I cook for visitors through the tourism centre in Tafi. When the project began around 1998 or 1999, I was paid very little. As prices rose and the amount of work increased, I asked for more money. I am glad that my payment was raised.
I do not know exactly what happens to the rest of the money tourists pay at the centre. I understand that some of it goes towards community development. One of the projects is a clinic, but after several years it is still unfinished.
My work becomes especially difficult when a large group arrives. It is normal to receive around twenty-five visitors at once. If the guesthouse has no space left, some sleep in tents.
Cooking twenty-five dinners at the same time is a lot of work for one person in one kitchen.
Tourism has helped local shops sell more, although most still offer the same basic products. Bottled mineral water is the important exception. Nobody sold it here before tourists began coming.
Shop prices depend on what goods cost at the market and how much it costs to transport them to the village. Both expenses have increased in recent years, so local families also pay more.
For medical treatment, we have to travel to another town. A health worker visits only occasionally. Malaria is our greatest concern during the rainy months of June, July and August. This is why I would like to see the community clinic completed.
Education has improved more clearly. Our school has more teachers than it did before. Children still have to walk for more than an hour to attend secondary school in the next village, but their attitude towards learning has changed.
A visitor believed strongly enough in local education to return home, raise money and help renovate the school. She comes back from time to time to see how the work is progressing.
Children who once did not want to attend school now want to learn English so they can speak with tourists.
Daily life is still difficult. We have no piped water or telephones. Water comes from a borehole pump or the stream, and we collect rainwater in tanks during the wet season. Minibuses come only on market days, once every five days.
We have no formal rubbish collection. Households burn waste in a pit, although some people continue dumping it in the bush.
The forest rules frustrate me. Our beliefs say the forest belongs to the ancestors, and local people did not enter without the right ceremony. Now we are told we may not enter at all because we might cause damage, while tourists and guides are allowed inside. This also means we have to walk further to collect firewood.
Most tourists behave well, and I enjoy hearing their stories. They describe countries where everybody seems busy and neighbours may not stop to greet one another. I sometimes dream of working in Europe for a few years so I could pay my daughters’ school fees, although I doubt that dream will become real.
I enjoy meeting visitors and value the interest they bring to our children. But when I think about what the community needs most, I think beyond serving another large group: I think about a finished clinic, good schools, reliable transport and fair access to our forest.