The Island Life: Finding Paradise

The speedboat sped through crystal clear azul waters, bumping across boat wakes, past beaches teaming with day-tripping tourists and resort-goers crammed umbrella-to-umbrella on the Dominican Republic’s south shore. Eventually, the crowds of tourists died away, leaving only the glistening ocean and a tiny spec of land in the distance. At last, we reached our destination: a tiny island of national park off the southeast point of the DR, Isla Sauna. I was struck by the absence of civilization. Standing on Isla Sauna’s white sand beach, there is nothing but sea, sand, and palm trees for as far as the eye can see and one can almost believe one has truly found paradise.

In St. Lucia, one of only a few politically independent islands in the Caribbean archipelago, a ride along the hairpin eventually brings one to paradisiacal coastal beaches. Europeans abound, finding a better bang for their buck in a country where they drive on the left and where the currency is pegged to the faltering U.S. dollar. On the western side of the island facing the Caribbean Sea, beyond the capital town of Castries and its touristy neighbor Rodney Bay, one finds a peninsula and another national park, erroneously named Pigeon Island. For five U.S. dollars, one can enjoy a day laying on a quiet beach, or if age permits, playing tag in the islands’ forests, or taking on a panoramic view at the island’s historic Fort Rodney which sits atop the hill in the middle of the peninsula, providing a panoramic view of the island.

Amidst all the glorious lushness of the tropical islands of the Caribbean, one has to wonder how one reconciles the luxuries of getaway vacations with the effects of tourism on the economies of the developing world. Many tourists who choose the Caribbean islands as their destination forgo the idyllic splendors of the Dominican Republic’s Isla Sauna or St. Lucia’s Pigeon Island for the organized luxury of all-inclusive resorts and cruises. In the winter months, Castries sees as many as three to four cruise ships docked in its harbor each day, unloading thousands of tourists into its narrow streets to wonder at the central marketplace’s crafts and trinkets, injecting the local economy with thousands of dollars each day. In addition to tourism, the St. Lucian economy is heavily dependent on the banana industry and its frequently erratic market. In the Dominican Republic, the tourism industry accounts for close to 60 percent of the country’s revenue each year and employs close to 60 percent of the country’s work force while also consuming a large percentage of the countries natural and imported resources. Both countries are extremely committed to exceptional hospitality—every local understands that a good first impression makes a lasting impression and that without the tourism industry these countries’ economies would flounder.

Yet in the face of such extravagant indulgence, 25 percent of Dominicans live below the poverty line and both countries lack adequate health services and universal educational opportunities. I was fortunate enough to visit both of these countries under the employment of the Peacework, a Virginia-based non-profit that works to create institutional partnerships in sustainable community development around the world. This means working with local Ministries of Education, Health, and Public Works in its target countries, and speaking with the people on the ground about their needs and what can be done to create sustainable solutions to on-going problems. Peacework’s most recent model partners large business firms or universities with local target communities, bringing groups of professionals or professors and students with experience and expertise to put their knowledge and resources to work for international communities in need.

Ironically, many of the places that host the most luxurious get-away experiences are also those that are home to the world’s poor. Beachside resorts in the Dominican Republic enjoy 24-hour power and hot water while many communities in the country’s interior have no running water or electricity at all. St. Lucia only instituted a policy of universal secondary education last year, meaning that all over the island, a paucity of schools and teachers is leaving many students uneducated past the sixth grade level.

I am certainly not the first to consider the effects of globalization and tourism on the developing economies of the world—the issue of globalization and what should be done about it is vast and controversial. Yet as we return to school, perhaps having enjoyed the luxury of travel to exotic or unusual places, one might also consider who stands on the other side of the transaction, what lies beyond the walls of the western-amenitied resort or hotel or the Norwegian Princess cruise ship. Eco-tourism is an increasingly popular practice in many developing countries and offers an interesting vantage point from which to enjoy the luxury of travel afforded by an American passport while also better understanding the true effects of globalization on the world’s populations. Maybe for a moment it is possible to believe that simple curiosity can trigger a chain reaction that can change the world.

The author is a Barnard College senior majoring in political science.