(October 2009 issue Maxx-m, Jakarta)

Who is this jolly green giant of a man who has romanced Bali for nearly twenty years and is now falling in love again, this time with India where he had earlier spent many years hitch hiking across in the days of hippie hype, dharma bums and chillums (apologies to Jack Kerouac)?

John Pettigrew’s pedigree is unknown to many of his friends and clients and it was by accident that he let it slip the other day while we were nursing tipples and watching the sun set behind palm trees at his home in Nyuh Kuning, Ubud, Bali.

“My grandfather Professor Bell Pettigrew was a pioneer of the theory of flight and authored/illustrated many books on the subject (before the Wright Brothers). Today there is a museum dedicated to his memory at St. Andrew’s University, Scotland. The other ancestor of mine, Henry Bell, invented the first steam ship called The Comet. I wish we could do a book together on my family; I have all the original manuscripts of my ancestors’ works. What do you think?” he asked me.

The evening slide into night as the two men, one Indian and one Irish spoke passionately about preservation of cultures, languages and the environment.

Two days later we met over breakfast with his wife Anindra Novitsari and their petite six year old daughter, Nikita, to talk about his life and work. After the mandatory photo session which was gate crashed by a bevy of Bali street dogs that have adopted the family, we talked the talk.

John built the house in which we were sitting with his own hands. In the first five years there was no electricity and the toilet was a hole in the ground. Transportation then was by bicycle. His days traversing India had taught him how to survive the elements.

This green fingered Irishman’s completed works (landscape designing) as well as ongoing projects reads like a who’s who of Bali, India etc.:

Four Seasons Resort (Ubud/Jimbaran/Maldives/Singapore/Jakarta), Begawan Giri Estate (Ubud), Bulgari Resort (Bali), Bali Reptile Park (Singapadu), The Huguenot Cemetery (Ireland), Napa Valley Estate (California), Jose Grace Estate (California), Glenair Estate (Ireland), Infosys (Bangalore, India), Kabinkad Estate (Coorg, India), Ashtamudi Lake Resort (Kerala, India), Janice Girardi/John Hardy/Chris Gentry/Mark & Josie Mak/Ian Batey (Bali) are just some of the examples.

“What feeds your insatiable urge to consistently create, mould, sculptor and reenergize the environs of a given area?” I asked.

“My father, Stanley, is a well known landscape (oil) painter. In fact his work has often been auctioned at Christies. And my mother, Vera, is an author of children’s’ books. As members of the ISPCA both my parents have shared with me their intrinsic love for Nature, the outdoors and respect for all living things. I remember our home in Ireland was a shelter for stray/abused cats, dogs and donkeys. My wife and my daughter share this passion too.

My philosophy is to design the landscape of a proposed site by using as much indigenous plants so that the garden is not divorced from its surroundings. Water in the form of pools and streams is incorporated to sculptor the garden into a living, breathing entity that is fundamental to the aesthetics of Nature,” he replied.

“And your family, where do they fit in in the scheme of things?”

“John”, interjected Anindra “is a family man. Although he travels frequently to India he rushes home as soon as work is over. I first met him while working in Sales and Marketing at Begawan Giri (Como Shambala). He was the landscape designer. We feel in love but I was not too sure whether he would be a suitable husband until I met his parents in Ireland. Vera (his mother) narrated the story of John’s return to Ireland in socks after a long sojourn hiking across Europe. Apparently, he didn’t have sufficient funds to buy a much needed pair of shoes and Christmas presents for his folks. So he bought the presents and returned home wearing only socks in mid-winter. This changed my mind and I married him. But I still cannot get over the way the Irish drink (liquor). Aduh, I have never seen so much drinking on any given night. What is surprising is that everyone gets up next morning sober and are off to work as if nothing has happened. Hahahaha…”

“And you dear Nikita what do you want to do when you grow up”.

“I want to be an architect and build my own house. Also I want to have a big place to keep all animals that are hurt. To give them medicine to make them better. And to feed all those which are hungry,” said Nikita hugging her three legged Bali street dog.

“So what food do you like?”

“Soto Ayam (traditional Javanese chicken soup) and Irish apple crumble. They are so yummy,” replied the little girl.

“How do you get on with your mother in law, John?” I asked hesitantly.

“Hahahaha…when Nikita was born we had our differences on how to handle the newest member of the family. It’s the same in all cultures, there’s always a bit of sparring with the mother in law but then things settle down to a tentative truce.”

“Anindra, you and your family have been living for a long time in Bali…will this be your permanent home now?” I asked.

“No, we have been thinking of setting up another home, in India and probably Australia too. The fact is that 80% of John’s work is in India therefore it makes sense to check out these options. But Bali will always be an important part of our lives.”

“John, what are your future plans?”

“My dream is to get back to my painting. Many years ago I held exhibitions of my work in Ireland and Scotland. The other idea I have is to form a loose knit association with architects to design and build holistic centers that truly adhere to the natural elements. Presently, holistic centers in existence are not accurately harmonized with the environment i.e. architecture, building materials, landscaping, recycling, solar or wind power etc. But most importantly I want to spend quality time with the family. After all isn’t that why I am living – to make this world just a little bit cleaner, greener and wholesome?” he replied

I leave you now dear readers with this small note:

This morning, September 19, 2009, an earthquake of the magnitude of 6.4 on the Richter scale hit Bali. No apparent damage has yet been reported. May be this is a wakeup call from Nature reminding us as to who is really in charge of this beautiful blue planet. Fortunately we have people like John Pettigrew in our midst who can help us in understanding the importance of preserving our environment by not polluting it with non-bio degradable waste. Ultimately it is our choice whether we want to make this planet a garbage dump or a tranquil paradise for our children.

