Kuta Sweats Sex 1

By Denise Dowling


The combination of heat and anonymity is a powerful aphrodisiac in this resort town in Bali. Sex whispers in the tree leaves at night, it vibrates in the bass of techno that drugs the discos. But it's not really sex, more of a humid hedonism, the electricity of heat lightning. Sensual, but not sexual, two different states too often confused.

There's the fumbling drunk guarantee of a good time in clubs where Australian surfers and surfie chicks go, because Kuta is their Fort Lauderdale. But that's fast-food sex from a drive-thru, it's Kuta but not Bali. Bali is the brown navel of a Brazilian girl swaying, hips straddling midnight and sunrise. A solipsist who knows figments of her imagination are watching in the mirror.


I traveled to Indonesia to write about sex, specifically, the sex between older Australian women and "Kuta Cowboys", young Indonesian gigolos. Shhh...the guys don't like it when you use that word. They are boyfriends, they insist, they're not just paid for sex. The story might have a happier ending if sex was the only thing the women wanted.

But, you know women...some of us think sex should be wrapped in love. That's the package these women buy, and the cowboys have learned to sell it that way. It may be a shoddy parcel in the cold light of reality, but Indonesia is a Third World country with poor electricity, so it's hard to see what you're getting. Bali is seductively dim; even when the power's on, it's the flattering flicker of candlelight.

The cowboys "hunt" at Kuta Beach sprawled on the sand near dusk, when it's early enough to "make a promise" to meet a woman later that night. The women have just started to apply sunscreen when a cowboy trots over. April is a low season for tourists and competition is fierce. Many of the boys are with minnows, but they hope to fry fatter fish.