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.