The
House
As
an organic unit, the structure, significance, and function
of the home is dictated by the same fundamental principles
of belief that rule the village: blood-relation through
the worship of the ancestors; rank, indicated by higher
and lower levels; and orientation by the cardinal directions,
the mountain and the sea, right and left.
The
other three sides of Gedog's courtyard were occupied by
three open pavilions; on the left was the baM tiang sanga,
the social parlour and guest house, and two smaller pavilions
were on the. right (bal6 sikepat) and back (baM sekenam)
where other relatives slept with the children and where
the women placed their looms to work. In the lowest part
of the land, towards the sea, were the kitchen (paon) and
the granary (lurnbung). Rice was threshed in a cleared space
(tongos nebuk padi) behind the granary. As in every household,
there were two small shrines (tugu') , one west of the met6n,
the other in the middle of the courtyard, the pengidjeng
perhaps dedicated to the spirit of the land, " His
Excellency the Owner of the Ground " (Ratu" Medrw6
Karang)
Such
is the general pattern of the home of a family of the average
class that has ricefields and is economically comfortable.
The better homes often have more elaborate pavilions, one
of which may become alodii (a Dutch word) by enclosing half
of the pavilion with four walls, leaving the other half
as an open veranda. This will provide a second sleeping-quarter
for a married son. In the houses of the well-to-do the social
hall is often a great square pavilion (bal6 ged6) with an
extraordinarily thick thatch roof supported by twelve beautifully
carved posts. A wellbuilt bale', the archtype of Balinese
construction, is a masterpiece of simplicity, ingenuity,
and good taste. It consists of a platform of mud, brick,
or stone reached by three. or four steps and covered by
a cool roof of thick thatch. The roof is supported by more
or less elaborate wooden posts (tiang), the number of which
determines their name and-function. Thus a bale" is
called sake pat, seke nani, tiang sanga, or bal6 gede",
according to whether there are four, six, nine, or twelve
posts. Definite rules dictate the dimensions and designs
of these posts, .2 3 lengths of the index finger (tujuh),
or about seven feet, being the standard height of a house
post. It has already been mentioned that the house must
stand " upright "; that is, the bottom of the
posts should be the end nearest to where the roots were
in the tree. The roof is built of lalang grass sown on the
long ribs of coconut leaves, placed close together like
shingles and lashed to the bamboo skeleton of the roof with
indestructible cords of sugar-palm fibre, with an extra
thickness of grass added to the four corners. Then the roof
is combed with a special rake and the lower edge is neatly
evened with a sharp knife. Such a roof, often a foot and
a half in thickness, will last through fifty tropical rainy
seasons. The beams that support the roof are ingeniously
fitted together without nails, and are held in place with
pegs made of heart of coconut wood. Generally one or two
sides of the ba16 are protected by a low wall and between
the house posts are built-in beds or platforms of wood with
springs of bamboo, also called bal6s, where distinguished
guests sit cross-legged to eat, or where, with a mattress
added and screened by a curtain, they are put up for the
night.
In
Belaluan everybody was up even before the first rays of
the sun outlined the jagged tops of the coconut palms, awakened
by the raucous crowings of the fighting cocks. In the indigo
semidarkness of the dawn the women were busily sweeping
the yard and bringing water from the village spring. The
first thought of the men was for their pets; to line up
the bell shaped cages of the fighting cocks out on the road
by the gate so that the roosters might " amuse themselves
watching people go by." The cages, of the cooing doves
were strung up on high poles for them to enjoy the morning
air and the sunshine, and the flocks of pigeons, trained
to fly in circles over the house, were released for their
morning exercise. As protection from birds of prey, they
bad small brass bells around their necks that produced various
bumming sounds as they flew round and round until they tired,
when they came down to be fed.
After
a refreshing bath the men started for the fields without
breakfast, taking along a snack - rice boiled inside of
little diamond-shaped containers of palm-leaf called ketipat.
More substantial food was taken to them later if they bad
to remain in the fields all day, but they returned at noon
for lunch if there was not much work or if the sawas were
near. Meanwhile the women fetched sheaves of unhusked rice
from the granary, spread them on the ground to dry in the
sun, filled the gebah - the large waterhasin in the kitchen
- and started the fire for the day's cooking. A kitchen
is a simple roof of coarse thatch supported by four posts"with
a bamboo platform at one end - the kitchen table and a primitive
mud stove at the other. Often a crude figure is modelled
out of the same clay of which the hearth is made to preside
over the kitchen. It is called brahma, not the supreme lord
of the Hindus, but simply meaning " fire," an
animistic fire god.
The
food that Balinese gourmets eat at festivals is as elaborate
as any in the world and will be described later in detail,
but the daily meal is extremely simple. A mound of boiled
cold rice with salt and chili-pepper was sufficient, our
house-boy Dog claimed, to keep body and soul together for
a Balinese like himself. The daily diet of Gusti and his
noble family was the same cold white rice (nasi, a synonym
for food in general), helped, however, by a side dish of
vegetables chopped together with a dozen, or so of spices,
aromatics, grated coconut and the hottest chili-pepper in
the world. Gusti's wives did the cooking; Siloh Bing prepared
the rice while Sagung scraped coconut in a kikian, a board
bristling with little iron points, chopped the ingredients
for the sauce' or fried them in coconut oil in an iron pan
(pengorengan). Some eat their daily rice simply boiled in
a clay pot, but in our household they preferred it steamed;
they washed the grain repeatedly until the waters lost their
milky colour and came out transparent, boiled it for a while,
and when it was half done put it into a funnelshaped basket
(kukusan) covered with a. heavy clay lid (kekeb) and steamed
the whole over a special pot (dangdang) of boiling water.
