A Personal Reflection by Eiren. N. — Published on Medium
Before going further, I want to be clear that this essay is not directed against foreigners who choose to live and build a life here. Bali has long been shaped by exchange, curiosity, and shared experience, and many who arrive do so with respect and genuine care for the island and its people. This essay is instead an attempt to reflect on the changing realities of a place we now share. By bringing these issues into conversation, I hope to encourage reflection rather than division, and to ask how we might shape a future that feels fair and sustainable for everyone who calls this place home.
Paradise is often spoken about as if it belongs equally to all who arrive. Yet the question worth asking is whether it truly does.
So, who really benefits from paradise?
I was inspired to write this after a small but revealing moment that happened recently. I visited a laundry shop in my hometown, one that advertised eco-friendly services. When I arrived, one of the women working there asked, “Whose laundry is it, Miss?” I told her it was mine.
She paused, then gently explained that they did not accept laundry from locals. Their services, she said, were only for bule customers, as their expatriate boss had instructed them. I was surprised to learn that the owner was a foreigner, especially since neighbourhood laundry businesses are typically associated with Indonesia’s UMKM sector, traditionally intended for small enterprises run by Indonesians.
Although it seemed like an instant teleport back to the early 1900s, I remained calm and asked for clarification and whether I could speak to the owner. While attempting to contact her, two other women approached and began making unfriendly remarks. One commented that their services were expensive, implying that I might not be able to afford them. The conversation grew tense, and sensing that it would not lead anywhere constructive, I decided to leave.
A minute later, however, the owner called and kindly asked me to return so we could speak in person. When I came back, the atmosphere had shifted. Voices were raised, and when the interaction became physical rather than merely verbal, I began recording the situation on my phone.
When she arrived, she suggested we go elsewhere for coffee to talk. I politely declined. I wanted clarity, and I preferred to have the conversation there, in the space where the issue had occurred.
I had three questions. Had she truly instructed staff not to accept local customers, or had they acted independently? Why had such a decision been made, and on what basis? And how was it possible for a small neighbourhood business, typically associated with local micro enterprises, to be owned and operated in this way?
The incident stayed with me long after I left. What unsettled me was not only the interaction itself, but what it seemed to represent. A routine errand had revealed something larger about belonging, access, and who feels entitled to participate in everyday life.
This was not the first time such discomfort had surfaced. Many locals often notice similar patterns in daily life. Restaurants where pricing signals to indicate who is expected to enter. Beaches that are technically public yet feel increasingly regulated. Neighbourhoods are transforming so rapidly that long-time residents feel like visitors in places they once knew intimately. None of these moments alone appears dramatic, yet together they suggest a gradual shift in who spaces are designed to serve.
Seen individually, these experiences may appear incidental. Taken together, they begin to form a pattern.
Colonialism Without Colonies
To understand why these patterns feel familiar, it is necessary to revisit history.
Indonesia’s past was shaped by centuries of colonial rule under the Dutch, Portuguese, British, and Japanese powers. These systems created hierarchies that determined whose labour was valued, whose mobility was restricted, and whose access to resources was prioritised. Independence ended formal colonial governance, but historical structures often leave behind enduring habits of power and perception.
Today, inequality rarely appears through overt domination. Instead, it emerges subtly through economic systems, legal loopholes, and social expectations. Certain forms of privilege become normalised, not through explicit exclusion, but through practices that quietly determine who belongs and who does not.
In some contexts, these dynamics begin to resemble echoes of older hierarchies. Access may be shaped by nationality, wealth, or perceived status rather than shared citizenship or community ties. The result is not colonialism in its historical form, but a pattern that can feel structurally familiar, where influence concentrates among those with greater mobility and capital.
Recognising these echoes is not about assigning blame. It is about understanding how historical legacies and modern economic forces can intersect in ways that reproduce inequality even without deliberate intent.
Access, Exclusion, and the Politics of Space
Access to space is rarely neutral. Policies, pricing, and social norms shape who feels welcome and who does not.
Across Indonesia, access to beaches, resorts, restaurants, and even certain services is increasingly mediated by economic status and market positioning. Public spaces may remain legally open while becoming socially restricted through surveillance, pricing structures, or informal expectations. Exclusion often operates subtly, discouraging presence rather than explicitly denying entry.
Businesses frequently justify these practices as an economic necessity. Tourism generates demand, and markets respond accordingly. Yet when everyday environments begin to prioritise visitors over residents, the meaning of shared space changes.
