Ubud
EAT Bali Buda
HIKE The Campuan Ridge
FIND the Pyramids of Chi
DO hire a driver & take day trips to Tegalalang Rice terrace & Goa Gajah
julio
In retrospect, going from the uber perfection and social order of Switzerland to Indonesia was a little bit of a stretch. Picking something in the middle to ease us into Asia would have been a better move to make things more balanced. I had traveled to Bali in 1992 and remembered a richly spiritual, authentically Balinese and barely inhabited travel destination. Things have changed.
Luckily, we were easily picked up at the airport by our buddy Wayan Heri and whisked off to the jungle city Ubud of Eat, Pray, Love fame. We had booked a “villa” stay for a month partially to it being so inexpensive and a good place to hide out and get into our digital nomad lifestyle. As we swept in and out of insane traffic jams, oceans of mopeds and near close calls at 9:30pm it was evident we were not in Europe anymore.
Our villa was in the middle of the rice paddies on the famous Campuhan Ridge amidst local artisans and temples a good half an hour walk from the Ubud city center. We had arrived in the evening to a massive traffic jam, finally got to our villa, dropped our baggage and began our first night of jet lag. Up all night we were left staring at the top of the bug net and the immense selection of mosquitoes and various species of insect at the top of the tent. It was a rough night.
When we awoke to sweeping jungle views and the slow tempo of life on the ridge we were briefly charmed and more excited to get out and explore our new neighborhood. As we walked the ridge to town the heat took us over and by the time we reached the town we were drenched with perspiration and then had to walk on a loud dusty street up to the town center. We stopped and had lunch at a vegan restaurant, of which there are many in Ubud, catering to the droves of new incoming "high-vibe" tourists. These restaurants all have some things in common: you think you have found paradise (because everything is so cheap in comparison) but all tastes the same. Suffice to say, we had hummus which we had been missing, a welcome luxury we are used to.
Seeing the Balinese constantly performing puja by lighting incense, leaving delicacies for the gods, and attending is inspiring and a beautiful practice. Their devotion is truly the best part of Bali.
Walking through the streets of Ubud quickly became an exercise in the power of saying NO. Taxi? Lunch? Marijuana? No thanks. All turns seemed to put us in the spin cycle of offers and characters popping out of corners to offer every tourist special in the book with a kind of lazy, put on enthusiasm. As we noticed the droves of lithe, lycra-wearing yogi girls and bearded, bun-topped, Western spirit men our experience became less and less authentic, and the meat hook reality came seeping in.
I am a Yogi. I play music. I dance. In fact, I've organized many and performed at ecstatic dance events. This scene made me wanna retch, talk to no one and run for the hills. Super cheesy and played out. Too much Neo Tantra. Too much everything.
People have been coming to Bali since the 1920’s. First a Dutch colony, now a travel hub for rowdy Australians, premature spirit-seeking westerners and Julia Roberts wannabes. Bali is officially saturated with doody. Many enterprising locals have learned the kind of Bali visitors want to see and are eager to perform/deliver it for a small price. From the local dances to the hidden wonders, everything has been uber commodified and packaged, albeit in banana leaves; it is still in many places, a highly choreographed show.
The people Balinese ARE hot and sweet. There IS an underlying blanket of divinity they show for all things and people. There are many unspoiled wonders of Bali, BUT tourism is the primary bread and butter and is starting to show. The endless cycle of Bali scenester people does not seem to help or create independence for the Hindu Island in a rising sea of Indonesian Islamic fundamentalism either.
It was fun for a while but we left two weeks ahead of schedule and I was thrilled when we got on the plane for India.
christina
Sitting amongst the rice fields and staring onto the horizon of “paradise” is different today than I had imagined a short time ago. Last night, we watched “Done Bali” – a documentary on the history of Bali and, as is always the case, more information can lead to soul searching. The doc (that I recommend anybody watching) tracks the history of Bali, once occupied by the Dutch and tourism's history and impact here. While colonization and its effects of it are always felt and should be remembered and thought through, the part of the movie that sat with me was when a local person being interviewed said that there is no word for “paradise” in Balinese.
This idea of paradise is an escape for us in the West (away from the perils of development), so we have idealized the simple life of living close to the land and in “nature,” ritualistically honoring the Earth. I am this person. This is my 3rd time in Bali, and I’ve also lived in Hawaii (where I should mention I learned so much about the history of Hawaiian oppression and their legitimate (by international law standards) claim to sovereignty). But what of this idea of paradise?
As a native New Yorker, I have, since I was a child, sought the idealism of this idea of native paradise. Perhaps as an escape, but more likely as a projection that the world is simpler and more kind in this place of our collective dream. The film spoke about how tourism has become the culture and culture is the tourism… and one hotel owner said that the key to keeping people coming back was to be the enchanted version of themselves that has been sold to foreigners… and though there is without a doubt a lot of authenticity in the interaction we have had with local people – there is also this lingering question of whether their temperament is dictated by necessity – in other words – are they choosing to be this kind and sweet or is this the “show” for tourists? It reminds me a lot of the idea of Aloha, which is the leading current driving Hawaiian tourism. Aloha is genuine, but it is also manufactured for tourism and the economy – see Haunani Trask’s work out of UH Manoa. This is something that I came face to face with while living on the islands there, and here it is, rearing its head again.
A few weeks ago, we saw another documentary on the first contact of an Amazon tribe with the Western world (the movie is called First Contact) - it was excellent. Also, it touched on the same ideas around identity, premium (or the idea of living life close to the land), and how it makes westerners feel about development. In that film, the tribe coming out of the forest was filmed on first contact and then again months later. The women talked about how much they appreciated flip-flops and didn’t want to go back to being barefoot in the rainforest. This is what I’m talking about. Who are we, as Westerners, to ask that others don’t have access (or choice to access) to the things that may improve their quality of life when our understanding of paradise is implied upon their “simplicity”… (not sure if that makes any sense) but this is what I’m processing in paradise today with my $2k laptop on an island in the Indian Ocean also known as Paradise.
Aside from the existential questions Bali has delivered, the people and the island are magical. We've had some trouble adjusting to the rainy season here, and our housing is a bit isolated from the town - but this isolation gives me the space to consider the truth of the place and all the places we're visiting. How are we contributing to this puzzle? What are the ethics of being a conscious traveler? That's the question I'm left with today.
Wayan Heri, our guide leads us into the temple
Julio and our gracious host Wayan
Downtown Ubud
The campuhan ridge walk
Christina being assaulted by insects on the walk home
