S2, E7: Tourism Was Damaging Kerala. So Kerala Took Action.

Kerala is one of the most beautiful states in southern India, featuring sandy beaches, lagoons, and rich cultural traditions that attract travelers from around the globe. However, 15 years ago, the impact of tourism was becoming detrimental. It could have led to a downward spiral, but instead, it didn’t. In this week’s episode of Unpacked, journalist Paige McClanahan—host of the Better Travel Podcast—visits Kerala to discover how the government responded and to witness the transformative changes that ensued.

Transcript

Aislyn Greene, host: Travel can often seem straightforward. However, it’s not always easy to grasp the effects our journeys have on the destinations we visit. How do local communities perceive tourism? Who truly benefits from our presence? Today, we’re headed to a place that has figured out how to approach tourism responsibly.

I’m Aislyn Greene, the associate director of podcasts at Dinogo, and this is Unpacked, the podcast that explores complex travel topics every week. Today, you’ll hear from Paige McClanahan, the host of the Better Travel Podcast. Paige is a journalist living in the French Alps and has dedicated a significant part of her career to exploring the very issues we’ll be delving into today, such as overtourism, sustainability, and more. Last year, she traveled to Kerala, a state in southern India, after hearing about its remarkable transformation in the travel sector. Her narrative is part travelogue—making you want to book a ticket and fly there immediately—and part guide on how to foster a better travel environment. Simple enough, right? So let’s dive in.

Paige McClanahan, host: Welcome to the heart of a Hindu temple in Vaikom, a quaint city located in the state of Kerala. I find myself on the southwest coast of India, close to the southern tip of the country. This temple, which we will revisit later in the episode, is just one of the many attractions that draw visitors to Kerala—a region celebrated for its lagoons, pristine beaches, rich cultural traditions, and a cuisine so aromatic and flavorful that I can almost savor it now.

For all these reasons and more, Kerala—often referred to as “God’s own country”—draws travelers from around the globe. In 2019, the state welcomed 16 million tourists, surpassing the number of visitors to Denmark, Iceland, or even New Zealand that year. Though Kerala is relatively small—about half the size of South Carolina—it has a population of 34 million, comparable to California’s. Tourism here is a major industry, contributing over 10 percent to the state’s GDP. However, until recently, the benefits of tourism were not reaching many locals.

As a travel journalist, I’ve come to Kerala because I’ve learned that over the last 15 years, the state has significantly revamped its tourism sector. I’ve covered the issues and repercussions associated with tourism in places like Pompeii, Barcelona, Hawaii, and even in my own surroundings in the French Alps. Yet, in Kerala, I’ve been informed that they’ve found a way to make tourism beneficial for both visitors and residents alike. So, I’ve traveled all the way from my home in France to see this for myself.

***

Paige: I’m gliding along a broad canal in a traditional boat known as a shikara. Accompanying me is my guide, Sabu, a man in his fifties with short-cropped hair and a thick mustache. He’s joined by Suresh, our driver, a gentle soul who often smiles at me from his spot at the back of the boat. Both men are dressed in polo shirts and lungis—traditional cloth wraps that they’ve folded to rest just above the knee. Together, the three of us are en route to a neighborhood called Aymanam, where I’m set to experience what’s known as a “Village Life Experience”—a popular tour that will fill most of the morning. For now, though, I’m soaking in the scenery from the boat: the canal is flanked by lush, jungle-like forests that intermittently give way to glimpses of family homes or temples. As we pass a cluster of water lilies, Sabu skillfully picks one and weaves its long stem into a necklace, which he gently drapes around my neck.

At our first destination, we arrive at a low dock, and the three of us step out of the boat. Sabu guides me along a short path to a charming single-story family home painted a vibrant shade of pink. This isn’t just any house—it’s the residence of Suresh, our boat driver, who greets me with a smile as he introduces me to his wife, Ajitha, who has come out to welcome us. A few healthy-looking chickens are scratching around in the dirt at our feet, searching for something to eat. Surrounding us, the family garden is teeming with vibrant flowering plants, shrubs, and trees I can’t identify. Sabu begins to give me a tour, picking leaves, crushing them between his fingers, and then holding them up to my nose for a whiff.

