First Impressions Last

©2011 Rudolf Helder

What have I learned these first few days in Bali? First, the people are just wonderful, which I knew and which has drawn me to this island for a long time. They smile at every opportunity and I'm smiling back. Almost forgot how to, what a shame.
What I haven't forgotten after nearly twenty years is the language,and words and expressions are flowing back into my consciousness surprisingly effortlessly, as if I have been rehearsing them in my dreams. I'm very happy about that because knowing a language is the key to understanding everything. Not that I pretend that whatever few words I know are going to unlock the mystery that Bali is, but this afternoon I was joking with two waitresses in a small restaurant in the middle of the rice fields and one of them told the other that I was "lucu," or funny, and the fact that I picked that up gave a roundness to the afternoon, a sense that, like Monkey Kong, I had completed a level and maybe I can move one up. We'll see.
But, I'm noticing something that tourism has brought along: the people are less interested in their work. While before dedication went into everything they did, a more lackluster attitude has taken over. Yesterday I had to straighten a painting in the restaurant where I had lunch, which the waitress, who had been working there for five years, failed to notice hung lopsided. Seriously lopsided, or I wouldn't have bothered. There are other indications. In my bungalow there was no soap, no drinking water, and no mosquito coils present. At another restaurant table cloths were dirty and the forks bent. Yet, Bali is no longer cheap and compared to my previous stays prices have at least quadrupled. There's money being made, but at the cost of attention to detail. We all know, that's the beginning of the end.
Another thing I'm finding out is that people don't advance in position. For example, Arsana, who recognized me after twenty years when I returned to his place of work, is still doing the same. His boss should have made him manager a long time ago. He will die as a driver, groundskeeper, guest confidant, and repairman, all tasks younger men could be doing. Does he belong to a lower caste? Could that be the reason? I'll find out.
With the continuously expanding numbers of tourists Ubud's infrastructure is cracking at the seams. Literally. It's easy to imagine incapable administrators behind the potholes in the roads and sidewalks, both to be maneuvered with utmost attention. Why some of that tourist income is not being used to make improvements is a question even a child could come up with.
In a way I'm glad to see through the gloss quickly so as not to be romantically naive with Bali, as I probably was when I arrived in Hawaii 23 years ago. So, what am I going to do here one might ask, if I'm not going to be a tourist and can't stay unless I marry a local or commit a serious crime?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in a soothing breeze that carries hints of hibiscus, plumeria, and coconut. Why, I've stood at the same crossroads before, inhaling the same intoxicating mix of perfumes...