Seminyak balcony, sunset, fish & chips

Di and Garry who have been volunteers in Bali for over two years have a wealth of cross cultural tales. Given the romantic image of the European journeyman artist who goes ‘native’, marries a Balinese princess, and settles down to a life of bliss and mango salad, it is difficult to imagine the reverse. Where a Balinese marries an Ozzy and settles down happily in Perth or Darwin. Loneliness, cultural difference? Not so. Di gives examples of the Indonesians who are delighted to find that a driver’s license is obtained by skill and merit rather than by bribery. Surprised to find that there are actually rules for behaviour on the road and elsewhere. And, overjoyed that people actually obey them. Di has a list of about forty ways to know that you have been living too long in Indonesia. These are some of the more choice:

• When it is exciting to see if you can get on the lift before anyone else gets off.
• You no longer wonder how someone earning $200 a month can drive a Mercedes.
• You have considered buying a motorcycle for the next family car.
• You accept that the waiter exactly repeats your order and the cook makes something completely different.
• Due to selective memory you honestly believe you could return to the western world.
• You believe a limp wrist motion creates a force field that repels oncoming traffic.
• You can walk into the lobby of a five star hotel, unshaven, in jogging shorts, a ratty T-shirt and flip flops and don’t get an awkward glance from the management.
• You carry tissues in your pocket for ‘emergency stops’.

At the Kite fest in South Sanur last weekend, the crowd was of MCG grand final magnitude, but not a public toilet anywhere. The locals are comfortable doing what they have to do where they have to do it. Me? Cultural difference. As for the kites, not much wind, so there was a bit of excitement trying to keep the contraptions aloft. Many of the teams ran too far out among the wet sandbanks trying to delay the inevitable. Not exactly lost at sea, but some did get wet. The other kite in the movie clip is called a ‘Tali’ meaning Tail kite.

Lots of hands-on touchy feely stuff, like massage, manicure, pedicure and fish powered foot cleaning.

On Bali there is only one attempt at a freeway. This is called the Bypass Road. Marked as two lanes each way, but actually as many as four, depending on the width of the vehicles. At times the giddying speed of 70 km/h can be achieved. Left the ring road at the big roundabout near Kuta one night to go through the dreaded Kuta to meet friends in Legian for a meal. Development in Kuta has grown & grown & grown, but the roads haven’t, so the gridlock increases month by month. Lost in the dark, with no street signs & no moon for direction. If you ask a local, ‘Is this the way to Legian?’ They say ‘yes’. But it probably isn’t. Not malicious, just trying to be helpful. Our saviour was a lurching, Bintang beer T-shirt wearing Ozzy who said ‘Legian? Can’t see ya map maaate, but go down that street as far as you can then turn right, first left, then right, left again and your there’. He fell down and said no more, but he was correct. Getting home after the lovely dinner was worse, every half hour we came across a big green sign, charted a new course, hoping for another big green sign. Home in the early hours.

By contrast, the ‘Gubenors house’, sic. sits among the foreign embassies in an orderly part of town. The Australian Consul General’s residence has been particularly security conscious since the bombings, (last year, not even allowed to take mobile phones inside). This week there was an ozzy barbeque celebration at the consulate, to welcome most of the two hundred local students who have been awarded Australian government scholarships to study in various Australian universities. This event marked the end of their crash English course, which they have to master before going to Oz. Groups of students were expected to entertain the guests and absorb Australian culcha.

Some things don’t change across culture chasms. Towns the world over have their big icon. Can’t quite pin it down, but there seems to be a sort of common thread. Sanur beach has its ‘Big Prawn’.

the big prawn

Another common factor across cultures is religion. Having just seen Geelong romp home in the last quarter of the grand final, AFL football appears to be the dominant religion in Victoria in terms of weekly ritual, unquestioning faith, and fortunes and real estate amassed by the priests. In Bali the Hindu faith is strong, attracting support from most of the local community, financially and in observance. Most people have their own shrine or temple, humble or grand according to means. Leaders of the kite flying teams will have usually spent time quietly at the family shrine before setting out for a day of action. Decoration of the more significant temples involves carving in stone and wood. And this practice spills over into the domestic scene. There are streets lined with stone-carving and wood-carving workshops.

Leaping over the culture gap are a local Indo cover band who three times a week put on green T-shirts, include a fiddle and flute in their line up to play Irish folk at the Wicked Parrot, calling themselves the Irish Leprechauns. Coming to the conclusion that things are the same the world over, but hearing Carrickfergus sung with a Bali accent makes me smile, Sweetiepie says please wear earphones when you are editing that.