Paige: Wow, what is that aroma?

Sabu: That’s nutmeg.

Paige: Nutmeg, interesting. Wow!

Paige: Nutmeg, wild ginger, turmeric, lemongrass, tamarind. Sabu shows me all these fascinating plants and more. And, of course, there are palm trees, laden with coconuts. At one point, Suresh hands me a bunch of small bananas he just picked, then climbs a nearby tree to grab a coconut. He skillfully hacks at it with his machete, opening a hole at the top and passing it to me so I can enjoy the sweet water inside.

Sound effect: Machete slicing into a coconut

Paige: Incredible, thank you!

Paige: We return to the yard in front of the house, where Ajitha, Suresh’s wife, is seated on a burlap sack. Before her lies a pile of coarse brown fibers from coconut husks. Ajitha demonstrates how she twists the rough material between her hands until it unwinds away from her, forming a thin, sturdy rope. Then, she takes my hands in hers and guides me in making some rope myself, which emerges from my palms as if by magic.

Since I don’t speak Malayalam and Ajitha doesn’t know English, we communicate through smiles and gestures. Sabu occasionally steps in to translate, but we manage to understand each other quite well. After our ropemaking session, Ajitha invites me inside the house to the family’s living room. With a grin, she picks up one of her saris—a cream and burgundy one adorned with shimmering golden threads—and begins to drape the luxurious fabric around my waist and over one shoulder. She beams at me, clearly pleased with her handiwork.

Ajitha and her husband, Suresh, are welcoming me into their home. While it could feel like a performance, the genuine warmth and joy on their faces as they show me around make it feel more like a visit with a neighbor rather than a tour. Thanks to the initiatives from the government of Kerala, Ajitha and Suresh are also earning a living through this experience.

Later that day, I make my way to a nearby village called Maravanthuruthu. The residents here have observed the benefits that neighboring communities have reaped from the new tourism initiatives and are eager to join in. Kayaking as an activity is still in its experimental stage here—I’m actually the very first visitor to give it a go. Accompanied by my kayaking guide, Ajmal, I paddle through narrow canals adorned with vines and branches, scattered with water lilies. During our hour on the water, Ajmal and I spot long-necked black cormorants, white egrets, slender gray herons, and eagles screeching from their lofty perches in the trees above us.

As the day winds down and the shikara boat glides back to my hotel, I ask Sabu for his thoughts on tourism. He shares that it has created jobs within his community, making a significant impact. Sabu, 56 years old, has been working as a tour guide since leaving the Indian Army over a decade ago, making him one of the pioneers in Kerala’s responsible tourism efforts. Nowadays, Sabu observes young people finding employment in tourism, which he believes is a positive development: it allows them to work in their village without having to relocate as they once did. Additionally, Sabu notes that this trend encourages the younger generation to learn about and safeguard their heritage and traditions.

***

Paige: My Village Life Experience leaves me utterly captivated. I’m eager to delve deeper into how and why this kind of tourism has flourished in Kerala. Luckily, my visit coincides with that of Dr. Harold Goodwin, the founder and director of the International Center for Responsible Tourism. Dr. Goodwin also serves as an advisor to the Kerala government, a relationship established over a decade ago when it became evident that the tourism sector needed transformation.

Harold Goodwin: In 2008, when they hosted the first international conference on responsible tourism in destinations, it became apparent that two major issues were concerning the local communities. The first was that they were not reaping any economic benefits from tourism, and the second was the waste and debris left behind by tourists.

Paige: Just 15 years ago, tourism in Kerala was anything but beneficial for local communities. In fact, residents were so frustrated with certain elements of the industry that they took to the streets in protest. But here's the silver lining: the government took note of their concerns.

