... however, although it's aesthetically-pleasing, I'm not sure how many of you read and understand Portuguese, so I am posting the translated text to the story (as provided by Google Translate via the author) so you can understand it!
I am interspersing some additional photos (they're mine unless otherwise noted in the caption)...
The lesson on the reefs includes a game in which children wear colored gloves and stretch their arms through the holes of a sheet that is stretched over their heads, as if they were coral polyps. Meanwhile, the young educators of the Kalabia make "flow" handfuls of peanuts over the top of the sheet, which the children try to grab and devour. That way they learn that corals have two ways of feeding themselves: from the nutrients produced by the zooxanthellae in their cells, via photosynthesis, and from the plankton that they capture from the water, using their tentacles.
The landscape of Mayalibit Bay, as in the rest of Raja Ampat, is of a wild nature. An ocean bordered by limestone mountains, which were once coral reefs, but now rise abruptly from the sea, punctuated by caves and covered from head to toe in a blanket of green forest, inhabited by colorful birds of paradise, lush forests, vociferous cockatoos and simple fishermen.
Only one thing stands out from this natural setting: a trail of brown earth that starts in the village of Warsambin and snakes up the mountain, scarring the forest, toward the neighboring community of Lopintol, on the other side of the hill. The mouth of the road seems ready to swallow the huts beneath it, next to the football field.
Built in the last two years, the road was opened to connect the communities, although no one here has a car, only a couple of motorcycles. The only vehicle that uses the road regularly is a truck subsidized by the government, carrying goods and passengers to and from Waisai, the newly built administrative capital of Raja Ampat. The traditional inhabitants continue to move between the villages as they have always done: by boat, using the natural roads of water.
For environmentalists, the scar in the forest is a warning sign. The waters of the bay are protected by a conservation unit, created in 2007. But the forests above them, not. And with interconnected ecosystems it is inevitable that what happens on the surface will have consequences underwater as well.
The leader of the Marine Protected Area (MPA) of Mayalibit Bay, Abraham Goram, does not understand the purpose of the road - which he says might be extended in the coming years to circle the entire bay. "We do not need roads here, we need schools, hospitals, clean water, capacity building," says Goran, a native of the village of Waifoy. He fears the road, on top of ruining the landscape, will pave the way for deforestation and soil erosion, affecting the terrestrial and marine ecosystems on which communities depend for their survival.
Many Papuans who I spoke to on the islands also fear that their culture will be swamped by the growing influx of Indonesian immigrants from Java and Sumatra, who are already a majority in the province and dominate the labor market. "We are a minority in our own land," said Goram. Indonesia is one of the most overpopulated countries in the world, with a population 20% larger than that of Brazil, in an area 80% smaller, and highly concentrated in the islands of Java and Sumatra.
Even within the Coral Triangle, the region stands out as home to the highest marine biodiversity on the planet. More than 1,400 species of fish. More than 550 species of hard corals. A dizzying array of multicolored sea slugs, which seem dressed for carnival. Pygmy seahorses, incredibly small and well camouflaged, clinging to gorgonians. Manta rays more than 2 meters wide. Everything, sometimes in the same place. In Raja Ampat, you can spend hours underwater without a single second of boredom.
The most famous dive site in the region is Cape Kri, a submerged peninsula of the island of the same name, discovered in the early 90's by Dutchman Max Ammer, the pioneer of tourism and conservation in Raja Ampat. In 1997, he openned the first hotel in the region, the Kri Eco Resort - a handful of bungalows, a pier and a dining hall, built in traditional Papuan style, of wood and straw.
Since then, Ammer has built a second resort on the island and is about to open a marine science center, equipped with laboratories and accommodation for at least six researchers.
The only foreigners out of the nearly one hundred employees of the company are Ammer himself and the Briton Ross Pooley, who runs a pilot project of coral farming. All others are natives of Papua, trained by the resorts, from the maids to the dive guides. Nothing gives more pride to Ammer, who originally came to Papua seeking for war plane wrecks, but fell in love with the people of the region and never went back.
