Friday, March 20, 2009
मरी सेलामटकन Google अद्सेंसे Indonesia
Mari Selamatkan Google Adsense Indonesia
Baru saja beberapa jam yang lalu dapat kabar dari forum Adsense-ID, bahwa ada isu bahwa Google akan melakukan banned besar-besaran terhadap publisher Adsense dari Indonesia, bahkan mungkin Google akan mempertimbangkan Indonesia sebagai salah satu negara yang di blacklist dari program ini. Walaupun baru sekedar isu, tapi jadi agak khawatir juga, karena beberapa minggu yang lalu terjadi massive banned terhadap puluhan publisher Adsense di Yogyakarta, bahkan seorang Isnaini pun tak luput dari massive banned tersebut.
Be a good Indonesian Adsense Publisher, itu lah yang ingin saya tekankan di sini. Beberapa tahun yang lalu, tidak semua orang bisa mendaftar di program tersebut, kala itu hanya situs-situs yang berbahasa Inggris dan dengan domain sendiri saja yang diperbolehkan mendaftar. Beberapa tahun kemudian Google memperlunak peraturan tersebut, hingga semua orang yang mempunyai situs (baik hosting di hosting gratisan atau hosting berbayar) diperbolehkan untuk mendaftar.
Google tentunya bukan organisasi bodoh yang bisa mengambil keputusan tanpa pertimbangan yang matang. Jika Google memperbolehkan semua orang yang mempunyai web site atau blog untuk mendaftar Adsense, tentunya Google sudah menyiapkan segala sesuatu (baik dari segi manajemen dan infrastuktur) untuk mengatasi kemungkinan-kemungkinan kecurangan yang dilakukan oleh publisher Adsense.
Jadi, tolong buang jauh-jauh pola pikir “Gw klik iklan Adsense gw sendiri ah, kalau pun Google bisa detek IP, gw tinggal klik dari komputer warnet aja atau gw minta tolong temen gw buat klik-in”. Bodoh sekali jika Anda berpikiran seperti itu. Saya selalu pegang prinsip, “Ok, gw mungkin pinter, tapi Google jauh lebih pinter dari gw!”. Google mempunyai berbagai macam metode untuk mendeteksi Click Fraud, Multiple Adsense Account, dll.
Perlu saya luruskan disini, bahwa program Google Adsense bukanlah program mencari uang dengan mudah, jangan harap Anda bisa meraup ratusan bahkan ribuan dollar dalam sebulan jika Anda malas-malasan. Jangan mudah percaya jika ada orang yang menawarkan kursus atau workshop yang menggembor-gemborkan “Raup ribuan dollar dengan mudah dari Google Adsense”, “Mau cepat kaya? Ayo gabung dengan Google Adsense”. Well f*ck that! Jangan mudah tergiur dengan tagline-tagline seperti itu, those are just a bunch of crap.
Menghasilkan uang dari Google Adsense sama saja dengan pekerjaan-pekerjaan normal lainnya, semua butuh kerja keras. If you want money, you have to fight for it!
So, please..jangan bikin rusak nama Indonesia di mata orang luar. Be a good Indonesian, be a good Adsense publisher.
Jika Anda seorang Adsense publisher yang baik. Mari kampanyekan gerakan Be a Good Indonesian Adsense Publisher.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
वहत तो सी एंड दो इन BALI
- Kintamani Volcano Tour: The first stop is often in the village of Batubulan to watch a performance of the Barong and Kris Dance। Afterwards you visit the villages of Celuk (silver jewelry) and Mas (wood carving) to see Balinese artisans at work. Ubud, Bali's cultural center, has grown to a busy town with numerous Balinese art galleries and shops. A scenic drive over small roads overlooking beautiful rice terraces brings you to the mountain village of Kintamani (about 5,000 feet above the sea) which offers spectacular views of Lake Batur and the volcano. You can cross the crater lake below the still active Mount Batur and visit the "Bali Aga" village of Trunyan. Return through traditional villages with stops in Tampaksiring to visit the temple of Tirta Empul, and to visit the Elephant Cave "Goa Gajah", a hermitage from the 11th. century used by both Buddhists and Hindus.
