BY DIANE RUSSELL

Political science professor Steve Parker

"It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it."

With a wink and a smile, that's how UNLV political science professor Steve Parker responds to the ribbing he often gets about his work-related travels.

He points out that with tourism having now surpassed petroleum as the world's largest international industry, someone needs to study tourism and its effect on the environment. And if that means some dedicated scholar like himself has to travel to such exotic and alluring locales as Fiji or Papua New Guinea to study the subject, well, that's just a sacrifice that will have to be made in the name of research.

While Parker manages to maintain a sense of humor when faced with good-natured teasing about his travels to some of the world's most idyllic island settings, the fact remains that he is deadly serious about the subject he researches in those locations — government natural resource policy, its effect on tourism, and what it means for the future of the planet.

As a political scientist, Parker, who has taught at UNLV since 1979, is interested in tourism from a public policy standpoint, or, more specifically, how governments can manage the environment by managing what is termed "ecotourism."

The goal of ecotourism, he explains, is to promote ecologically friendly industries that do little damage to the natural surroundings, while at the same time providing people who live in the areas with a way of making a living.

"'Ecotourism' combines the words 'ecology' and 'tourism,' but it also combines 'economics' and 'tourism.' 'Ecotourism' really stands for both," Parker says. "The idea is to help the environment generate money for native peoples because, if it can bring them a living, then they are going to have an interest in preserving and conserving it."

Many of the places where ecotourism comes to the forefront are places that only recently have become tourist destinations — places that have not yet been harmed by herds of unruly travelers or by locals who, often unknowingly, destroy unique surroundings in order to support themselves and their families. Someplace like Papua New Guinea.

It was in Papua New Guinea that he spent much of the spring of 1998 on sabbatical from UNLV to further his research into public policy and ecotourism.

He chose Papua New Guinea as a location to study because it has begun attracting large numbers of tourists only recently, and its government, therefore, is just beginning to make major decisions that will profoundly influence the future of the island nation.

The indigenous people of Papua New Guinea have the choice of opting for profitable, but highly destructive industries, such as logging or dynamite fishing, or choosing more environmentally friendly options, such as ecotourism.

On an island roughly the size of California where there are only 4 million people and where more than 700 languages are spoken, uniform, nationwide decisions are impossible to make, according to Parker. Instead, each tribe or village currently is left to decide for itself what role, if any, ecotourism will play in its future.

During Parker's 1998 sabbatical, he also spent time in Blue Mountains National Park in New South Wales, Australia, and other national parks studying conservation practices and protected-area management.

"Ecotourism is not an absolute good," Parker says. "It's a relative thing. It's the lesser of two evils. When Western civilization in one way or another comes into an area, there are going to be lots of changes, many of which are not good. So the question is: 'What else is there that is less destructive?' Natives know that there's a money economy out there. They've got to earn money somehow.

"The question is not, 'Should we or can we just leave these people alone as though it was 2000 years ago?' That would be nice, but it's unrealistic," Parker says. "The real question is, 'What other ways are there by which these people can use their environment to earn the money they want?'

"Ecotourism policy advises that, 'Instead of destroying a reef by using dynamite for fishing, locals should take scuba divers and snorkelers out there in their boats; they should become the dive masters, and they should be paid for their services.'"

This is a prime example, according to Parker, of the maxim of ecotourism: "If nature pays, nature stays."

Papua New Guinea, located on the equator about 150 miles north of Australia, proved an ideal spot for Parker's studies. It was only in 1935 that outsiders — mostly miners and missionaries from Europe and Australia — began making their way into its interior. With the influence of Western civilization intruding on the native culture only so recently, visitors to Papua New Guinea even today are likely to feel as if they're experiencing some form of time travel that has taken them into the distant past, according to Parker.

With its lush locales, ranging from pristine coastlines with beautiful coral reefs to glacier-capped mountains rising to 15,000 feet, the country has much to offer nature and recreation enthusiasts who are willing and able to pay for the uncommon trip, Parker says.

A steadily increasing number of people are visiting the country. Recent figures show a tourism rate of about 20,000 people a year, according to Parker, who has used his ecotourism research in Papua New Guinea, Australia, and other locations as the basis for scholarly articles that have appeared in publications such as The Encyclopedia of Ecotourism, The Journal of Sustainable Tourism, and the Handbook of Global Environmental Policy and Administration. Many of the travelers to Papua New Guinea are seeking ecologically friendly vacations that provide them access to unspoiled beauty far away from the tourist crowds found elsewhere. For the most part, the people of Papua New Guinea seem to be making good choices about how they will earn money, says Parker, who earlier this year was honored with the UNLV Distinguished Teaching Award.

Dynamite fishing — a profitable way of obtaining great quantities of fish in a short period of time — only recently has begun making its way to Papua New Guinea. Dynamite fishing is exactly what it sounds like: fisherman row out from shore, throw dynamite in the water, and harvest the fish that float to the surface. The damage to the coral reefs is tremendous.

The destructive results of this practice can be seen in places such as the Philippines and Indonesia where irreversible damage has been done to precious natural resources, Parker says.

Another destructive form of fishing is the practice of stunning fish for capture for the aquarium industry. All over the South Pacific today, natives go out in their canoes and dive down to find fish hiding in coral reefs. They next squirt a sodium-cyanide solution in the direction of the fish, killing most of them. Some are merely stunned but survive. These are netted and sold to aquarium wholesalers. Ultimately, the same sodium cyanide that kills so many fish, kills the coral reef as well.