"When I came here I knew nothing about tourism, and I had no experience with recreational diving, but I thought this would be a good way to help the local population," says the 50-year-old Dutchman. "The most important is to create employment and income generation opportunities for the Papuans. The people here are very poor. You can talk all you want about conservation, but people still need to eat, they still want development. "
In Yenbekwan, one of the villages near the hotels, fisherman Hans Watem, also 50 years old (more or less, he is not sure), think it is a little strange that tourists will spend so much money and come from so far away just to see a coral reef. But he understands perfectly the importance of this ecosystem. "Everyone here understands now that the reefs are essential to our lives. So nobody fishes with nets or bombs anymore, "he says.
Compared to other regions of Bali and Indonesia, the reefs of Raja Ampat are in excellent condition. But they have been much better too. Until a few years ago, fishing with bombs and other destructive methods was also common here. Now the region is under the care of seven Marine Protected Areas (MPAs), established in 2007 by the government of Raja Ampat, in partnership with nongovernmental organizations.
The bombs stopped exploding, and the reefs are silently returning to their original state. The final result: more fish for the fishermen to eat, more fish for the tourists to photograph.
"What gives corals their color," asks the teacher.
"Zooxanthellae", respond the students sitting in front of him, with the excitement of a football crowd, referring to the photosynthetic microalgae that live within coral tissues, providing them with essential nutrients and pigments.
"Zooxanthellae", respond the students sitting in front of him, with the excitement of a football crowd, referring to the photosynthetic microalgae that live within coral tissues, providing them with essential nutrients and pigments.
To my surprise, we are not in a conventional classroom of neither
a school nor a university. The students are children 10 to 12 years old, the
sons and daughters of simple fishermen of Mayalibit Bay, in the region of Raja
Ampat, a group of islands on the beak of the so-called "Bird's Head",
in the northwest of Papua. The classroom is the colorful deck of Kalabia, an
old tuna boat converted into a school boat by Conservation International,
anchored in front of the village of Warsambin, near the entrance of the bay.
 |
| Kalabia moored at Warsamdin village near the mouth of Mayalibit Bay |
 |
| The Raja Ampat MPA Network (left) and Mayalibit Bay MPA. |
The question, worth 500 points in the category Coral Reefs, is
part of a playful quiz designed to test the children's knowledge about the
functioning and the purpose of marine ecosystems. After three days of course,
three groups of seven children compete for the prize of "who has learned
more": the Bubaras, the Lemmas, and the Nemos -- two names of fishes in
the local language and another, inherited from Hollywood.
The one running the game is educator Marcho Imbir, 32, a native of
the Ayau archipelago, in the far north of Raja Ampat. It is a mostly friendly
competition. Whenever a group gets the answer right, all celebrate with a round
of applause and shouts of "benar" (correct). The joy of the children
in learning is contagious. And the speed at which they learn, surprising.
"Their brains are like sponges. The lack of education here
is so great that anything you offer them they absorb immediately, "says Canadian
biologist and educator Angela Beer, who heads the project. Since 2008, the Kalabia
travels around the islands of Raja Ampat, stopping village to village to teach
children some basics of biology and educating them about the importance of
conserving the marine ecosystems from which their communities depend for
survival.
What is the importance of a coral reef and what kinds of
activities can be harmful to them? What are the ecological functions of a mangrove
and what happens to the soil when it is cleared? What is the difference between
organic and inorganic garbage? How long does a plastic bottle take to decompose
in the environment? How many years does a sea turtle live? And what is the
purpose of a Marine Protected Area (MPA)? Stuff like that. Everything is taught
through music and games, in the native language of the children - a mixture of
Indonesian with tribal dialects that varies from island to island.