So what shall it be folks?

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om

The night is still as the candle flame stands upright licking the air. A symphony of clicking crickets rises from the river bank. Darkness slowly creeps forward as the candle burns itself out to Dylan’s serenade…tonight I will be staying here with you.

An unfulfilled existence sits silently contemplating the emptiness while recounting the fading beats within. Should have, shouldn’t have, if, buts…ad nausea. The flood of years trickles down to this, a night out to come up with another plan to outwit the usurper Fate that is invariably lurking in the crevices of a fractured life. It is going to be an excruciating wait for an answer, if ever one comes along.

In the darkness he walks towards the all encompassing light of instant gratification to take cover in the thick overgrowth of humanity, to camouflage his solitary confinement amidst the chameleons.  Haunting rhythms of the spirits echo from speakers seducing the listeners with the lyrics and enticing them to partake of a revelry that ridicules common sense.

No one moves except the waiters expectantly waiting for a raised hand to satiate. In the corner he leans against the wall, hat covering his face, a straw barrier, a vain attempt to keep aloof from the goings-on and yet to be an active spectator.

A warm hand, kiss on the cheek from a perfumed lady awakens the inner self and the hint of companionship for the night. They speak with their eyes, bodies touching as the music subsides to loud chatter. Then syllables are exchanged which slowly merge into a torrent. He suggests they leave the restaurant and walk a short distance away to a quiet warung to continue the verbal intercourse.

In minutes they are sitting opposite each other on uncomfortable wooden chairs looking around awkwardly for suddenly they are confronted with each other without the static emanating from the pulsating crowd.

After the drinks arrive and are drunk, lips move slowly towards each other. Their fingers play a game of dumb charades. Her teeth are pearly white, hair raven black and her lithe body is draped with a flimsy floral dress. He is content for the moment knowingly fully well he will have to go back to his abode next to the river, maybe with her.

“My name is Rebecca. That’s all that you need to know about me. I want this night to remain as it is, so please don’t spoil it with esoteric and existential questions.”

“Okay”.

“You didn’t tell me your name”.

“Krishna”

“The Hindu God of Love”

“God no, it’s just a name”

A few drinks later tongues search out one another. Suggestions of moving to an even quieter place arise. So they leave together in his ramshackle car for the sanctuary of his room.

In the darkness of his shelter much is felt and heard and exchanged then silence. The only sound is that of a gnat buzzing the sweating bodies.

“Mosquito, quick spray the little f..k.r.”

When the deed is done they get up from the cold floor to lie on the bed, apart and on their backs gazing into the darkened ceiling.

“Where is the loo? Need to wash”

“No, please don’t”

“Why?”

“It’s like you need to cleanse yourself of me”

“I am ovulating. I think I will get pregnant, not that washing will help. Am wet, uncomfortable”

“So? You don’t want to be a mother?”

“No, I mean yes I want to be a mother.”

Silence continuing silence, except for the contents of the cistern emptying into the bowl. She returns to the bed and nestles in his arms; her hands cold from washing, rub his stomach.

He lies still contemplating the sick feeling. The chance of possibly being on the wrong side of karma is evident in his breathing. But she remains inert, her hands have stopped moving, she has fallen asleep.

The softness of the porcelain body next to him, the perfumed long hair and her q….b resting on his thigh are an aphrodisiac. He moves over her, entering while she spreads her hands and legs apart giving herself completely to him with all the trust a stranger can muster. Guilt fades into the bed sheet with another exchange of selves. She rolls him over and lies atop giggling, suddenly awake and energized.

“Have you ever loved anyone?”

“You said not to ask you esoteric questions so why should I answer one of yours?”

“Just asked, sorry”

“No I have never been in love, only lust, passion, possession and infatuation”

“Poor soul. You are scared, yes but why?”

“I am not scared just wary of women I have met as they have usually sucked my energy and departed after having drained the last ounce of me, my spirit. It has often taken months to rejuvenate my soul. Do you know what I am saying?”

“No. Never mind now let’s eat something. Is there anything in the fridge?”

He gets out of bed tripping over the clothes on the floor. She laughs while holding him from falling.

She cuts the cheese. He pours the wine and takes out a packet of biscuits. And when he sits down she sits on his lap, her soft naked body comforting. She eats and drinks and feeds him with a tenderness he has forgotten. Then smelling of cheese and wine with crumbs of biscuit on their lips, they meet once more on the strewn clothes.

Sleep blankets the passion.

Morning awakes with the sound of prayers from across the river. She gets up hurriedly wears her clothes and leaves. Not kissing him. Not saying goodbye. Just a furtive glance at the man she shared the night with.

A few days later he sees her dining with a male companion at a restaurant where he goes for a quiet dinner of a Cuban and margarita.

When the couple finish their dinner and are walking out she looks back waves then gets into a car which speeds away.

