The Lucky Ones
Let’s talk about freedom for a second. I will be the first to admit that I take my freedom for granted. I take living in the US for granted. I take the roof over my head, the heat that comes out of the vents, the clean water that flows out of the faucet for granted. I didn’t realize how true this was until a Balinese driver took the 30 minute ride from our Airbnb to the Padang Bai Harbor to explain it to me.
Life in Bali is not as it seems. Yes, everyone seems happy and the the ritualistic daily offerings have an undeniable beauty to them. However, beneath that is a social hierarchy that controls the locals lives. This all came up because we were talking with our driver, Ketut, about how everyone is always smiling in Bali. He responded with the thing about it being all they can offer people and how their Hindu religion teaches you that everyone is equal and deserves to be treated with respect. It was all sounding lovely until he brought up the fact that there are five different languages being spoken in Bali at any given time. We had heard someone mention that once before but they didn’t fully explain it. It’s not a cultural thing, like one would think. It’s a class thing. These five languages are used to talk to different social classes.
“It’s a pyramid and each level needs to be talked to in their own language. Also, if you are from a lower class, you are not allowed into the home of someone from an upper class. Each home has a room for greeting people of lower classes. Sadly, you can never leave the class that you are born into either. You must marry someone in your level and most importantly, stay close to, or even better, in your village at all times. We have ceremonies every week and you are required by your village to attend every one. It doesn’t matter if you have to work or have other responsibilities either, you must be there. We can never travel or go anywhere else because you cannot miss anything. If a person higher up in my village says they need my car, which is my job and how I make money, I cannot say no. I must let them use it. It is hard sometimes. If you were to get kicked out of your village, you would not be able to move to the next village. Word would travel and everyone else would find out what you did, and you must leave the island of Bali and never return.” He paused for a second and seemed to apologize for what he telling us. “I don’t want to say anything bad about it, cause it’s my home, but you are very lucky to live in America. My vision goes just in front of my face and you’re goes miles away from you.”
It took me a second to realize what he was telling me and as it dawned on me, my stomach started to turn. He feels trapped. Forced to do whatever the higher levels of his village demand of him. He can’t even speak to them in his own language. My vision goes further than his because I am free to see, say, and do nearly anything I want.
“We have universities here and I don’t even know why. It’s a waste because once you graduate, you must come back to your village and practice the trade of your family. You cannot climb up like in America.”
As I listened to Ketut explain the ‘real’ Bali to us, all I could think about was how ungrateful I’ve been. For the last several years, my mind has been constantly racing with an all consuming feeling of needing to find my life’s purpose. Never once did I think about how lucky I was to even have the chance to do that. That I get to choose the life that I want. I can come and go from my childhood home whenever I want. I got to marry the man I wanted to. I can talk about my unhappiness with my government without whispering about it in a car with strangers from another country. And I can vote. When Ketut asked us about Trump and we quickly expressed our hatred, he implied that it must have been the older men who voted for him and not the younger men. The keyword being men. The men voted. Not the people. Not the women. Another luxury I have.
After that car ride, I started to view Bali differently. Were people there so incredibly religious because they wanted to be or because they had to? How could you hear that everyone is equal but then have to live in a hierarchy that you can never escape? I was there on an extended vacation that a 28 year old Balinese person would never be able to take. When we started to get nervous about Mt. Agung exploding, we could book a ticket off the island. The locals wouldn’t be able to do that. So, if you have any extra positive thoughts to send to the people of Bali, please do so.
Now, I’m not religious but I do believe in the energy of the universe. I think that there are signs to look out for and people to pay attention to. Ketut’s story was important because started a perspective shift that needed to happen within me. This whole trip is doing that but I didn’t start to see that until I heard his words. I have a hard time getting out of my head and out into the world and it’s time for that to change. My daily life, so matter how hard or overwhelming it can feel, is one big, beautiful, endless opportunity. I am lucky and it’s about time I started understanding and appreciating that.
