The Journal

Bali, Indonesia
February 15, 2000

 The Bali High--Bargaining

     When some people daydream of Bali, a mystical island fills the senses--brilliant emerald waters fringed by fine sandy beaches, deep jungle gorges where ferns grow four feet tall, terraced rice paddies forming stepping stones down the lush green hills, steaming volcanic craters, the sweet fragrance of frangipani everywhere, and exotic temples and festivals where gamalan music and lyrical dances abound.

      However, when others think of Bali, just one thing comes to mind: SHOPPING.  And  when they set out, empty shopping bag in hand, their mind is set and their mantra is clear: BARGAINING, BARGAINING, BARGAINING. They've been told over and over, there are bargains galore to be had in Bali.  But you never, repeat that, never, buy anything without first bargaining.  If you do, experts warn you, the natives are insulted. And you are a fool!

      So, at 11 a.m. on February 15, we viewed our first port on the island of Bali, but this village wasn't exactly where we had expected to dock. Situated between Java and Lompok, Bali is one of Indonesia's over 13,000 islands, that altogether stretch over 3,200 miles on the edges of the Indian and Pacific Oceans.

      We had been well prepared to dock on this fabled isle at one port, but found that the ship's draft was too deep to anchor there. Or so we were told.  (Some of us had heard that two bombs had gone off somewhere near the original port of call, and security measures were urgent, but we never verified that rumor.) In any case, the day before, we had gotten the message over the loudspeaker:
     "This is your captain speaking." (We were already familiar with his heavy Greek accent, spoken only for rare important statements.) At any rate, the plans for docking changed, and our new port was Padangbai, a harbor on the east side of the island.
      This change in ports led to revisions in our shore excursion plans--some tours to now too-remote places had to be cancelled.  However, since we were scheduled for a two-day stay on Bali, juggling our agendas wasn't a big deal.
      My plan was set:  I'd take a tour to Bali's scenic sites the first day, and then head off the second with a hired van and driver, with friends, Hoa, Jean, and Roy. Our plan: to visit fine wood and stone carving craftsmen in Mas and Batabulan, gold and silver artisans in the center of precious metals and jewelry making, Celuk, search for jackfruit in the chaotic local markets of Denpasar, and finally round out the day in Ubud, the cultural center of Bali--and a so-called shopping nirvana, where all of the above, and more, could be  bargained for and purchased--cheap.
      The Fact Sheet we received about Bali on shipboard should have alerted me to this common tourist compulsion to "shop 'til you drop." I noticed under "Useful Indonesian Phrases" the second word translated was no, "tidak," followed close on its heels by How much does it cost?, "Berapa harganya ini?", then, I don't want this: Saya tidak mau ini; and finally, I'm bankrupt!, Bankrupt!"
     So what's a poor tourist to do?  Of course, support the local Balinesian economy which has a GDP per capita of $3,770 U.S. (1996).
     On Tuesday, February 15, a misty high humidity day in the low nineties, the 600 passengers of the Ocean Explorer set out to satisfy their their heart's desire: to experience  Bali's rich arts, music and dance cultures and colorful temple festivals-- and then stroll through the markets, stall and shops set back in dusty courtyards to bargain for silver and gold jewelry, beautiful batik fabric, and brilliantly carved and painted masks as they exercised their urge to "shop 'til you drop."
     And so they did.
     Bargaining is an art. And we learned fast.  How to do it; how to not do it by staring into the distance or pushing away the vendors; and how later to explain how much we paid for an item that, almost always, your best friend had purchased for half the price.
