Tired of being spit on, dumped on, screamed at and abused? Would you like to sit down and eat your dinner rather than wearing it? How would it feel to walk down the street and have men see you as a sexy chick, rather than as a neurotic mother? Seek no more. Get on the next plane to Bali. Welcome to paradise.
Balinese people love children. The Balinese believe children are as close to gods as one gets down here, having recently descended from the company of the great ones.
Typically, when people plan a vacation to a foreign land, they research things like visa requirements, driver’s licenses and cultural protocol. My advice? Don’t worry about it. You’ve got the next best thing. A kid.
Principle #1: Expect to be treated better with a child than without.
We are driving out to Uluwatu beach on my motorbike: me, my son and our pembantu. Get to know this word. Get to love it. It is synonymous with freedom. It means nanny. I intend to surf one of the world’s most famous waves while Agung plays with my son Teal on the beach. We pass a police checkpoint and are waved to the side of the road. Two uniformed men saunter over to us.
“Where is your international driver’s license?”
“Oh, I didn’t know I needed one I reply.
They have legal recourse to impound my bike and demand a hefty fine. Do I bribe them? Bribing always makes me nervous. As I deliberate, one of our lovely officers notices my son has sweat beads on his nose.
“No,” he says, “we cannot detain you any longer. Your child is very hot. Cassien. (Immense compassion). You must take him to the beach. Hang ten.
It’s easy to get used to a vacation destination where people give up their places in line for you and women fly out of restaurants to fill your child’s hands with sweet rice cakes and bananas. In general, my son’s presence would afford me leeway in all situations and any blunders he made were taken pretty lightly. I attribute this to:
Principle #2: Anak kecil, biasa. Translation: with a small child, this is normal.
Let me illustrate. I have defied common sense once again and taken my two-year-old to a favorite restaurant. Our+E3 food has arrived and he is happily dousing his plate with salt and pepper, munching away. I figure this is a safe time to make a dash for the bathroom. I catch the waiter’s eye to let him know where I am going and he smiles and nods. While I am enjoying the privilege of solitary release, I hear a wave of laughter erupt from my fellow diners. It carries on. I wish to believe this has nothing to do with my son. But I know better.
I emerge from my sanctuary. All eyes and smiles turn to me. I make my way to our table to find my son has taken down his pants, exactly as he has been told to, and let loose a big pee on the cushions we have been sitting on. I’m mortified. The thing is though, I’m the only one. The other diners are thoroughly entertained. The same waiter comes forward, grinning and calmly removes the cushion cover so that it can be washed. I make apologetic motions with my hands. “No, no,” he will hear nothing of it. “Anak kecil, biasa.” End of story. Imagine this same incident in your favorite restaurant.
Balinese men are extraordinarily loving with and take a pride in their children I can liken it only to the way some western men are fond of a new car. Teenage boys and young men are often seen hugging, kissing and tickling young babies and throwing them up in the air with glee. As a western woman, these things are heartwarming, if not downright titillating to witness. Which leads us to:
Go to the next page for Principle #3!
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Principle #3: Paradise does not come without a price.
There are a few things you’ll have to get used to. Like sexy, long-haired, ripply-stomached Balinese men throwing themselves at you, begging you to sleep with them, wanting to make “gado-gado;” a half-Western, half-Balinese baby. This is fine if your biological clock is ticking and a gorgeous man you have known for one week staring into your eyes and telling you how much he’d love for you to carry his child really turns you on. All you have to do is build him a house (a modest one will do - the exchange rate is fabulous right now so three grand will see him happy) and unless you’ve got a real goer, you’ll be buying him food and cigarettes for the rest of your life. The baby can be optional, in case you don’t want another one so soon. He’ll be happy to take care of yours and will insist on earning his keep by staying up all night to please you. This can be exciting for a while. Some women choose to take the baby and run.
Which brings us back to the nanny. She and her extended family of thirty or so people will play with your child all day long and all night long if you want her to live with you. You’re off diaper duty for life. She’ll go to the market, wash clothes, cook, clean and make you wonder why you never thought of this before. All for about 200 times less than what it would cost you in the west.
Is this politically incorrect? Are you simply shifting your responsibilities onto someone else?
Could be. Heard of any good seat sales lately?
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