Ubud – Emerald rice paddies once stretched for mile upon mile alongside the road that winds through scenic Ubud on Indonesia's Bali island, but today just glimpses remain as hotels, restaurants and shops have risen up to block the view. Experts warn the very existence of the famed paddies on this island paradise is under threat as tourism-triggered development eats away at the irrigation systems that have nourished them for centuries.
Now farmers and hoteliers are forging an unlikely alliance to preserve the lifelines that feed Bali's lush carpets that are one of the island's major tourist attractions.
The task is pressing. Bali's rapid construction is starting to damage the fields themselves, says Wayan Kantor, head of one of Bali's more than 1,200 "subak", centuries-old networks that oversee Bali's irrigation systems, "There are some places around Ubud where planting rice is impossible because access to water irrigation has been blocked by buildings," he says.
Wayan Windia, a researcher from Udayana University, says statistics on the issue are thin, but farmers' complaints are on the rise: "The problem is more severe around cities... There have also been cases in Ubud." The subak use water supplied by the island's four mountain lakes and its crisscrossing rivers in a system that intertwines rich Hindu cultural traditions with modern technical developments to guarantee all members water access.
"Irrigation systems were the blood vessels of traditional Balinese culture and economy," says anthropologist Putu Suasta. "But that was in the old days. The modern blood vessels of the Balinese economy now are the networks of road and modern transportation, centered around the airport," he says.
Farmers are under pressure from hotels and foreigners seduced by Bali's beauty to sell off or lease their paddy – a move that earns them far more cash than they can make tilling the land themselves.
Villager Gusti Pageh, for instance, is considering leasing his 50 ares (a local unit measuring 100 square metres) of land. "You can make one million rupiah (about 100 dollars) per year for one are of land, just by leasing it to the rich," he enthuses. "And that's easy money, without risk."
In lush Ubud and its surrounds, one are of cultivated paddy can earn a farmer 80,000 rupiah per season, or triple that per year. But normally, complains farmer Gusti Ngurah Jelantik, one good season is chased by two bad. "During a bad season, we make only 50,000 or even 35,000 rupiah per are. Being a farmer is the poorest profession," he sighs.
Luh Sari, 45, leases her land to a family from the capital Jakarta. "The most important thing is that I can earn money from the land," Sari says, adding that her husband also works as a gardener for their tenants, earning a bonus 600,000 rupiah per month.
It's outsiders such as those from Jakarta, the subak's Kantor says, who are not aware of Bali's complex ecological systems and tend not to think about how their construction might impact on their neighbours.
"When one buys a piece of land, they often don't see the small irrigation channel running next to it. They don't realise that if they fill it, the farmers downstream will have no access to the water," Kantor says.
Fighting back
In a bid to highlight the issue, some subak are now inviting the outsiders to join them, he says. Traditionally, only Hindus, who are a majority on the island of Bali – unlike the rest of mostly-Muslim Indonesia – were members.
Twenty-four out of 177 members are now such "housing" members. "One day, maybe, all these places will be full of buildings, but the subak system will still be preserved by building owners. I hope it will be like that, because we have to thank the gods for the water given to us," Kantor says.
Concerned hoteliers are also starting to snap up paddy to ensure that the island stays postcard-perfect, says Cokorda Oka AA Sukawati, head of Bali's Hotel and Restaurant Association and vice chairman of the Bali Tourism Board.
"It is an interesting new trend," he says, noting that some restaurants too have their own rice fields – guests eat as they observe the farmers at work.
Agung Rai, for instance, the owner of an arts museum in Ubud as well as several hotels and restaurants around the area, leases a piece of land near his museum from a local farmer.
"Bali is a living museum of agrarian life. Our culture owes a lot to rice paddy," he says.
Rai has asked the farmer to keep working the land, so he is effectively paid to continue his usual work but does not bear the risks he would farming alone.
"I ask him to do what he normally does as a traditional farmer," he says, adding that he wants people to keep enjoying the views of the paddy.
Sue Simon, a tourist from the United States, says the rice paddies of Bali – which also lures tourists with its palm-fringed beaches and cheap, stylish shopping – says rice paddies are the real draw for her family.
"The green rice fields are number one here... We spend hours there and our children love it too." If the rice fields disappeared? "Bali would have lost one of its main attractions," she says.