Harold: The approach they adopted was remarkably astute; they decided to run an experiment. In four distinct villages, they tested four different strategies aimed at enhancing the benefits for local communities. As a result, they gained significant insights into effective practices. Kumarakom, the village where we are recording this, emerged as the standout success story.

The situation unfolding in Kerala serves as a model for how tourism can positively impact local communities, partly through the Village Life Experience and partly by forming producer groups—bringing together small producers of textiles and food into cohesive groups to meet the volume demands of hotels.

Paige: Dr. Goodwin explains that the local village councils, known as panchayats, have played a crucial role in determining how travelers engage with their communities. This setup—where communities establish the rules—is quite remarkable for managing what’s termed 'community tourism,' according to Dr. Goodwin. He points out that in many cases, affluent tourists pay to visit a village while the local residents receive no compensation and aren’t even consulted about their willingness to host visitors. In such situations, 'community tourism' can often resemble exploitation.

However, Dr. Goodwin has encouraging news about Kerala. The community-driven tourism initiatives launched in Kumarakom over a decade ago are now being implemented throughout Kerala and beyond. In 2017, the state government officially adopted Responsible Tourism as its tourism policy and established a dedicated office to oversee its implementation across the state. Dr. Goodwin mentions that the current head of this organization, Rupesh Kumar, was once a vocal critic of the tourism industry. In fact, he was among the citizens who protested against the adverse effects of tourism in Kerala more than 15 years ago. Eventually, the government brought him on board to help resolve these issues.

Rupesh Kumar: The narrative of the responsible tourism movement in Kerala is fundamentally one of shifting from conflict to collaboration.

Paige: That's him: Rupesh Kumar, the director of Kerala's Responsible Tourism Mission. Kumar was born and raised in Kumarakom, where he still resides with his wife and teenage daughter. He shares that he has witnessed significant transformations in the state's tourism sector over the years.

Rupesh Kumar: In Kumarakom, there was considerable conflict between tourism, industry, and the local community. In 2007, the local self-government, or panchayat, passed a resolution stating that they could no longer support the tourism industry.

Paige: Kumar explains that, at that time, tourism in Kerala functioned largely in a vacuum, disconnected from local communities: they didn't employ local residents or procure their supplies from local producers. As Kumar points out, not a single vegetable, egg, or even a drop of milk came from Kerala's farmers—all were imported from other regions of India. Meanwhile, rice paddies were being filled in to create space for tourism development.

Rupesh: As a result, people felt victimized by tourism development. The waste generated by tourism was dumped in the same locations without any effective scientific waste management systems in place. Consequently, the residents of Kumarakom suffered, as they lost their traditional livelihoods in agriculture and fishing due to the conversion of paddy fields into hotels and resorts.

These issues led to a significant conflict between the tourism industry and the local community. We never opposed tourists; instead, we demanded that local residents have a stake in tourism.

Paige: The locals raised their voices, and the local government took action. They organized the inaugural conference on responsible tourism in 2008, which initiated pilot projects for community-focused tourism. They also established producer groups to connect local farmers and artisans with buyers in Kerala’s tourist restaurants and resorts. Additionally, they reached out to Kerala’s tour operators and travel agents, persuading 70 percent of them to promote the tours and activities associated with the Responsible Tourism movement—like the Village Life Experience I enjoyed in Aymanam. Rupesh mentions that this approach has proven effective: a 2015 survey indicated widespread community support for the tourism sector. Among over 2,000 local families surveyed, only six reported negative impacts from tourism. Now, Rupesh is assisting other Indian governments in learning from Kerala’s successes.

Rupesh: This model can be replicated anywhere in India and around the globe. It is a process that involves various experiments; some of our trials did not succeed, and that too is part of our learning experience. We do not attempt to replicate those failures in other regions of Kerala. However, there are many positive and successful stories that can be shared.