     Take pareos--sarongs of beautiful batik fabrics--a specialty of Bali. One guy on the ship came back with 26.  I didn't ask him how  much they cost.  But on the Parangbai dock the vendors swarmed like ants over honey, and insistent sarong-selling women were everywhere--and so were their experienced vendor children.  Sarongs flapping in the brisk breeze on carts, clothes lines, and women's arms sold for prices starting maybe at $15 or
$20. Most often, you could get one for $5.  But when you got back on the boat, you would find your table mate had purchased one just like it for$3.
     And watches. Thousands of watches in wooden boxes for sale by little boys.  Rolex. Seiko. Just $20 dollah.  No, you'd say. I don't want one.$10 dollah.  No, you'd walk away. Three boys follow you pushing at you open boxes each containing 50 watches.  Just $10 dollah.  I give you two for $20. A bahgain.  No, you say. I don't want one.  You walk further away.  $5 dollah.  I give it away at $5 dollah, one kid says.  See? Genuine Rolex.    $5 dollah?  Let me see.  Does it work?  How's the strap?  OK.  $5 dollah.
     OK, boss.  $5 dollah.  How about two?  You want two?  $10 dollah. One fellow that I knew bought four watches. My friend Jean bought one. Another friend borrowed a $20 bill from me so he could  bargain better for a heavy "genuine" Rolex that did everything.  He only had a $50 bill and knew he couldn't bargain with that big a bill.  My $20 bill worked. He bought the genuine Rolex with everything electronic for $32--and paid me
 back my $20 that night.
     Then there was my friend HOA.  She wanted a large handsome coconut serving spoon and stopped to look at a bunch of them displayed on a rug on the dock.  (She had already bought seven engraved leather barrettes for her hair for around $3.) She had eyed the coconut serving spoons several times earlier that day.  Now was her last chance. We were leaving Padangbai in an hour.  She stopped and held up one spoon.  $10 dollah was the woman's offer. $1 dollah, said Hoa.  No, said the woman.  HOA walked away.  It is common practice when that happens that the vendor follows you.  The woman didn't follow.  HOA was surprised; she turned around and walked back.  $1 dollah, she said again.
     OK, said the woman.  $1 dollah.  HOA bought the coconut spoon.  As she turned to leave, another vendor walked up.  She had two coconut spoons.$1 dollah for two, she said.  HOA bought them.  Immediately, another vendor was waiting.  She stepped up with four spoons.  Four for $1 dollah, she said. HOA couldn't resist.  She bought four more.  Eventually, she ended up with 13 spoons she is taking home for just over $5.
     And so it went.
     I bought a Balinese cotton batik dress at the dock.  I couldn't try it on, but I bought it for $5.  It fit just fine and was very cool.  I wore it to dinner.  There were eight just like it.  Several people said they paid$3 for theirs.  Then there were the quilted cotton duffle bags.  $20 dollah was the first price. My friend Jackie bought a large one for $3.  I liked it. I bought one also for $3.  Back on the ship a friend complained he didn't have enough room for all the tee shirts he had bought along the way.  I said, why don't you go down the gangplank to the dock and buy a batik duffle bag? He did and came back soon.  He had one just like mine.  How much? I asked.$5dollah, he said proudly.  I didn't tell him I had bargained mine down to$3.
      I won't dwell on other successful bargaining where people brought back exquisite silver and gold jewelry, handsome wood carvings, and masks, bamboo wall hangings, colorful Balinese puppets and butterfly kites. Or tee shirts and fabulous batik sarongs.
      Don't get me wrong. We did more than shop.  We ate Indonesian food too. Five of us had a fabulous lunch in Ubud. On Monkey Forest Road, in a lovely garden restaurant, we ordered cold drinks and betutu bebeck (duck roasted in banana leaves), beef and chicken satay (meat on skewers with peanut sauce--my favorite in Washington D.C.) and nasi goreng, spicy rice and vegetables. The total for five came to $10.  (In typical tourist fashion we were prepared to pay $10 apiece, until our driver, whom we had taken to lunch, said, no, it's $10 for all five!)
      We should be so lucky in the U.S.
      Now it's on to Java.  I'm shopped out. You wanna buy a beautiful Balinese sarong?  I give it to you cheap.