Xenophobia's Paradox

Breakfast comprised an oddly comforting assortment of garlicky creamed corn, sticky rice and boiled egg this morning. The corn was made creamy with coconut milk and a squeeze of lime juice to cut through the fattiness. Using up things in the fridge is always a challenge I relish, but tends to result in odd meals.

Creamed corn. Yum?

In our last couple of days in Bali, and also in SE Asia, it seems as though we should be making the most of what the island, and this area of the world, has to offer. This is a familiar feeling from exiting other countries on our trip, and risks becoming a feeling of limbo as we anticipate and plan for our next move - in this case heading to Australia, initially landing in Sydney.

Of course, we could choose to move on before now, circumventing the next few days of aimlessness. In theory, our flights are flexible, but in practice the cost and effort of changing plans mean that we typically see out our arranged schedule. Besides, we need the time to plan and reconfirm flights, hotels and other travel plans, as well as to get excited about what the new locality will be like.

Our journey through SE Asia - taking in Southern Vietnam, Cambodia, Southern Thailand, Western Malaysia, and Bali - has been a fascinating experience. Having the opportunity to soak up the life and atmosphere in each location before leaving, rather than rushing from place to place, has revealed certain similarities and differences across the countries. Similarities are to expected, especially as many neighbouring countries resulted from the same historical empires, or have subsequently imported influences over the border from one another, or been subject to change by an outside force (e.g. China, India, or Europe).

Bali has been a hard place to get to know. It has offered some of the most exhilarating and memorable moments of our trip so far, but has also been one of the places with which we have found it hardest to get to grips.

Thinking about Bali and the other places we have visited, certain characteristics stand out to me. The following is not meant as a representation of the individual people I have met, who have been friendly, happy, extremely hard working, and, for the most part, honest. Instead, it is an attempt to characterise the differences I perceive between the nations. Some might call it glib, reductionist, and probably unhelpful anthropomorphic stereotyping, but some people are too sensitive (and seem to have swallowed a dictionary).

Bali I see as a character of a middle-aged, work-weary man. His once quiet and serene life, full of order, colour, a healthy environment and family is slowly being overtaken by traffic, pollution and noise. The things he loves and holds most dear are being subordinated to a pressured sense of having to progress. Progress, he thinks, seems to have come out of nowhere. It seemed like a good idea at the time, when people came and took an interest in him. For a while, things were quite exciting, but modern life seems to have got the better of him and is, well, a bit rubbish. He is probably separated from his family for much of the time. He still recalls the traditions of his ancestors and the heyday of his youth, but somehow he finds himself stuck on a path that he is not sure he wants to be on. For too long, he has let people take him for granted and he is concerned about where it might lead. I would say he is heading for a breakdown and, if he were a friend of mine, I would be having a word to help limit the damage from the processes already set in motion.

Thailand strikes me as a young woman, who is naturally and effortlessly devastatingly attractive, laid-back and easy-going, but a little listless and feckless with it. While not well off, money seems to be coming in from somewhere, which has led her to be complacent. She is a hedonistic person, parties a lot, but also sleeps a fair amount if she can get away with it.

Cambodia gives the impression of a tragically desperate woman. Although beautiful, her difficult past threatens to blight her future and her situation leaves her vulnerable to exploitation by others. In response, she is often the one to react first, in defence, biting the hand of those that try to help. She makes herself difficult to love, perhaps because she finds loving herself just as hard.

Vietnam is certainly a young and thrusting man, who is idealistic, optimistic, and full of hope about the future. He is hardworking, industrious, and inventive and has countless ideas about how he is going to improve himself and show the world what he is made of.

Malaysia comes across as a 30-something man or woman, who is comfortable in their own skin. They are happily rolling along, seeing where life takes them. They really enjoy art and nature, and food - mostly food. They don't mind having noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And maybe just a small slice of cake. They are wise and tolerant of others. Funnily enough, this was the place we felt most at home.

So, there you are. Five nations caricatured in as many paragraphs. Frankly, with that kind of writing, I'm surprised that Private Eye hasn't picked me up yet. Or the Daily Mail for that matter. I could have a column called "Reasons to be Fearful", or "Xenophobia's Paradox", and engage in some wonderfully fallacious reductio ad absurdum arguments about the relative merits or otherwise of foreign cultures. For example, "if any other country had anything of greater cultural worth than Britain already has, we would long ago have colonised said country and claimed whatever it was for the good of the empire."

Meanwhile, back on planet Earth, in Bali, our funds and provisions were rapidly diminishing and we required sustenance. We dithered for approximately two seconds before unanimously deciding on tahu tek from our favourite local, Warung Mantap.

Good honest food at Warung Mantap

The husband and wife partnership seamlessly coordinated to fry the tofu and egg, snip it up with rice cake, and package it with beansprouts and a spicy peanut sambal. It was every bit as good as last time.