Women are not allowed here...
The sun was warm through the car window as we made our way around the backroads of Bali. You could see things that tourists wouldn't easily see. Women sitting on the street corner selling their harvest of salt, children making a new kite out of a make shift garbage bag... I don't know what it was about my deep interest in doing anything other than laying on the beach that had me on a journey through the unknown...
Growing up on the west coast of the United States and Canada, this was my first deep inhalation of a life based on faith and culture in a way I had not experienced before. Nature mixed with magic were the ingredients needed to sustain a successful field of rice. They say that water is the heartbeat of Bali... not only in the temples but in the way families thrive.
As we passed by small villages, my driver was gracious enough to educate me on the importance of family and honour. What it meant to take care of your father and the duties of a good wife. As he drove for what felt like forever I asked, can you tell me about the real Bali? He smiled and took a deep breath... You want to know about magic?
Yes, can you tell me about magic?
There is white magic and black magic, you can sometimes see these things fighting in the sky... Magic is the kind of thing that mostly you feel. Like when the hair on the back of your neck stands up and you just know. Do you know that feeling Lucy? I smiled as I had felt it many times..
Can you tell me why there are so many roosters? Why are they in these baskets beside the road? They are for making money, he replied. What do you mean making money, I asked. You know... like the cock fight. As he said these words my eyes grew big and my heart started to race a little faster... Understanding my reaction and my deep interest in Balinese culture I held my breath as he asked the question... Would you like to go to a cock fight?
I wasn't sure if I had just heard him right... Like a real cock fight? I'm not sure I've ever seen this anywhere, not in a movie or in a magazine. Only in folklore and fairytales of darker things. Still trying to find the words, he said... My parents are high up in the village, There is a fight this afternoon, I will call them and ask if I can bring you. Pulling out his phone I could hear the conversation although I didn't understand the words... They said yes.
From this point on, every other image felt insignificant. The beach, the fruit stand... I had no time to research.
Was this idea safe? I wondered if I should call my kids...
As the clock neared 4pm we arrived at an empty arena. Clearly upset my driver called his parents and with the intensity of language in the vehicle I started to wonder if this was a good idea. Looking around the phone call stopped and my driver got out of the vehicle to meet a man on the street. He came over to the vehicle and looked at me, he looked at my camera and nodded his approval. When my friend got back in the vehicle he said, the fight today is at the hidden arena. This man is on the look out for the police as the cock fight is illegal.
I'm sorry what did you say?...
In our culture the cock fight is legal as it's been deemed that to spill the blood of an animal is to cleanse the temple. The gambling is not legal... the police would have already been paid off to allow today to happen. As we drove through hundreds of scooters to find our parking place, I looked down at my Canon R6 and flipped the setting into automatic. I pulled the lens cap off my 85mm prime and I thought okay Lucy, this is a once in a lifetime shot...
The air filled with cigarette smoke and the sounds of the roosters and men yelling drowned out any thoughts around safety. Stepping up on to the edge of the arena next to my friend, I held up the camera and started to fill my card with images I'll never forget. As I looked through the viewfinder I noticed handfuls of cash. Cash rolled up and tucked in hats, cash falling out of cross body bags. As the camera moved around the room I also noticed that there were no other cameras... Only men.
As I lowered my camera I asked the question, where are the women?
Women are not allowed here.
Why am I here?
You are here because you are a guest. We trust you to know us and to see us. as we are ...
Can I ask how these men have so much money to gamble? I understand what the wage is in Bali and I think if I am seeing things correctly they are gambling away one month salary on one fight. My friend took a deep breath and replied, they would have leased away the rice fields to foreigners to build villas. They have traded their food security away to feel rich today. As I looked at him and then looked at the men around the arena I thought of Canada. I thought of Bingo and Hand Games... I thought of the Indigenous communities I had worked in. This was in fact part social fabric and very much about the hope of striking it rich.
My friend turned to me and said..
To want more... This is what it means to be human.
