The Eat Pray Love Phenomenon

Stop Eleven, Ubud, Bali (17/06/2015 to 2/07/2015)
(Written by Her)

Having walked around Ubud for the last week, it’s hard to imagine the Bali that existed in the early 2000s when Eat Pray Love was first written (published in 2006). Nevertheless, as a fan of Liz Gilbert, of course I was interested in retracing some of her footsteps in search of the authentic Balinese culture and lifestyle. 

My first mission was to track down Wayan Nuriasih. For those of you who have read the book or watched the Julia Roberts movie, you may remember a Balinese healer named Wayan, who at the time of Liz Gilbert's visit was about to become homeless. Liz befriended Wayan and her daughter Tutti when in Ubud and ended up enlisting the help of friends and family to buy Wayan a house. After a few incidents (as per the book), the house was indeed built. Wayan now runs her healing practice from the ‘Balinese Healing Center’ on Jn Jembawan in Ubud. 

We visited her place of business, hoping to pop in for a quick chat and perhaps a remedy or reading. As we walked along the narrow street, wondering if we would ever actually find the place, we were met by a billboard with a picture of Liz Gilberts face and a list of prices for health readings….400,000 rupiah for a body reading (around $30). Wayan has certainly learned how to charge. What’s more, when we arrived she was busy with a group of three young tourists in bikinis. 

What a contrast – the once local healer who barely earned enough to survive, striving to develop her skills, to selling overpriced readings to tourist fans of Ms Gilberts. Here I was, ready to be the next one! I reconsidered and we moved on without a reading. Perhaps that's an unfair assessment, especially since I didn't enter but it is how it seemed. Also I should say, that it is very good news that Wayan is no longer struggling as she was, and that her daughter Tutti will have a bigger, brighter future. However, it is still a shame that her skills are perhaps not being put to good use anymore and on some level, authenticity may have been replaced by fame and/or commercialism. 

As an alternative I thought perhaps I would hop in a taxi and visit Ketut Lieyer, the old Balinese healer with whom Liz had practiced meditation. My driver knew the exact Ketut but he explained that he is now very old (98 years) and is suffering from dementia so is no longer giving readings.

While, he doesn’t see people himself, his son has taken the reins so I said no problem, maybe I’ll get to catch a glimpse of Ketut. When we arrived to Lieyer House (now the address of a large guesthouse), Ketut and his son were sitting on the terrace speaking with a woman. 

I was mesmerized, here we are in Ketut’s house, there he is sitting on his terrace as he did all those years ago before when he first met Liz. My daydreaming was interrupted by a young guy on a walkie talkie who gave me a plastic tag with the number 2 written on it. I was the second visitor of the day and the Lieyers only see 20 people per day. It was only 9:30 am. I was asked to wait at the end of the garden to be called. 

We walked down the back of the house, past 2 eagles tied to perches, through manicured lawns, over 2 little footbridges and eventually to an infinity pool in front of a 2 storey guesthouse. Our driver explained to me that none of this was here 10 years ago. Before it was all agricultural land. After Ketut became famous, the Lieyers decided to rent more land and build a guesthouse. They are currently in the process of building villas also. After a few minutes the walkie talkie guy told our driver that Ketut and family were ready to see me. 

Once at the terrace, I was asked to remove my shoes and sit cross-legged in front of Ketut’s son (now aged 63). He gave me a short explanation as to why it was he who was giving the readings now. In short, Ketut has become senial in his old age and his mind is no longer fully functioning but his body is fit and healthy.  Ketut’s son gave me a non-descript palm reading – very successful, very happy, very wealthy, long life! I won’t hold my breath but it was a nice experience. He asked for 250,000 rupiah for the pleasure, which I was happy to pay given that it was almost half the price Wayan was charging!

It was a surreal experience to share a terrace with Ketut Lieyer and his son. To talk to his son, the way that he must have spoken with Liz. The same broken English. The same smiling, laughing voice. It was what I had imagined (minus the hotel, plastic numbers and walkie talkie guys). Ironically, Ketut’s son told me that I should come back to Bali and that he will show me how to make Hindu art. I can’t imagine ever taking his word for it and returning years later to do just that. I thanked him, secure in the knowledge that I won’t be back. As an alternative, I thought perhaps it would be nice to buy one of Ketut’s ink drawings of Hindu deities. I politely asked how much for a 20cm x 30cm black and white sketch and was told $500, as in USD. I nearly fainted. Who in their right minds is paying hundreds of dollars for one of Ketut’s paintings, good and all as they are. Commercialism rears its ugly head again. I declined and thanked him for the reading! To this day I am still talking about the price of those pictures. 

Apart from my experiences with the actual people, who’s lives have been made part of popular culture by the EPL movie, there is a noticeable presence of female solo travellers in Bali that we haven’t seen anywhere else in SE Asia. In restaurants, around 30% of the tables are always taken up by female solo travellers. There is also an abundance of yoga classes, meditation centres, healing centres, well-being cafes and generally self-development tourism. This is pretty rare elsewhere and has to be to some extent attributed to the EPL phenomenon. 

It seems to me that the hoards of tourists descending on Ubud for a week of self-development are actually destroying any peace and balance for which the area was once known. How can one find inner peace in a yoga class with 50 other people, crammed into a small room, overlooking a busy street. Or at least, if that’s the experience in Bali, then why not stay at home? Perhaps there are people who can block out the craziness, I certainly couldn't, and while I found Ubud to be beautiful and romantic, it was undoubtedly marred by touts, scams and tourists. So I'm left asking, if one intends to write a book about a particular place, or particular people, is it better to use pseudonyms and leave the real deal well enough alone? Or is it actually more responsible to name those people who's story it really is, and give them the opportunity to boost their livelihoods and local economy, while potentially loosing some authenticity? I'm still wondering...