I've spent not quite 24 hours in South-East Asia now, and my head is full of a blur of images moving about unpredictably like the motorbikes, and the heat.
I'm in Kuta, Bali, which is just as grotesquely geared to western tourists as my little sister warned me it was. Since I was forewarned, I have luckily been able to take it in stride and just enjoy the pageant of it all, as I am heading to Ubud tomorrow, about which I have much higher expectations.
One thing that surprises me so far is the ubiquity of the Hindu temples, which are tucked away everywhere in unexpected places (much as shrines and temples are in Japan, except that nowhere I went in Japan was so full of shops clearly marketed at outsiders only, so that the contrast here is more jarring). And especially I am touched by the small offerings that are set out and left on the ground, everywhere, little folded leaf baskets holding flowers, incense, little cookies for the gods.
I'm staying in what feels palatial after the cramped quarters in Tokyo - the ensuite bathroom is literally bigger than the room I was sleeping in there, and the large room also has a balcony which overlooks a shrine in the hotel courtyard, and coconut palms, all for less than $20 a night. The luxury feels especially strange when contrasted with the crowded streets full of hawkers.
You can't walk down the street without being constantly questioned, offered massages, hair and nail treatments, daytrips, and especially rides on the back of motorbikes. "Yes? Transport?" is ringing in my ears. It's quite something to casually peek into a foodcourt area and galvanise about 40 restaurant workers to leap to their feet and thrust menus at you - miss? are you hungry? (Of course I was just in Japan, where peeking into a business also causes all the workers to yell "Irrasshaimase!" at you, but it feels different somehow).
I'm finding the hawkers hard to deal with, not because they are terribly persistent. Just smiling, saying no thanks, and moving on works fine. It's more that I find it hard to deal with the reality that we live in a global system that requires some people to spend all day smiling ingratiatingly (or much worse) at often-rude foreigners in hopes of getting by, while other people like me can wander from luxury to luxury. I would really hate having to hawk my wares like that and so being on the receiving end makes me vicariously cringe.
Of course, global inequality is there whether or not I am walking down a street in Bali. But I don't have to like it.
As for the vicarious cringing, I will probably get used to the sales techniques pretty quickly (I did notice that Indonesians wandering into the food court get the same treatment). There will be a lot more of it as I travel around. But hopefully not inured to the real issues...
Tomorrow, north to Ubud and a completely different Bali experience.
I'm in Kuta, Bali, which is just as grotesquely geared to western tourists as my little sister warned me it was. Since I was forewarned, I have luckily been able to take it in stride and just enjoy the pageant of it all, as I am heading to Ubud tomorrow, about which I have much higher expectations.
One thing that surprises me so far is the ubiquity of the Hindu temples, which are tucked away everywhere in unexpected places (much as shrines and temples are in Japan, except that nowhere I went in Japan was so full of shops clearly marketed at outsiders only, so that the contrast here is more jarring). And especially I am touched by the small offerings that are set out and left on the ground, everywhere, little folded leaf baskets holding flowers, incense, little cookies for the gods.
I'm staying in what feels palatial after the cramped quarters in Tokyo - the ensuite bathroom is literally bigger than the room I was sleeping in there, and the large room also has a balcony which overlooks a shrine in the hotel courtyard, and coconut palms, all for less than $20 a night. The luxury feels especially strange when contrasted with the crowded streets full of hawkers.
You can't walk down the street without being constantly questioned, offered massages, hair and nail treatments, daytrips, and especially rides on the back of motorbikes. "Yes? Transport?" is ringing in my ears. It's quite something to casually peek into a foodcourt area and galvanise about 40 restaurant workers to leap to their feet and thrust menus at you - miss? are you hungry? (Of course I was just in Japan, where peeking into a business also causes all the workers to yell "Irrasshaimase!" at you, but it feels different somehow).
I'm finding the hawkers hard to deal with, not because they are terribly persistent. Just smiling, saying no thanks, and moving on works fine. It's more that I find it hard to deal with the reality that we live in a global system that requires some people to spend all day smiling ingratiatingly (or much worse) at often-rude foreigners in hopes of getting by, while other people like me can wander from luxury to luxury. I would really hate having to hawk my wares like that and so being on the receiving end makes me vicariously cringe.
Of course, global inequality is there whether or not I am walking down a street in Bali. But I don't have to like it.
As for the vicarious cringing, I will probably get used to the sales techniques pretty quickly (I did notice that Indonesians wandering into the food court get the same treatment). There will be a lot more of it as I travel around. But hopefully not inured to the real issues...
Tomorrow, north to Ubud and a completely different Bali experience.
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