Damar, one of the best surf guides on the Indonesian island of Lombok, feels right at home taking tourists out to sea. With his fluent English and effortless banter, you would never guess what was his childhood fear: foreigners.
When I was 10 or maybe seven, I used to cry - I used to just pee in my pants when I saw white people, Damar, now 39, tells the BBC. That diffidence waned as the laidback island he calls home slowly found its popularity among Western travellers.
Just east of Bali, Lombok boasts the same azure beaches and stunning views as its famous neighbour, but without the exasperating crowds. Lombok's beaches are still a hidden gem among surfers, as is Mount Rinjani for hikers. Travel sites still liberally use the word untouched to describe the island as they offer reasons to venture beyond Bali.
So it should come as little surprise that the Indonesian government has sensed the opportunity to create another lucrative tourist haven on the sprawling archipelago. The mission is to create more 'Balis' - and Lombok will be one of them. For islanders, this promise of 'Balification' is a welcome opportunity but they are also wary of what it brings. And the change has already begun to hit home in more ways than one.
Mandalika in the south has been chosen as the heart of the 'new Bali'. Its rustic coastline has already given way to glitzy resorts, cafes and even a racetrack.
Earlier this month, nearly 150,000 spectators showed up to watch the motorcycle Grand Prix. Between 2019 and 2021, dozens of families were evicted from their village homes for the construction of the Mandalika circuit. Damar's was among them.
Confronted with a messy resettlement plan and unfair compensation, he and his neighbors felt helpless. Since the eviction, Damar has bought a plot of land and built his own house, something that many of his neighbors haven't been able to do. As a surf guide, he estimates that he earns twice as much as a fisherman - a generational profession in his community.
I've never really been to school, so joining the tourism industry was one of the best choices that I have ever made, Damar reflects. However, he expresses his anger: I'm not angry at the tourists. I'm just angry at my own government.
The drive to transform Lombok is part of a wider effort to lure travellers away from Bali, which has for decades dominated Indonesia's tourism landscape. Last year, 81,500 foreign tourists arrived at Lombok's airport, a 40% jump from the year before. However, this is just a fraction compared to the more than 6 million tourists who flocked to Bali.
Tourism has ushered prosperity into the lives of many locals, leading to a surge in entrepreneurship. Yet, concerns about 'Bali-fication' persist, including the cultural shifts and environmental pressures it may entail. As Lombok continues to develop, the balance between economic growth and cultural preservation remains a challenge for its communities.
When I was 10 or maybe seven, I used to cry - I used to just pee in my pants when I saw white people, Damar, now 39, tells the BBC. That diffidence waned as the laidback island he calls home slowly found its popularity among Western travellers.
Just east of Bali, Lombok boasts the same azure beaches and stunning views as its famous neighbour, but without the exasperating crowds. Lombok's beaches are still a hidden gem among surfers, as is Mount Rinjani for hikers. Travel sites still liberally use the word untouched to describe the island as they offer reasons to venture beyond Bali.
So it should come as little surprise that the Indonesian government has sensed the opportunity to create another lucrative tourist haven on the sprawling archipelago. The mission is to create more 'Balis' - and Lombok will be one of them. For islanders, this promise of 'Balification' is a welcome opportunity but they are also wary of what it brings. And the change has already begun to hit home in more ways than one.
Mandalika in the south has been chosen as the heart of the 'new Bali'. Its rustic coastline has already given way to glitzy resorts, cafes and even a racetrack.
Earlier this month, nearly 150,000 spectators showed up to watch the motorcycle Grand Prix. Between 2019 and 2021, dozens of families were evicted from their village homes for the construction of the Mandalika circuit. Damar's was among them.
Confronted with a messy resettlement plan and unfair compensation, he and his neighbors felt helpless. Since the eviction, Damar has bought a plot of land and built his own house, something that many of his neighbors haven't been able to do. As a surf guide, he estimates that he earns twice as much as a fisherman - a generational profession in his community.
I've never really been to school, so joining the tourism industry was one of the best choices that I have ever made, Damar reflects. However, he expresses his anger: I'm not angry at the tourists. I'm just angry at my own government.
The drive to transform Lombok is part of a wider effort to lure travellers away from Bali, which has for decades dominated Indonesia's tourism landscape. Last year, 81,500 foreign tourists arrived at Lombok's airport, a 40% jump from the year before. However, this is just a fraction compared to the more than 6 million tourists who flocked to Bali.
Tourism has ushered prosperity into the lives of many locals, leading to a surge in entrepreneurship. Yet, concerns about 'Bali-fication' persist, including the cultural shifts and environmental pressures it may entail. As Lombok continues to develop, the balance between economic growth and cultural preservation remains a challenge for its communities.