From time to time some of the boiling water was poured over
the rice with a ladle of coconut she]] to prevent it from
drying up and sticking together. The result was a deliciously
dry, separate rice that served as a medium for the peppery
sauces. The food was prepared with cleanliness, everything
carefully washed first, and the food covered until eaten
with squares of banana leaf.
As
soon as the rice was done, they prepared a tray of offerings
(ngejot) for the spirits that haunt the house: little squares
of banana leaf, each with a few grains of rice, a flower,
salt, and a dash of chili-pepper. No one could eat before
the little portions were distributed in front of each of
the house units: at the en trance of the family shrine,
in front of the sleeping-quarters, in front of the little
altar in the middle of the court, at the well if there is
one,'and finally at the gate. The woman who distributed
the offerings was followed by the eternally hungry dogs,
who unceremoniously ate the grains of rice as soon as the
offering was placed on the ground. Nobody cared, however,
since
they were intended for evil spirits, which might, perhaps,
be embodied in the dogs.
There were no set meal hours and they ate whenever they
felt hungry. A little before noon the men returned from
work, after taking. a bath in the spring or in a river and
sat casually somewhere near the kitchen, often turning their
backs silently on each other because a person who is eating
should not be spokento. Each was given his portion of rice
with its complementary sauce in a square of banana leaf
which he held in the hollow of the left hand while the right
acted as spoon and fork. The use of dishes and cutlery is
to the Balinese an unclean and repulsive foreign habit.
Balinese who use plates
invariably place a square of banana leaf over them. When
finished, the leaf dishes were simply thrown to the pigs;
no dishes were left to wash. A kendih of water was passed
around after the peal, each drinking in turn and at a distance
from it, letting a continuous jet of water fall into the
open mouth, the lips never touching the spout. (When we
tried to drink like the Balinese we succeeded only in choking
or drenching ourselves.) The mouth and fingers were rinsed,
and after emitting a loud belch of satisfaction the men
took a nap or went to the bale" banjar to chat before
resuming work. Generally the women ate after the men were
finished, then fed the pigs, and spent the rest of the afternoon
weaving, threshing rice, or simply delousing each other,
a great social pastime.
For
a while it seemed as if the art of hand weaving would be
wrecked by the ever increasing importation of foreign cloth.
Chinese'silk thread was hard to obtain, aniline dyes gave
brighter hues and were infinitely easier to, handle than
the old vegetable dyes, and Japanese rayon for a few cents
a yard looked almost like real silk. In later years, however,
the affluence of tourists has increased the market for Balinese
handicrafts and many women derive an income from selling
garish brocades. On our second visit the women of our household
took to weaving and every afternoon the 'characteristic
rhythmic sounds of many looms came from all directions.
On the Balinese loom (prabot tennun) the warp is stretched
between a heavy wooden structure (tietiaga and pendalan)
and a sort of yoke (6por) shaped like a Cupid's bow held
by the woman 11 s back. After the bamboo spindle (tunda)
has gone through the warp, the weave is tightened with a
long ruler (be' lida) of polished hard wood that slides
over a bamboo drum (pengrorogan),wbile the threads are separated
with a bamboo tubes (bungbunggan) provided with little bells
that jingle at every move. Thus the work is made easier
by the rhythmical sequence of three sounds: the tinkling
of the bells, the sound of the bollow bamboo as it is struck
by the ruler, and the energetic double knock to tighten
the weave. Weaving is the main occupation of the -women
of caste who feel, above doing heavy house labour, but they
are not, lazy and take to weaving with tenacity. In our
house the wives and aunts of our host, all, noble women
with servants. to do the housework, remained all day glued
to their looms and often continued working into the night
by the faint light of a petrol lamp.
Towards
evening the ground of the house shook, resounding with deep,
rhythmic thumping - the women threshing the rice for the
next day's meal. Two women punded the rice in, wood mortars
with long, heavy pestles, each dropping her pestle alternately
in unfailing, 'perfectly timed intervals, catching it on
the rebound with the other hand. Then the rice was separated
from the husk by swishing it around in flat bamboo trays,
the centrifugal force throwing the chaff towards the outside.
Everybody
bathed again when the work for the day was done; by then
the sun had begun to set and the atmosphere had cooled,
so it was time to put on clean clothes, tiempaka blossoms
in the women's hair, great hibiscus behind the ears of the
men, and to go visiting or take a stroll and be admired.
Back from work, the men sat in groups at the gates or in
the middle of the road talking and fondling their fighting
cocks until the sun dropped behind the curtain of coconut
palms. Sunset' comes suddenly in the tropics and in a few
seconds it was night, when the lamps were lit and it was
time to eat dinner, the cold food left from lunch. There
were many ways of spending an evening; elderly men fond
of tuak, palm beer, belonged to " tuak associations
" and met at the bale bandiar, summoned by a special
tomtom. Or if there was a rehearsal of the village orchestra
or a meeting at the bale bandiar, the men sat talking things
over until they were tired, going to bed about nine or ten.
But if there was a feast in,the neighbourhood, or one of
the frequent theatrical performances, the whole family went
to watch the show, remaining until it was over, long after
midnight.