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BALI LIVING STORIES & ESSAYS |
1. WELCOME ON BALI
Bali has often been set aside
from normal life, from the worries and deeds of man, and has
been risen to "the islands of the gods" or the last
paradise. I must say, it is a lost paradise. The "New age"
has definitely come across Bali, and modern times have entered
every household and every brain cell of Balinese people.
TV (with
Mexican soap opera series and MTV rap) has contributed its share
to the loss of something paradise-like: life in support of each
other, in harmony with nature. Nature
is rapidly donated to "progress", and support is something
sought after from other people, rather than a virtue in supporting
others.
Balinese,
as most people on earth- have developed SURVIVAL STRATEGIES
to support oneself first of all. How
to get money with the least amount of work, seems to be the
common goal. Foreigners (Orang asing) are most welcome - as
long as they donate, spend, give and contribute.
The foremost
interest in foreigners is their valuta asing (foreign currency),
which they think is attached to each foreigner by a rope with
an endless supply of Euros/Dollars etc. As soon as it becomes
obvious, that you are not spending or donating, the interest
in "you" fades rapidly- which has never been an interest
in YOU as a person in the first place.
The famous
smiles of Balinese people, encarved in travel posters and movie
pictures as early as the fourties, have been luring foreigners
to the island of the gods, and still are to be seen and flashed
at you . Some of them from the heart, some of them from the
brain, and -alas, more and more no smiles at all, but silent
faces that don't seem to see you and notice you at all.
I cannot rid myself of the feeling, that these silent faces
keep their feelings hidden, because of their dilemma to decide
whether they want to be angry at you for intruding their (once
easier) life, or to be polite, because tradition requires, or
to be smiling, so your "Valuta" gets distributed.
To be fair
with the Balinese population: I get all the above kinds of smiles
and non-smiles every day. There are the smiles from the heart,
the funny situations, where one surprises one another, with
no needs for words at all. There are smiles of recognition,
even of respect and friendship.
Then there
are smiles, mostly accompanied by a high pitch tone of "Hellooo",
that are aimed at some kind of conversation, leading towards
selling you one thing or another. In that case you have still
the chance to alter the subject before it is carried too far,
or to terminate the direction with a blank Hello- and nothing
after it.
But then
there are the smiles, that invite you to investigate the person,
to entangle in conversation- and finally in opening an art shop
or a mutual business, for a person, that you have not known
a day ago, and have not sought for. But since prices (for building
material, for renting a shop, or the capital for a business
that sustains a whole family) are so cheap, one is soon at the
point of generously helping some new friend out.
Now there
are the countless stories, of where helping out can lead to.
Here is just one sample of a very moderate sort: A young Australian
lady had a leaning towards Nyoman, a handsome young village
man, who spoke a bit of English, due to his 2 years "working"
in Kuta (whatever that means).The girl did not exactly fall
in love with Nyoman, and had no intention to get married, but
since she made a new friend (in a third world country), she
felt like sharing into the global development aid scheme, on
a very private one to one base: She gave Nyoman money to buy
two cows. Now this is a very smart thing to do: you give money
for something, that accumulates money, like providing a sewing
machine, so income can be accumulated over a long period of
time. The "cow business", as they call it in Bali,
is such a thing: You buy a cow, put it in somebody's garden,
the garden's grass gets taken care of, the cow, gives manure
for the garden, it growths by itself, and in no time, you sell
it in the market and get twice the price, to buy two cows, which
will have calves, and this is when cash comes rolling in.
The only
thing is, that the Australian girl did not buy the cow herself,
leaving this up to an experienced farmer (Nyoman), and went
back down under. Next time she came to Bali, she asked Nyoman
how the cows were doing. Nyoman could not give an answer. Finally
the girl went to the garden to see the cows herself - but there
were no cows. Cornering Nyoman, the shy answer was "No
cows -but chicken". What chicken, the girl asked. "Fighting
chicken" Nyoman replied. Meaning the entrusted money had
gone into "Tajen" -cock fighting- but not to buy a
rooster instead of a cow, but to bet -alas- on the wrong rooster.
Gone. Irrevocably.
The stories
change, but the pattern remains. You could put instead of cow
the word Villa, or even Hotel.
Getting
"hooked" on the beauty of it all...
There are
several ways, how you can get hooked on the beauty of the island.
May it be
"lovely families", beautiful girls, business opportunities,
or ethnological interests- it always comes down to your greed
for something to capture and keep - like a beautiful flower,
that has caught your heart, and just the same way as the flower
would, the thing you have picked withers away, once one tries
to preserve it.
Yet - before you realize this, there is a long way to go, and
(what the heck, why not) to be experienced. So you are playing
with the option to settle in Bali. Buy something. At least a
house. Later perhaps a business, or items to send in containers.
Lots of opportunities to make money. Lots of opportunities to
loose money.
Ways to
talk you into spending (investing) money.
-
Business
opportunities. You get offered incredible interest rates
for private loans (24% p.A.), sometimes in combination with
a business proposal, like "let's put our "modal"
(capital) together, buy goods and export them to a friend
in a western country". After you have changed all your
traveler cheques, cleared your account at home by means
of credit cards, faxes to your banker, and talking on the
phone to your father- you purchase whatever the incredible
deal promises: bamboo chairs, silver, Spa products or demon
masks. You put the items into a storage for later shipment
by container. By that time you already feel like a professional,
and include words like net weight, consumer taxes and fumigation.
