On a recent trip to Bali, Travel writer Sarah Pollok partakes in a local Balinese practice and navigates the increasingly murky waters of cultural engagement - without crossing a line.
I’m standing beneath a canopy of trees in Jungutan Village, a community far from the busy cities of Seminyak and Ubud, in Bali’s eastern Karangasem district -- and I am deeply uncomfortable.
The discomfort is not because it’s 32 degrees or 90 per cent humidity. It’s not because I’m kneeling back on my feet in a pose I know is nicknamed “broken toe” in yoga or because water is being flicked across my face in front of a dozen bystanders.
No, I’m uncomfortable because I’m participating in a sacred water blessing with a local priest, dressed head-to-toe in elaborate Balinese clothing while an audience takes photos.
That I’m accompanied by three other unmistakably white tourists both makes it better and worse. There’s solidarity in the awkwardness and yet, it looks much more like a poorly made group decision I’d be all too quick to condemn on social media.
More specifically, we are at Samsara Living Museum, an incredible initiative founded to help support the rural community and educate visitors about the Balinese way of life. As special guests, our visit involved a special “photo shoot” in traditional outfits, something we were told as a guide ushered us towards a hut, where a team of four small, sturdy women wrapped, pinned, plaited and brushed us into the regional outfit called Payas Lkasik Madya Karangasem.
At first, dressing up felt like a unique honour; a rare chance to immersively experience and understand Balinese culture through its clothing. Uncomfortable only insofar as it was to stand in front of strangers with only your underwear and a language barrier between you.
It was only minutes later, when we were shepherded towards a forest clearing, arranged into poses and handed props, things started to feel problematic. Looking at one another and smiling —as per the photographer’s earnest instruction— I couldn’t help but see how this photo would look on the internet, stripped of context and open to the world’s ruthless interpretation.
All I can say is, if I saw a group of European tourists laughing as they appeared to play Balinese village, the words “cultural appropriation” would be less a thought than a knee-jerk response.
“This is absolutely going to get us cancelled,” I mumbled through a smile, earning a nervous laugh from my group.
Yet, looking out towards the small crowd of locals and Indonesian tour guides, we were met with a wall of beaming faces.
Their abject joy helped me exhale and embrace what was a precious and memorable experience, but a trace of unease remained. So, as we clambered back into the car later that day, I asked our Balinese tour guide Kesawa how he felt about tourists dressing up and participating in traditional ceremonies.
He wasted no time in putting my fears to rest. “People love it,” he exclaimed with an easy grin, as if this was the only obvious answer. Balinese people are happy to welcome tourists to the island, he added, but seeing them engage with their traditions was even better.
“When you come, they are happy, when you enjoy their culture they are very happy,” he said. “When you appreciate our culture, we appreciate you.”
“It’s okay, yes yes yes,” echoed Meiko Hiroko, a member of Indonesia’s Ministry of Tourism, as we zoomed past quaint roadside villages and thick tropical forests.
According to Kasawa and Meiko, Samsara Living Museum’s activities were simply an immersive way to learn about (and thus, respect) the local way of life. We were, according to them, in the clear. But what about future experiences abroad? How could I ensure appreciation didn’t become appropriation?
What is cultural appropriation?
Simply put by Erich Hatala Matthes, a professor of cultural ethics and something of an expert on the topic, cultural appropriation is “the taking or use of the cultural products of ‘cultural insiders’ by ‘cultural outsiders’”.
As some may notice, the phrase isn’t explicitly negative (not all appropriation is misappropriation), but according to Matthes, who works at Wellesley College in Massachusetts, the phrase has developed negative connotations in casual conversation.
That the exceptionally complex topic is discussed in casual conversation is a relatively new development. Exceptionally complex, it was once exclusively found in academic textbooks and has only become watercooler chat amongst everyday folk in the past few decades.
This isn’t to say people have not inappropriately borrowed another culture’s clothing, rituals, practices or cuisine for centuries. But rather, we’ve only started openly discussing how this can be problematic since around the 1990s.
The more controversial instances are easy to spot; sports teams using Native American icons as mascots, getting a Polynesian tattoo because the designs “look cool” or wearing blackface to a costume party.
But what about more subtle instances or ones facilitated by members of the cultural group, like the Balinese locals at Samsara Living Museum?
The issue with refusal
In an essay on cultural appropriation, Chinese-American writer Connie Wang said even discussions about the phrase have been turned “radioactive” by polarised political groups.
“The most vitriolic on the left suggest that any cultural swapping is tantamount to acts of visual racism; that using symbols without permission is always bad and those [who] do it should be condemned without mercy,” she wrote in 2018.
Meanwhile, the political right “believe that cultural appropriation is a meaningless phrase that wilfully ignores intent; that people should have the right to celebrate what they find beautiful without criticism or abuse”.
Understandably, this leads to travellers like myself feeling hesitant to participate (or even witness) another culture in action, lest I be caught on the wrong side of the line.
However, refusing an invitation on the grounds of cultural appropriation can be its own kind of problem, says Matthes
Using geisha makeovers in Japan as an example, the professor explains how refusal can amount to dictating what another culture can and cannot share.
“If you have cases where people in Japan or China are inviting tourists to wear this clothing, to refuse because you’re worried about cultural appropriation ends up being its own kind of troubling assertion of authority,” he told CNN.
Refusal can also have adverse economic consequences for rural communities or artisans who depend on sharing their culture with tourists. This is certainly the case in Bali and especially at Samsara Living Museum, which was founded with the explicit intention to share Balinese food, clothing, religious rituals and experiences with visitors in order to financially support the community.
How to engage with culture respectfully
Ask who has the power
Heated debates about regional foods or sacred practices within the context of cultural appropriation aren’t really about these things, but how their use represents power; who has it, who has historically held it and how it is used.
Belonging to the group that “has power” contextually or historically does not prohibit you from participating in another group’s culture. But it should prompt you to take additional care and seek counsel beforehand and during.
Check your why
If you are eager to learn a dance, visit a temple or wear an outfit from a culture you do not belong to, it’s important to first ask “why?”. The answer will dictate whether you should proceed.
Is it because you want to fully experience a culture in order to better understand or respect it? Or is it because it’s aesthetically pleasing or will gain attention (be it through beauty, shock or humour) amongst friends or on social media?
As one can guess, the latter reasons are reasons to question your intentions and perhaps pursue a different activity.
Seek out authenticity
Writing in the Yale Daily about cultural appropriation and misappropriation, Sejal Vallabg states: “In order to retain the integrity of the world’s cultures, it is crucial we seek out authenticity.”
If tourists flock to watered-down, commodified versions of cultural products, whether it’s an overly-simplified dance or knock-off artefacts, these are what a destination will often provide. Fortunately, as tourists, we can flip the script. Genuine, appropriate experiences and items may cost a little more or be further from the beaten track but will ensure we’re supporting a healthy, respectful cultural experience.
Listen to the experts
Finally, if in doubt, ask the experts, who are often the members of a cultural group. No single person can speak for an entire community but those on the “inside” as Matthes says, can provide a more informed perspective if you’re unsure.
“Try to be deferential to those who have the cultural experience and knowledge,” Matthes told CNN. “Listen to what they’re telling you about how to wear the clothes or how to act respectfully within that context.”
To learn more about Samsara Living Museum, visit samsarabali.com