- The "Mother Temple" and East Bali Tour: Drive to Besakih through various villages visiting on the way a weaving factory, see the famous painted ceiling at the old "Palace of Justice" in Klungkung, and visit the school of painting in Kamasan। The "Mother Temple" in Besakih is Bali's most holy and Indonesia's biggest Hindu temple. It was build in the 11th. Century in an altitude of 1,000 meters (3,000 feet) on the slopes of Mount Agung. You pass picturesque rice terraces on the way to the walled "Bali Aga" village of Tenganan, and continue to Candi Dasa on the East coast. On the way back it's recommended to stop at the famous Bat Cave "Goa Lawah" with thousands of bats hanging from the walls.
- Bedugul Tour: After a stop in Sangeh to visit its holy forest inhabited by wild monkeys, drive up into the mountains to Lake Bratan (1,200 meters above sea level) and the picturesque water temple Ulun Danu। Visit the busy flower, fruit and spice market in Candikuning where most of Bali's vegetables come from. Drive back through small country roads, villages and rice fields, with a stop in an artisan village specializing in gold threaded textiles (Ikat) worn during important ceremonies.
- North Bali Tour: Drive the scenic road via Pupuan through the mountains to Bali's North coast। You'll enjoy beautiful views of picturesque rice terraces, and large plantations growing vanilla, chocolate, coffee, cloves, and even wine grapes. Near the village of Banjar is a popular hot spring where you can take a bath in the natural pond. After a lunch on the black beach in Lovina you pass the old capital of Singaraja on the way to Git Git, famous for its multi-tier water fall. Return over back roads to see the unspoiled Bali. (This tour can be combined with the visit to Bedugul.)
- Monkey Forest & Tanah Lot Tour: Visit the royal Taman Ayun temple in Mengwi (built in 1624), the holy monkey forest near Sangeh, and famous Tanah Lot। This picturesque Balinese temple was built in the 16th. Century on a huge rock 100 yards off Bali's West coast and is surrounded by the sea during high tides. Spectacular sight, however, spoiled by thousands of tourists visiting every day during sunset. To avoid these, enjoy the view from the lobby of the nearby Le Meridien Nirvana Resort.
- Handicraft Villages & Ubud Tour: Visit the artisan villages of Batubulan (stone carving), Celuk (silver & gold jewelry), Mas (wood carving), and Pengosekan (painting). Stop at the "Bali Art Market" in Sukawati to bargain for all kinds of handicrafts and textiles. Already in the 1930s Ubud had been made famous around the world as Bali's cultural center by the German intellectual Walter Spies, the Dutch painter Rudolf Bonnet and other foreign artists who'd made it their home. Today Ubud is a fast growing town with numerous art galleries and shops offering paintings, wood carvings, textiles, and all kinds of souvenirs. Don't miss the MUSEUM PURI LUKISAN in the center of Ubud, the NEKA MUSEUM in Campuhan, the NEKA GALLERY in Ubud, the AGUNG RAI GALLERY in Peliatan, and the AGUNG RAI MUSEUM in Pengosekan to see the difference between creative art and more commercial products. Problem is that when you see their "Permanent Collections" at many "Galleries" you've seen real art, and when you return to their show rooms you don't like any of the very commercial products any more. The SENIWATI GALLERY - ART BY WOMEN, founded in 1991 by Mary Northmore (the very personable wife of famous painter Abdul Azis) to help Balinese women to be accepted as artists, is a place you should not miss whatever you do. The main purpose of this Bali art gallery is to expose the long understated brilliance of independent women artists resident in Bali, and to motivate, train, and encourage young Balinese girls with obvious creative gifts. Visit also the BLUE MOON STUDIO and GALLERY, founded in 1994 with an emphasis on exhibiting contemporary artists. The LOTUS CAFE is perhaps the most popular meeting point in town and has become kind of an institution, and MURNI'S as well as the BRIDGE CAFE offer tasty snacks and full meals in very pleasant surroundings and at reasonable prices. For other interesting restaurants please visit Restaurants in Ubud. The various Balinese dance and Wayang Kulit performances (see below) in Ubud and in nearby villages are worth spending the early evening there.