A waiter observing him remarks nonchalantly.

“Forget, she married, that’s her husband, he arrived today from London”.

Krishna smiles and lights the Romeo & Juliet for he understands now that it is as always, a momentary lapse of concentration.

But today is another night.

My name is Mark Ulyseas aka marculyseas. I am a writer, poet as well as the Editor of Voices Today Magazine (www.voicestoday.net). All material and photographs are my exclusive copyright and anyone uploading this material must send me a message or clearly state my name and blog address prominently above the article that has been uploaded. Failure to do so will attract criminal charges for copyright infringement.

It has come to my notice that a number of blogs have been uploading my material without adding my name and blog address, thereby passing it off as their own work.

So please be warned that if this continues all these offending blogs will face criminal prosecution and the Administrators will be notified to cancel or block such offending blogs.

Thank You

The rain, incessant and irritating
Wetting him to the soul
Monday, funny Monday
Began and ended
Like a rag wet with petrol
But never lit

It could have been
Another day in eternity
But something stirred
Beneath the eyelids

Ask the lonely, pleaded the four tops
They know the hurt and pain
The pain of being
In the likeness of a rag
Drenched with petrol
On the verge of igniting

But the rain, the rain
Held everything in its grasp
Lock jawed onto reality

Nothing could be released
Not his soul, not his mind and not his love
A beautiful ethereal creature
Like a butterfly caught in the rain

Ubud  21.09.2009

(Apologies to Bob Dylan and all who claimed they knew and loved me)

It’s time to wander into the dark waters
To embrace the Universe once more
And leave the memories behind
In the haze of relinquished dreams

Family, friends and lovers may grieve
For a soul they imagined belonged to them
Epitaphs of emptiness will swell the airways
Till the rains come and wash away the truth

The depths of despair keep him comforted
As he travels the highway to another time
Another world, another lifetime
Of growing once more in the warmth of a womb
And passing through the stargate

“I was born in Spring
When my mother lay dying
From a gash in her throat
Fleeing gunshots
Life was ending…just as it had begun”

Many expats in Bali exist in the turbid waters of passion, fading dreams and a desperation that converges into a daily run to catch sanity. Keeping a lid on rising adrenaline that threatens to wreak havoc on frail hearts and snap frayed nerves is a challenge to these ‘outsiders’ who nest on the Isle. The viscosity of life on the Isle ensnares many in a pantomime world which mocks everything that these unfortunate souls attempt in an effort to surmount the odds. When the urge becomes the purge, they are forced to reach back into the past to seek an answer to the circle of life. Often, as a form of escapism, they take shelter in their incestuous group of friends, drink, smokes and a socialization that borders on surrealism. Some however encounter the spirits of the land that revives their lust for life.

The following narrative is about how the writer of this column faced a benign unseen force and came away feeling cleansed, blessed and comforted by the experience.

A short while ago I happened to attend a Full Moon religious ceremony at the family temple of a friend of mine, Tjokorda Raka Kerthyasa (Pak Tjok) of the Ubud Royal Family. It is situated a stone’s throw from the Tjampuhan River. On such occasions it is imperative that one honors the hosts and their culture by attending the ‘function’ in Balinese dress. Waddling down the winding path to the river (as I had tied my sarong a bit too tight) I eagerly looked forward to the sumptuous meal that would evidently follow the religious ceremony.

According to tradition a cock fight is staged prior to commencement of rituals. The cackling of poultry and the shouts of onlookers followed the three fights that were staged. It was entertaining as well as alarming as each fight ended in the vanquished dying on the grassy knoll. But I had seen such gladiatorial displays before in villages in India and therefore understood why this was an essential ingredient of the prevalent culture.

The ceremony itself took no more than twenty minutes.

The temple, which nestles on the side of a rock face near the river bank, has within its hallowed grounds a sacred spring. The water from this spring is said to have curative powers so villagers from far and wide often arrive to drink it. It is also the spring from which water is taken for all royal cremations.

Tjok De, the elder son of my friend, gave me a small white bowl of water taken directly from the spring. The cool sweet taste was refreshing.

After attending the ceremony and tucking into the smoked duck, chicken satay and other goodies I sat under an imposing Kadamba tree to chat with the younger son of Pak Tjok, Tjok Gus. He told me about a cave near the Ayung River that has a spring emanating from it. It is quite large and runs deep into the hill and there is sufficient standing room so one can walk upright into the cave. The water at its base is waist high (for the average Asian). It is said that if one enters it with an unclean heart or with bad energy, the person will see a large snake. Tjok Gus invited me to join him and his brother on a trip to the cave.

So the following day, along with Lisa Taylor a friend from London, we accompanied the two brothers and their friend Kacer from Taro village. The short drive ended with the beginning of a long steep walk down the hill side to the cave overlooking the Ayung River. On the way we were met by a pretty Balinese damsel, Made, decked up in her traditional attire holding the mandatory offerings of flowers and incense.

Lisa, an asthmatic was hesitant at first to walk down the path afraid she would never be able to make the return journey up the steep incline without her inhaler. Smiles, laughter and cajoling did the trick and Lisa was off with great enthusiasm. I think the stunning view of the manicured rice fields below, the sight of the meandering Ayung River and the sensual sway of the coconut trees gave her a feeling of oneness with nature. It was a soothing balm for she glowed with anticipation at the unfolding adventure into the great unknown.

