A non-first-world problem

Last night, with literally just a few hours notice, the fresh water supply on our tiny island of Gili Meno was turned off by order of the government. Today nobody on the island has fresh running water. Just like that.

The reasons are a mix of political, business shenanigans (aka jealousy, competition, takeovers, corruption) and perhaps some science (reportedly a report found that the drilling, done by the company that has been supplying water, damages the island). Whichever way you want to cut it, it’s now a mess. Everyone is panicking and stressed. Residences, homestays, hotels, restaurants, shops, dive centres. It’s just an incredible predicament for people here to go through after some tough years–active volcanoes in 2016 & 2017, bad weather that stopped  transport of tourists in high season 2018, a massive earthquake in 2018, and then the pandemic which closed Indonesia to tourism for over 2 years. The island only opened up again to guests a few months ago. Surely nothing else could possibly go wrong, right?

Oh, yeah, let’s turn off the water supply!

Many people are up in arms about this. Understandably. Fresh water supply is considered a human right. And it’s essential to sustain tourism these days, which is 100% of the economy here.

Not exactly your everyday first world problem, huh. Can you imagine the water in your taps being turned off, just like that? Once upon a time it might not have been a biggie, at least in Australia, where houses used to have their own rain-water tanks. But most people there don’t have them these days. And in Europe I think fresh water supply has been provided for centuries, right?

So a bit of background about water here. Gili Meno has no fresh water supply of its own. Up until about 40 years ago, nobody even lived here, largely because there was no water. And because it’s a tiny island with an arid climate, salty underground water and sandy soil, it’s difficult to grow things here. People used to come from Sulawesi and Lombok for short visits to fish the abundant ocean, and there was some farming of coconut trees and peanuts.

Then in the ’80s backpackers started coming, as they strayed beyond the famous Bali in search of more remote destinations. Amazing diving and snorkelling, magical tropical beaches and deserted island vibes with locals playing reggae tunes on their guitars attracted tourists from all over the world. Eventually electricity came to the island and, of course, recently the all essential tourist expectation of swimming pools and wifi. Times change!

As tourism grew, fresh water was needed, and until 5 years ago it was delivered to the island by boats from the mainland. These boats carried tanks, and would beach directly on the shore, connecting to a system of pipes and then pump fresh water to hotel tanks along the beachfront.

In the first few years I lived here Made and I would sit for hours on the beach in the afternoons and we often saw these water boats that came almost daily.

But it wasn’t an ideal way to supply water. Windy weather and big waves, rough seas, coral reefs and extreme tides made travel unpredictable and parking on the beaches difficult. The realities of unregulated business meant the boats often favoured larger resorts and hotels, and the average homestay would sometimes miss out, meaning they would have no water for their guests to shower with that day. Supply was sketchy, and corruption was the norm, with smaller customers often having to pay extra or give free cigarettes to the boatmen just to get their paid-for supply.

For all those years, properties inland on the island had their own wells (like I still do), which provide salty water good enough for toilet flushing and washing, and in my case lovely to shower in. No chlorine and no chemicals, full of natural health-giving minerals. I’ve showered and laundried in mildly salty water for 7.5 years now and have never minded it, but because I live further away from the beach, my well water isn’t so salty. My guests know beforehand the situation and are ok with it. But of course it’s not drinkable so we have to buy fresh water (in 19 litre bottles) for all our drinking and cooking needs, including for my cats Tom and Quake.

Sadly, any degree of salty water is generally not prefered by most tourists from ‘first world’ countries who sometimes feel it isn’t even possible to wash their hair with. (In my opinion, backpacking travel and ‘when in Rome do as the Romans do’ traveller characteristics are sadly rare these days.)

Then about 5 years ago on Gili Meno, a company developed a desalination plant, and provided desalinated water to everyone who could afford to connect and pay the per-cubic-litre cost. Over time, most residents and businesses all over the island connected to this system and they pay relatively a lot of money for fresh running water. This is one of the many reasons accommodation is more expensive on the island compared to Bali or Lombok, another fact first-world travellers are often oblivious to. 

And over time, many people with salt water wells let go of their wells, and new resorts and hotels were developed on the island without even building one.

Today there are about 600 residents on Gili Meno, and in a normal high season, there may be 1000 people, the numbers boosted by seasonal employees coming over from Lombok. And of course there’s hundreds of tourists that pay nightly for the pleasure of holidaying here.

There have been plans in the pipeline (excuse the pun) for years, for the Lombok government to provide fresh water directly from Lombok, carried to Gili Meno in pipes under the sea. This has already been done for our neighbouring island, Gili Air. For Gili Meno it was earmarked to be completed by August this year, but the pipe laying hasn’t even started yet. Hmmmm. Again, due partly to the pandemic, and partly due to business shenanigans and politics. Who knows. Evasive responses and distracting answers from the authorities, and across the board gossiping, abound.

And then there’s the horses! As most of you would know from my blogs, horses are the only means of transport on the island. Years ago, these horses lived only on salt water. Their owners simply couldn’t afford to pay for fresh water, and they didn’t understand the health consequences of that. Drinking salty water leads to short term risks of colic, and long term risks of kidney failure.

My friend Tori and the Horses of Gili made great inroads teaching the horsemen about the fundamental need for horses to drink fresh water, just the same as humans. Over time, the longevity of the horses increased from around a shocking three to four year lifespan, to over 12 years. The condition and working strength and investment value of horses has improved significantly over the years. It’s incredible to think all that progress could be lost.

Locals and horse owners are far from wealthy, and will not be able to afford to buy water bottles today to give to their horses.

A huge crisis meeting was held today on the island, with the regional head of government coming from Lombok, our Head of the Island, dozens of local residents, as well as local and foreign business owners. People simply can’t believe this is happening. Even the Indonesian Tourism Minister Uno Sandiago has been seen today on the mass media, saying this can’t happen.

So tonight all the residents of my lovely island are praying the government will see fit to give emergency permission for the desalination company to continue providing fresh water to everyone on the island until such time as the Lombok government secures a viable alternative fresh water supply. 

It’s just incredible to know that hundreds of people here, and all the horsemen, have completely empty taps tonight.