लेट्स ट्रेवल तो Indonesia
लेट'स गो तो BALI
THE PARADISE परदोक्स (हिस्ट्री ऑफ़ बलि)
Romantic Westerners once sold Balinese culture to the globe. Now locals wonder if their island is becoming a giant theme पार्क
© By Keith Loveard
BIG MACS IN THE macrobiotic hills of Ubud? West Bali National Park handed over to a timber magnate for eco-tourism? Similar rumors of development doom have been flying on Indonesia's fabled island ever since the 1930s, when it was first marketed to the world as paradise on एअर्थ
True or not, the latest whispers making the rounds point to an increasingly gnawing worry
More and more Balinese are asking: Is our home being turned into a giant theme park?
Nothing perhaps has stoked fears more that Bali is being Disneyfied than the 40-story (140-meter) statue of the mythical Garuda bird that sculptor I Nyoman Nuarta is creating across from the international airport. Once it is completed in a couple of years, you can be sure tourist brochures will describe it as "The Largest in the World!"
The Garuda statue symbolizes a growing divide on the island. Some see the big bird as an apt metaphor for modern Bali. Governor Ida Bagus Oka, for example, compares it favorably to the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Others, like environmentalist I Made Suarnatha, see the statue as a crass tourist attraction that will cheapen Bali's heritage and send the message that anything goes. "The people of Bali are shocked by the image this will present," says Suarnatha. "But as with all these projects, developers and officials refuse to discuss it. I am tired of trying to talk when the other side doesn't want to."
A recent history of Bali might well be called The Paradise Paradox. Here we have an Asian culture that was sold to the world by Western romantics, a Hindu island in a mostly Muslim archipelago, a tourist destination that is at once commercial and deeply spiritual. While other famous tropical idylls have succumbed to jet-loads of fun-seekers, Bali culture has proved itself remarkably resilient. Nor have the people utterly lost out to the powerful business elites from the neighboring island of Java. Nonetheless, with the government planning to divide the island into 21 tourist zones, locals and tourists alike are wondering yet again whether Bali's photogenic dances and festivals, beaches and rice terraces can survive intact.
Make no mistake, Bali faces serious environmental problems. In the capital Denpasar, drinking water dwindles to a trickle during the day, owing, say conservationists, to the unquenchable thirst of Nusa Dua, the elite resort. The hotel industry's demand for electricity has pushed forward plans for a controversial geothermal power station at Bedugal, a sacred mountain lake. Nor are the beaches immune to the build-it-and-they-will-come philosophy. Sand dredging off the port of Benoa to enlarge an island for yet more hotels has altered the water currents; they are now eating away at the beaches in the old resort area of Sanur. Such developments are supposed to be accompanied by an environmental impact study guaranteeing that the projects are sustainable. "These studies are no more than procedure," says environmentalist Yuyun Ilham. "It doesn't matter how they implement the project. As long as they have the document, it's fine."
There is no debate about the debacle at Candi Dasa, a development on the east coast. Limestone from offshore reefs was used to build the hotels. Oops. With the reefs ground down, the resort beach was left open to the waves. Rather than see their inns slip into the sea, the owners ordered a series of water-breaks that march along the beach like ragged dinosaur teeth. "That was the Balinese people being stupid," says Oka, referring to the development. He denies any current projects are ecologically unsound. "The people are aware that the culture, the people, the beaches are their natural wealth. There is no way they would destroy their environment, though in some cases they may not understand the effects of what they want to do."
In fact, Balinese talk far less about ruined beaches and feeble water pressure than they do about destruction of their way of life, how their culture is being mass-marketed to the world. The government constantly urges the people to smile and make their traditional ceremonies extra lavish to please the visitors, so much so that many communities have run up hefty debts trying to outdo the neighbors. But while they endure modern rituals thrust upon them by a government eager for foreign exchange, the Balinese, as in other famous vacation spots, have a tendency to blame the tourists. Anak Agung Oka is typical in this regard. Agung, 33, is in charge of the community's adat, traditional laws that cover everything from land ownership to relationships. He lives in a village in Legian, now a northerly extension of the tourist tack of Kuta. When skimpily attired tourists venture into town, Agung feels like telling them "not to kill my tradition."