We arrived at the cave, which was exactly as Tjok Gus had described it complete with the overhanging vegetation, moss and ferns. The shrubbery was a vibrant green and the silence was broken only by excited shouts in the distance of tourists rafting down the river.

As soon as we sat down for a breather, Made disappeared into the bushes to return wearing only a sarong from her chest down without anything underneath. She instructed us to do the same as we had to bathe in the water. Lisa, however, politely declined and I simply removed my shirt. The two brothers and their friend stripped down to the basics. We all entered cave wadding into the cold water.

A spring constantly feds the mini lake in the cave through pipes installed by the villagers; All of us took turns under the water spouts. I shivered as I looked into the deep dark recess of the cave where the water looked haunted and foreboding. It was if there existed in its very heart a menagerie of spirits each jostling to have a look at the homo-sapiens who had briefly invaded their turf. Suddenly I noticed a number of fish nibbling at the submerged part of my body. I didn’t feel a thing but before I could react Tjok Gus told me not to be alarmed as the fish were simply cleaning me. He informed me that people with skin ailments and the like often visited the cave to lie in the water and be ‘cured’ by the fish. Bless their little souls (the fish I mean), I thought to myself.

It is said that on Full Moon nights and other auspicious occasions, villagers arrive in numbers bearing floral gifts and more to the cave in homage to the resident spirits. Those who are ill in body bathe in the water where the little fish possessed by the spirits cleanse them of their sickness.

The intense feeling of being watched by an unseen force was quite overwhelming. I had to gather courage and turn my back and wade out of the water. Dripping and shivering I glanced over my shoulder and saw a few dark shadows in the water. But they were not spirits, just very large cat fish, the favored residents that dine on chicken eggs generously offered by visitors.

After the ritual bathing, we genuflected before the temple at the mouth of the cave, prayed, lit incense sticks and then sat in silence. Thoughts of past iniquities, thoughtless indiscretions and lost loves flickered briefly like a candle in the wind and then were snuffed out by the feeling of not being alone. I felt a great force had descended on the place and was taking a keen interest in the goings on. At no time during the prayers did I feel threatened. It was as if the great force was there to protect us.

The bathing, the prayers, the aroma of incense permeating the air around us and the gentle breeze that seemed to rise and fall with every breath had purified us, me in particular for the light around suddenly appeared effervescent. A quietness had settled in me.

I came away wheezing my way back up the steep incline with Lisa and Made in tow. The boys had simply run up the hill. Breathless we sat in the car as Tjok Gus drove us to Nacho Mamas where we refreshed our memories with draught beer and calmed the nagging hunger with sizzling pork spare ribs.

It was only when I lay in bed that night watching the geckos munch on the flying creepy crawlies on the ceiling did it dawn on me that this was the secret of Ubud I had somehow missed all these years; a belonging without the threads of ‘warped inheritances’ tying one down.

This was Bali helping one to confront apprehensions and assuaging the tentativeness that many of us feel towards the unseen.

I had gone out that day with fear of the unknown and returned with a feeling of belonging…belonging to the Universe.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om

There comes a time in life when one is confronted with diversities that addles the brain and confuses the inbuilt compass that is the guide for navigating the Seen and Unseen. Here in Bali many among us have tasted the bitterness of reality that ambushes us time and again – loss of wealth, loss of self respect, a gut wrenching loss of a partner and more. In this despair we seek to rejuvenate our spirit through prayer and meetings with holy men.

The following is the portrait of a Balinese holy man who is a beacon for lost souls. Mark Ulyseas, Editor of Voices Today, had the privilege and honor to meet him in person to pick his brain and inscribe for posterity his life. No amount of verbosity can aptly describe this truly remarkable man; therefore one has resorted to brevity.

He has been a shaman for the last 12 years.

About 12 years ago he was afflicted by an illness that sapped his energy and drew him close to death. It was ‘diagnosed’ by a shaman in his family that a ‘Taksu’ (spirit) had set up home in his body and was forcing him to renounce the life of a ‘normal’ person and to become a shaman. The ‘Taksu’ residing in him is the son of the God of Lempuyang temple, Dewa Rambut Sudana. The shaman continues to recharge his energy by visiting many holy places with offerings. In return the spirits residing at these holy places honor the shaman by bestowing on him spiritual energy.

However, even though he has been granted the powers to ‘cure’ and ‘guide’ people with various ailments including heartbreak he cannot demand a fee but has to rely solely on their generosity. The shaman can only become rich, in a manner of speaking, in mind and body.

He meditates and performs rituals every 15 days – Full Moon (Purnama) and Dark Moon (Tilem). These rituals are performed at twilight (Santi Kala). On these auspicious days he does not shower and eats only white rice cooked by his wife at home.

For the last 12 years he has not had a haircut. The shaman’s matted tresses which is meters long is tied up and covered with a cloth. He believes that cutting and shaping his hair would bring sickness to his body. Also, it is a sign of shedding the ‘ego’ and the ‘no shower routine’ is seen as giving up worldly pleasures in service to the spirit world and God.

