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Indonesia, living with the forest
Living with the forest, off the forest, for the forest.
Gunung Halimun Salak National Park, known as “The heart of Java”, spans 400 km2 of tropical mountain forests in West Java. It is home to the Kesepuhan, a traditional Sundanese community of some 5,000 people living in small scattered villages. For generations, they have farmed family rice plots, tended small fish ponds, and gathered medicinal plants, fibers, and resins from the undergrowth, while caring for the forest that sustains them.
First established as a colonial-era nature reserve, the area was reclassified in 2003 as national park for its ecological richness and hydrological functions. The people living within its boundaries, however, saw this as infringement on their ancestral lands. The process triggered conflicts and negotiations that stretched on for years, and remain sensitive to this day. Adding to this complexity, the area is surrounded by competing interests: private tea plantations, a geothermal plant under development, a state-run gold mine, and the ongoing intrusion of military training exercises.
Globally, Indigenous Peoples and local communities steward an estimated 50% or more of the world's land, including many of its most pristine ecosystems. These lands often harbor greater biodiversity, experience lower rates of deforestation and degradation, and can cost less to maintain than state or privately-managed areas. Yet despite their proven role, Indigenous Peoples and local communities are frequently overlooked in policy decisions, and many still lack formal recognition of their land rights.
This short story follows a forest community whose daily life is shaped by subsistence, care, and the pressures of competing claims over the same territory. It also points to a broader reality: without secure land rights, communities have little leverage to prevent resource extraction from eroding the biodiversity we all depend on. Recognizing these rights is not only a matter of justice, but a condition for conserving biodiversity-rich ecosystems under community management.
[2018]
Gunung Halimun Salak National Park, known as “The heart of Java”, spans 400 km2 of tropical mountain forests in West Java. It is home to the Kesepuhan, a traditional Sundanese community of some 5,000 people living in small scattered villages. For generations, they have farmed family rice plots, tended small fish ponds, and gathered medicinal plants, fibers, and resins from the undergrowth, while caring for the forest that sustains them.
First established as a colonial-era nature reserve, the area was reclassified in 2003 as national park for its ecological richness and hydrological functions. The people living within its boundaries, however, saw this as infringement on their ancestral lands. The process triggered conflicts and negotiations that stretched on for years, and remain sensitive to this day. Adding to this complexity, the area is surrounded by competing interests: private tea plantations, a geothermal plant under development, a state-run gold mine, and the ongoing intrusion of military training exercises.
Globally, Indigenous Peoples and local communities steward an estimated 50% or more of the world's land, including many of its most pristine ecosystems. These lands often harbor greater biodiversity, experience lower rates of deforestation and degradation, and can cost less to maintain than state or privately-managed areas. Yet despite their proven role, Indigenous Peoples and local communities are frequently overlooked in policy decisions, and many still lack formal recognition of their land rights.
This short story follows a forest community whose daily life is shaped by subsistence, care, and the pressures of competing claims over the same territory. It also points to a broader reality: without secure land rights, communities have little leverage to prevent resource extraction from eroding the biodiversity we all depend on. Recognizing these rights is not only a matter of justice, but a condition for conserving biodiversity-rich ecosystems under community management.
[2018]
The undergrowth is scattered with sweet-scented blossoms, once gathered by women to wash their hair. Alongside them grow medicinal plants, fibers, and resins — gifts the forest offers in abundance, asking nothing in return.
Within the park lies a research center, where students document fauna, flora, and ecosystem services. Yet their observations are often disrupted: the same forest used for science sometimes also serves as a training ground for the army.
Many community members still work in private tea plantations established under Dutch colonization. Behind the idyllic rows of green lie harsh realities: a 30-kilogram bag earns just 50 cents. Despite this, plantation work remains a crucial, if exploitative, source of income in historically neglected rural economies.
Most households rely on their backyards and the forest for food, purchasing little from outside. In a globalized rural economy, this degree of self-sufficiency has become increasingly uncommon.
Traces left by visitors remain in the forest. Community members collect them as part of their daily work.
When imagining their children's future, fathers often spoke of towns and professions beyond the forest. Mothers, instead, wished their kids had a good education but wouldn't leave the community, so they could help improve the way land and forests are taken care of. Perhaps that is why we call it Mother Earth.
