider is likely to invest in a village where the headman demands cash from any visitor he notices entering.

Some villagers make a living carving dragons of wood or shell to sell to the few tourists who visit each day. But lack of initiative and resources condemns many to a simple life of subsistence fishing.

"This is a protected area, so you cannot do much," said Faisal, 53, a fisherman and father of six.

Many villagers resent the Nature Conservancy, known here as the TNC, for its role in setting the rules.

"People here thought the TNC had a long-term plan to raise income and the standard of living in the village," said Hermansyah Akbar, who sells wooden dragons at the park. "But so far, there has been no significant change."

The Nature Conservancy last year transferred management of the park to Putri Naga Komodo, an Indonesian company. The conservancy owns 60 percent of it, and most of the management staff remains the same.

Villagers say they get nothing from the $20 that foreign visitors, who number about 19,000 a year, pay to enter the park.

"People consider the TNC to be the enemy," said Isahaka Mansur, 55. "They think it's weird that a foreign nongovernmental organization can be so involved in the national park while we never got any part of it."

The Nature Conservancy recognizes that many residents are critical of its role in the park but says that is to be expected given the restrictions on their activities.

"You know, you cannot please everybody," conservancy spokeswoman Tri Soekirman said in Bali. "When you're doing conservation work on the ground, you will be perceived as limiting people's access."

Residents will benefit in the long term with the recovery of the reef, she said, but it is taking years for them to see that the coral and fish are reviving.

"The hardest thing is that you can't show the result immediately to everybody," she said. "But over the years, the reef is getting better naturally. People can see it, tourists can see it."