Fortunately, neither practice has yet taken hold in Papua New Guinea where, for the most part, tribal and governmental leaders seem to be taking the more conservation-oriented route, he says.

But for them to continue to make these ecologically friendly decisions, someone needs to provide them options that generate money as well preserve resources, Parker points out.

In Fiji, where Parker traveled in July of this year, one such option has been provided by an entrepreneur who built 16 cabins that now serve as a dive resort. He leases the property from a nearby village and agrees to hire approximately 50 natives to work at the resort. He also buys meat, fish, and vegetables for his resort from the villagers. Thus, the beach and the nearby reef are now generating money for the locals, who have a monetary incentive to preserve the reef, beaches, and rain forest.

A comparable venture is taking place in the highlands of Papua New Guinea. In a particularly picturesque setting just outside the village of Tari, an Australian engineer and his wife have built Ambua Lodge.

As these natives prepared to give a dance performance in Yesenbit Village in Papua New Guinea, they told Parker that performing for visitors gives one generation a chance to teach the rituals to the next.

"The main thing that brings about 1,200 tourists per year to Ambua Lodge is its exotic bird-watching," Parker says. "Worldwide, there are 43 species of the bird of paradise; 39 of these can be found in Papua New Guinea.

"The lodge operator pays a fee of two kina per guest (equal to about one U.S. dollar) to the local Huli tribe. However, his arrangement with them specifies that these payments will continue only so long as there is a consistent level of bird sightings by lodge guests," Parker says.

"It is right here, of course, that one can see the logic of ecotourism, since the plan gives the Huli a reason for habitat preservation and a powerful incentive to not sell off logging rights to hungry multinational corporations."

No one has to hire wardens to patrol the area to protect the birds or their habitat, he notes. The villagers, who now have an economic incentive for conservation, see to it that no one bothers them. It would be considered extremely disgraceful for a villager to be caught destroying the habitat or, worse yet, harming a bird of paradise, he says.

Another important facet of ecotourism is cultural preservation, Parker says.

Tourists to remote locales are usually eager to experience the native culture, he points out. This translates into commerce when visitors pay the villagers to perform traditional dances and music or offer to buy native crafts.

While the tastes of the outsiders may be somewhat intrusive and may have a negative impact on the traditions — tribe members may make more of a certain kind of mask, for instance, if they realize it's the one tourists want to buy — in many cases the tourists' preferences may also be the only thing keeping those ancient traditions from being lost, Parker maintains.

With Papua New Guinea having had no written history before the arrival of the missionaries in 1935, oral tradition, in which elders tell younger tribe members of past events, teach them the traditional dances and music, and show them how to make the traditional crafts, has always been of extreme importance.

However, that oral tradition has been endangered in recent decades. First, the missionaries put a stop to the carvings the tribesmen were doing because, from the missionaries' viewpoint, these carvings constituted idolatry. Later, as the natives became aware of the money economy, they began spending their time on endeavors such as mining and logging that could generate more money. Little by little, the dances, music, and handicrafts began to be lost as the younger people no longer took the time to learn them.

Today, tourists often are invited to "sing-sings" at which villagers, decked out in eye-catching costumes created from a variety of materials, including sea shells and feathers, perform ritual dances and music.

"What I witnessed time and time again in regard to cultural activities was young men who had stayed behind in the villages wanting to learn the dances from their elders — and the elders were there just like the choreographers teaching them what to do. The younger men are learning it primarily because they're going to be paid by the tour operator. And if it weren't for the tourists coming in, these rituals would not be getting transferred to the next generation with the same degree of speed that they are. Fifteen years ago these rituals were dying out; now they're making a comeback."

It no doubt is true that the traditions no longer have the same religious significance they once did, but at least they are being preserved, Parker says.

"They're learning the steps. They're learning how to make the costumes," he says. "These things would be lost otherwise and in that sense it's a public preservation strategy."

The impact of tourism on the environment in national parks is also a subject of interest to Parker, seen here surveying trail erosion in Springbrook National Park, Queensland, Australia.

The money that comes in from ecotourism often is not enough alone to sustain the villagers, but when it is combined with other nondestructive micro-industries, such as butterfly farming or timber harvesting with walk-about sawmills (small portable devices that allow villagers to cut planks from fallen trees, thus discouraging the clear-cutting of forests), it can help preserve the world's natural and cultural resources, he says.

Parker provides one telling final example of the contribution of ecotourism to cultural preservation.

The Fly and the Sepik are the two major rivers in Papua New Guinea. The carving of various items such as masks and musical instruments long had been a valued tradition among the inhabitants of the villages that dot the banks of both rivers. But after the arrival of the missionaries the carving died out.

"As a result, for about two generations this art form, which is religious in nature, disappeared on both rivers," he says.

Then the tourists began arriving in Papua New Guinea. With two boats traveling up and down its waters, the Sepik gets as many as 5,000 visitors a year; the Fly, which has no boats, gets none.

"There is no indigenous carving occurring on the Fly, but there are thousands of pieces being produced every year on the Sepik," Parker says, displaying a flute on which a combination bird-crocodile-man is carved from a single piece of wood. "The villager who made this learned the skill, the craftsmanship, and the design from his father. The know-how was transmitted from one generation to the next because there was a market.

"If nature pays, nature stays."