It is the second time that the Kalabia returns to Warsambin, which
was the first village visited by the project in March 2008. The next stop is
Kalitoko, a smaller and more remote village, one hour further inside the bay by
speedboat. There, children group themselves in the Teterugas (sea turtles), Lumba-Lumba
(dolphins) and Buaya (crocodiles).
After three days of course, I ask little Waropen Sifra, of "more
or less" 10 years (because nobody here knows their own age for sure), what
was the coolest thing she learned. "That corals are animals and they need
to be protected," she says. "Because they are part of our nature. If
they grow well, there will be more fish on the reefs and more fish for us to
eat, " she explains.
The lesson on the reefs includes a game in which children wear colored gloves and stretch their arms through the holes of a sheet that is stretched over their heads, as if they were coral polyps. Meanwhile, the young educators of the Kalabia make "flow" handfuls of peanuts over the top of the sheet, which the children try to grab and devour. That way they learn that corals have two ways of feeding themselves: from the nutrients produced by the zooxanthellae in their cells, via photosynthesis, and from the plankton that they capture from the water, using their tentacles.
 |
| Educators Merry, Warda and Marcho as currents carrying plankton (peanuts) to feeding corals |
 |
| A single 'coral polyp' |
 |
| Kids really enjoy the interactive games that go along with lessons aboard Kalabia |
Understanding this basic biology is essential to engage children
in a culture of conservation, says Angela. "Because no one cares much about
things they do not understand."
I also ask Sifra what is her favorite animal. "The sea
turtle," she says. "I like to see when it comes to the surface to
breathe." Next, I ask if she has ever eaten turtles - a custom still
practiced in traditional communities of the region, although hunting has
already been prohibited for several years. "I have, but I will not eat them
anymore," promises Sifra, after learning that her favorite animal is
threatened with extinction.
SYMBIOSIS
The relationship of survival between the traditional communities
of Raja Ampat and their marine biodiversity is so intimate and vital as that
between the corals and their zooxanthellae. Here, there are no supermarkets, no
refrigerators, no agriculture. But there is no hunger. Each plate of food is
harvested fresh from nature: fish and shrimp from the waters of the bay, crabs
and shellfish from the mangrove mud, fruits and leaves collected from the forest
or cultivated in small home gardens. Except for rice, which some closer
villages can bring from the commercial centers of Waisai and Sorong, the staple
diet for most people of Raja Ampat is still the sagu, a pulp of palm trees
harvested from the forest.
Another indicator of proximity to urban centers - both in
geographical and cultural terms - in addition to the rice, is the amount of
inorganic waste present in each village. The more contact with the "modern
world", the greater the amount of bottles and plastic bags on the floor.
Used to packing their food in banana leaves and carrying their belongings in
baskets made of natural fibers, the traditional inhabitants have never had to
worry much about accumulation of garbage. Part of the curriculum of the Kalabia,
therefore, is to teach basic concepts of waste management -- that the soda bottles
and coffee powder packages do not "disappear" from the environment as
do the fish bones and crab shells, for example.
In Kalitoko, the amount of synthetic waste is still small. There
are only two small shops in the village, offering sweets and cigarettes. The
children now know that the accumulation of garbage brings diseases, and that many
turtles die after swallowing plastic bags which they mistake for jellyfish.
Built on a mangrove, the village has about 250 residents, including a teacher, Salmon Krey. There should be two, plus the principal, but the other teacher left off for a holiday four months ago and never returned, and the director was expelled from the community, accused of stealing government money that should have been used to purchase books and for school maintenance.
Built on a mangrove, the village has about 250 residents, including a teacher, Salmon Krey. There should be two, plus the principal, but the other teacher left off for a holiday four months ago and never returned, and the director was expelled from the community, accused of stealing government money that should have been used to purchase books and for school maintenance.
Krey alone now takes care of a class of 30 students from first to
sixth grade. The education gap in the villages of the Bay is enormous, he says,
even in relation to the rest of Raja Ampat. "Because the adults here had
no education, they do not think it is as important to their children to go to
school either. Because they do not get any better jobs for this," says the
teacher.
