National 2 (Spotlight Weekly)

On The Road To Nowhere

As the country's tourism industry gradually overcomes early fears of yet another disastrous season, one erstwhile visitors' hub is struggling to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

by Joe Bavier

At 9.30 am at the Hungry Eye in Sauraha on the edge of Royal Chitwan National Park, a waiter named Raju looks around his empty restaurant and longs for what once was.

“Two years ago, from 8 am to 1 o'clock the next morning, I didn't even have time to eat,” he says, the memory of an endless stream of paying foreign tourists still fresh in his mind.

“This morning I had two customers... two,” he laments, shaking his head. And from the Hungry Eye's rooftop vantage point, it's clear Raju's eatery is not alone in what is quickly becoming a tenuous struggle for survival. Looking around at what, in better times, would be considered his competition, hardly a table is occupied and restaurant staff outnumber clients by a significant margin.

Below, at Sauraha's main crossroads, shopkeepers gather in little groups gossiping or playing cards, and sprint back to man their businesses only at the rare site of a passing tourist. It's a sad fate for what was once one of Nepal's main tourist hubs.

In 1973, what had been a hunting reserve for the royal family was transformed into Royal Chitwan National Park, and, by the early eighties, the area was already experiencing the early stages of a tourism boom. As one of the few towns of any size on the periphery of the new nature preserve, most of that new business went to Sauraha.

Rishi Tiwari is the chief naturalist at the Jungle Safari Park, one of only three hotels to cater to tourists in the early days. The resort is still the most popular destination in Sauraha, but even it is suffering today.

“Before the Maoist movement started, business was good,” he says. “And even five or six years ago, we'd have to put up tents in the courtyard. We didn't have enough rooms. And in town, at eleven or twelve o'clock at night, there were people in the street and in the restaurants.”

But as tourism has plummeted nationwide in the last five years, Sauraha has been especially hard hit.

At the height of the tourist boom in 1999, nearly half a million visitors arrived in Nepal.

The following year, the country witnessed a drop in arrivals of six percent, the first decrease in the history of the kingdom's tourism industry. In 2001, that number fell again, this time by more than twenty percent, and was followed by an even sharper decline in 2002. The effect upon Chitwan's once thriving tourism industry has been devastating.

From 2001 to 2002 alone, the national park lost a full forty-five percent of its total visitors, nearly double the national average. And though the rest of the country has since seen a partial rebound in the number of arrivals, Chitwan is still bearing the brunt of Nepal's tourism bust.

Ironically, with recent strides being made in wildlife conservation and the populations of many of the park's endangered species steadily on the rise, the area now has more to offer than ever before.

Tiwari blames security issues and the now cumbersome voyage from Nepal's two main tourism centers, Kathmandu and Pokhara, for the area's declining tourism prospects.

“Before it was a four-hour drive from Kathmandu,” he says. “How long does it take now? I've seen many times when it took twelve hours. People had to sleep on the bus.”

“What is the government doing? Tourists don't want checkpoints. They don't want trouble from anything. They're paying money, and they don't want to be disturbed.”

Unfortunately, compounding recent problems of access is a disturbing trend that will likely take some time to correct. Since 1999, the length of the average tourist's visit has fallen from more than twelve days to barely a week. With such short visits now the norm, destinations not situated along the primary Kathmandu-Pokhara tourism axis are slipping quickly into the red. And even if the government does initiate the kinds of promotion campaigns called for by many in the industry, it is unclear whether such a move would do much to save tourism in outlying areas.

Still, Tiwari, like many, believes that the only real answer is peace. And when Nepal finally makes progress towards a lasting resolution to its eight-year armed conflict, it will be accompanied by a rapid return to economic prosperity.

“Everyone knows the problem,” he says confidently. “It's the Maoists and the government. As soon as there is a ceasefire, the tourists will be back.”

But with an end to fighting still nowhere on the horizon, it's unclear whether businesses in Sauraha can take another season of heavy losses. And at the Hungry Eye, Raju doesn't share in the optimism.

“Everyday now, it's like I'm on holiday,” he says, adding, “An unpaid holiday.”