Do You Know How Much I Spend in Your Country?

(First published in Bali Advertiser, June 22, 2005)

How can we, as a country, stand by and let a young lady, as an Australian, rot away in a foreign prison? We gave Indonesia how many hundreds of millions of dollars in tsunami relief? -- Actor Russell Crowe on an Australian radio talk show, as quoted in a May 28 International Herald Tribune article.

People who live or travel in foreign countries sometimes get the idea that no laws exist for them. They are outside the reach of their own governments. They aren’t integrated into the political, social, and legal communities around them. They may be away from company, boss, family, and friends. They may not understand the laws of the country in which they temporarily or permanently reside. They sense only freedom for the next weeks, months, years.

A few get the idea that even physical laws have been rescinded for them. Bare skin no longer loses when challenging asphalt; un-helmeted skulls no longer crush when hitting solid objects at 40 kilometers per hour. Additionally, many Australians, Americans, Europeans, and northern Asians - as ‘wealthy’ foreigners in a poorer country – come to feel their higher financial standing gives them an aristocratic status. The deference shown by officials, shop owners, and hotel staff becomes a right instead of a service. “Do you know how much money I spend in your country?” is the rhetorical question to excuse all bad behavior.

I don’t know if Schapelle Corby, the Australian woman sentenced to 20 years in a Bali prison for drug smuggling, is guilty or innocent. If she is guilty, I have no more sympathy for her than I would have for anyone - foreign or Indonesian - sentenced to serve time in Indonesia. If she has been wrongly convicted, I hope that she, her lawyers, and her family are able to prove her innocence during the appeals process.

Anyone who’s followed her case knows the excess and hysteria that it has sparked in the Australian media and public. Consider, though, the outcry if one million Indonesians were visiting Australia each year, driving illegally, consuming illegal drugs at all-night beach parties, and behaving badly and loudly in most public situations. Australians would rightly argue that it didn’t matter how much the Indonesians were contributing to the economy: Visitors have to obey Australian law or face the consequences, and even the potentially innocent would have to be tried and judged in the local courts.

This didn’t work out so well for Chika Honda, a young Japanese woman, and three male companions. They never even got the chance to ask the money question. When they arrived in Melbourne in 1992, Australian customs officers found 13 kilograms of heroin hidden in false panels in their suitcases. Their story that their original bags had been stolen in Kuala Lumpur and replaced by the “generosity” of a friend didn’t sway the Australian courts. Ms. Honda and the three men were deported in 2002 after more than 10 years in jail and are still trying to clear their names from Japan (June 2 article on www.theage.com.au).

Travel in a foreign country carries risks. It’s one of the reasons we do it. We want a break from daily routine. We want to see something different, try new things. For travelers from wealthy countries, the price paid for the experience includes the risks inherent in lower standards of medical care, dirtier water and unhygienic food, and less developed political and judicial systems. And there’s only so much the people back home can do for the willing traveler who has been unlucky or foolish.

Many of Ms. Corby’s supporters in Australia don’t seem to grasp that she isn’t in Australia, that Indonesian laws aren’t the same as Australian laws. Such ignorance is of no consequence for someone sending letters to the editor from Cambewarra, New South Wales. It can be costly for someone in Bali who thinks money, foreign citizenship, and light skin color makes them untouchable. Just as I would have no sympathy for a guilty Ms. Corby, I have none to spare for unlicensed drivers “harassed” by the police; for people who “buy” land despite laws against foreign ownership and lose on the deal; for people turned in for drug use by the person who sold them the drugs. They are breaking Indonesian law, and if caught, deserve to be punished or pay accordingly. It doesn’t matter how much they’ve spent or how many Indonesians depend on them for jobs.

The only important issue for Ms. Corby is her guilt or innocence. If she’s guilty, it’s no good to argue that the sentence is too harsh, Indonesian jails are too dirty, and marijuana should be legal anyway. She isn’t in Australia where those kinds of arguments might win her some leniency.

Copyright © 2005 Lee Roy LeRoi