The land that his humble dwelling is built on has been ‘loaned’ to him without any charge like rent etc. If the land is sold by the present owner then the shaman and his family (wife and five small children) will move somewhere else. He is confident the villagers will give him another place to reside. The shaman and his family live at the mercy of the spiritual and material elements like the generosity of villagers and visitors who bring food and drink.

Some of the ‘usual’ requests made by visitors:

Foreigners – How or will they ever meet the right partner and/or a solution to failed/ing relationships.

Balinese – A cure for ailments, solutions to family problems and guidance on how to change one’s life for the better.

After the encounter, the shaman poured a shot of Arak from a bottle stuffed with special herbs and gave it to the writer to drink. After a few more shots Voices Today was born in the ether; And in the ensuing months crystallized into hard copy.

Matur Suksama

The world’s oldest profession exists on the assumption that human beings need physical sustenance and tender loving care – for a price; the end justifying the means or vice versa. The professional gets paid for the services rendered and the customer leaves after having given into an urge or a fantasy or both, as the case may be.

The professional is a butterfly that exists precariously on the edge of humanity, shunned by a hypocritical society and used as a receptacle for the male/female libido. Often the lives of such individuals become easy targets for unscrupulous people, warped religious aficionados and perverts.

The prevalent apathetic society that feeds on the lasciviousness of life only fuels the urge in many of us to fall prey to carnal desires that exceed the boundaries of propriety and common sense (morals in this case being elastic).

Recently, a Kupu Kupu Malam walked into the office of Voices Today to complain about a customer who had taken credit and not paid up: The customer being a well-known expat in Bali. Fortunately, sanity prevailed and she settled down to a comforting cup of Bali coffee and a chat with the editor of Voices Today, Mark Ulyseas.

This is an excerpt from the conversation that took place. Some details have been omitted – names/places have been changed to avoid embarrassment to persons known/unknown and to maintain a semblance of decorum.

Tell us your name and where do you come from?

I won’t tell you my real name. You can call me Tina, that’s the name one of my customer’s calls me. Actually it’s the name of his wife. He says he loves his wife.

I am not from Bali. I came here about five years ago, leaving my six-month-old baby with my parents.

You are married?

I was married for little less than a year till I got pregnant. My husband was very angry and divorced me because he didn’t want children.

And then?

My parents who were very poor couldn’t support me so I began selling vegetables at the local bazaar. At that time we were surviving on US 50 cents a day. Tired of such a poor life I came to Bali thinking I could get a job for a lot of money. I guess I have. (Laughs).

How much money do you send home every month?

US$ 600/-

How many members in your family?

There are five of us – my father, mother, younger brother and my five-year-old daughter.

Do your parents know what you do?

Yes but they don’t say anything. Such things are never spoken about at home. My mother keeps telling me to leave this job and to return home to look after my daughter and maybe to start an honest business there. I think I will retire next year and return home if God wills it.

Have you saved enough for your retirement?

I have a house, car, ten Are of land, many motorcycles that are given out on hire and I hope to open a shop in my hometown to sell nice things from Bali.

How old are you?

I am 24 years old. Been in this job for nearly five years.

How did you become a Kupu Kupu Malam?

When I came to Bali I met this very kind taxi driver who patiently explained how I could become a working girl. In fact he got me my first customer, David, who paid me US$15/-. He too was very helpful and got me many rich customers. He loved me but I hated him. And you know why?

Why?

Because he took advantage of me, he threatened to report me to the police if I didn’t give him a freebie for every few customers he got me. But he never took money from me. Thankfully he died of cancer after about a year of dealing with me.

How old was the youngest and the oldest customer? And how many customers do you entertain a day?

The youngest was a sixteen year old from Frenchie (France). And the oldest was a seventy year old from England. The Englishman was very gentle and treated me like a lady. I would have married him if he were not already married.

On a normal day I have two or three customers. But this number goes up during peak tourist season. Then I sometimes have around eight or nine of them. I don’t mind. Some are very scared; others give me presents and food.

Have you been sick with a disease you could have contracted from your customers?

Yes, twice I had to go to the doctor. Now I insist on using protection otherwise no happy ending.

Do you believe in God?

I believe in a God but I curse the world for making me a woman. Men just phone me, use me and then go back to their wives. Men are like Bali dogs. That’s why I like spending mental and physical time with women. They talk to me, listen to me when I am speaking to them and are always understanding when I sometimes mess things up. Above all they are very gentle in bed.

What is your favorite color?

Black because it covers all what I do and no one on the road can see through it.

Do you have a boyfriend?

I have many boyfriends – One at home and three (New Zealand, Spanish and Australia) here in Bali. My Australian friend wants to marry me and take me away. He knows what I do for a living but he truly loves me. I don’t trust men. They can’t stay with one woman for life. They have to try new ones all the time.

What goes through your mind when you are alone in your room?

I lie in bed and think about the men. How sad they really are. How stupid they are. And then I begin to feel happy because I know they will need me whenever my phone rings. So many men thinking about me, makes me feel good. I make them happy and then I take their money. I get angry when they take credit and don’t pay on time.

What was your wish when you were a little girl?

I wanted to be happily married and to live a decent life.

If you had one wish from God what would you ask for?

To be born a man.

