What a Difference 24 Hours Can Make, Part 2

(a continuation of the previous post that was getting painfully long)

The guesthouse room was very nice. The mattress perfectly firm. A spacious tub with hot and cold water. A toilet behind beautiful carved doors. The hosts very friendly. The gardens gorgeous. And breakfast included in the $15 price, fresh fruit, pancakes, juice and toast. I debated whether to eat or shower first, whether to race out to find a travel agent and bookstore or brush and floss. What Bali offered that I’d not had before on this trip was choices. I could choose from haute cuisine, drinks one couldn’t even imagine, the whole spectrum of experiences for the mind and body (massage, yoga, cooking classes, explorations into Hinduism), and world class arts performances and crafts.

Soon enough, I was out on the street, wanting to gorge myself on all of this newfound abundance. But it was way too much, and not just because I had just spent nearly a week in Oecussi. Immediately, I was smacked in the face by Billabong and Dolce & Gabana (sp?) along with ethnic art places as far as the eye could see. Hawkers called out to me to visit their stores or ride on their motorcycles. Every shop had people calling out. Others had cute women posted on the street corners, announcing an evening show or luring people into their establishment. In short, everyone was pimping themselves out, and the tourists were just eating it up. Later in the evening, I overheard a conversation, a young woman glowing about her two months in Ubud. I’d be nauseous after two days.

The way that I’d best describe Ubud, and perhaps southern Bali in general is ‘hell on earth with yummy food and really cute places to stay.’ Think Indonesia meets Sausalito meets Vegas. I mentally flogged myself as I had my 6PM veggie pizza (from a wood fire oven, but of course) at the Bamboo Bar and then the 8:30 Cuban style veggie burger plate (with salsa dancing in the background) at Café Havana. Fact was that both places were quite chic, had good menus, good prices, good service, and I enjoyed them once I was inside. But they were 40 yards from one another and there were 4-5 other such places in between. If a place had ten percent of Ubud’s commercialism, and let some of its real self shine through, it would probably be really lovely, and I guess for some people a place like Ubud still is. Hell, people go there on their honeymoons. My friends Darcy and Lou were two of them and like to tell the story about how Lou came back from Bali with three assholes, after having arrived with only two. They claim that a nearly fatal infection came from bad water and improper ass-wiping but I think it was karma. You don’t go to a place like Bali on a honeymoon and get off scott-free.

But can you fault Bali for its own success? It’s got the highest standard of living in Indonesia, I’m told. And as long as the going is good, Balians can continue to be world-class artists and get paid for it. They can also work in tourism and the related service industry. But I didn’t see the happiness here that I saw in other parts of Indonesia. Ubud was fully in the rat race, and that breeds competition between neighbors, and in some cases desperation. I fear seeing some of the sadness in people’s eyes that I saw in Vegas’ workers. Can it be that far off? And if there’s another terrorist attack here like there was in Kuta several years back, this place will be fucked with a capital F. Tourist dollars are fickle, and danger doesn’t jive with Ubud’s laid-back vibe.

I’ll close by saying that I’m sure that there are wonderful places in Bali, and something for everyone. I shouldn’t totally damn a place where I spent less than 24 hours, but I certainly didn’t mind getting up at 3:30 this morning to catch an early flight out of town, and that’s a rarity for someone who loves his sleep as much as I. I won’t be there for the Thursday night salsa lessons, the Friday shadow puppet performance, or take in the $6, hour-long, full body massage. But somehow, I feel like wherever I am, whatever I do, it will be more real, more true, more sustainable. Or at least I hope.