Here
I sit at the Ngurah Rai Airport sipping my last Bali Kopi (dark
coffee) and eating my last Balinese banana pancake pondering on what
I have learnt about this beautiful place….and myself.
For
two months I have dabbled in the world of the expats – a diverse
and independent group. I have tried to understand the intricacies of
Balinese culture through the taxi drivers, friends and workers I have
met from housekeepers to rice farmers And I have tried to unravel
the mystery of mental health care in a country where it is given no
priority at all, and people are literally jailed in their own
backyards without treatment and forced to be outcasts from society.
Cat’s
way of introducing me to people here was to say “This is Dianne –
she’s test-driving Ubud”. A very apt way of describing my time
here.
And
now what do I think?
Am I
ready to give up my Australian citizenship and move here permanently?
Definitely not. The ties to home are too strong and the difficulties
with many practical aspects of life here, such as land/house
ownership, are too challenging and risky.
Am I
ready to spend months at a time living here? Absolutely.
And
if I did I would be joining vast numbers of expats from around the
world who spend months at a time here. Some are here for love: they
come for a holiday and stay for a long time....or a short time
depending on the outcome of the love affair!
For
some the decision is purely economic. Where in Australia can you live
on the Aged Pension in a beautiful natural environment in a lovely
villa with lots of people desperate to do the household chores, and
where the food is so cheap it’s not worth cooking? And they manage
to do ‘visa runs’ and travel as well! But there’s also lots of
young things living here establishing businesses, doing degrees
online and searching for their true selves through yoga and eating
organically!
Cat
is a Canadian who was my landlord during my stay. She has lived in
Asia for 26 years and spent the last 15 years in Bali. She is part of
a network of older people, mostly women, who either live here or
spend most of their time here. They all have to get away from Bali at
times when it all gets too much but they lead interesting and
independent lives here with access to good medical care and if they
need it, extensive support. Cat described the situation of an
Australian man, the husband of a friend, who had Alzheimers. He lived
out his life with two full-time carers in his own home with the
support of the local Balinese villagers who tolerated his
occasionally bizarre behaviour with great kindness.
Some
of the big pluses about my being here are:
Realising
that I am capable of surviving on my own if I ever had to, and often
enjoying the luxury of doing what I feel like doing as opposed to the
expectations of family, work etc etc has been a positive thing. There
was never a time when I felt lonely or isolated and if I had joined
all of the expat’s activities I would have been extraordinarily
busy!
The
Balinese people are exactly as they are described: shy, but very
responsive to a smile and very happy to try and have a conversation.
The taxi-drivers at the end of my lane were always very happy to see
me and have a chat. So I learnt some of their life stories, met some
of their family members and they taught me Indonesian as well. They
also kept a lookout for me as I tramped in and out of home. I’m
sure they found me quite odd because of my insistence on walking
everywhere, especially as it was bad business for them!
The
Balinese version of the Hindu culture is a wonderful thing: there is
a spirituality in everything and every day that underpins what they
do. Their faith in the Gods and the importance of traditional
healing, cleansing rituals and offerings every day gives them a sense
of purpose and contentment that I admire. Sometimes it can be
challenging for a westerner: the day Made told me I didn’t need to
wear a helmet on a Vespa ride because I had temple clothes on and the
Gods would protect me was a bit confronting. I wasn’t sure I had as
much faith in the Gods as he did. But I didn’t wear it and I did
survive so who knows??!
Of
course the Hindu faith is strict and caste oriented. It’s very
judgmental about homosexuality and that is a great burden for many.
The endless ceremonies can make it impossible to run a business and
the costs of the ceremonies for each banjar can be crippling.
The
way the communities operate is very different to Australia and
creates a strong sense of belonging and a potential for support, in
theory. You become a ‘banjar’’ member according to where you
live. So they operate like a village where lots of families work
together to look after the environment, and each other and the
leaders have responsibility for all aspects of life in that village
from ceremonies to the roads. There is a young man’s banjar for the
unmarried young men, and separate women’s and men’s banjars for
each village. Allegiance to your family banjar is strong and everyone
is expected to play a part in any work : from building Oggi Oggi
monsters for Nyepi, to contributing in some way to the costs of any
projects. This system does create a strong sense of community.
The
concept of time in Bali is both frustrating and to be admired. ‘Jam
karet’ is the term used for ‘not on time’ or ‘Bali time’.
If you expect anything to happen at an appointed time you will be
sadly disappointed and met by a shrug of the shoulders and “Jam
karet!”. Whilst the concept of slowing down and being less
pressured by time is a lovely one, sometimes Jam Karet is simply an
excuse for disorganisation and a lack of concern for others. And if
you complain you will be accused of needing to relax and get with
‘Bali time’.
It
is a place of contradictions. The amazing Subak system which manages
every drop of water required to enable rice to grow on multi-layered
terraces of rice fields is remarkable. But the drainage along the
roads and the lack of attention paid to managing the monsoonal
downpours of the rainy season is also remarkable.
Whilst
everyone appreciates the beauty of the natural environment and the
built environment too, the thoughtless disposal of rubbish is totally
incongruent. The ubiquitous plastic water cup is dispersed by the
hundreds at every event and provides only one cup of water, but also
the plastic cup, cover and straw to besmirch the environment.
Corruption
is rife, although the current President is on a mission to get rid of
it. It stretches from paying a small bribe to any policemen who pulls
you up for anything, to having to pay to get a job as a policemen so
you can be paid an alarmingly inadequate salary which makes bribery
an essential part of your income. I spoke to a delightful young GP
whose dream is to be an Obstetrician/ Gynaecologist. He told me
calmly that it would never happen . He had not the ability to pay to
get into the training program, nor came from an influential family
nor knew any of the specialists running the program and so would
never be given a place. So much for rewarding ability!
And
don’t get me started on the mental health service system! It’s
impossible to say it’s bad: it is simply non-existent. One big
mental hospital for Bali and basically no community based mental
health services at all. Simply appalling in this day and age!
And
of course there is the heat! Once you get over the fact that some
days you will simply be covered in perspiration dripping everywhere,
and you give up on the idea of looking glamourous, it seems bearable.
Drinking lots of water is essential of course, and you do acclimatise
a bit. But if you really don’t like the humidity and the heat then
Bali is not for you
Despite
the challenges and contradictions Bali can still be a wonderful place
to be. It changes all of the time. There’s always something about
to happen : a ceremony, a cremation, a temple birthday, a wedding and
I find just travelling the roads endlessly fascinating. Is today the
day we really will run over a dog or a chook wandering on to the
road?? Are those guys in the woodcarving village really carving
wooden penises? Is that Oggi Oggi monster really going to be that
big! And the smiles on the faces of children and the toothless rice
farmers and everyone when you speak to them are always welcoming.
I
loved it all and I will be back.
Dianne