In 1993, Indonesia's Bakrie group unveiled plans to build a resort and golf course at Tanah Lot. Some locals expressed horror that they would be able to see the complex from the nearby temple, one of the holiest on Bali. In a virtually unprecedented display of disenchantment, Hindu priests organized protests. In the end a compromise was worked out. Bakrie moved the hotel back a few hundred meters, though temple-goers can still spy tourists teeing off.
The small victory has been hailed by activists who see in it the seeds of a revolt against the evils of unplanned tourism that is wrecking the environment and undermining Bali's vaunted culture. But the temple protest may have had less to do with religion than jealousy – namely that outsiders (in this case a Jakartan) were making money at the expense of locals. Long before the resort opened, the path to the holy site was lined with ramshackle shops selling souvenirs to tourists watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean. A double standard? Governor Oka says he asked the same thing. "If this is a protest against outsiders," he asks, "what happens if people outside don't like us?"
The governor has a point. Even Balinese who bemoan the paving of their island acknowledge that they have done handsomely by the planeloads of free-spending tourists. Last year, according to official figures, there were 1.16 million direct arrivals, a big advance on the 738,533 who visited four years earlier. That does not take into account the extra one-million-plus foreigners who don't fly direct, not to mention the weekenders from Java. Whatever the exact figures, Bali's economy is moving far faster than the rest of the country. Balinese proudly buzz around on motorscooters. They rarely have to look far for work. And many are downright enthusiastic about tourism.
Priests happily marry non-Hindus such as Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall for cash. Get-rich-quick artists are willing to overlook the adat laws to sell off ancestral land for big bucks. One Balinese entrepreneur runs two hotels, a restaurant and two discos, where locals and tourists alike pop ecstacy to improve their view of paradise. He is making so much cash, his neighbors speculate that Bali has become a money-laundering hub for drug barons. Balinese are increasingly savvy when it comes to their birthright: most developments are on land that is leased for 30 years. Hence, the hotels, restaurants and homes that smother much of southern Bali will revert to the Balinese.
That has not stopped the griping, of course. Balinese say the Javanese are scooping most of the tourism profits – and that the Jakarta establishment, including the children of President Suharto, are more interested in "ego-tourism" than in prudent investments; so many hotels are being built that room-price wars erupt from time to time at five-star inns. There are also complaints that developers cheat landowners. Those who refuse to sell at low prices risk having their homes demolished by bulldozers; that is what allegedly happened this year at the Pecatu project of Suharto son Hutomo Mandala Putera. All that aside, compared to their neighbors on Lombok, where foreign and Jakarta investors have mostly shoved the Sasak people out of the tourist game, Balinese are doing well.
In 1937, Miguel Covarrubias wrote the seminal work Island of Bali. In it the Mexican author reckoned that the isle was "doomed to disappear under the merciless onslaught of modern commercialism and standardization." Years later, the American anthropologist Margaret Mead came to much the same conclusion. Today's jet-fresh tourists might well, too. In Kuta, confused, sun-burned visitors are hassled by day by sellers of cold drinks, copy watches and sunglasses and by night by touts pushing sex and drugs. Here Japanese and Australian girls can find instant romances with bronzed gigolos. In Ubud, tourists buy batik hangings that are rolled out like so much wallpaper. In fact, if tourists have any interest at all in Balinese culture, it is usually limited to buying mass-market folk art or attending a dance show, often at their hotel. Kids, bored with the thought of visiting yet another temple, want theme parks and water slides, such as the Kuta Water Bom park.
Even well-heeled Balinese would rather hang out at Kuta's Hard Rock Cafe than watch a classical legong dance. "There is a very serious middle class here with money to spend," says Stuart, an Australian who has made a good living from the tourist trade for the past 10 years. "Jakarta has its Taman Mini theme park. So why shouldn't Bali have its own? These are diversions, whether you're talking about parks or prostitutes. It's what comes with money."
