Johanna Son, Kuta – Nearly five months after the Bali bombing, the site of the blasts is curiously clean, areas of emptiness in stark contrast to the maze of stores, cafes and hotels that have long marked Indonesia's idyllic – and now wounded – haven for tourists.
Green sheets of galvanized iron fence off what was once the Sari Club, which was packed with mostly Australian tourists when the bombs went off on October 12 in Kuta district and killed 202 people from 20 countries. The area across the Sari Club, once Paddy's Bar, is empty too, save for young banana trees, planted, locals say, to ease the victims' entry into the next life.
A few tourists stop by the site, peering at the messages scribbled on a white cloth put up on the green fence. "Indonesians love peace," one of them says. Some half-wilted flower offerings for the dead lie against the fence. "The tragedy", one Balinese calls it. "The bomb", says another. "That incident", others say.
But whatever they call it, the October attacks remain very much with Bali, a majority-Hindu island of 3.4 million people off the eastern end of Java island in this predominantly Muslim country. Until the blasts, Bali had considered itself free from the violence that had hit other parts of Indonesia in the post-Suharto era.
Tourism is the most obvious casualty, with serious economic implications for an island that is heavily dependent on tourism and gets a million visitors a year. Bali accounts for 40 percent of Indonesia's more than US$5 billion earnings from tourism a year.
Now the streets of Kuta, a crowded hub of beaches, hotels and bars, are much more quiet, almost like a sleepy Sunday morning.
Tourists from Europe and Asia do come to such towns as Sanur and Ubud – Indonesian statistics say that in January, the largest group of tourists was Japanese, followed by Taiwanese and then Singaporeans, and Australians who brave the travel warnings.
But it is just not the same, sigh vendors of handicrafts, wood carvings, native batik textiles and other items.
"It's been two weeks and I have not been able to sell anything," said Christine, who has had to take a pay cut in the last few months. "My boss, he is angry at me because I have no sales." And when the vendors at Ubud central market do make sales, these days they seem to take more seriously the traditional ritual they make for better business – they tap the bills they receive on their goods for a longer time than they used to. "For good luck," they explain, "for good luck."
The Bali Hyatt hotel in Sanur has had to lay off more than 100 staff, about a quarter of its employees. Some wings of the hotel have been closed.
"Thirty percent occupancy is a very, very good rate at this time," said a hotel manager in the area. "Some have 20 percent, some have no guests."
Efforts are under way, from neighboring countries such as Singapore and Australia, to jump-start tourism. Since October, Bali has been visited by several Southeast Asian leaders in solidarity with Indonesia, and has hosted a range of international meetings and seminars. Tourist arrivals dropped by at least 60 percent – some say 90 percent – after the blasts, but Indonesian officials say arrivals started to pick up early this year.
"Maybe Asian tourists are braver than Westerners," remarked a vendor at the Ubud market. "The owners of these places [bars and cafes] do not know what they have to do to bring back the trust of tourists," a local journalist, Amul Huzmi, wrote in the Bali Today newspaper.
Asked whether Bali's tourism can go back to what it was before, taxi driver Nyoman Sudarman said, "It will take time."
But even time is going by fast, said Rucina Ballinger, a US-born dancer who now gives educational tours in Bali and has lived here for two decades. "There is a social bomb about to happen" if things do not improve economically, said Ballinger, who is married to a Balinese and has taken Indonesian citizenship.
Many are giving the economy a three-to-six-month space to recover after the blasts, and it is nearing the end of this period. Because Bali depends heavily on tourism, there is not much by way of an alternative to this trade. There is a bit of exports of furniture and wood products and textiles, but otherwise other people are in semi-subsistence agriculture.
Tourism also supports many small businesses, down to the production of flower garlands that adorn hotels to the taxi drivers who drive visitors around. Hotel and guesthouse employees rely more on the tips they get instead of their salaries. Ballinger says these contribute to the income they use for their families, or to carry out rituals that are so much a part of daily life in Balinese Hinduism – and have helped preserve a large part of the local culture in the face of mass tourism.
Thus, the damage to tourism in the wake of the October attacks has raised questions about overdependence on one industry and worries about the future. "Maybe we have too much of this, but right now I don't know what we are to do," commented a local resident.
Many Balinese have reacted not so much with anger at the bombers, which authorities put at 15 and say belong to radical Islamic groups from Java. But Ballinger said, "We looked inside and asked if we have too much tourism, and drugs and prostitution."
Perhaps part of their reaction to the wound caused by the October attacks has been to draw a clearer line between local Balinese and non-Balinese, especially those from the main island of Java. For instance, asked whether there is prostitution, a sales clerk said, "Yes – but the prostitutes are mostly from Java."
As Bali authorities prepare for the trial of the suspects in the bombings, a report last week from the English-language Jakarta Post newspaper said: "There has been tension in predominantly Hindu Bali toward the suspects and their lawyers, as most blame the bombing, which has crippled the economy, on Javanese Muslims."
Bali officials are keeping an eye on the suspicious entry of non-Balinese for fear of groups disrupting the trial, expected to start this month. Some 3,000 police officers, supported by the military and traditional Balinese security guards, are expected to provide security during the trial.
But Sudarman says there is no intention of revenge among him and his friends. Nevertheless, they talk about it in order to let their frustrations out, instead of turning violent.
"We talk about it because if we don't do it that way, there might be trouble. People joke and say, 'If we get our hands on you [the bombers], you'll see,'" he said. "But we just talk that way."