Here at MCD, I have been working wholeheartedly at learning about how community-based eco-tourism development in partnered coastal communities might help to diversify livelihoods, lessen the strain on coastal resources, provide opportunities for women, and educate locals and tourists alike about the impacts of climate change and the importance of environmental conservation. Despite this new learning, my outlook on tourism has been quite conflicted since I first arrived in Hanoi. The theory and practice of tourism we talk about at MCD is contrasted with the bustling tourism I witness in Hanoi’s Old Quarter, populated by foreign visitor coming from various places. I have met many travellers from Europe, North America, South America, Israel, Australia, New Zealand, and Japan. Though the travel style, philosophy, and goals of these people are extremely diverse, I cannot stop thinking about the freedom of mobility their (and my) relative economic power affords us here in Vietnam. Though Vietnam will likely become a middle-income country next year, the exchange rate and cost of living is incredibly low here (relative to high-income countries) and while I may be able to travel around Vietnam for a fraction of what it would cost me to live in Canada, middle-class Vietnamese people living and working full time likely do not enjoy this same privilege. Though I am beginning to acknowledge the more nuanced complexities of global mobility, I cannot forget about the responsibility that comes with it.

Many people are struck with a kind of intense guilt when confronted with the reality of global inequity or the shocking reality of absolute poverty, so much so that international aid agencies (some, I would argue, whose primary functions are to self-promote and absolve guilt for those who give generously) are a multi-million dollar industry. The discomfort of knowing that I am part of this global machine that demands this kind of poverty to support the kind of excess we in North America enjoy, is deeply unsettling. Poverty is not isolated. Countries are not inherently ‘poor,’ they are made poor in relation to how they are able to participate in an increasingly globalized world economy. I am a part of it, and I must sit with discomfort, but I also have agency. I can make choices about how I will relate to it. Though the standard of living in Hanoi mostly very good, inequality is increasingly apparent as I travel to rural parts of the Red River Delta, and explore outlying areas of the city.

A few weeks ago I got the chance to join my MCD colleagues on a trip to the field. In the commune of Giao Xuan, a buffer community for Xuan Thuy National Park in Nam Dinh Province, situated in the Red River Delta, we put on a week long series of events to showcase the partnership between Giao Xuan and MCD. Many people joined in the festivities and we celebrated the strengths of the community while highlighting opportunities for growth. I got to experience the hospitality of a rural home-stay with Ms. Thin, a woman who heads up the ecotourism cooperative in the community. The community-based ecotourism model not only helped me to feel more integrated in the lives and realities of local people, but also to feel more of a sense of responsibility for maintaining the cultural and ecological integrity of Giao Xuan.

Community-based ecotourism (CBET) models are emerging globally as a model for sustainable development that utilize the growing industry of tourism for income-generation, but also address the social and ecological problems inherent in unchecked tourism development. In order for tourism to be considered community-based, it must be owned and managed by the community itself, benefiting all of the community’s members. This is often achieved by redirecting a percentage of income generated through CBET activities to community funds to invest in infrastructure and other community-wide projects. For tourism to be considered ‘eco-tourism’, it must be intrinsically linked to ecological conservation. Its goal must not only be to impede the degradation of ecosystems, but also to educate community members and tourist about ecology and biodiversity which may also, in turn, contribute to greater awareness and public support for ecological conservation. Since tourists often travel to places with natural beauty, maintaining this is intrinsic to the success of tourism in a community. Conservation is essential for tourism, while CBET provides communities with an alternative livelihood, which can contribute to relieving the strain on coastal resources from over exploitation by means of traditional resource-based livelihoods. Of course this explanation over-simplified and there are many political, social, and economic complexities that complicate the process, but this is the general idea, as I understand it. The tourism in Giao Xuan showcases the diverse species of birds that stop over along their migration route, the most rare and sought-after being the black spoonbill. It also introduces tourists to the traditions and culture of rural coastal people. Though I enjoyed many aspects of my time in Giao Xuan, I must admit that my favourite part of the week was tasting the creations of the teams competing in the cooking competition.

Though I cannot take on global inequity myself, I can cease contributing to an unhealthy culture of entitlement. As a westerner, I represent something here that is larger than just myself. In terms of my ethical outlook, I believe that tourism can and should be done responsibly, and that I play a role in shaping the demands on what kinds of tourism will become popularised and marketable. I believe that as travellers, we should ensure that our dollars are going to preserving and not destroying the places we travel to.

-Susie

Susie Miller is working for five months as an Environmental Communication and Outreach Assistant with the Centre for Marinelife Conservation and Community Development (MCD), in Hanoi, Vietnam.