And yet, amid the hungry commercial rush of Kuta's strip, each day young Balinese women place floral offerings to the gods in front of every doorway. On the sacred day of Nyepi, the entire island shuts down. On lesser feast days, some devoted to such quaint chores as blessing steel, wood and other materials, processions of brightly clad women and men in their Hindu whites take to the streets, delighting foreign onlookers. Sitting by the lotus pond in his garden, Agung says adat remains a big force in the lives of ordinary folk. "Youngsters might experiment a little with Western lifestyles," he says. "But the sanctions of the community are strong enough that they quickly get pulled back in line. The ritual drum that summons people for ceremonies still has a strong charisma."
In a place where most people will tell you that adat and religion come first in the scale of priorities, followed by family and, only then, business, clearly some kind of culture endures. The problem, says local anthropologist Degung Santikarma, is how to define what it is. "We are asking, 'What is authentic?'" he says. "But no one wants to listen. What we have is something fluid." In the meantime, he dismisses foreigners – "these romantic junkies from the West" – who stay a month or 12 and start telling the Balinese how to rescue their culture.
Of course, it was foreigners who helped to create much of the Bali that the world knows today. Before the colonial period, the Balinese were better known for frequent internecine wars and a thriving slave trade than for an enlightened culture. A handful of foreigners who lived on the island between the two world wars helped shape Bali's reputation as a cultural destination. The places they chose to settle &ndash Kuta, Ubud, Sanur – became the focal nodes of modern tourism. Even as they disseminated images of the so-called last paradise – best exemplified by the bare-breasted Balinese beauty – these early residents encouraged art forms that might well have died out otherwise. "From the 1930s there was the appearance of imitation arts," says Prof. I Made Bandem, head of the Indonesian Institute of Arts at Denpasar. "Ritual forms were turned into mass art and sold to the tourists. This served to preserve them from extinction."
One of the most influential foreign residents was Walter Spies, a German painter and musician. He moved to Ubud, encouraged other artists and writers to settle in Bali, and did much to sow the seeds of artistic development in painting, sculpture and dance. When Ronald Reagan visited Bali in 1986, according to American ethnologist Edward M. Bruner, the then U.S. president was shown a kecak dance performance. The choreographer? None other than Walter Spies, who put together the routine with a Balinese troupe back in the 1930s.
When Made Yudha was growing up, his village in the Legian region was nothing but rice fields. Today they have for the most part been swallowed up by the hotels, lodges, restaurants, bars and shops that thrust for 10 kilometers north from Ngurah Rai airport through Kuta. "Development has been too fast," says Made, 35, who now oversees environmental affairs for the village association. "Maybe the government has handed out too many development licenses."
The governor, of course, believes different. Oka says that the 21 tourist zones are part of a master plan that involved discussions with all the affected communities. Each zone, he vows, will be developed to meet the individual needs of the area. Few Balinese believe it. "The government seems intent on pursuing mass tourism," says Suarnatha. "We could be looking for quality tourism, with lower numbers but more lasting value. Now the Bali government is saying every area of the island has to have a resort development. It's crazy."
Crazy or not, the Balinese are making money out of tourism in a style that their compatriots elsewhere in Indonesia can only envy. The changes continuing to press on the island may not suit romantics, and many Balinese admit they worry about what it will mean for their future. "We are not completely content," the governor acknowledges. "The people of Bali have to be aware that with all the changes we have seen, we now have to make corrections and learn to work efficiently. We know that what we enjoy now is our heritage, and we have to give it back to our children and grandchildren in a form they too can enjoy and use."
For the past century, Bali has endured dramatic change. But for every tourist who complains that the real Bali is dead, there is another who is impressed by the island's cultural individuality. Motorbikes and cars are now part of the Balinese legacy – and their owners take them to the temple for an annual blessing. In the midst of so much change, ritual lives on. Only the Gods of Bali can know how real it all is.