Professor Unni Wikan, celebrated Norwegian anthropologist and author of Managing Turbulent Hearts –   A Balinese Formula for Living (a book that strips the veneer off the prevailing society and lays bare the intricacies of everyday life of the Balinese on the isle), speaks to Mark Ulyseas, editor Voices Today, in an exclusive interview.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

MU – Many visitors, women being in the majority, view Bali as a ‘feminine’ island with a culture that is all embracing. Do you feel that the increasing number of immigrants to this island will dilute or distort this culture? And will it (Balinese culture) morph into a more aggressive form thereby seeing a clash of cultures?

UW – I never thought of Bali as a ´feminine´ island; to me, such a concept does not make sense. Bali is a rich and complex civilization with a multitude of ways and “cultures” being practiced, some of them strongly patriarchal.

I do not think that immigration as such presents a danger to this remarkable Culture.  On the other hand, the exposure of youth to manifold influences through globalization, modern forms of communication, tourism etc. will undoubtedly have its impact, in Bali as elsewhere. We cannot say at this point in time what will emerge. It is not just a question of what happens in Bali but in the wider world.

MU – Do you think that the concrete jungle that is growing across the isle will alienate the Balinese with the growing influence of the “hotel and villa” culture? And what, if any, is the way out?

UW – I wish I had the answer to your question for there is clearly the danger that you point to.  The Balinese have traditionally lived in close harmony with nature; you couldn´t cut down a tree or erect a building, even a hut, without appeasing and taking permission from supernatural spirits.  The “hotel and villa” culture is fundamentally transforming the land and disturbing spirits that used to belong in certain places and that are a part of Balinese cosmology.  On the other hand, the Balinese resemble other humans in that they are pragmatic, and these new developments offer jobs to many people.  There is no win-win situation.

MU – Many long time residents believe the Balinese must be more pragmatic in terms of rescinding their responsibilities of the numerous mandatory attendances at religious ceremonies for the responsibilities of a job? Please comment.

UW – This is a challenge in many societies, how to accommodate job obligations with religious or ritual observances. I did fieldwork in Bhutan, a Buddhist country, and the same concern arose there: what could be required of job attendance of people who every so often had other “legitimate” ritual concerns. Or take Muslims in Norway, my country: praying five times a day at specific intervals is not easily combined with many kinds of job. Solutions must be found and generally, religions can be flexible:  they are, after all, partly man-made.

MU – There appears to be a growing gap between the haves and have not’s – the former being expats and the latter, Balinese. Do you think that this will lead to a backlash that will see a rise in criminal activities and in general disrespect for the Tamu (guest) leading to law and order problems?

UW – We see such problems emerging in many societies, they seem to be part and parcel of globalization. Organized, transnational crime is also on the rise everywhere.  What is special about Bali, as I know it, is how peaceful and orderly the island still is. But one should be aware.  Large-scale tourism naturally changes people´s perceptions of the Tamu, and the way many tourists (and some expats) behave further creates disrespect.

MU – Some say that marriages between expats and Balinese, where the age gap being a generation or two is abhorrent and should be curtailed; often these marriages are not legalized with competent authorities from the foreign embassies thereby disenfranchising the offspring from their rights to citizenship of the foreign country from which one parent comes from. Are we witnessing the birth of a generation existing between the gaps in society? And will these children of the morrow become the catalyst for change? And what change do you perceive this to be?

UW – I do not have first-hand knowledge of such cases, therefore it is hard for me to think through the implications with regard to Bali. Not having a legalized marriage is, however, a problem that many people in many countries are dealing with, and there is much international discussion of how to secure the rights of the child to paternity, inheritance and citizenship. Recently, there was a case in Egypt where a woman went to court because the man, with whom she had entered into a non-legalized (so called traditional – urfi – marriage) denied the child he had fathered paternity. In this case, both were Egyptians. She won, and has become an exemplar for others.  I believe women can become the catalysts for change.

MU – “I will not blame the rapes on Norwegian women. But Norwegian women must understand that we live in a Multicultural society and adapt themselves to it.” “Norwegian women must take their share of responsibility for these rapes.”

You stated this in reference to high profile incidents in Norway involving immigrant men and the local (Norwegian) women. Do you think the reverse will happen in Bali, like attacks on ‘visitor women scantily clad’ by ‘locals’ because the ‘visitors’ have shown ignorance of the social norms and/or not understood the prevalent culture?

UW – I have never said that women must take their share of responsibility for rapes. This is sheer misrepresentation of my statement. The rapist bears full responsibility for rape, which is a crime. What I did say was that many immigrants come from societies where the way many Norwegian women dress and behave is misunderstood to mean that they are immoral.  In a multicultural society, it is an advantage if people learn something about one another´s codes of communication.  The same applies if you are a tourist. It is a sad fact of life that women are exposed much more than men to sexual violence.  So women need to be careful, and knowledge is power.  But full responsibility for rape resides with the rapist.

MU – Is then, cultural clashes and clichés the raison d’être for an emerging ‘irrational society’?

UW – No, I wouldn´t use such a term. Society is not “irrational” but persons can be. However, rape does not have to do with irrationality. It is a crime usually committed by wholly rational people.

MU – You have written a number of books that have thrown light on the travails and tribulations and the constant fight for survival between man and woman in societies that discriminate. Does your book  “Behind the veil in Arabia: Women of Oman” shed light or reflect the state of women in general in societies across the world like India, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran, Iraq and beyond? And is the treatment of women in a society reflective of its ethos?