Importantly, these outcomes are not produced solely by foreigners. Government regulation, investment incentives, local elites, and global tourism demand all interact to shape these realities. Systems function through cooperation between many actors, which makes responsibility complex and solutions equally so.
The question, therefore, is not who to blame, but how access is structured and who ultimately benefits.
The Real Cost
The consequences of these dynamics are tangible.
Housing provides one of the clearest examples. Rising property values and the expansion of short-term rentals have pushed living costs beyond the reach of many local families. Neighbourhoods evolve quickly, sometimes faster than communities can adapt, altering social networks built over generations.
Economic benefits from tourism are unevenly distributed. While some local entrepreneurs succeed, many workers remain concentrated in service roles with limited upward mobility. Seasonal price increases affect daily expenses, from transportation to food, placing additional strain on residents whose livelihoods depend on the same industry driving those increases.
Environmental pressures compound these challenges. Coastal development, land clearing, and infrastructure expansion reshape ecosystems that communities depend upon for protection and sustenance. These transformations often prioritise short-term gains over long-term resilience.
Socially, the effects are more difficult to measure but deeply felt. When locals perceive that spaces once shared are increasingly curated for outsiders, a subtle sense of displacement can emerge even without physical relocation.
The True Beneficiary
After examining historical context and modern mechanisms, the question becomes clearer. Who benefits most from paradise?
Locals provide the cultural foundation, labour, and hospitality that sustain tourism economies, yet financial rewards are often modest and uneven. Opportunities for advancement remain limited for many.
Foreign investors, developers, and segments of the global tourism economy frequently capture a larger share of economic value through property ownership, investment structures, and mobility advantages. At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that not all foreigners benefit equally, just as not all locals experience exclusion in the same way. Power operates through layered relationships involving governments, markets, and social networks.
What emerges is less a story of individuals and more a story of systems. Capital, mobility, and policy combine to shape who gains stability, who absorbs risk, and who adapts to change.
Recognising these dynamics is not an expression of resentment. It is a necessary step toward understanding how paradise functions as an economic and social reality rather than an idealised image.
Paradise, Reimagined
If paradise is to belong to everyone, its value cannot be measured solely through profit or exclusivity. It must also be measured through community well-being, environmental stewardship, and genuine accessibility.
Reimagining paradise requires thoughtful policy, responsible development, and cultural awareness from both residents and visitors. Public spaces must remain meaningfully public. Local communities must be able to thrive without being priced out of their own environments. Tourism must balance opportunity with responsibility, ensuring that growth does not erode the very culture and landscape that attract people in the first place.
Equally important is a cultural shift. Privilege often operates invisibly, sustained by habits rather than intention. Recognising these dynamics allows individuals, businesses, and governments to act more consciously and collaboratively.
Paradise is not a fixed destination but a living relationship between people, land, and culture. Its future depends on whether those who share it can also benefit from it.
The question raised by a simple visit to a neighbourhood laundry shop, therefore, extends far beyond one interaction. It asks whether paradise can remain a place of belonging rather than exclusion, a shared home rather than a curated experience.
The challenge is significant, but so is the opportunity. With reflection, fairness, and collective responsibility, paradise can become not something consumed, but something sustained together.
References:
Mullis, Brian. 2017. “The Growth Paradox: Can Tourism Ever Be Sustainable?” World Economic Forum. Retrieved from https://www.weforum.org/stories/2017/08/the-growth-paradox-can-tourism-ever-be-sustainable/
Pandit, I Gede Suranaya. 2025. “The Global Problem of Overtourism, and Why Bali Is at a Tipping Point.” The Jakarta Post, June 25. Retrieved from https://www.thejakartapost.com/opinion/2025/06/25/the-global-problem-of-over-tourism-and-why-bali-is-at-a-tipping-point.html
Reinhart, Christopher A. 2020. “The Changing Face of Indonesian Colonialism.” Medium. Retrieved from https://a-ch-reinhart.medium.com/the-changing-face-of-indonesian-colonialism-9c1660c29a2d
Suyadnya, I Wayan. 2019. “Tourism Gentrification in Bali, Indonesia: A Wake up Call for Overtourism.” Masyarakat: Jurnal Sosiologi, Universitas Indonesia. Retrieved from https://scholarhub.ui.ac.id/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1023&context=mjs
Thompson, Charlie Campbell. 2024. “Can Bali Ever Solve Its Overtourism Conundrum?” Time. Retrieved from https://time.com/7272442/bali-overtourism-tourist-tax-behavior-rules-foreign-visitors-economy-indonesia/