Keith Loveard is an Asiaweek senior correspondent based in Jakarta
THE PARADISE परदोक्स (हिस्ट्री ऑफ़ बलि)
Romantic Westerners once sold Balinese culture to the globe. Now locals wonder if their island is becoming a giant theme पार्क
© By Keith Loveard
BIG MACS IN THE macrobiotic hills of Ubud? West Bali National Park handed over to a timber magnate for eco-tourism? Similar rumors of development doom have been flying on Indonesia's fabled island ever since the 1930s, when it was first marketed to the world as paradise on एअर्थ
True or not, the latest whispers making the rounds point to an increasingly gnawing worry
More and more Balinese are asking: Is our home being turned into a giant theme park?
Nothing perhaps has stoked fears more that Bali is being Disneyfied than the 40-story (140-meter) statue of the mythical Garuda bird that sculptor I Nyoman Nuarta is creating across from the international airport. Once it is completed in a couple of years, you can be sure tourist brochures will describe it as "The Largest in the World!"
The Garuda statue symbolizes a growing divide on the island. Some see the big bird as an apt metaphor for modern Bali. Governor Ida Bagus Oka, for example, compares it favorably to the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Others, like environmentalist I Made Suarnatha, see the statue as a crass tourist attraction that will cheapen Bali's heritage and send the message that anything goes. "The people of Bali are shocked by the image this will present," says Suarnatha. "But as with all these projects, developers and officials refuse to discuss it. I am tired of trying to talk when the other side doesn't want to."
A recent history of Bali might well be called The Paradise Paradox. Here we have an Asian culture that was sold to the world by Western romantics, a Hindu island in a mostly Muslim archipelago, a tourist destination that is at once commercial and deeply spiritual. While other famous tropical idylls have succumbed to jet-loads of fun-seekers, Bali culture has proved itself remarkably resilient. Nor have the people utterly lost out to the powerful business elites from the neighboring island of Java. Nonetheless, with the government planning to divide the island into 21 tourist zones, locals and tourists alike are wondering yet again whether Bali's photogenic dances and festivals, beaches and rice terraces can survive intact.
Make no mistake, Bali faces serious environmental problems. In the capital Denpasar, drinking water dwindles to a trickle during the day, owing, say conservationists, to the unquenchable thirst of Nusa Dua, the elite resort. The hotel industry's demand for electricity has pushed forward plans for a controversial geothermal power station at Bedugal, a sacred mountain lake. Nor are the beaches immune to the build-it-and-they-will-come philosophy. Sand dredging off the port of Benoa to enlarge an island for yet more hotels has altered the water currents; they are now eating away at the beaches in the old resort area of Sanur. Such developments are supposed to be accompanied by an environmental impact study guaranteeing that the projects are sustainable. "These studies are no more than procedure," says environmentalist Yuyun Ilham. "It doesn't matter how they implement the project. As long as they have the document, it's fine."
There is no debate about the debacle at Candi Dasa, a development on the east coast. Limestone from offshore reefs was used to build the hotels. Oops. With the reefs ground down, the resort beach was left open to the waves. Rather than see their inns slip into the sea, the owners ordered a series of water-breaks that march along the beach like ragged dinosaur teeth. "That was the Balinese people being stupid," says Oka, referring to the development. He denies any current projects are ecologically unsound. "The people are aware that the culture, the people, the beaches are their natural wealth. There is no way they would destroy their environment, though in some cases they may not understand the effects of what they want to do."
In fact, Balinese talk far less about ruined beaches and feeble water pressure than they do about destruction of their way of life, how their culture is being mass-marketed to the world. The government constantly urges the people to smile and make their traditional ceremonies extra lavish to please the visitors, so much so that many communities have run up hefty debts trying to outdo the neighbors. But while they endure modern rituals thrust upon them by a government eager for foreign exchange, the Balinese, as in other famous vacation spots, have a tendency to blame the tourists. Anak Agung Oka is typical in this regard. Agung, 33, is in charge of the community's adat, traditional laws that cover everything from land ownership to relationships. He lives in a village in Legian, now a northerly extension of the tourist tack of Kuta. When skimpily attired tourists venture into town, Agung feels like telling them "not to kill my tradition."
