Hawkers of Kuta

Sitting on the beach, supping a cold and very inexpensive beer, the ubiquitous hawkers landed on us like flies on shit. Every two seconds a new face would come up to us, trying to off-load fake watches, sarongs, jewellery, massages… you name it, it was there. The secret, I quickly discovered, is to say, ‘No thanks,’ firmly and repetitively, or even better a quick tidak (Indonesian for ‘no’). Wearing shades helps, as once they’ve got eye contact, they latch on like hyenas moving in for the kill, but the golden rule is not to start a conversation (unless, of course, you want to buy something) and not to tell them your name. Doug, in one of his most endearing features, couldn’t resist having a chat: he just loved to talk to people, and if there’s one thing that’s free in Bali, it’s a conversation involving one side trying to sell something, and another side trying to dump them politely. I sat back and watched the holes he and Emma dug get deeper and deeper: he ended up buying a massage he didn’t really want, and she bought an ankle necklace simply to get rid of the woman selling it. For some reason I wasn’t a target: my tidaks were obviously more final than Doug and Emma’s.
The whole day was constantly amazing. Waiting for our bus, we just watched the world go by: if money makes the world go round, then crazy places like Kuta make it turn a little faster, and the combination of canny
natives, dumb tourists and an attitude towards life that can only be found in places like Asia, and you have a cultural soap opera that never ceases to amaze. The littlest things become fascinating – the man in charge of parking motorbikes, the ticket touts who shout lewd comments at any girl in a miniskirt, the dogs eating discarded scraps in the streets, the taxis doing u-turns in the middle of the busiest road in Kuta, the Australian accents that the locals have adopted as a survival trait in the competitive street-selling environment – and I got the feeling this would continue throughout the country (something that proved to be spot on).
I found myself thinking that if I got this much of a buzz from Kuta, the most touristy place in Bali, then getting out into the sticks was really going to be something. I was right…