Canggu Lyfe

We spent the last two nights of our 2022 January Bali trip in Canggu. The least affected area by the pandemic lockdowns’ economic downturn. Other areas like Ubud, Kuta, and Legian withered away; Canggu became the home of many superclass migrants: Western and Russian digital nomads, Jakarta’s HENRYs and trust fund babies.

Many of the digital nomads are staying under a ‘talent’ visa: surfers, models, DJs, social media influencers, and life coaches. They are 10/10: six pack abs and round titties with peach butts. I was so insecure with my body to swim with Canggu hunks and babes.

They are the generic standards of beautiful people. I imagine LA must be like Canggu now, but these foreign migrants do not need to wait tables while waiting for their big break–like the prom kings and queens of hick countries in Hollywood. With their dollars, euros, and rubles generated from online business they are trickling down their wealth to the local economy.

All of these expats are mostly white. If Hitler came to Canggu AC (After Coronavirus), he’d prove his point about white supremacy (or he’d be baffled because most of these models and influencers are slavic untermenschen?). 

I feel like an NPC around them.

Our best friends moved to Canggu from Jakarta in 2020. ‘The parties here make me insecure with my body shape,’ said Angga. But Toby, being Norwegian therefore less affected by the inlander mentality, thinks that the Canggu hunks and babes are so generic therefore uncharismatic. They are like DJ Fingablast in The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. 

But still, they’d make you feel like the ugly duckling. Angga even chose F45 over CrossFit because the participants are less body conscious.

Angga and Toby become pawrents. They adopted Putih, a local stray, and were forced to adopt Raja (rescued by their mutual friend but cannot afford dog rearing). They even enrolled their dogs in a dog club, and have playdates with other dog owners. They really yielded the twenty-something lifestyle they managed to keep (despite pushing forties).

Now let’s talk about the HENRYs. Higher education in the world’s best universities; professionals or high ranking executives in tech companies or consulting firms–therefore can work remotely. Engineers, designers, or in-house counsels. Knowledge workers with fat salaries. 

Our best friends are the archetype of HENRYs. Devoted to having a youthful lifestyle with the financial security of bapak-bapak. Childless (dogs are cheaper than human babies) and non-subscribers of Indonesian family values. Multicultural, interracial. Their discussions range from quantum science to explain our existential angst, NFTs, how to build a working hedonist commune in Bali if Jakarta sinks, mental illness, socio-economic stereotypes, and occasionally RuPaul. 

Their entire team of designers moved to Bali–even though officially their offices stay in Jakarta. Canggu offers them Jakarta high lifestyle with lower costs, cleaner air and sans Jakarta traffic. 

We had dinner at their Canggu home. They lived in a two bedroom apartment unit in Jakarta. In Canggu, the same rent cost allows them to live in a three bedroom villa with a private swimming pool

Alcohol is cheaper in Bali; they drink more but they party much less and lead a more active lifestyle with less stress. They walk their dogs at many of Bali’s public beaches everyday. So they are in better shape than they were in Jakarta (it’s just that they compare themselves with Canggu hunks now).

Whenever we hangout at one of Canggu establishments, we can be models for university brochures. Most peer groups in Canggu, despite being an international hub, are monoracial: all bules (whites), all cindos (Chinese Indonesians), or all pribumis (‘native’ Indonesians–brown). If only our cindo and African friends are with us, we’d be a complete colour palette for diversity initiatives.

Canggu homes and hotels are advertised as abodes of paradise: minimalist architecture and interior design mixed with tropical vibe inspired by traditional Balinese or Rio style—that pastel colours synchronised with brown woods and rattans sit nicely with brutalist grey. Did I mention a private swimming pool?

Instagrammable indeed. But before you dive in and sign the tenancy agreement (or sale and purchase), take the time to visit and actually live in the property. Canggu properties often sacrifice construction quality for that Insta-worthy looks. The tap water is trickling; when it rains (and by rain, it can mean torrential tropical rain) the ceilings leak; the electricity can be unreliable and the electrical wiring is outright hazardous; un-neighbourly neighbours and small potholed access roads. If you are urbanites uninitiated with nature you might be annoyed by bugs and vermin. A giant lizard may swim in your pool–on a regular basis.

The hotel we were staying at, Shore Amora, has that definite Canggu vibe. The interior design has an open plan, but never forget to close your balcony or semi-outdoor bathroom doors. The mosquitos will invade your room (mosquito coils are available though). 

Shore Amora was opened in 2019. Six-months before the pandemic hits. Their service is slow (must be understaffed). Located in Pererenan Beach–15 minutes from Canggu centre–the hotel enjoys the quiet side of Canggu. The best way to navigate Canggu, and Bali as an island, is to drive mopeds. But if you can’t brave Balinese riding style and road hazards, taxi and ride-hailing services are widely available.

Before the pandemic, the conventional taxi services and the ride hailing app drivers had territorial turf war (not violent, the Balinese know that safety and security are assets in the tourism industry). The drivers can only pick up guests and passengers within their outfit’s territories. But after the lockdowns, they came together and removed the strict enforcement on such conventions.

The taxi drivers also came together and ended the price war started by the ride-hailing companies. Gocar and Grabcar and Blue Bird taxis can pick up passengers from the airport but with the same fees.

