Raking
it In
The lively Beat
Daily, the online news update produced by the chaps behind the bi-weekly
entertainment glossy, had an interesting item recently, sourced from the local
Bahasa press, though not – read on – the Bali Post: the 2012 Top 10 corporate
rich kids on the block, those earning between Rp100 billion and Rp1 trillion.
It bears noting that this is corporate, not personal, wealth, lest anyone
starts to get jealous, or overly socialistic, or is tempted to formulate
invidious comparisons.
In any case, there is nothing wrong with
having a lot of money, provided it has been acquired lawfully and is made fully
available to comply with whatever tax law applies in the jurisdiction in which
it is enjoyed. Though one might add that therein lies the rub.
It is no surprise that Kadek Wiranatha and his brother Gede Wiratha, the
local success story writ large, again top the list. They own the Bounty Group
and a diverse portfolio of companies operating taxis, food exports and property
(and the newspaper in which this diary appears).
Also no surprise to the Diary is that the Ramayana group, headed by Putu
Gde John Poets and owner among other things of Pepito supermarkets and the Mini
Mart chain, comes in at No. 2. Given the mark-up on Nescafé Classic
instant coffee at Pepito outlets – nearly 27 percent on the price of the
product at other retailers and even more than that at, for example, Hypermarket
– it’s no surprise they rake in the local shekels by the shovel-load. It’s a
bit rich because Nescafé Classic, while modestly aromatic and fully
satisfying, is hardly a premium brand; it’s just your regular kitchen jar of
instant partial nirvana.
Wayan Kari’s Waka group was third; Ida Bagus Putra’s Santrian group fourth;
and then in descending order Hadi Wirawan’s Suzuki empire, Ubud royal Cokde
Tjok Oka Artha (Tjampuhan), Tomy Raka,
Kelompok Usaha Keluarga, the Bali
Post group, and Anak Agung Sukadhana (his AAA Kusemas group operates mines,
petrol stations and a laundry business).
Such
a Shame
Serambi Arts Antida, the great alternative
art space in Denpasar, has closed its doors. Apparently the two joint owners of
the premises had different ideas about how to capitalise on it. One wanted to
sell the property and no compromise could be found.
It opened in 2010 and among other things hosted this year’s Bali
Emerging Writers Festival – in late May – which is a spin-off from the annual
Ubud Writers and Readers Festival. Organiser Antida Darsana used Facebook to
tell everyone who’s going to miss the space created for artists, musicians and
students how much he regretted “that a valuable space for creativity, art, and
culture cannot be maintained in Denpasar.”
He added: “We will surely rise again to continue our idealism to develop arts and culture in Bali. We may, for the moment, be homeless, but we have not lost our spirit.”
He added: “We will surely rise again to continue our idealism to develop arts and culture in Bali. We may, for the moment, be homeless, but we have not lost our spirit.”
Alternative arts need far-seeing sponsors. Are there any local fat-wallets
around – the recent Rich List might point to a name or two – whose skill in
acquiring billions of rupiah for their businesses could be turned (in a very
minor way after all) to useful philanthropic effect?
Onya,
Sonya
The excellent Strewth diary in The
Australian – both it and the newspaper, which (disclosure) we should note is run
by Hector’s former colleague Chris Mitchell, are required reading for those
with an Aussie bent, albeit online if you live outside the Odd Zone – had a
lovely little item the other day. It was headed Transporting Type and is worth
reproducing unabridged, without further comment:
At an inner Sydney gig on Sunday night, musician Kim Sanders – a
practitioner of world music, if you'll allow the term – had just finished
wowing the audience with a piece of Sufi music on his ney, a type of Turkish
flute. It was beautiful, bordering on the ethereal, and when he stopped, there
was a sense the audience was still suspended in mid-air, held by the coils of
the ney's voice. Careful not to break the mood, Sanders introduced the next
piece in almost a whisper. One of his own compositions he explained, inspired
by a poem whose intensity, longing and passion had moved his heart and his
imagination profoundly. He'd read it only once, he explained, as it was written
on the back of a passing bus – the 473, no less. He proceeded to recite it in
its entirety: "Sonya, Sonya, let me onya." Which makes haiku look
long-winded in comparison. Sanders got a great tune out of it.
