From a cultural Desert to Cultural Carnival

It took 7 months of dreaming but finally I made it back to Asia . Having discarded the rest of my round the world ticket; armed with a one way ticket to Bali, my passport and backpack, I was ready to start learning again. Australia had not only stripped my bank account, it had sapped my energy and inspiration for travel. The glitzy modern buildings and pristine streets failed to tell the stories of it's cultural heritage; of the fractured identities of the people who walked this land long before concrete and rampant agriculture stamped it's mark. This is not the right place for me to start "sociologising" about that massive gulf that exists between the ideals and prosperity of a booming nation, and the harsh realitly of life in the outback for Australia's indigenous population. But I can't hide my discontent for a country where the banal mainstream culture overwhelmed it's "real history". And, for all the ozzies reading this, believe me, if I was a tourist in my own country I would have more then enough criticism for our disgusting racial relations and the benality of our modern culture, so please don't take it personally!




Anyway.....On to a place where traditional cultural heritage is celebrated almost continually. Where a vast rainbow of colour, and an orchestra of sounds bombard all of your senses. This is Bali, the land of smiles, the land where beauty is embraced and celebrated over every crevice of her surface.









If it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have believed it myself. Stepping through customs and into the arrival gate, POW, it slapped me right in the face, knocking me off balance: Culture Shock. I didn't think this was possible after already speeding 3 months in Asia, but I guess that was part of the problem. "Holidaying" in Australia and NZ for too long had made me an over-confident and arrogant traveler, and I didn't in any way prepare myself for the onslaught.

"Taxi, Taxi",
"Where you going miss",
"Transport, Transport",
"How much you wanna pay?"

"I don't know, what the hell is this currency anyway? 8,700 to the dollar, too many 0's I'm confused, it's too hot, ahhhh, where the airport bus, what do you mean there's no tourist info! I need two minutes to think, please stop shouting at me!"

Ok, call Turbo, get coins for payphone.....Water, I need water, 4000Rp, was that a rip-off? Shit, how does the payphone work?
Ok, no payphone, I'll take a taxi half way then change to the local bus and save half the money. Why is it that after 7 months of paying exorbitant western prices, the second I land in a place where everything is cheap I start cutting corners?

Within my first hour, I had learned a new concept: Bali time. As I sat on a Bemo (local bus) for over an hour waiting for enough people to warrant the journey, I finally gave up and moved to the busy street to wait for another hour for a bus going in my direction. Finally I found one and after paying 10x the local rate (by then I would have paid 20x), we slowly trundled up the road picking up and dropping off what felt like every other person in Bali.

The road to Ubud was literally lined with carving shops making and selling every imaginable item out of wood, many of which will eventually make it's way to our bedrooms and living rooms. Ubud is nestled amongst stunning rice terraces which mould themselves around the landscape, illustrating the contours of the hills. Everywhere you look you see beautiful things from huge grand stone carving in the middle of round-abouts, to stunning houses and temples all with thatched roofs. Women walk around the streets carrying great big trays filled with fresh flowers and incense which they use to make offerings to the gods. Everywhere you go beautiful white, yellow and bright red flowers litter the pavements, house entrances, car windscreens, shrines and anything else that needs blessing!

After finally contacting Turbo, a friend I met in Chiang Mai 9 months ago; the sight of his gentle face and blindingly bright clothes instantly lifted my spirits. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the depths of the bumbling mess I had made out of my first 3 hours back in Asia... Well now you know! Fortunately the culture shock evaporated almost as fast as it appeared and I was once again awed by Asia's quirky beauty.

My visit to Bali came at the perfect time in my life and as it happens also my Dad's. After one e mail from me protesting that he should dump his holiday plans in Scotland and come to Bali, he booked his ticket and was by my side in under a week. Talk about spontaneity, it was so wonderful to see him after almost a year. As I was contemplating my dream of returning to Cambodia to work with victims of human trafficking, I found myself surrounded by people all doing amazing work to help others. On the first day that my Dad arrived from England, Robyn from Australia took us to an orphanage that she visits regularly.On the way Robyn bought huge sacks of rice, noodles, fruit and other things needed by the children and also a whole selection of musical instruments for Dad's "percussion workshop". I couldn't help but be moved by the generosity and compassion that she showed these children who had obviously captured a little piece of her heart. Most of the children here are "economic orphans" which essencially means they do have a family but for economic reasons they cannot live at home. Many however, have no family at all. It comes as a surprise to many tourists that such poverty exists in Bali, but much of it is hidden poverty. I couldn't help but wonder what the future would hold for these children but for the 3 hours we spent making the most ridiculous racket with the instruments, their smiles and laughter melted our hearts and warmed our day. Who said charity was selfless?!

Since the bombings in Kuta, tourism in Bali dropped by around 90%. For a country who's economy is driven by tourism, this has had catastrophic effect on the local population. It's both shocking and depressing riding around Ubud in the evening and seeing all the restaurants empty bar one table that the bored looking staff occupy. However, I think they are having a pretty good season now by all accounts.

One morning in May, the earth creaked, shuddered and groaned waking up Java's Jogjakarta region to the shock of their lives.Before the aid even reached the area, pictures of the mass destruction caused by the earths latest protest in Java filled our livingrooms and just as rapidly disappeared from our screens and conscience. As the world moved to the next disaster, the plight of the 5000 killed and hundreds of thousands injured and displaced gripped Turbo too tightly and his only release was to take the short flight to his neighboring island and see what he could do. Just a few days after the quake, Turbo rocks up to a village where no aid other had reached, to be confronted by mass panic as people rushed around trying to make sense of the unrecognisable world that now surrounded them. It takes a seriously courageous and equally stupid foreigner to arrive in a rural village in a state of absolute carnage and roll his sleeves up and get working. In a month Turbo became a disater relief expert, project manager, event's coordinator, child entertainer, psychotherapist, fundraiser, accounts manager, population statistician and an all round celebrity. I cannot do this story justice, but please read the amazing blog written by one of his local volunteers about what happened when a Japanese Samari showed up in town!

http://artgralife.blogs.friendster.com

I don't think Turbo really has any comprehension of the enormity of what he did for these people who lost everything. All I can do is stand back in awe and wonder what the world would be like if everyone had the courage and vision to look outside of their little bubbles and realise the world needs them.

As I sat around the table in Flava lounge surrounded by all my new friends and my ever supporting and loving father, I felt like a battery that had just been re-charged. The lessons I had learnt and the strength I had received over the last month had filled me with the happy/nervous feeling I always get at the start of a new adventure. Bali had changed me and there was no going back, I knew where I was going and why I was going....

To the magnificent Kingdom of Cambodia........