We took an antigen test at Omsa Clinic as a flying prerequisite. The clinic is staffed by two persons, they take turns in doing the administrative work and the tests. They are not provided with full set PPE, just masks and gloves. The clinic services are inefficient. We had to wait for more than an hour when there were only two people before us. We filled in paper forms which were then typed to the clinic’s computer (no wonder there were typo errors which can cause failure to link with the Indonesian Government’s Covid-19 tracing app Peduli Lindungi). But the clinic charges more than big test labs in Jakarta. I can imagine their profits with lower overhead costs (labour and rent in Bali are cheaper than Jakarta, plus they don’t spend on proper PPEs and IT infrastructure for the online forms).

Another example of Bali’s lack of infrastructures. Medical services in Bali are even below Jakarta standards. The new private hospital, branched from Jakarta, charges a premium—especially if you’re an expat. In any way, most of the locals cannot afford going there.

Bali is good for anything fun, but for anything serious it is still at ‘daerah’ (provincial) quality. Indonesia’s best doctors, engineers, and lawyers are still based in Jakarta. Specifically for the legal industry, there are few Balinese lawyers who can speak English. Compare that to the tourism industry, where Balinese guides and drivers can speak not just English, but other European languages and Japanese and Korean.

Balinese Hinduism has its appeal. A derivative of Indian Hinduism, it survived the Arabisation (Islamisation) of Java. It held onto its Sanskrit roots. As an oriental religion, Hinduism is much less anal retentive compared to Semitic religion. Its concept of good and evil is more nuanced, less black and white—it emphasises cosmic balance rather than retribution and rewards to right and wrongdoing.

Yet the rituals are more taxing. Yes, they seem grandiose and exotic–photogenic. But the rituals impose lots of social obligations, particularly to women. They ensure cohesion in Balinese communities but at the same time restricts the individuals. Ngaben (Balinese cremation ceremony) is expensive, family members may have to borrow money to pay for it. In [ritual] days, you have to bless your motor vehicles. If you are absent from your village’s ceremonies too many times, no one will help your funeral.

The rituals must take precedence over productivity, or even the public’s right to access roads. Bali has the most bank holidays in Indonesia to allow their people time for religious obligations. Roadblocks are common if a village is convening religious ceremonies (but then, Islamists in Jakarta do that too–but lack the grace and charm, also often illegal).

Still, the Indonesian government’s strategy to develop Bali as the country’s primary tourism destination was culturally and geographically on point. Indonesia, the Dutch East Indies, has always been Java-centric. Java is the most institutionalised region in Indonesia. Javanese ancient Sanskrit kingdoms were powerful. Khmer kings sent their brahmins to study in Javanese universities. The Mongol Empire’s invasion was repelled. The Europeans were successful in colonising Java only by cooptation with local rulers competing for power.

After the Islamisation of Java, the old Hindu aristocrats fled to Bali with their courtiers. Java was then ruled by the upstart Muslim rulers. No wonder Javanese nobilities have less class. If you visit Keraton Yogyakarta, you’d see that it does not compare with Ubud Palace, designed by the maestro Lempad.

Hinduism is less ‘puritanical’ than Islam. It is not anti-fun. Drinking, gambling, sex are considered vices only if done with excess. The caste system ensures subserviency in hospitality. Islamic culture is not suitable for the tourism industry. On the other hand, East Indonesia, with a predominantly Christian population, is underdeveloped. The culture lacks institution; Papua is still a hunter-gatherer society.

Bali is, geographically, at the centre of Indonesia. The traditional culture is ancient and sophisticated. Its exhibition of rituals and dances will draw any voyeuristic western travellers looking for oriental exoticism. In exchange, the Balinese adopt the worldliness (and consumerist attitude) brought by the travellers. Many Balinese, especially those in the tourism industry, are more fluent in English and Indonesian. They also do business with Australia, Europe, and Japan–not just with Jakarta.

Yet still, the locals’ living standards are low. Even the nasi campur joints offer local prices for the locals. This discriminatory pricing may seem advantageous to the locals, but it speaks volume on their buying power. We, as holiday makers, benefit the most from such economic asymmetry. I often feel uneasy with such inequality. It is easy to accuse many foreign (white) tourists of acting like colonisers (and some do), but what about us Jakartans?

Our stay in Canggu is about catching up with Angga and Toby. We had dinners at their Canggu home and BuReka Bistro. Lunches at Mauri and Mason. The Woke Salaryman has a point: once you have reached your first $100K everything in life becomes easier. We earn so much more in our late 30s but only spend slightly more than in our late twenties. We can take more career and investment risks. We know what we don’t want, therefore know better of our needs and wants. We can focus our spending on what matters for us.

We had breakfast at Baked and watched influencers at work. It is impressive how fast they can edit their videos on the go (#terbaked). We had coffee at Monsieur Spoon Pererenan. It was a sunny day, with a nice gentle tropical breeze. We walked the beach after that, people watching. Locals and expats taking their kids and dogs, eating pork satays or grilled corn with cold Bintang beers. To gaze at the vastness of the Indian Ocean made me less encumbered by my thoughts and emotions.

I can live here.

Pererenan Road