Bali on the Rebound
The ultimate tropical utopia for dreamers
By Victor Dabby
Dutch explorer Cornelius de Houtman and his crew were the first Europeans to set foot on the island of Bali in 1597. When it came time to leave, a number of de Houtman’s sailors chose to stay behind, entranced by Bali’s exotic culture (a mix of animism and Hinduism) and its easy ways (the king alone had 200 wives).Flash forward to today’s Bali: Many of those crew members would likely flee in horror from the tourist beach resort of Kuta, chased by a persistent army of hustlers offering to trim their nose and ear hairs, to give them massages (”cheap, very cheap”) or to sell them blowguns (”to shoot cats”).
Or, like the many other starry-eyed foreigners who followed them, they may escape inland to the tranquility of “authentic” Bali. Despite a long history of disasters — from earthquakes to bombings and the fungus-like growth of resorts — Bali remains the destination of choice for foreign dreamers searching for the ultimate tropical utopia.
They include surfers looking to catch the perfect wave, artists seeking inspiration in Bali’s long and rich history of painting and dancing, or just weary backpackers, ready to chill and lay down their heavy loads after long months of travel in Asia. Or they could be crooners like Bing Crosby on The Road to Bali with Bob Hope and Dorothy Lamour in tow.
From the 1960s on, this flood of foreigners seemed unstoppable. As global-brand outlets like McDonald’s (even Ronald McDonald hangs 10 on a surfboard on Kuta Beach) sprang up, alarm bells rang about creeping commercialism. Few paid attention, hypnotized by the flood of easy money and the prospect of endless wealth.
Then, came Oct. 12, 2002 — the day everything changed.
The sun sets over Kuta Beach as glorious shades of red and orange break out over the sparkling blue waters of the Indian Ocean. The bar is filled with young, well-heeled tourists and locals nursing exotically coloured drinks, laughing and talking to a soundtrack of soothing lounge music. No one seems even vaguely aware that this is the spot where a bloody terrorist bombing took place just five years ago.
It was on a Saturday night around midnight, a time when tourists flock to Kuta’s bustling commercial section for a cooling drink at one of the many noisy bars dotting JI Legian, the area’s main street. The first bomb exploded outside Paddy’s Bar, followed by a more powerful blast at the nearby Sari nightclub. When the dust settled, more than 200 people from 23 countries were found incinerated or blown to pieces, at least 300 others were injured.
Authorities blamed Islamic terrorists linked to al-Qaida and scores were arrested. Tourism plunged and foreigners fled the island. Bali’s much-vaunted “harmony” was shattered. Since then, Paddy’s Bar has been rebuilt, and the government has erected an impressive monument for victims of the bombing (two Canadians — Richard Gleason and Mervin Popadynec — have their names etched in stone there).
Then, three years later, just as the island was recovering, it happened again. On Oct. 1, 2005, three suicide bombers struck in Kuta and nearby Jimbaran, killing 20 people and injuring 129. The incident sent shivers of fear through Bali, proving that the October 2002 blasts were not a one-off and that terrorists were determined to destroy tourism.
The events served to deepen ethnic tensions on Bali, a mainly Hindu island in a sea of Islam (once Buddhist, Indonesia is now the world’s most populous Muslim country). “It’s the Muslims of (nearby) Java (who are responsible),” a Hindu taxi driver tells me bitterly. “They are jealous of us, see a lot of money here and want it. Business has been bad since the bombings. Life is hard, not like before.”
Though more visitors drawn by cheap package holidays are arriving this year, Bali’s tourist industry remains fragile. Australians, once the mainstay, “are staying away in droves,” Margaret, a Melbourne resident, tells me as she deletes yet another government alert from her inbox at an Internet caf in Kuta.
“Our government keeps warning whoever is in Bali to come home and anyone who’s thinking of coming here to stay away because terrorists are plotting more bombings,” she says. “This way, they can cover their backsides if something does happen.”
Penny Harvey, a Canadian, is more philosophical. The Welland, Ont., native, who married a Balinese man and settled down to manage Randy’s (which bills itself as an “authentic Canadian cafe”) in the resort town of Sanur, admits the recent past has not been kind. But she thinks the Balinese will emerge stronger because “they have a sense of identity that allows them to hold it together (despite adversity).”Even the bombings will have a positive effect, she says, because they “made people think about what kind of life they want and how to develop the island without destroying the things that make it unique.”
Ubud, Bali’s cultural capital, has “unique” written all over it. Legend has it that this inland town, two hours north of Kuta, was blessed by the Hindu gods who looked after the enlightened nobility that ruled it for centuries, leaving behind an impressive heritage of stone palaces and temples that are in use even today. In the 1930s, a flood of Western artists came here for inspiration.
Driving into town, you can see why as you approach the gleaming green rice paddies on terraces built alongside winding roads and jagged mountains. It’s a visual feast.
There is more visual feasting at Ubud’s three amazing public museums - Agung Rai, Puri Lukisan and Neka - that house extensive collections of photographs, paintings and sculptures by local and foreign artists. You can easily spend the better part of a week taking it all in and wandering around the private galleries that dot the town.
But the pice de rsistance is the dance show. On any night, you can go to one of several performances of Balinese dance. All are major productions that employ up to 30 dancers and a live orchestra playing traditional instruments. Especially dramatic are the “trance” dances that build up to a frenzy of chanting as bare-footed men shuffle through the red-hot remains of burning coconut husks.
Then, there are the venues. All the performances take place in the spectacular, age-old courtyards of palaces and temples spread throughout the town centre. The events are a treat for the eyes and ears. And the price, an average $5 a ticket, is the best deal in Bali.
“You can see why visitors who come to Ubud for a few days, end up staying much longer,” a California artist who visits every winter tells me. “Ubud is just that kind of place.”
But there’s much more to Bali than Kuta or Ubud. For a quiet beach scene, you can visit Lovina on the north shore and watch dolphins frolic in plain view. The coast is teeming with sea life and coral, a paradise for diving and snorkeling. Especially fascinating is Tulamben, where you can snorkel in the wreckage of the Liberty Glo, a U.S. cargo ship that sank here during the Second World War. It is now covered in coral, a rich nesting ground for thousands of exotic fish. It’s like plunging into the biggest aquarium in the world.
On the east coast, you can hang out at the fishing village of Padangbai, where you can rent a local jukung (boat) to go snorkeling off the deserted islands in the bay. Or you can hike for 15 minutes to the Blue Lagoon, for a day of lazing at a beach caf or swimming among exotic fish.Farther down the coast, you can hop a ferry to Nusa Lembongan, a hassle-free island with no cars or motorcycles, just two small villages that thrive on harvesting seaweed for carrageenan (an emulsifier used to thicken food, including ice cream and cheese). It is also home to some of the best surfing and snorkeling around, though the riptides and jagged coral make it a place where only strong swimmers and veteran surfers will venture.
Back on Kuta Beach, it is time for the daily spectacle: the most psychedelic sunset you’ll ever see. By evening, it seems that the whole town — thousands of people — is out on the beach. Many are sitting on the sand in lines, as if watching a live show as the sun sets to a rainbow of colours. Even the most jaded travellers are touched by the scene.
But mainly, it’s the locals who come here each day for the big event. It seems that they cannot get enough of this daily explosion of beauty. There are smiles all around as people linger to watch the blackening sky as the last traces of colour fade away. This, the greatest show on Earth, makes you realize just how exquisite Bali is.
And now you understand why some of de Houtman’s sailors stayed behind.
CanWest News Service
Source: http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/
Add comment October 22nd, 2007