Program Design for Community Impact
LESSONS FROM THE FIELD
WHAT IT TAKES TO UNLOCK RURAL TOURISM POTENTIALS: LESSONS FROM MY WORK IN SANTA CRUZ, MARINDUQUE
With the midday sun blazing overhead, I arrived with the municipal tourism office staff of Santa Cruz, Marinduque, at the mountainside village of Kaganhao. We were there to visit Ate Baby’s backyard vegetable garden—one of the backyard and community vegetable gardens established under the town’s trailblazing Tanim Pag-asa program. This visit was part of a broader effort to validate initial work for a comprehensive tourism blueprint—a plan I was commissioned by the local government to develop, aimed at transforming the municipality’s natural and cultural assets into sustainable tourism opportunities.
Launched by Mayor Marisa Red-Martinez in 2022, the Tanim Pag-asa program started as a grassroots initiative to combat food insecurity and has since blossomed into a network of households cultivating their own gardens. With over 3,000 participating households, the program has turned local agriculture into an avenue for both livelihood and community cohesion, with participants often selling produce to neighbors or to the municipal agriculture office. Recent developments, such as the promotion of chili pepper cultivation and the creation of a value-added product—chili garlic oil—have further amplified the impact of this program. Through this initiative, there was now the potential to transform these gardens into an agri-tourism attraction, connecting visitors to the story of sustainable farming and community-driven agriculture.
Ate Baby, a local village official and one of the program’s most active participants, greeted us warmly, her hands bearing the telltale signs of morning work in the soil. Her garden, situated along the slope, was alive with neatly cultivated eggplants, squash, and a thriving row of string beans—a testament to the program’s success. “We have enough for our family and some extra to sell at the market,” she said, beaming with quiet pride as she guided us through her small patch of paradise.
“It’s truly remarkable, Ate Baby,” I said, taking in the neatly organized rows and the breathtaking mountain backdrop. “Just imagine visitors here, enjoying fresh produce and learning about your methods while surrounded by this view.”
She hesitated, her smile giving way to a thoughtful expression. “Do you really think people would come all the way here for this?”
This hesitation reflected the challenge I often encounter in my work: helping rural communities recognize the economic potential embedded in their own way of life. To Ate Baby, her garden was a source of sustenance and a modest livelihood. But to me, it was an underappreciated gem within the broader vision of agri-tourism that could offer visitors not just an experience of rural life but a deep, meaningful connection to sustainable agricultural practices.
The Narrow Lens of Tourism in Rural Communities
This disconnect—the inability to recognize the value of what is already present—is not uncommon in rural communities where tourism is often seen through a limited lens, with attention focused primarily on leisure, recreation, or adventure activities. The concept of tourism as a form of cultural immersion or an educational experience remains unfamiliar.
For locals like Ate Baby, the prevailing view of tourism revolves around grand developments or cosmetic changes that promise to make the area more “tourist-ready.” However, this perception fails to recognize that tourism, especially in rural settings, is less about extravagant amenities and more about authenticity—the genuine stories, skills, and landscapes that shape the community’s identity. Today’s tourist is less likely to be drawn in by the superficial allure of luxury resorts and more inclined to seek out authentic encounters with the culture, the people, and the environment. In this regard, what rural communities already possess—the richness of their daily life, traditions, and natural assets—can be the very foundation of a thriving, sustainable tourism model.
This limited view of tourism, grounded in aesthetics and short-term economic gain, tends to overlook the deeper potential that lies in connecting visitors to the lived experiences of local communities. What many fail to realize is that tourism in rural areas is often most impactful when it invites people into the stories of everyday life. The simple act of eating a meal prepared from locally sourced ingredients, learning about the traditional methods of farming, or participating in cultural practices can offer visitors a far richer, more fulfilling experience than any modern resort could. By broadening the scope of tourism to encompass these lived experiences, rural communities can unlock new avenues for economic growth while preserving the authenticity that makes them unique.
Resource Blindness and Missed Opportunities
Another challenge that I’ve encountered in rural communities is what I call “resource blindness”—a failure to recognize the latent potential in everyday practices and the natural environment. For many, what seems ordinary often goes unappreciated, and what could be a resource for growth is overlooked. Ate Baby’s backyard garden, for example, is not merely a collection of vegetables; it is part of a larger narrative about sustainable living, community resilience, and the interconnectedness of people and land. Each plant in her garden tells a story, and those stories, when shared with visitors, become an invaluable asset. But this potential remains largely untapped unless locals can see the deeper value in what they already possess.
Similarly, the coastal village of Botilao, home to a flourishing mangrove forest, faces a similar challenge. Mangroves—vital to stabilizing coastlines, preventing erosion, and supporting marine life—are often underappreciated for their ecological significance. During one of my visits, I was struck by the fact that some locals weren’t fully aware of the critical role mangroves play in their own ecosystem. Despite their importance in safeguarding the shoreline and sustaining local fisheries, the mangroves were viewed simply as part of the landscape, not as a potential tourism asset. Yet, with a shift in perspective, these natural resources could be transformed into a key feature of eco-tourism.