In 1993, Indonesia's Bakrie group unveiled plans to build a resort and golf course at Tanah Lot. Some locals expressed horror that they would be able to see the complex from the nearby temple, one of the holiest on Bali. In a virtually unprecedented display of disenchantment, Hindu priests organized protests. In the end a compromise was worked out. Bakrie moved the hotel back a few hundred meters, though temple-goers can still spy tourists teeing off.
The small victory has been hailed by activists who see in it the seeds of a revolt against the evils of unplanned tourism that is wrecking the environment and undermining Bali's vaunted culture. But the temple protest may have had less to do with religion than jealousy – namely that outsiders (in this case a Jakartan) were making money at the expense of locals. Long before the resort opened, the path to the holy site was lined with ramshackle shops selling souvenirs to tourists watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean. A double standard? Governor Oka says he asked the same thing. "If this is a protest against outsiders," he asks, "what happens if people outside don't like us?"
The governor has a point. Even Balinese who bemoan the paving of their island acknowledge that they have done handsomely by the planeloads of free-spending tourists. Last year, according to official figures, there were 1.16 million direct arrivals, a big advance on the 738,533 who visited four years earlier. That does not take into account the extra one-million-plus foreigners who don't fly direct, not to mention the weekenders from Java. Whatever the exact figures, Bali's economy is moving far faster than the rest of the country. Balinese proudly buzz around on motorscooters. They rarely have to look far for work. And many are downright enthusiastic about tourism.
Priests happily marry non-Hindus such as Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall for cash. Get-rich-quick artists are willing to overlook the adat laws to sell off ancestral land for big bucks. One Balinese entrepreneur runs two hotels, a restaurant and two discos, where locals and tourists alike pop ecstacy to improve their view of paradise. He is making so much cash, his neighbors speculate that Bali has become a money-laundering hub for drug barons. Balinese are increasingly savvy when it comes to their birthright: most developments are on land that is leased for 30 years. Hence, the hotels, restaurants and homes that smother much of southern Bali will revert to the Balinese.
That has not stopped the griping, of course. Balinese say the Javanese are scooping most of the tourism profits – and that the Jakarta establishment, including the children of President Suharto, are more interested in "ego-tourism" than in prudent investments; so many hotels are being built that room-price wars erupt from time to time at five-star inns. There are also complaints that developers cheat landowners. Those who refuse to sell at low prices risk having their homes demolished by bulldozers; that is what allegedly happened this year at the Pecatu project of Suharto son Hutomo Mandala Putera. All that aside, compared to their neighbors on Lombok, where foreign and Jakarta investors have mostly shoved the Sasak people out of the tourist game, Balinese are doing well.
In 1937, Miguel Covarrubias wrote the seminal work Island of Bali. In it the Mexican author reckoned that the isle was "doomed to disappear under the merciless onslaught of modern commercialism and standardization." Years later, the American anthropologist Margaret Mead came to much the same conclusion. Today's jet-fresh tourists might well, too. In Kuta, confused, sun-burned visitors are hassled by day by sellers of cold drinks, copy watches and sunglasses and by night by touts pushing sex and drugs. Here Japanese and Australian girls can find instant romances with bronzed gigolos. In Ubud, tourists buy batik hangings that are rolled out like so much wallpaper. In fact, if tourists have any interest at all in Balinese culture, it is usually limited to buying mass-market folk art or attending a dance show, often at their hotel. Kids, bored with the thought of visiting yet another temple, want theme parks and water slides, such as the Kuta Water Bom park.
Even well-heeled Balinese would rather hang out at Kuta's Hard Rock Cafe than watch a classical legong dance. "There is a very serious middle class here with money to spend," says Stuart, an Australian who has made a good living from the tourist trade for the past 10 years. "Jakarta has its Taman Mini theme park. So why shouldn't Bali have its own? These are diversions, whether you're talking about parks or prostitutes. It's what comes with money."
