I first went to Bali in 2003, my sister had just taken a job out there. The only things I really knew about Bali, were the things I had seen on the news a few months prior to flying out there;
WARNING DISTURBING IMAGES:
I was a little bit reticent to go. But I was 22 years old and in essence, had nothing left to lose. So I went.
Bali back then was much more exclusive. Especially so soon after the bombing. The locals were still in the early recoil phase of PTSD, and were on their best behaviour, in fact - the best I have ever seen them. More about that later.
I stayed the first few days in Sanur, down the South East stretch of coast. It was peaceful. The people were beautiful, the place was tidy, and at this point, the prices were accessible and as I was carrying £GBP I could live like a king for very little cost.
I was healing at last. (Long story, for another blog).
I headed up to Ubud, from what I can remember today, it was a tranquil journey. The roads were not that busy, there were substantially more bikes than I am used to seeing. When we arrived the streets were clean, I really loved how the town of Ubud was being constantly swallowed back by the jungle. Even the temples dedicated to their deities were subject to the encroaching tundra.
Animals, insects and plants are everywhere, it is truly awesome. You cannot help but feel both better and worse in Bali. It is a truly leveling place. The effect is humbling.
Nature shows you the most amazing things, things, growing up in suburban West civilization denies you.
Round every corner, the Balinese had crafted some natural substance, into some demonstration of the highest form of artisan control.
Their ability to take the ordinary, (like a gateway into a housing compound) and make it extra-ordinary made me re-think a lot of my lazy ways.
I had a great time, there were maybe thirty or fourty ex-pats around in Ubud. I would go out at night, find a secret bar or two. Drink and talk with people from all over the world. It was a great way to grow up as a young adult. I am not suggesting for one minute that I was the first to do this btw.
The Balinese builders are so highly skilled, they can turn their hands to anything, traditional or modern, or blending both.
My sister was running an exclusive Spa, at which in the early days, I got to stay at.
The place was like some peoples idea of heaven. I made the most of the experiences I had there. I explored the residences, checked with my sister that no-one was in there and utilised the secret passaages, butler entrances and the traditional Japanese, 'mistresses entrance' (not a euphemism!) that was built into all of the Architects work. (Yew Kuan). It was a truly amazing place, the height of modernity, tranquility and decadence.
Ancient modernity...
Old ways...
In 2003, outside the 5 star, deluxe spa, the dichotomy struck me. How the place was stuck in the past, so many things, the traditions, the culture, the methods employed to entertain, to build and to survive were the same as they had been for the best part of a thousand years. I was hypnotized by the Balinese and by the calm I found there.
Even the most poverty struck families smiled and seemed to enjoy their life. They seemed grateful. I decided there and then - I would always be grateful, no matter what. And since then, I have been, no matter the ebb and flows of success and failure in my life.
I ran out £ after about 8 months, it got expensive having to fly to Singapore or Malaysia every month to get a visa sorted. Plus my drinking was an expensive habit, purely because drinking for 12 hours and then the subsequent feast that ensues after, soon mounts up! No matter how cheap it is where you are!!
I headed back to the UK .... FFWD - 2005
I returned to Bali, this time with my Brother, it was great for us to be there staying with my Sister. She had got married and had a child and was expecting another. It was this time I met my future wife.
Changes....
I noticed that there were more people around, there was also an issue with rubbish. The sweeping that happens each morning still happened, but whereas I previously had gone to the Warung and bought food wrapped in a banana leaf, it now came in a little 'convenient' plastic bag. There were more cars on the roads, and more motor bikes and more police around.
My sisters work had added some buildings so i went up to take a look around.
Wow, it was more decadent, more removed from the roads I had driven to get there and increasingly bringing a different kind of clientele. I was no longer allowed to stay there. Movie stars, the highest global political figures, the highest members of the ruling class were now frequenting the place. Lists were made for body guards to memorise, if you were not on the list, you risked being shot. I stayed at my sisters house. No more sneaking around!
My Balinese friends had started to settle down, which saved me in a way, no more 6pm - 6am drinking. Even the bars had closed that used to be the favourites, and like most transient fads the hippy ex-pats I had known had all moved on too.
A new bunch of travelers were beginning to arrive in Ubud. I believe what I was witnessing then, was the birth of the 'Hipster'.
Taking a gap year or having just finished University, they grew beards, obtained beads to highlight their down to earth nature, there weren't many, and most were lovely. I learned to stop judging at this point and made some great friends.
I met my wife. She was the Pilates teacher at the Spa my sister was running.
Her contract ended, she returned to the UK. Jungle fever can really get to you. The lack of reliable electricity and water can really get to you. Shortly after she left, I realised I was in love her and followed her back to London. My Brother stayed in Bali.
FFWD - 2014
2 kids later, a move to the Isle of Wight and a gut full of a job that I hated, it was time for a 6 month sabbatical with the aim to finding a job and staying Bali.
This was the first morning of our arrival. I took my motorbike and camera and went to reconnect with the Bali I remembered. I hadn't slept well on the 24hour journey over so I slept in the car on the way up from the airport.
I drove into town after I had been out in the jungle.
Wow, 6:30am busy already, the traffic!!!!!
The trash, the people. What the hell had gone on? Houses, shops, villas everywhere, Villas where the rice padis had been.
Animals grazing in fields of failing grass, dust and trash, what was once a lush and verdant field.
I was crushed. It had gone wrong, so wrong, but how? Where did it go so wrong? And when?
I found out that the Balinese generation around my age didn't want to farm anymore. The beauty that I had once admired became too desirable to foreigners, and the elder Balinese watched as their sons and daughters sold off land to investors to build villas, more bule (foreigners) came, more restaurants, more shops, higher prices, more rubbish, more traffic. So on.
I left after 6 months with my wife and children. We had rented a beautiful little villa in the village outside of Ubud, more building had started in the fields where myself and my wife had begun our relationship. We used to walk through those fields to see the fire flies in the late evening. I was mortified.
It had happened in 9 years. Such a quick transformation. And I could see where it was all going, the western greed bug had bitten, the speed at which the Balinese had gone from agricultural and artisan geniuses to real estate tycoons could only end badly, and this was only just getting started...
Part 2 - coming soon..