The potential for eco-tourism surrounding the mangroves is vast. Guided walks, birdwatching tours, or storytelling about the intricate role mangroves play in sustaining marine life could open up new avenues for income and education. This shift requires a deepening of local understanding about the value of their environment—not just for its immediate benefits but also for its long-term potential to engage visitors and foster a deeper connection to nature. Recognizing these natural assets as integral to the tourism experience is not just a matter of preserving the environment, but also of creating economic opportunities that are sustainable and mutually beneficial for both the community and the ecosystem. Without such a shift, these valuable resources may continue to be overlooked, and the opportunities they offer will remain unrealized.
The Potential of Convergence
Even more overlooked than the resources themselves is the untapped potential for convergence—the ability to integrate different local resources across villages into cohesive, community-driven tourism experiences. Picture a visitor enjoying a meal of freshly harvested vegetables from a Tanim Pag-asa garden, paired with locally caught seafood, and topped off with a splash of chili garlic oil crafted by community members. These elements, though individually significant, when combined, form a complete narrative—one that speaks to sustainability, local culture, and the interconnectivity of various local assets. The idea is simple, yet profound: that the convergence of resources across villages could create a rich and diverse tourism experience, where every element plays a part in a larger story.
Unfortunately, many rural communities still operate with a siloed mindset, focusing on their individual outputs rather than thinking about how these products and practices can connect with one another to create something greater. This narrow focus on isolated, single-destination experiences stifles the growth of a more diversified and interconnected tourism model. By failing to recognize the potential for synergy—whether it’s food, handicrafts, or cultural traditions—these communities miss the chance to build a sustainable supply chain that links different parts of the municipality and offers a holistic experience to visitors. As a result, rural tourism remains limited in scope, unable to fully tap into its vast potential for economic development and cultural exchange.
Reawakening a Sense of Place
Addressing these challenges requires a reawakening of the community’s sense of place. Residents must begin to see their landscapes, traditions, and daily lives not as mundane but as valuable. This process starts with mapping natural and cultural assets—whether it’s Ate Baby’s garden, the Botilao mangroves, or the traditional methods of crafting bagoong and dried fish.
Developing value chains is the next step. By identifying how these assets can complement each other, communities can create tourism experiences that are authentic, sustainable, and economically viable. The Tanim Pag-asa trail could feature workshops on backyard gardening, cooking demonstrations using local ingredients, and opportunities for visitors to try their hand at planting or harvesting. Similarly, Botilao could host eco-tours, showcasing the ecological importance of mangroves while offering a glimpse into the lives of the fisherfolk who depend on them.
Turning Ideas Into Action: Building the Right Partnerships
To translate these ideas into actionable strategies, it is essential to involve the right kind of experts. Local community experts who understand the intricacies of the area’s culture, ecology, and economic potential must be central to the process. Academic institutions, in partnership with local stakeholders, can help conduct asset mapping and provide crucial research to support the development of sustainable tourism practices. Unfortunately, many academic institutions are still not aligned with the practical needs of rural communities or fail to recognize the value of their involvement in these projects. This disconnect often limits the potential for transformative change.
Equally important are tourism specialists—those who see tourism not as a commodity to be sold, but as a means of community empowerment. These specialists can help craft authentic, place-based experiences that reflect local identities while meeting market demands. They should approach tourism development with an understanding that its purpose is to enrich both the visitor and the host community, with an emphasis on sustainability and inclusivity.
As global tourism shifts toward more meaningful, authentic experiences, there is a rising demand for cultural immersion, community-based tourism, and local storytelling. Visitors increasingly seek to engage with real, unfiltered experiences that connect them to the history, culture, and way of life of the places they visit. This form of tourism is no longer just a niche market but a growing sector, particularly as millennials and Gen Z travelers look to move beyond traditional tourist attractions. These consumers are not interested in glossy resorts or generic experiences. They are searching for deeper connections with communities, local traditions, and sustainable practices. For municipalities like Santa Cruz, this trend represents a tremendous opportunity to harness the value of their natural and cultural assets and create tourism experiences that are not only profitable but also authentic and impactful.
Rethinking Tourism Development Policy
Realizing this vision will require a shift in policy and funding priorities. Rural municipalities like Santa Cruz must rethink how they allocate resources, prioritizing programs that build human and social capital over large-scale infrastructure projects. Investments in asset mapping, capacity-building, and creating value chains between communities will encourage collaboration and resource-sharing, strengthening the tourism ecosystem as a whole.
In addition, the metrics for evaluating tourism success need to evolve. Traditional indicators, such as visitor numbers or revenue, must be expanded to include the preservation of local heritage, the strengthening of community bonds, and the sustainability of natural resources. Policies should be designed to incentivize collaboration between communities, ensuring that the benefits of tourism are distributed equitably and are aligned with the needs and aspirations of the local people.
Such a policy shift would help move away from an extractive model of tourism—where profits leave the community and the environment suffers—towards a more sustainable and inclusive tourism development approach. By focusing on the people, the place, and its potential, municipalities like Santa Cruz can create a model for rural tourism that is both economically viable and culturally enriching, preserving the very essence of their identity.