And yet, amid the hungry commercial rush of Kuta's strip, each day young Balinese women place floral offerings to the gods in front of every doorway. On the sacred day of Nyepi, the entire island shuts down. On lesser feast days, some devoted to such quaint chores as blessing steel, wood and other materials, processions of brightly clad women and men in their Hindu whites take to the streets, delighting foreign onlookers. Sitting by the lotus pond in his garden, Agung says adat remains a big force in the lives of ordinary folk. "Youngsters might experiment a little with Western lifestyles," he says. "But the sanctions of the community are strong enough that they quickly get pulled back in line. The ritual drum that summons people for ceremonies still has a strong charisma."
In a place where most people will tell you that adat and religion come first in the scale of priorities, followed by family and, only then, business, clearly some kind of culture endures. The problem, says local anthropologist Degung Santikarma, is how to define what it is. "We are asking, 'What is authentic?'" he says. "But no one wants to listen. What we have is something fluid." In the meantime, he dismisses foreigners – "these romantic junkies from the West" – who stay a month or 12 and start telling the Balinese how to rescue their culture.
Of course, it was foreigners who helped to create much of the Bali that the world knows today. Before the colonial period, the Balinese were better known for frequent internecine wars and a thriving slave trade than for an enlightened culture. A handful of foreigners who lived on the island between the two world wars helped shape Bali's reputation as a cultural destination. The places they chose to settle &ndash Kuta, Ubud, Sanur – became the focal nodes of modern tourism. Even as they disseminated images of the so-called last paradise – best exemplified by the bare-breasted Balinese beauty – these early residents encouraged art forms that might well have died out otherwise. "From the 1930s there was the appearance of imitation arts," says Prof. I Made Bandem, head of the Indonesian Institute of Arts at Denpasar. "Ritual forms were turned into mass art and sold to the tourists. This served to preserve them from extinction."
One of the most influential foreign residents was Walter Spies, a German painter and musician. He moved to Ubud, encouraged other artists and writers to settle in Bali, and did much to sow the seeds of artistic development in painting, sculpture and dance. When Ronald Reagan visited Bali in 1986, according to American ethnologist Edward M. Bruner, the then U.S. president was shown a kecak dance performance. The choreographer? None other than Walter Spies, who put together the routine with a Balinese troupe back in the 1930s.
When Made Yudha was growing up, his village in the Legian region was nothing but rice fields. Today they have for the most part been swallowed up by the hotels, lodges, restaurants, bars and shops that thrust for 10 kilometers north from Ngurah Rai airport through Kuta. "Development has been too fast," says Made, 35, who now oversees environmental affairs for the village association. "Maybe the government has handed out too many development licenses."
The governor, of course, believes different. Oka says that the 21 tourist zones are part of a master plan that involved discussions with all the affected communities. Each zone, he vows, will be developed to meet the individual needs of the area. Few Balinese believe it. "The government seems intent on pursuing mass tourism," says Suarnatha. "We could be looking for quality tourism, with lower numbers but more lasting value. Now the Bali government is saying every area of the island has to have a resort development. It's crazy."
Crazy or not, the Balinese are making money out of tourism in a style that their compatriots elsewhere in Indonesia can only envy. The changes continuing to press on the island may not suit romantics, and many Balinese admit they worry about what it will mean for their future. "We are not completely content," the governor acknowledges. "The people of Bali have to be aware that with all the changes we have seen, we now have to make corrections and learn to work efficiently. We know that what we enjoy now is our heritage, and we have to give it back to our children and grandchildren in a form they too can enjoy and use."
For the past century, Bali has endured dramatic change. But for every tourist who complains that the real Bali is dead, there is another who is impressed by the island's cultural individuality. Motorbikes and cars are now part of the Balinese legacy – and their owners take them to the temple for an annual blessing. In the midst of so much change, ritual lives on. Only the Gods of Bali can know how real it all is.
Keith Loveard is an Asiaweek senior correspondent based in Jakarta
Friday, March 13, 2009
WELCOME ABOARD GUYS
Hi Guys,
Finnally I make my own blog...
I hope this blog will make me spread my wings wider (like an angel saving the days).
Well I'm just newbies, so please don't hesitate to criticise me when I'm making mistakes or I say something in appropriate in my blogs..
I want to bring happiness around the Globe, so join me in my neighbourhood..
Keep the Spirit Guys
Love U all
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