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The land is sacred to Indonesians. Or at least it used to be. I didn’t realize this until my father showed me the draft of his book, a compilation of 1,000 local proverbs regarding land and agriculture. Nor had I thought about it until I realized how little respect some people have for the land in their possession.

I recently visited both Bali and Yogyakarta, two areas known for their beautiful landscapes. The breathtaking rice paddies, hills, forests and gorges, in combination with the artistic and cultural richness of these areas, draw millions of foreign and domestic tourists each year.

On the Island of the Gods, I stayed at my friends’ house in Nyuh Kuning village, in the cultural center of Ubud. Arriving there at midnight, I stayed up until dawn and took my camera and tripod to the balcony, where I started taking shots of the surrounding area.

Rooftops with traditional architecture, rice fields and buildings under construction were what I captured.

Riding around on a motorbike during the day, I saw many more buildings being built around Ubud. Rice fields surrounded by layer upon layer of coconut trees and the edges of leafy ravines were among the favorite settings for the new homes and villas.

If we look at the natural growth of the population in Bali, as well as the growth driven by tourism, conversion of agricultural land into residential property is inevitable. This is especially true when the local government is urged to expedite development, and when the Balinese have become accustomed to letting their land be built upon in exchange for dozens of years of lease money.

Still in Bali, one hot afternoon I was pointed in the direction of a charming temple located at the bottom of a ravine. Right in front of the temple was a traditional bathing compound where locals enjoyed streams of cool water in their birthday suits. Near the bath was a rocky river with a strong current, and across it — unfortunately — was one of Ubud’s most famous resorts.

Unfortunate, because I could imagine how the natural water source behind the ravine’s walls must have been compromised during the construction of the vast resort. So imagine my surprise when a local I met at the public bath asked me if I was interested in buying a piece of land right behind the temple.

“For what?” I asked.

“So you can have a house in Bali,” he replied.

“But wouldn’t that ruin the beauty of this site?” I asked.

His response sent a chill down my spine: “Well, as long as I get money.”

“Tanah ento tenget duen Ida Bhatara” (“The land is sacred, a gift from God Almighty”), one of the Balinese proverbs in my father’s book, was what I should have thrown back at this man. But his words reminded me that money is becoming the new god.

In Yogyakarta, I was also offered some land by my regular masseur. He is a man in his 70s, and also a farmer. Realizing that his time on earth is nearly over, he has decided that instead of splitting his land between his children, he will simply sell it and distribute the money.

“My children are not interested in farming, and each of their plots is too small anyway,” he said. “If you’re interested in buying, or if you know someone who might be interested, please let me know. It’s cheap.”

His land is in Bantul, a district in the southern part of Yogyakarta where land conversion is becoming more and more common.

Locals and newcomers, many from Jakarta, have slowly turned Bantul’s immense spread of rice fields into dwellings. The construction of new housing complexes is common.

When one considers a proverb from Central Java regarding the sanctity of the land, it’s shocking to see the extent to which these ancient, once-honored ideas are now forgotten and disregarded.

The proverb, “ Bumi sepacul bondho sepikul,” means that a piece of land is worth more than other wealth. And another famous saying, “ Gemah ripah loh jinawi, tata tentrem kartaraharja ,” means land that yields an abundance of fruit and vegetables guarantees a peaceful nation.

And don’t forget that this land was something Indonesians fought the Dutch for, over hundreds of years.

Neglecting the land and nurturing infrastructure may mean sowing the seeds for a dark and doomed future.