Old
Friends
We had old friend Ross Fitzgerald to lunch
at The Cage recently. He was staying in Ubud – he and his wife Lyndal Moor have
been Bali visitors for 20 years or more and always stay in the attractively
royal ambiance of the Pura Saraswati hotel right in the middle of town – and
drove all the way down to the Bukit (and back) for a bite and chat. It takes a
true friend to do that, given today’s traffic conditions.
Fitzgerald is a professor of history and author or co-author of 35
books, the most recent being Fool’s Paradise, a fictional rendition of
political events in the Australian state of Queensland that was long in the
making because when first written it was met with horror by publishers who
didn’t want to be sued by the non-fictional moulds from which Fitzgerald formed
his characters.
Among the several tales told over lunch – they mainly concerned mutual
colleagues and friends – was one lovely little story. He had to get back to
Ubud early because he was giving a talk to a group of Indonesians (only men and
from Bali and Java chiefly) who had recognised that they were addicted to alcohol.
One of Fitzgerald’s books is My Name is Ross, the story of how he beat
potentially lethal alcoholism. He hasn’t touched a drop in more than 40 years
and still attends meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous regularly.
He was giving his talk, he said, because Indonesians here don’t attend
AA meetings, or not in significant numbers, and the chap who organised the
meeting got the idea from reading a review of Fitzgerald’s book written some
time ago by none other than your diarist. It was in Another Newspaper.
We’re sure the talk went well. Fitzgerald is an amusing raconteur.
All
A-buzz
Marie Bee, who writes for the
French-language monthly journal La Gazette de Bali and continuously
demonstrates that she made very good use of her university days in
Aix-en-Provence, is not a person on whom it would be wise to waste a fallacy.
So it was interesting to read in the June edition of La Gazette, in her
Ubud column, that she had been to Anand Krishna’s ashram there and found a
lingam in residence. The busy little Bee pointed out immediately, lest
Francophone readers get quite the wrong idea, that it is not there in the
sexual sense that so fixates people today – lingam massage being billed as the
art of penis worship – but in its original meaning: the creative power.
Cleaning
Up
World Ocean Day on June 8 got a welcome
boost worth US$10,000 – that’s around Rp90 million give or take an exchange
slip or two – from Blue Season Bali’s effort on the day that helped clean up
the Sanur beach and raised funds through a fun scheme (though perhaps not entirely
novel in Indonesia) under which people could bribe their way out of jail. The
jail operated at the evening BBQ and was guarded by a local police officer who played
the role of jailer. Guests paid for their “friends” to be thrown into jail and
they then had to raise money to “bribe” the jailer to be released.
Captain
Who?
We were planning to end this edition’s
diary with a little joke, just to give readers a giggle. We had one all set –
don’t worry, it won’t date – when the thought occurred that there was a real
joke we should tell instead. It concerns Captain Emad, real name Ali al-Abassi,
the well known Iraqi people smuggler who when he arrived on one of the boats
from Indonesia that he’d organised fooled the gullible Aussies into believing
he was an asylum seeker. They gave him a visa (of course) and, not to gild the
lily, a measure of public assistance.
But – shock, horror – the poor dears are now thinking of cancelling his
refugee visa after he was outed by the ABC TV current affairs show Four Corners
as still, shall we say, somewhat active in the illegal business of putting
desperate people on leaky boats to Australia, land of plenty.
The day after the programme aired he left Australia, the plods
conspicuously not in pursuit. Oddly, though, he was already a person of
interest. Police had raided his home some time before armed with a drug
warrant.
But we can tell them that well before the Four Corners exposé, he
was seen in Senggigi, Lombok, with a group of fawning Iranians who seemed all
to be hoping to pin little kangaroo badges on themselves soon, and that this
was reported. Our source was not official and the sighting was reported through
civilian contractor channels, not direct to the authorities. But we are
confident the circumstances were as described. It is also clear no one in
authority in Australia bothered to check effectively. 8degreesoflatitude
Hector’s Diary appears in the print edition of the Bali Advertiser, published every second Wednesday, and on this Blog. The Diary also appears at 8degreesoflatitude. Hector is on Twitter (@scratchings) and Facebook (Hector McSquawky).