Before leaving the village, Angela hands Krey a box of books,
notebooks and educational comic books produced by Kalabia, so that he can
continue teaching. She knows that three days is not enough time to influence
the education of a child. But it's a start. Even with a program so short, the Kalabia
takes two years to visit each one of the approximately one hundred villages of
Raja Ampat.
 |
| Presenting the teacher with books and posters for the school |
"Unfortunately we have nothing to give to you in return,
except our thanks," says the secretary of the village of Warsambin,
Metusalak Mansoben, after receiving the books. "Today you go away, but it
is not the end, because the children will not forget what they have learned.
The only recommendation I can give is that you stay longer next time. "
 |
| A farewell ceremony performed for the Kalabia by the children who participated in the program |
After several weeks at sea, the Kalabia returns to Sorong in
September for a deserved rest. The amount of plastic waste washed up around the
harbor tells us that we are back to "civilization."
RAJA AMPAT – STORY 2
The landscape of Mayalibit Bay, as in the rest of Raja Ampat, is of a wild nature. An ocean bordered by limestone mountains, which were once coral reefs, but now rise abruptly from the sea, punctuated by caves and covered from head to toe in a blanket of green forest, inhabited by colorful birds of paradise, lush forests, vociferous cockatoos and simple fishermen.
Only one thing stands out from this natural setting: a trail of brown earth that starts in the village of Warsambin and snakes up the mountain, scarring the forest, toward the neighboring community of Lopintol, on the other side of the hill. The mouth of the road seems ready to swallow the huts beneath it, next to the football field.
 |
| Warsambin village road - photo: Christin Huffard/CI |
Built in the last two years, the road was opened to connect the communities, although no one here has a car, only a couple of motorcycles. The only vehicle that uses the road regularly is a truck subsidized by the government, carrying goods and passengers to and from Waisai, the newly built administrative capital of Raja Ampat. The traditional inhabitants continue to move between the villages as they have always done: by boat, using the natural roads of water.
For environmentalists, the scar in the forest is a warning sign. The waters of the bay are protected by a conservation unit, created in 2007. But the forests above them, not. And with interconnected ecosystems it is inevitable that what happens on the surface will have consequences underwater as well.
 |
| Warsamdin village - photo: Christin Huffard/CI |
 |
| Sedimentation smothering coral - photo: Christin Huffard/CI |
"We did a good job so far dealing with problems in the marine environment.
Now we have to deal with the threats of terrestrial origin, "says
biologist Mark Erdmann of Conservation International, a partner of the
government in creating and managing protected areas in the region.
The leader of the Marine Protected Area (MPA) of Mayalibit Bay, Abraham Goram, does not understand the purpose of the road - which he says might be extended in the coming years to circle the entire bay. "We do not need roads here, we need schools, hospitals, clean water, capacity building," says Goran, a native of the village of Waifoy. He fears the road, on top of ruining the landscape, will pave the way for deforestation and soil erosion, affecting the terrestrial and marine ecosystems on which communities depend for their survival.
I ask him
if the road should not be seen as a symbol of progress, of modernity.
"It's the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard," he replies.
Goram, like
many other native residents, is in favor of independence for Papua, which was
politically annexed to Indonesia in 1969 after centuries of Dutch rule.
"Indonesia is not good for Papua, because Indonesia doesn´t love Papua. It
loves our natural resources, "said Goram. In addition to the biological riches
of its seas, the region is rich in deposits of gold, copper and nickel.
Political
and economic issues aside, it does not take a historian to notice that Papua is
different from the rest of Indonesia. Just look at the Papuans. The difference
is stamped on their facial features, typical of Melanesia, much more black and
aboriginal than Asian. Even among Indonesians, Papua is still seen as a distant
and mysterious land, haunted by stories of cannibal tribes. A past legacy that
contrasts brutally with the friendliness of the present residents of Raja
Ampat.