The tourism board of Madhya Pradesh has already signed an agreement with us. We have a memorandum of understanding with them, and they are implementing it effectively in their own way, with our support for mutual benefits and transparency in tourism. We are prepared to assist anyone and replicate what’s happening in Kerala across the globe.

Paige: As I observe more of what is thriving in Kerala, I find myself wondering: can this tourism model be applied elsewhere? It seems the answer is yes. Governments in South Africa and The Gambia are already considering similar strategies: village life experiences, producer groups, and partnerships with hotels, resorts, travel agents, and tour operators. However, one crucial aspect might be difficult to replicate: the effectiveness and responsiveness of government from the state level down to the local panchayat, or village council. In tourism—just like in any industry or human activity—issues will inevitably arise over time. The key, as demonstrated in Kerala, is that leaders listened to the concerns of residents and took decisive action.

***

Paige: On my final day, I’ve booked another Village Life Experience. This time, I’m heading to Vaikom, a quaint city that takes about thirty minutes to reach by tuk tuk. Here, I will visit the Hindu temple we heard about at the beginning of the episode. The entire complex spans eight acres in the heart of the city, featuring a large gravel courtyard surrounded by tall walls, with the temple building—boasting stout white pillars and an orange-tiled roof—positioned right at the center.

My guide for this visit is Sundarasen, a slender man in his fifties. He meets me at a designated spot along a bustling road by the temple’s north gate, but we aren't entering just yet. First, Sundarasen takes me to his parked motorbike, where he retrieves a heavy cloth wrap from beneath the seat. Although I’m wearing a dress that reaches below my knees with black leggings underneath, I need a longer wrap to enter the temple. He helps me fashion the cloth into a skirt that drags along the damp road. Then, he asks me to remove my shoes, which he places alongside his own in the motorbike's seat. We then walk barefoot along the muddy path to the temple entrance.

Upon entering, a paved path leads through a wide, sand-covered yard toward the temple itself. Groups of people hurry by in the pouring rain. Sundarasen informs me that photography and videography are prohibited inside, but discreet audio recording is acceptable.

I switch on the recorder as we pass through the temple’s majestic entrance hall. We move past bare-chested men playing drums and an unfamiliar long, reeded instrument. Entering an inner sanctum, we see clusters of worshipers—some gathered near a golden statue of a deity, others next to a towering display of lamps. Sundarasen guides me to the edge of the square inner courtyard, where a man dips his finger into a bowl of ash and marks my forehead. Sundarasen explains that this mark will shield me from evil.

As we explore the temple, I discover it’s renowned for more than just its association with Hindu deities. In the 1920s, it was the backdrop for a non-violent protest that spanned an impressive 603 days—over a year and a half. Sundarasen explains that the protesters were advocating for basic rights for all individuals, regardless of caste, as a century ago, many locals faced significant discrimination.

Sundarasen: Individuals from lower castes were prohibited from entering the temple, worshipping God, receiving an education, or even walking on public roads in Kerala. In response, under the guidance of several spiritual leaders, they initiated a nonviolent movement known as Satyagraha. This approach is grounded in nonviolence. Ultimately, they succeeded in gaining the right to use the roads, irrespective of caste, color, or race. This marked the first agitation in Kerala against human discrimination.

Paige: It becomes clear to me that the people of Kerala are unafraid to voice their concerns when they encounter issues and injustices—whether in tourism or other areas. Their resolve can truly make a significant difference, transforming lives for the better. I believe Kerala holds valuable lessons for tourist destinations across the globe, including the French village I call home.

As Sundarasen and I head toward the exit, I take a moment to soak in the sounds and aromas of the temple—and the profound lessons of Kerala, a place that I know will remain in my memory long after I return home.

Aislyn: That concludes this episode. Thank you, Paige. To learn more about Kerala’s tourism initiatives, including the village life experiences, visit keralatourism.org. To hear more from Paige, you can follow her on the Better Travel Podcast, available wherever you listen to podcasts, or check out her website at paigemcclanahan.com. As always, we’ll include all the links in our show notes.

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