How could I not be mad, Bali?
Bali dancers by Ario Pratisto
IT WAS VERY UNFORTUNATE for Bali for having me in the time of rage (you know, rage is an uncontrollable anger). But then again Bali might never be so lucky, ultimately, because I am always mad (you know, mad is an adjective, and it means: insane).
I went to Ubud, Bali, last week from 4 to 10 October. I volunteered for the 2011 Ubud Writers and Readers Festival. A five-day writers festival, the biggest in Indonesia, and among the top six best literary festivals in the world — so the Harper Bazaar, UK, reported.
I didn’t really check the writers lineup. I only knew Junot Diaz was confirming to come (apparently he didn’t, but it’s not really surprising, no?).
But I wasn’t angry because Junot was ill and couldn’t keep his oath to visit Bali, the beautiful city (oh is it?), and Ubud the quite and peaceful place (it’s true!). I was in a temper because a week before I actually walked on Ubud streets for an hour to just reach the Volunteer Basecamp, I met a journalist from Bali.
We met in a national conference for female journalists in Jakarta. I was (am?) mad not because of the meeting, because I must admit it was a quite lovely meet up. I was mad cuz I learned that Bali is now growing old and sad, so my friend told me. Old like our grannies losing their youth and beauty, living with wrinkles and tasteless porridge because she suffers from diabetes (please, Anita!) and sad as in the old lady couldn’t even remember that she too was once young and pretty.
“People are now queuing for transmigration programs. It’s not easy to find jobs in Bali, 80 percent of properties in Bali are owned by Jakarta people or foreigners,” she told me.
I am not a stupid racist or a chauvinist pig. But I met a group of journalists from Papua several weeks before I eventually met that female Balinese journalist. I even wrote an article about them and their documentary writings on kampongs in Papua.
You know what they told me? That Papua too is not happy. Kampongs in Papua are all lack of basic facilities, such as schools, community health centers, bridges, water supplies. It is 2011 but many people in Papua still rely on rainwater for drink. It is indeed the year of intellectual celebration because we can prove that God is an insignificant element in the creation of universe, but do you know that a lot of high school students in Papua could hardly read? Do I? I thought I do, but maybe I simply don’t.
Dying of malaria and tuberculosis are not news there, because you need hours to reach nearest Puskesmas and should consider yourself lucky if you ever find a nurse or doctor in that small community health center.