Many Papuans who I spoke to on the islands also fear that their culture will be swamped by the growing influx of Indonesian immigrants from Java and Sumatra, who are already a majority in the province and dominate the labor market. "We are a minority in our own land," said Goram. Indonesia is one of the most overpopulated countries in the world, with a population 20% larger than that of Brazil, in an area 80% smaller, and highly concentrated in the islands of Java and Sumatra.
RAJA AMPAT – STORY 3
Less than
an hour after landing in Raja Ampat, I see two young sharks swimming quietly
through the shallow waters under my bungalow, on the island of Kri. Two times
more sharks than I had seen in more than 10 hours of diving in Bali, during the
two previous months. A good sign that everything I heard about Raja Ampat was,
in fact, true.
 |
| Black-tip reef shark in the shallows in Wayag island - Angela Beer |
Even within the Coral Triangle, the region stands out as home to the highest marine biodiversity on the planet. More than 1,400 species of fish. More than 550 species of hard corals. A dizzying array of multicolored sea slugs, which seem dressed for carnival. Pygmy seahorses, incredibly small and well camouflaged, clinging to gorgonians. Manta rays more than 2 meters wide. Everything, sometimes in the same place. In Raja Ampat, you can spend hours underwater without a single second of boredom.
The most famous dive site in the region is Cape Kri, a submerged peninsula of the island of the same name, discovered in the early 90's by Dutchman Max Ammer, the pioneer of tourism and conservation in Raja Ampat. In 1997, he openned the first hotel in the region, the Kri Eco Resort - a handful of bungalows, a pier and a dining hall, built in traditional Papuan style, of wood and straw.
In 2001,
Ammer invited renowned biologist Gerry Allen to make a scientific assessment of
the biodiversity of Cape Kri. "Everyone kept saying it was a special
place, that it was different, so I wanted to make sure," he says. Everyone
was right. On March 27, 2001, a team of ten scientists, led by Allen,
identified 273 species of fish in a single dive at Cape Kri. A world record,
which put Raja Ampat on the map of recreational divers and marine scientists
worldwide.
 |
| Reef scenic with Diver - SSV, Burt Jones/Maurine Shimlock |
Since then, Ammer has built a second resort on the island and is about to open a marine science center, equipped with laboratories and accommodation for at least six researchers.
The only foreigners out of the nearly one hundred employees of the company are Ammer himself and the Briton Ross Pooley, who runs a pilot project of coral farming. All others are natives of Papua, trained by the resorts, from the maids to the dive guides. Nothing gives more pride to Ammer, who originally came to Papua seeking for war plane wrecks, but fell in love with the people of the region and never went back.
"When I came here I knew nothing about tourism, and I had no experience with recreational diving, but I thought this would be a good way to help the local population," says the 50-year-old Dutchman. "The most important is to create employment and income generation opportunities for the Papuans. The people here are very poor. You can talk all you want about conservation, but people still need to eat, they still want development. "
In Yenbekwan, one of the villages near the hotels, fisherman Hans Watem, also 50 years old (more or less, he is not sure), think it is a little strange that tourists will spend so much money and come from so far away just to see a coral reef. But he understands perfectly the importance of this ecosystem. "Everyone here understands now that the reefs are essential to our lives. So nobody fishes with nets or bombs anymore, "he says.
Compared to other regions of Bali and Indonesia, the reefs of Raja Ampat are in excellent condition. But they have been much better too. Until a few years ago, fishing with bombs and other destructive methods was also common here. Now the region is under the care of seven Marine Protected Areas (MPAs), established in 2007 by the government of Raja Ampat, in partnership with nongovernmental organizations.
The bombs stopped exploding, and the reefs are silently returning to their original state. The final result: more fish for the fishermen to eat, more fish for the tourists to photograph.
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