What happens when we stop capturing stories and start co-creating them? At IMPACT 2025, award-winning filmmaker and storyteller Gunjan Menon joined us to explore exactly that. In her keynote, Visual Journeys: Harnessing Filmmaking and Storytelling, Gunjan shared how film can be a powerful tool for shifting tourism narratives, from extractive to regenerative, from surface-level to soul-stirring.

Through her work in Nepal, India, and Bhutan, Gunjan has helped destinations share community-led stories that promote ecological sustainability, cultural integrity, and meaningful travel experiences. Her presentation invited attendees to slow down, listen deeply, and embrace storytelling as a practice of care. Below, she shares more about her approach to regenerative tourism, ethical filmmaking, and what it truly means to hold space for others’ stories.

1. You have travelled to many places for your work. How do you approach the concept of “place” in the context of regenerative tourism when arriving at a new destination for your work?

I see “place” as a relationship rather than a setting. It’s a memory keeper, a storyteller in itself. It’s a living, breathing ecosystem of people, stories, culture, and ecology. When I arrive somewhere new, I slow down. I try to shed the gaze of an outsider and enter with humility, curiosity, and openness. I listen more than I speak. I try to understand how the local community relates to their environment spiritually, economically, and historically, before even thinking of picking up a camera. I listen to the rhythms of the place, its people, its silences, its textures. Regenerative tourism, to me, begins with deep observation. How do locals interact with their land? What’s sacred? What’s strained? I try to understand that before I begin to document anything.  My role is not to impose a narrative but to co-create one with the people who call that place home.

2. What challenges do you face in conveying the narratives of regenerative tourism and sustainability effectively in the places you visit and with the people you meet?

One of the biggest challenges is resisting the temptation of oversimplification. Regenerative tourism isn’t always glossy or tidy. It lives in the tension between the economy, climate vulnerability, and social justice. Conveying these complexities with respect and nuance, while still keeping the story emotionally resonant, takes careful balance. Another challenge is navigating extractive storytelling tendencies in the industry, the challenge of fighting against “poverty porn” or exoticization. I counter that by handing over the mic. Letting people tell their own stories, in their own way.

3. Regenerative tourism is about sharing authentic moments and unforgettable experiences. What techniques do you use to encourage authenticity in storytelling, particularly with subjects involved in regenerative tourism initiatives?

Authenticity emerges when people feel seen, safe, and heard. I spend time without the camera, sharing meals, walking through their daily routines, and allowing space for silence. Some of the most honest moments come when no one thinks we’re filming anymore. I encourage people to speak in their own language, at their own pace, and on their own terms. Sometimes I’m not even directing them; I’m holding space for them to be fully themselves. I let them lead the conversation and guide me toward the stories that matter most to them. I keep the crew small, the setup simple, and embrace the messiness, moments of doubt, contradiction, and vulnerability, because that’s where the real story lies.

4. What are some of your biggest challenges with telling these stories?

The emotional weight of carrying people’s stories with care is something I never take lightly. There’s the obvious stuff —funding, timelines, and access — that will always be the biggest barriers in documentary filmmaking for diverse storytellers, but the deeper challenge is also emotional. I’m always walking that line between urgency (because many of these issues are urgent) and dignity. And then there’s the constant pressure to package things for commercial platforms, while I’m just trying to stay true to the messiness and magic of real life.

5. What aspects of storytelling are most beneficial for promoting Indigenous tourism and its connection to regenerative practices?

When we center Indigenous voices,  not just as subjects, but as storytellers, teachers, and leaders, the story becomes something else entirely. It becomes a vessel for ancestral wisdom, living culture, and deep reciprocity with the land. Storytelling has this beautiful ability to connect hearts and minds — to make someone feel the sacredness of a place, not just know it. When done right, it can transform how people travel, perceive, and navigate the world.

6. Can you talk a bit more about relationship-building with the people you film and work with?

Relationship-building is the core of everything for me. I don’t believe in parachuting in, capturing a story, and disappearing. I stay in touch, sometimes for years. I check in, send updates, and ask for feedback. Ethical storytelling is reciprocal. If someone gives me their story, I owe them care, transparency, and representation. It’s not a transaction, it’s a relationship.

