Handicrafts and cargo cults on Bali island
Handicrafts and cargo cults on Bali island
By Degung Santikarma
UBUD, Bali (JP): Bali has carefully cultivated an image as an island of shimmering rice paddy views. But travelers on the road between Ubud and Tegalalang will find the journey tightly hemmed by a never-ending strip of shops, all exuding whatever happens to be the latest trend in Balinese handicrafts. And those who travel the Ubud to Tegalalang road in search of the ultimately authentic handicraft will find that Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Dino the Dinosaur are the height of Balinese handicraft fashion.
The art of simulation reigns in Bali -- once you've seen one shop you've seen them all. Visitors to Bali inevitably comment on the replication craze, lamenting the lack of originality and what seems to be the absence of good business sense.
Lynn Swarne is an Australian handicraft retailer based in Sydney. She came to Bali especially to buy up. After a hard day on the Ubud to Tegalalang Road, Lynn advised: "I think it would be much better if they carved out niche markets for themselves, put more emphasis on the original product. Individual creativity is really the key to success in business."
Most entrepreneurs will say that individual creativity, the combination of toil and cunning, is how to maintain a competitive edge, and that oversupply of any one product is bad business sense. But chats with the handicraft traders in Bali reveal a work and business ethic that deviates from the mainstream. Traders agree that labor and enterprise are necessary in seeking wealth. But the meaning of labor and wealth is where the Balinese work ethic starts to differ. For the traders, labor is not so much about advancing enterprise and individual creativity as it is about developing a sense of ritual. And it is following ritual, rather than developing originality, that attracts a certain kind of wealth.
Wayan Darta is the owner of a shop along the Ubud to Tegalalang road. His shop, like the others, offers generous shoals of carved dolphins and whales. When asked why he makes dolphins, he offered: "Others were making them, so I followed." Darta's reply suggests that jengah (the shame one feels when a neighbor acquires something and you fail to), could well be at the basis of the Balinese obsession with copying. One could say then that the handicraft industry in Bali is suffering a kind of "jengah syndrome": a competitive compulsion to imitate one's neighbor.
Around this jengah-based simulation in handicrafts a kind of modern Balinese ritual has developed. To a large extent, the handicraft industry is about the ritualization of business. Traditionally, ritual in Bali was concerned with the exercise and display of power. This tradition continues in the modern handicraft ritual. Establishing a handicraft shop is as much about achieving cultural status as it is about seeking monetary profit. In the minds of many visitors, the term Balinese cultural wealth conjures images of an age-old, resilient yet syncretic tradition. But for many Balinese nowadays, being culturally rich is perhaps more about owning the symbols of modernity -- computers, phones, faxes and the obligatory fat-tired jeep -- than it is about preserving tradition and protecting an ancient culture. Modern prayers travel the phone line. Mobiles and electronic mail offer a much more time and energy efficient channel to the contemporary metaphysical: Yang Maha Pariwisata (the Almighty Tourism).
As incomprehensible as it may be for the foreign buyers, imitation for the Balinese makes social and cultural sense. But what about succeeding in business? For Lynn Swarne, developing a certain power of knowledge, cultivating business acumen and choosing the right product for the right market, will ultimately lead to profit. But Wayan Darta's economic strategy refers to a different kind of rationale. For him, "business is based on rezeki (blessing). Maybe it's divine intervention. Any tourist can walk into a shop and buy a carved dolphin. If they walk into my shop, I know it's just luck." Darta's economic rationale melds the metaphysical with supernatural and the economically sensible. A modern Balinese millenaraism seems to be operating here. Like the Melanesian cargo cults, Balinese handicraft traders gather in uniform hordes on the Ubud to Tegalalang road, poised ready to welcome Just King of the modern world -- the tourist. For the handicraft traders, tourism promises to herald an age of plenty.