You leave Bali
with a red face- from working over hours, walking in the
glistening sun through rice fields in search of Ketut the
famous mask carver, and having had a heat rush in your rented
box on wheels ("Jimney") -stuck in the daily traffic
jam, while other fellow foreigners still dream up their
paradise with a Pina Colada at the pool bar in Nusa Dua.
You feel you have reached somewhere- to an international
stage of trade, with a high "return on investment".
But when you open the container in Hamburg or Montreal,
you realize, that you now have to pay taxes for something
you did not intend to ship: bugs that came as "blind
passengers" along in your boxes along the eight week
journey through the seven seas. They had enough time to
eat their way through your bamboo chairs, demon masks and
Jepara Jati ("Teak") furniture. The fumigation
was something you understood had to be paid, but - alas!
so where all the items that you had shipped: paid, but worthless
on arrival.
In bad cases,
the items shipped were different from the items you had
chased , bought and stored at the storage house.
They had been changed, after you had left the island !
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Helping
opportunities There are plenty. Every day provides a chance
to become a self made aid organization. From your taxi drivers
need for new tiers, your tour guide's need for a new roof,
your waiters hope for a foreign study place, your bar acquaintance's
necessity to go home and support her family- all the way
up to build roads for a whole village, just in order to
be able to drive your car to your house (Happened to me).
Bali's society
is based on help. The family clan is the social security,
and if someone has to have an operation, a far off relative
will sell his motorbike to finance the hospital bill. Based
and raised on "help from others", it feels very
natural for them to ask YOU for help, since the one who
has more (money) will be the one who gives (money). With
an unsurpassed casualness Balinese people can ask you to
pay their phone bill, their daughters school fee, their
wedding, or their debts at a bank for not to loose the land
title to their property.
In the beginning you laugh at them (since you don't know
whether it is a joke, or a scam). They are not even offended
at your laughter. They laugh with you, -and come back to
the issue more seriously the next day. Over time you find
out it is serious, and they would not ask you if they weren't
in need. Only- how many families can you support, how many
roofs can you renovate (before the rainy season), how many
school fees can you pay, before you are in dire straits
yourself.
There is no way
out with reasoning like " I already paid to a welfare
organization", or " I already support three school
kids and two families!"
The answer is: "But I have six children, you have only
two". It is here, in Bali, that you are pushed to make
decisions. You have to learn to say "NO", even
to friendly and desperate folks. Best is you give whatever
feels good to you, and to others you don't give. WITHOUT
any connection inside your memory system. It is 100% Non-giving
at certain moments, with no regards to moments you have
given.
You risk being looked upon as stingy, and some people in
the village might hate you (happened to me), because you
were lending Gede M. one Million Rp. for two months, but
Made S. did not succeed in pulling a credit from you, so
his family is annoyed at your "stinginess". That
takes me right to the issue of "envy". It is such
a big issue, that we have to come back to it in a separate
text.(*envy)
THE COMMON WAY
to talk you into "donating" is to start with a
little story, while driving you around in a car, or sitting
at a warung. You are actually here to cut off from problems
(isn't that what a holiday is all about?). You glance into
far distance, taking in the smells and colours of a late
afternoon - and the (Balinese) person next to you asks:
"How old are you, Sir?" You reply halfheartedly
"38", because it just shoots out your mouth, as
if interrogated at a western police station. Before you
start to wonder why does he want to know my age, he asks
you "Are you married? "? Now you withdraw from
the focus on Balinese colors and smells, and shift your
attention to the guy next to you: "Why?"
But he does not hear your question, because he is busy with
his follow-up question: "how many children?" You
have a little compassion with the fellow, and say to yourself,
perhaps that is the way they make conversation... when he
says: "I have six children, one died after it was born,
and one lives with my sister, the youngest is sick, and
I need money for the hospital." Wow, wow. what is this?
What is he aiming at? This is not the way I am used to converse
with a stranger. But the fellow is nothing short of aiming
at your willingness to give. To pay his daughters hospital
bill, or whatever he is in need for.
I had a driver
(for my foreign guests), who would take them during a day
tour on a little de-tour, passing by his house, "to
meet my wife and my lovely kids". When the foreigners,
used to sit on chairs, had to do up with a mat and a leaking
roof, he had all reasons to mention that he would not be
able to fix the roof before the rainy season... And the
tourist would "be very happy to help out", and
leave some cash for his home.
I fired him, after I found out that he had "borrowed"
a friends house in bad condition - because I had been to
his house with chairs and TV, and roof and his two healthy
children.
I also had a driver, who had a leaking roof, a sick grandmother
under his roof, a number of children, and a car accident,
that he would not be able to pay for. (*accidents). Some
helpful guests to Bali, including myself, collected some
money and helped him out. Which saved his family, his home,
ensured his kids to go to school, and all was real.
You never know. Only you can make the decision. That is
what I mean.
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Official
donations. This is just a word. It is the continuation of
the above on a bigger scale. Individuals ask for "Help".
Government officials, police officers and communes ask for
"donations".
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