7. How do you develop trust with local communities or film subjects when language or time constraints may be limiting?

A kind gesture, shared tea, or a willingness to learn a community’s language, however imperfectly, can say more than words. When time is short, I lean on local collaborators and cultural liaisons who already have meaningful relationships in the community. Consent at every stage, from story development to post-production, is essential, and that’s something that isn’t time-bound. I always approach with transparency, stating my intentions clearly and seeking consent at every step. Even with time constraints, I strive to create moments of shared humanity, laughter, listening, and presence. Trust isn’t built with words alone; it’s built with care and respect.

8. What are some common challenges or misconceptions about regenerative tourism that you’ve encountered?

One major misconception is that regenerative tourism is just a buzzword for eco-tourism. In reality, I think it’s a deeper shift, which is a mindset that asks travelers to give more than they take, and tourism operators to dismantle exploitative systems. Another challenge is the romanticization of local cultures without acknowledging the systemic issues they face, such as land rights, climate migration, or lack of policy support. The way I understand it, it should be about healing, not just sustaining. It’s about involving local communities as leaders, not props, and focusing on long-term impact rather than short-term experiences. Another misconception is that tourism can’t be regenerative at scale,  but I’ve seen it work when it’s community-led, carefully designed, and grounded in values.

9. What is one part of the world you’ve visited, filmed, and provided the most insights about regenerative practices?

Filming in Menar, Rajasthan, for Wings of Hope was eye-opening. A small village transformed into a sanctuary for migratory birds, not by top-down conservation, but through grassroots ecotourism led by the community. It showed me how deeply regenerative tourism can be intertwined with cultural identity, pride, and ecological restoration, even in places facing several environmental pressures.

10. What is one advice about regenerative practices and sustainability you have learned during your travels and work?

Slow down. Regeneration isn’t urgent; it’s intentional. It requires listening, pausing, and allowing time for relationships with people, land, and story to take root. Quick fixes often perpetuate harm. True sustainability lies in humility and patience.

11. What do you think would be most impactful for storytelling in Indigenous tourism?

Agency. When communities have control over how their stories are told, where they’re shared, and what they lead to — that’s where storytelling becomes powerful. I see my role as an amplifier, not a narrator. When Indigenous storytellers are behind the camera and in front of it, the stories transcend tourism and they become acts of sovereignty, healing, and resistance.

12. What is one part of the world you’ve been dying to visit and film but haven’t yet?

The Great Bear Rainforest has been calling to me for years.

13. What are your approaches to guiding your subjects away from “acting” when telling their stories?

I don’t ask people to perform. If I sense someone slipping into that “documentary or journalistic voice” or is speaking to what they think I want to hear, I gently steer the conversation toward memories, sensations, or moments that matter to them. I often keep filming in the quiet in-between,  that’s where truth hides. I also share the process openly,  letting them give input, co-narrate, or even reshape what we’re filming. It’s about turning storytelling into a collaboration, not a performance, if that’s what they prefer.

14. As you move forward in your career, what upcoming project do you have planned that will contribute to the regenerative tourism movement?

I’m currently finishing up my feature documentary on the religious significance of freshwater turtles in India, Looking for Lao Mura. It’s a story about a critically endangered turtle. I’m also developing Dreaming in Blue, a feature documentary following two women from a remote island who are breaking barriers as marine biologists and research divers from their community. Both films explore how environmental justice is deeply linked with gender, identity, and local autonomy.

15. Where can we find these movies?

Wings of Hope is available on Roundglass Sustain’s digital platform and has been screened at the United Nations HQ for World Wildlife Day. The Firefox Guardian can be viewed on Seeker, Amazon Prime, and select digital platforms based on territories. Several other films created by us at our creative studio Beyond Premieres, can be found on our website. Updates about Looking for Lao Mura and Dreaming in Blue will be available on my website and social platforms as they are released.

Gunjan Menon reminds us that storytelling is not just about visuals and voiceovers; it’s about presence, humility, and reciprocity. Her work challenges tourism and media to move beyond performance and into genuine connection, where communities are collaborators, not subjects. As we look toward a more regenerative future, storytellers like Gunjan light the way, inviting us to listen more attentively, care more deeply, and travel with greater intention.

You can follow Gunjan’s ongoing projects and explore her films at Beyond Premieres or on her social channels for updates on Looking for Lao Mura and Dreaming in Blue.

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