Living with Coastal Change: Lessons from Indonesia

In June, I had the privilege of participating in the NSF-ASI Graduate Training Program in Coastal Hazards—a multidisciplinary, international exchange focused on natural hazards, climate adaptation, and resilience in one of the world’s most complex and dynamic coastal regions.

We began our academic exchange at Diponegoro University (UNDIP) with campus/facility tours and student presentations.

For two immersive weeks, we traveled across the island of Java, Indonesia, engaging with university faculty, researchers, engineers, and community members who live and work at the intersection of science, risk, and resilience. The program took us far beyond the classroom—into rice fields flooded by saltwater intrusion, fishing villages contending with vanishing shorelines, and cities where land subsidence and sea-level rise are colliding in real time. We listened, we learned, and we asked questions not just about how to adapt, but about how to adapt equitably—in ways that center both local knowledge and long-term sustainability.

We attended lectures on climate change, coastal hazards, and integrated coastal zone management, gaining insight into local resilience strategies across Java’s coastlines.

Every place we visited told a story. In Semarang, we stood on coastal roads permanently underwater, where homes now rest on stilts and tidal flooding is part of daily life. In Demak, we saw mangrove restoration used not just as a buffer against erosion, but as a lifeline for communities losing arable land. On the slopes of Mount Merapi, we learned how volcanic hazards are monitored by researchers and respected by local people who have lived alongside the volcano for generations.

Visited Mount Merapi, one of Indonesia’s most active volcanoes, for a day of field learning with university professors and a local eruption survivor.

What struck me most wasn’t just the scale of the challenges—it was the creativity and commitment of those addressing them. We saw how researchers are developing cutting-edge models of hazard risk while communities mobilize with traditional knowledge and social networks to respond. The solutions are rarely simple, but they are rooted in place, people, and lived experience.

Spent the morning at Segoroyoso, examining an exposed fault line mined by locals.

As a coastal scientist working thousands of miles away, this experience challenged me to think more expansively about my own research. It reminded me that resilience isn’t just a technical term—it’s a lived reality. It’s about the decisions people make every day in the face of uncertainty, the strength of communities, and the stories we choose to tell about the future.

Observed batik artisans at work; hand-dyeing fabrics using traditional wax-resist techniques passed down through generations; which offers insight into regional motifs, tools, and the enduring role of batik in Indonesian identity.

I’m especially grateful to the National Science Foundation for supporting this experience, to Boston University for leading its coordination, and to our generous hosts at Diponegoro University and Universitas Gadjah Mada. Thank you to the instructors, researchers, students, and community members who opened their homes, shared their work, and welcomed us so fully.

Visited the coastal community of Demak, where land subsidence, sea-level rise, and erosion have submerged homes and displaced families. The region experiences land subsidence rates of up to 6–65 cm per year, exacerbating tidal flooding and coastal erosion.

I return with new collaborators and friends, a deeper appreciation for the role of community-informed science, and a renewed commitment to research that is globally engaged, locally grounded, and driven by connection as much as data.