Humidity and humanity. The sun, surf and the sales… the idyllic scenario for a holiday, yet more a part of life for some. Friends constantly remind friends of the good times they had in this place, a place convenient in the sense of cost and proximity. Bali: the perfect getaway.
Poverty and pollution. The drugs, diarrhea and the dirty mange ridden animals… the ideal picture for a current affair program used to scare potential visitors, a constant reminder of the dark side to this country. A place and economy held together by capitalist gain through tourism. Bali: the perfect storm.
The two sides of the same coin, one must come with the other. But every coin has an edge, a third side which doesn’t hold attention unless one directly faces it. The trend continues in this situation. During the day, in Bali, time is divided between doing the sightseeing, drinking brews by the pool and haggling with the smiling, yet somewhat pesky locals for useless gimmicks and B-grade clothing. What you would expect from a holiday?
Then the sun goes down.
Everyone in Bali wants to squeeze as much money out of you as possible, in any way possible. A fact that you have to come to grips with very quickly upon arrival. This carries on into the night, and yet, once the stars come out everyone’s mindset and the vibe of the city changes dramatically. The locals still persist in trying to sell you something and try their hardest to rob you blind, but now the smiles are all but gone, the drug dealers are in their optimum selling capacity. Whether it be magic mushrooms, methamphetamines, Viagra and from time to time marijuana (for those who are foolish enough to even consider) all from the comfort of wherever you happen to be walking on the street, and then again every couple of steps you take. The tourists also adopt a new frame of mind. From relaxing, swimming and sight seeing, the night signals the start of a race between doing as much damage to the brain as possible and the primal urge to mate with anything that walks on its hind legs. And I’m not so sure everyone there is so picky.
The night-life is always throbbing in Bali, and after taking my ill girlfriend back to the hotel, I decided to venture out on my lonesome, sobriety running thick in my veins. I walk into the eye of the storm, the epicentre of activity and play my favourite game: ‘People Watching.’ The nightclubs and the animalistic human behavior within reminded me, very avidly, of a nature documentary following the behavioral changes adopted by birds during the mating season. I will try to convey what I saw…
Three peacocks strut into the club. Shirtless one and all, they glisten from head to foot with bodily secretions. Small gym shorts and backwards hats equipped, they are all here for the same reason; the hunt beckons! Swagger only slightly halted by a sudden urge to consume more alcohol, and a quick stop to the dunny complete; they launch straight back into step. The first ladies approach, and in a magnificent display of masculine dominance, all the cards are pulled out. Each young peacock undergoes an expansion of the chest, shoulders pushed back and muscles tensed, he flares his plumage.
The females seem to be responding well to their displays, judging and calculating they filter out the weak, searching for only the most well equipped males to pair with. And finally, a male has caught attention. Swiftly, the body language changes and the dance becomes more sexualised, the facial expressions enthralled. He’s done it! High fives all around and he’s off to his hotel with hen under wing.
Breaking away from this tumult of human exultation, not but a few hundred paces down the road from the heart of the club district towers the great and brilliantly carved memorial to the 2002 Bali bombings.
Set in the spot where the bombings actually occurred, this large and beautiful piece of Balinese artwork stands a silent sentinel over the Kuta tourist district, holding in its bosom over two hundred names of the souls who perished during the attack, most of them Australian who were, prior to the explosions, doing the exact same thing I witnessed not minutes before. This sombre testament to the fallen, to me serves as the most constant and avid reminder of what can happen in such a place as this, perhaps too constant a reminder for most, as they seem to block out its existence completely.
This is the edge of the coin. One must be immersed in Bali to recognize it, but alas the message was lost on all but a few. As I stood in contemplation, the heartbeat of the night thumping away in the background and the herds of mindless, inebriated youths stampeding past the site, scarce was the individual who took the time to see the memorial, let alone stop and consider its purpose. Sure, people posed for pictures in front of it. For what purpose I wondered. Another snapshot for the album “on holiday in Bali” judging by the flippant posing. Photo taken and cigarette butt discarded carelessly, they’re off again, the message all but discarded in the frenzy.
I began chatting to the lone guard defending the monument; he seemed taken aback when I offered him a cigarette, obviously not accustomed to such friendliness from an Australian, a good insight it seemed into the general attitude from the locals. After a time of him graciously accepting and then enthusiastically wondering if I would want to buy any mushrooms (magic), which I declined, we spent a while laughing over the various individuals spewing in the street or simply running around half naked in the traffic. I then asked him where I could deposit my cigarette butt so as to keep the memorial clean. The look he gave me, I remember quite clearly; a widening of the eyes, an arching of the eyebrow in incredulity. According to this fellow, one of his daily chores was to sweep the cigarettes and other discarded waste off of the memorial steps. The notion of someone specifically wishing to keep it clean was almost absurd to him.
This information struck me as highly disturbing. Is this what our value system has come to? Have we no empathy or respect, just because it’s a foreign country? In this perfect getaway do we retreat from work, stress and apparently our conscience as well? My holiday to Bali proved to be an eye-opener.
Bali: the sun, the surf, the sickness and your safety.
I write this not to advertise and not to discourage people from going to Bali. I write it as a constant reminder to people who land on its shores that there are things that you should be aware of. First of all, everything is enjoyable in moderation. The drinks are cheap, the drugs abundant and the nightlife thoroughly enjoyable, but all pleasure can go drastically downhill with certain instigations. Secondly, respect and be aware of what has happened in Bali’s history and what sinister activities happen there on a daily basis. Learn to avoid them, be prepared and don’t go in blind. Third, take care how you treat the locals and the cultural aspects of the country. A bit of respect can go a long way in terms of the reciprocation you will receive, and helps avoid confrontation with sketchy individuals and the authorities (or occasionally a mix of the two).
And last of all, try to retain some dignity! The Balinese already collectively laugh at us Australians behind our backs (when not straight to our faces).
Let’s work on fixing that opinion.
Photo Credits
Sunset at Jimbaran Beach, Bali – Wikimedia Creative Commons
Bali Memorial – by Jonathan Liem – Wikimedia Public Domain
Guest Author Bio
Kyle Black
Hi there, my name is Kyle! I’m a 19 year old Scottish born lad raised from when I was very young until about eight-ish years ago, in various countries in Africa; including Uganda, Kenya, Zimbabwe and Malawi. When I was twelve years old, I moved from Uganda to West Australia with my mother and older brother.
Well, apart from my unusual upbringing, there isn’t much to tell! I finished secondary education in 2010 and since then I have just been writing in my spare time, whatever comes into my head and I’m also working on a fantasy novel based on a world I’m creating with my brother. 🙂
I haven’t had much in the way of tertiary education relative to creative writing / journalism etc. but I have a semi-decent vocabulary, so please bear with my work, pretend you didn’t see the minor discrepancies and you might enjoy what I’ve written!
I’m still a fledgling writer, but I’m eager to learn and better myself as well as I may. I hope you enjoy what I have written and that being said I will continue to write with or without your approval! 🙂
Much love,
Kyle Black
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