UW – Oman is special. It was, and continues to be to me an exemplar of a good Muslim society where women are well respected and treated. Oman has an enlightened ruler, Sultan Qaboos bin Said, who has had the power for nearly forty years, and has done a world of good for his country, including women. Yes, there is an ethos in Oman that underscores gracious behavior and that is reflected in the treatment of women. It is different from what you find in many other parts of the Muslim world, local culture and religion always intersect, and so Oman is quite different from not just Afghanistan or Iran, but also its neighbor, Saudi Arabia. That said, there are also similarities: Polygamy – a man´s right to have several wives simultaneously – still holds in many parts of the Muslim and non-Muslim world, Oman included. Men are privileged in numerous ways. But Oman could point the way to what other traditional societies, more harsh to women – Muslim, Hindu, Christian etc. – can become.

MU – What is the role of a culture? Does it create, give birth to or is it a matrix in which we are all born? And does this matrix hamstring enlightenment/progress in all parameters of society?

UW – We are born into cultures; I was born on an island in the Arctic Ocean in a part of Norway called the Land of the Midnight Sun, and my view on the world is profoundly shaped by the influences I came under through my formative 18 years there.  But cultures are ever changing, just like people; indeed, it is people who make up cultures, we are the agents, culture in itself can do nothing, it is just a word, a concept. It is important to keep this in mind: People have in their power to create and make “culture” happen, for good or bad.  Therefore too, culture clash is not a term I use: it indicates that there is something there with the power to act by itself. Think of people instead, and you have a better instrument for building peace.

MU -  As a celebrated and highly respected anthropologist do you think that Bali will survive the onslaught of the continuing influx of alien cultures bombarding the island; and will this be the beginning of a convergence that will bring about a new evolved society or will it be another reason for a conflict of cultures?

UW – Bali has withstood a continuing influx of alien cultures for a long time in history. That gives me hope for the future of this gem of a civilization. Bali is bound to go on changing and evolving; and society fifty years from now will be different from the one we know. But I believe there is a solid core that is sustainable and that may even take on a stronger identity as “Balinese” as cultures mix and mingle.  Or, I should rather say, as people from different cultures mix and mingle.  My husband, Fredrik Barth, wrote a book called “Balinese Worlds”, plain and simple. That says it all: Bali consists of many worlds, many cultural traditions that have co-existed, competed, and also enriched one another. This is due to the resourcefulness and tolerance of Balinese people.

MU – What are you working on now and will you be visiting Bali in the near future?

UW – I have just finished two books – one published in the US, the other in Norway, on honor killings in present-day Europe. A sad topic I never planned to handle but that became urgent with the murders of several young girls by their (immigrant) families in Europe.  One is called In Honor of Fadime: Murder and Shame and deals with the fate of a young Swedish-Kurdish woman who was killed by her own father because she had “dishonored” her family by choosing her own love in life and refusing a forced marriage to a cousin. Her story made the international community wake up to the fact that honor killings do not just belong to “them” but to “us” in the West, and has helped to put the problem on the international agenda. Now I am about to do something much more pleasant: embark on a long fieldtrip to Arabia (Yemen, Oman and Saudi Arabia) to explore ideas of freedom and dignity post 9/11, and to see how these ideas are put into practice in various walks of life. As an Arabic speaker I can work without interpreters and as a woman, I have easy access to people, I am not considered a threat. Among places I will visit is the Hadramawt in North Yemen where some families I know in Singaraja  originally came from so I will explore the links; there have been close connections between inner Arabia and Indonesia for centuries, with influences going both ways.

I have also an ongoing project in Bhutan, a Buddhist kingdom in the Himalayas, where I have spent much time to explore culture and religion.

I was last in Bali a year ago, and hope to return later this year. It is very much a part of my heart.

“I prefer to see Tuna in the sea than on a plate” – Delphine Robbe, Agronomist, Co-Founder of the Bio Rock Project,  Gili Trawangan, Indonesia.

Delphine was born in Paris. She studied in France and Canada obtaining her Masters in Agronomy Engineering followed by fieldwork in Madagascar in 2002. After that she traveled for over a year and a half in South East Asia, India, Mexico, Costa Rica, Israel, Gautemala etc. and then came to Indonesia in 2004 to do a Dive Master and Instructor Course at Big Bubble, Gili Trawangan (Gili T). Here she met her present employer, Anna Walker who was instrumental in setting up the non-profit organization, Gili Eco Trust, with Anthony Clubbey and Maurice Stevens of Manta Dive. In 2005 Delphine founded the Bio Rock Project in Gili T with Foued Kadachi and Laurent Lavoye.

Recently Mark Ulyseas met Delphine at Scallywags, a beachfront restaurant on Gili T, to talk about her life and work.

What is Bio Rock technology?

The two scientists who invented Biorock Technology was Dr. Tom Goreau, a marine biologist and Professor Wolf Hilbertz, an architect and inventor of electrolysis. The discovery came about when Hilbertz was studying how seashells and reefs grow by passing electricity through the salt water. He observed that calcium carbonate (Aragonite) slowly formed around the cathode, coating the electrode with a material as strong as concrete. And as long as current was passing through the structure it continued to grow at the rate of 5cm a year. When damaged the structure could also heal itself. This discovery prompted Hilbertz to devise a plan to grow low-cost structures in the ocean for developing countries. It caught the imagination of author Marshall Savage who wrote a book titled The Millennial Project.

