Tashigang village head Pasang Tsering, right. (Photo by Chen Bei/chinadaily.com.cn)
Logging ban
The same year, the local government began to ban commercial logging in virgin forests.
"We overemphasized timber manufacturing for economic development in the 1980s and 1990s at the expense of a fragile forest ecosystem," said Tashi Dondrub, director of the Nyingchi Forestry Bureau.
"The case of Tashigang was not alone in Tibet during that period, and large-scale wood-cutting led to a decreasing number of endangered birds and animals as well as the frequent incidence of landslides".
But what would life be like after commercial logging was prohibited?
It became an urgent issue for the government, according to Tashi. "The injunction would mean nothing if we didn't help find new economic growth modes to raise villagers' incomes," he said.
"The ban did not immediately stop axes chopping through forests," Pasang said. He explained most villagers had lived by logging for nearly 20 years, which made it difficult to find new ways to earn money.
It was in 2005 that an effective brake was put on illegal logging, thanks to a national guide on the management of public forests.
The central government began earmarking 5 yuan for the protection of every mu (0.066 hectare) of forest, with 3 yuan going to a ranger and 2 yuan for local governments to buy saplings.
Tashigang village, comprising 64 households, has since received more than 1.3 million yuan, or 4,500 yuan per head, annually for protecting the surrounding forest from logging.
Mode of ecotourism
Several factors finally helped Pasang and his village get on track in developing ecotourism.
The unknown backpacker and the logging ban were incentives. As village head, he began publicizing the important role untouched nature was playing for the village's offspring and the nation as a whole.
The business savvy also saw a bright prospect as an increasing number of holidaymakers were seeking a break in his village and the surrounding area.
Support from government was another decisive force.
"The operation of the village's home inns was initially rough and on a small scale, with only a dozen households' spare rooms provided to tourists," said Liu Shunjiang, head of the tourism bureau in Nyingchi'sBakyub district.
The rapid development of home inns gathered pace in 2009 when 20 impoverished households were granted 910,000 yuan from the government to build home inns.
With more houses being built, more travelers were swarming to Tashigang.
Pasang profited from the boom. Revenue from his home inn topped 100,000 yuan in 2009, compared with 80,000 yuan in 2006 and 20,000 yuan in 2003.
Last year, Pasang was rewarded after investing 1.6 million yuan to rebuild 26 double rooms. In just July and August, during peak tourist season, he earned 180,000 yuan.
The whole village also rode the fast train. Of the 64 households 42 are now running home inns, with revenue totaling 5.89 million yuan last year.
"Wealth won't fall on us without the forest recovering," Pasang said.
A pure, holy and tranquil mountain village comes first forever – that's what a Tibetan village head, with business acumen, has learnt between the 1980s to the 2010s.
