As I mentioned in my last post, one of the reasons I’ve been kept fairly busy lately is because I’ve had friends visiting me here in Bali for the past few weeks. Included in those visits was one of my best friends from Miami and his parents. And while he already has a couple brothers, I know him well enough that he feels like a brother to me. We have different perspectives on life, and he’s always been good at getting me to see things from other perspectives.
His recent visit was nothing new.
By now, it’s no secret that I have what, on my better days would be considered a ‘distaste’ for southern Bali’s ever-increasing tourist industry. On my worse days, it would be better defined as ‘utter contempt’.
The biggest issue is that Bali has absolutely no infrastructure. It’s streets, plumbing, landfills, and power plants were never built to accommodate anything more than the villages that occupied the island 25-30 years ago. This means frequent power failures, sewage in the ocean, traffic jams, and an overall decrease in the quality of life.
Personally, I call Kuta, Bali (the main surf tourist center) ‘the ghetto’. I try to avoid even going down there unless I need surf supplies simply because, although it’s only about 5-8 km away from my home, it takes about 30-40 minutes to get there. And once there, you must deal with the constant assault by tour operators, massage ‘therapists’, and shop keepers — all vying for your money, one way or another.
It is, in a word, a mess.
As the years pass, this mess has expanded ever further beyond the borders of Kuta, Bali — and it now reaches through Legion, Seminyak, Canggu, and up through Ubud into the southern hills. And since there is no such thing as ‘city planning’ or ‘civil engineering’ in Indonesia — the result is one vast, unregulated, illogical mess of random shops, alleys, roads, and hotels.
As noted previously, this has always been a source of irritation for me, for a variety of reasons.
First and foremost is because, if you look closely, you can still see the remnants of Bali’s original beauty. There are still random temples and rice patties and roaming cows in the midst of new hotels and villas and shops and parking lots. This place really must have been an absolute paradise once upon a time — as recently as 20 years ago, from what I’ve been told.
The second reason is more pragmatic — there reaches a breaking point for unmitigated and unregulated expansion. Sure, you can build dozens of 2500 person hotels and villas up and down the beach, but if the roads can only accommodate 1000 people, then what’s the point? Ultimately, it just gets too frustrating to deal with.
But here’s where my mate comes back into play — even though he’s also lived in Asia for a while (and is used to this type of third world disorder), when I took him down to Kuta, he loved it. He loved the mess, the mayhem, the chaos.
Sure, it’s a mess now, but even though the concept of ‘logic’ is a rare commodity on Bali, it will eventually prevail — whether due to developers, politicians, or the tourist industry. They will build bigger streets, and power lines that actually work, and buildings that don’t collapse every 5 years.
Indeed, just yesterday — only one (1) day after my mate left — I noticed something:
They just completed a monstrously huge mall complex right on the beach in Legion. It sticks out like a sore thumb, simply because it’s well built, has underground parking, and would fit in at any major beach town in New South Wales, Queensland, or California. I also noticed another large shopping center being built where some older shops had just been demolished in Seminyak.
My friend was right. Sure, Southern Bali is a mess — but it’s got character. There is no other place I’ve been to — in Asia or elsewhere — that is quite like it. Yes, I complain now, and I mourn the loss of Bali’s innocent recent past. But I sense that will be nothing compared to what’s coming.
I’ve no doubt that, within only several more years, Bali will turn into every other tourist beach town in the West. And while the traffic may ease, and the electricity may work, and the fresh water may flow — something will be lost in the transition.
Because of that, I thank my friend for lending me his perspective. Probably for the first time since I moved here last October, I’m glad I’m living in Bali now. Just as I’m jealous of the blokes who rave about how pristine the island was back 20 years ago, I’m sure others will be jealous of my stories of Kuta 20 years from now, when I can tell them of the chaos — back when it wasn’t just another beach town.