However, his focus shifted to regeneration of coral reefs when he met Tom Goreau, a marine biologist, who was working on the preservation of reefs affected by erosion, pollution and global warming.

The Biorock process is simple. Build a tunnel shaped steel structure in size 10 meters long x 1.5 meters in width. Then place it under water. Connect electrical cables to a 12-volt battery on the shore and attach the cables to the underwater structure. Through electrolysis with the salt water limestone forms and grows on the structure.

Coral can be broken off from the reef and tied to the structure. The electric current assists in the growth of the coral from 2 to 6 times faster than usual.

Why did you start the project at Gili T?

After one year since my arrival in 2004 on Gili T, I started the Biodrock Project with Foud Kadachi and Laurent Lavoye because I was concerned about the state of the coral reefs around the Gilis. There was too much dead coral, pollution and above all no one was doing anything worthwhile to protect, preserve and sustain the reefs.

I had earned enough money from my job in diving and I felt I needed to give back to the Gilis, to say thank you. This is my way.

What is the importance of the Coral reefs?

The coral reefs protect the shoreline/beaches from erosion by breaking the wave action. But most importantly the coral reef is the habitat of nearly 70% of the fish in the ocean. It also acts like a nursery for the sea creatures. So the survival, good health and continuance of the reefs are vital for all living beings.

The coral reefs act as a classroom for marine biologists; students and tourists to learn all about sea life because it can be observed at close quarters.

What are the results of your work?

I am happy to announce that we have regenerated nearly 1.5 kilometers of coral reef. I could not have done this without the help of the Gili Eco Trust, SATGAS (Indonesian Security Force that assists in protecting the areas from being damaged/illegal fishing etc.), the Professors and students of Mataram University, Lombok; And more importantly the expats and Indonesian businesses on the isles.

In 2006 we conducted the Fourth Indonesian Biorock Training Workshop for scientists/students/divers/artists from all over the world. There were 35 participants. A total of 10 structures were built and installed East-South of the island. Since then many more structures have been put up.

In 2008 we organized workshops for 52 students/marine biologists/diving instructors/Indonesian businesses and restaurateurs.

We are now registered to certify divers in PADI Biorock Speciality.

Recently, CNN  filmed a documentary on the work done on the reefs. This is very heartening as the international community will see how Indonesia is coping with its environment and help will come from all quarters.

Why do you like the Gilis?

No cars. No motorbikes. No dogs. It’s quiet and I can dive everyday.

Any advice for visitors to the isles?

Don’t throw toilet paper in the bowl. Don’t throw plastic. Save water, save energy. Enjoy Nature don’t destroy it. Don’t walk on the reef. Don’t collect seashells or coral. Don’t buy seashells or coral. As an incentive we offer one free dive on the first Monday of every month to those who spend one day on the isle picking up plastic and other polluting waste from the beach and other areas.

Why do you seem one with the sea?

When I was twelve years old I did my first dive. It was off Reunion Island (next to Mauritius). During this dive I saw dolphins, the angels of the sea. The feeling of being part of a beautiful environment and being one with it was so overwhelming that I had to become a citizen of the sea and protector of it. The sensation of water all around me caressing my body, the colorful sights of fish and coral and the silence…yes silence.  Swimming in the sea is like being an intrinsic part of an exotic world. Do you understand what I am trying to say?

Where do you think this passion and lust for life comes from?

My father. He was a pilot with Air France and he also performed stunning aerobatics. Unfortunately during one of his maneuvers he crashed. I was six years old when he died at 33. I love him very much. I carry him in my heart wherever I travel.

You are now a 31-year old, unmarried? Do you ever think of settling down?

Why should one settle down? Life is one fascinating journey. I don’t want to get married or have babies because I will die by the time I am 33, just like my father. I have so much work to do for the environment and not enough time.

Will you continue living on this island?

No. My dream is to live on an Eco Boat and sail around the world educating people on how to preserve and sustain the environment.

Do you have a message for the readers of Voices Today?

The seas sustain all life on the planet. Help us to preserve it by not plundering its natural resources and polluting its world. I appeal to you to become true vegetarians – no meat or seafood. This will help stem the savage rape of the seas, thereby giving us an extended lease of life.

“Mike”, the world’s first hydrogen bomb, vaporized Elugelap Island and other parts of the Enewetak Atoll on November 01, 1952. (The blast was 700 times more powerful than the explosion that leveled Hiroshima). In the half century or so since then humans have destroyed around a quarter – some say a half – of all tropical coral reefs, which are one the world’s richest and oldest ecosystems and provide vital benefits in over 100 countries. Will the rest be gone within another fifty years – or less?  – Http://coralstory.blogspot.com

(Note: Professor Wolf Hilbertz died of cancer in Munich, Germany, August 11, 2007. The world has lost a true citizen of the sea. Many Indonesians and expats in Bali and the rest of the archipelago fondly remember him for his assistance on the preservation of the coral reefs in this country).