I am sitting here in a lovely Villa in Bali relaxing and my wife is out shopping. We have had a mellow time of it since arriving.

The tourists (like us!) are everywhere although you never think you look like the rest of them.

The store holders go from happy and welcoming to insistent to dismissive at various stages of negotiation depending on prices and no doubt attitude… on both sides.

All the time we are going about our tourist life, there is another life going on in the background, often glanced at, but quickly dismissed as another shiny object takes our notice.

Yesterday I noticed. And today I saw.

Motorbikes everywhere but often this is the place of business for the small street vendor selling or dangerously transporting their wares to the locals and tourists. Buildings being pulled down or put up by swarms of men and women doing it in small pieces. The streets cleaned by the lone street sweepers and their small broom and bag. Garbage removed and sorted by hand, noticed only by the passing smell of the worker stirring up the garbage while sifting out the 1000 plastic bags that once would have been naturally compostable bags and plates and every container. Locals in small dark shops with unknown wares on display never entered. Trucks filled with tired and solum workers traveling down busy tourist streets at dusk packed in the back of tip trucks and utilities: their gazes go to the restaurants and bars just starting for the evening that they will never enter.

I saw a lot today and it didn’t make me sad, I just noticed it.

I suppose thinking now, so much of the life of the people here is reliant on the tourists coming. And really what can the tourist do. I think we can at least care. I think we can be polite. I think we can be respectful. I think we can behave like any visitor in someone else’s home.

I know that is what I did today.

I know me being a better man is not only about saying it, but it is also in what I do.

I tipped my taxi driver (The fare was $1.90 and I gave a $1.00 for himself)
I gave the old, old lady in the dark store where I bought eggs this morning twice what she wanted (I bought my dozen eggs for $2.00).
I eat their food (not a hamburger and chips, or branded take away – although today I did have a lunch in a small local restaurant that should have had a Hazchem warning!)
I look at them, not through them.
I smile at them.
I say hello, excuse me, no thank you, thank you, in their language.

I appreciate that I am a visitor in their home. And as a guest we know, back home at least, you should respect the host or leave.

Bali is a wonderful place, with a vibe that is not unlike the tentative hug of a friend just met: you have to know when it is okay to squeeze a bit tighter, become more familiar and form a long friendship. But, I think that comes by having many visits in all forms, and not just being the ‘plus one’ at a 10 day party.

Here’s to me having a new friend and being a good guest.