THE COMMUNITY

The Village

The capitals of the princes' districts, the seats of the regencies, are commercialized half-European, half-Chinese towns like Denpasar and Buleleng; but the true life of Bali is concentrated in thousands of villages and hamlets. With their thatched roofs they lie buried under awnings of tropical vegetation, the groves and gardens that provide for the needs of the villagers. Out of the chartreuse sea of ricefields they surge like dark green islands of tall palms, breadfruit, mango, papaya, and banana trees.

Underneath the cool darkness, pierced only by the shafts of sunlight that sift through the mesh of leaves, are the houses hidden from view by interminable mud walls that are broken at regular intervals by long narrow gates. All the gates are alike: two mud pillars supporting a small roof of thick thatch, giving access to each household by a raised doorstep of rough stones. In front of every gate is a stone bridge, or, simpler still, a section of coconut tree trunk to ford the deep irrigation ditch that runs invariably along both sides of the road.

A simple village consists of family compounds, each completely surrounded by walls, lined on each side of a wide well built avenue that runs in the direction of the cardinal points; from the mountain to the sea, the Balinese equivalent to our " north and " south." The villages grew as they spread in these directions, and the Dutch bad only to pave the main streets and extend them through the rice fields to obtain the five hundred mile net of automobile roads that covers this small island.

Naked children play at the gates by the bell-shaped bask where the fighting cocks are kept. Each morning the baskets a', lined out on the street so that the roosters may enjoy the spectacle of people passing by. Small boys wearing only oversize sun-hat drive the enormous water-buffaloes, which in Bali appear in colours, a dark muddy grey, and a pale, almost transparent pink albino variety. A water-buffalo will not hesitate to attack tiger; their ponderous calm and their gigantic horns are awe inspiring to Europeans, who have been told that their evening bath. the buffaloes. They have often charged white people for no apparent reason, although the smallest Balinese boy can man handle the great beasts. They love to lie in the water and be scrubbed by their little guardians, who climb all over them and bang from their horns when they take them for their evening bath. The buffalo tolerates the children perhaps as a rhinoceros tolerates the birds that eat the ticks on its back.

The Balinese raise a fine breed of cattle, a beautiful variety of cow, with delicate legs and a long neck, that resembles overgrown deer more than ordinary cows. Ducks are driven in flocks to the rice fields, where they feed on all sorts of small water animals. Their guardian is a boy or an old man who leads them with a little banner of white cloth on the end of a bamboo pole topped by a bunch of white feathers. This he plants on the ground and be can then go away for the rest of the day, sure that his ducks will not wander away. At sundown the trained ducks gather around the flag waiting to be taken home. When the duck guardian arrives, the flock is all together, and at a signal from the flag, they march home, straight as penguins and in perfect military formation.

All Balinese domestic animals are rather extraordinary; chickens are killed constantly by rushing automobiles, but their owners make no provision to keep them from the road except the low bamboo fence that bars the house gate, and that is intended, perhaps, more for the pigs, which in Bali belong to a monstrous variety that surely exists nowhere else. The Balinese pig, an untamed descendant of the wild bog, has an absurd sagging back and a fat stomach that drags on the ground like a heavy bag suspended loosely from its bony hips and shoulders.

The roads are particularly infested with miserable dogs, the scavengers of the island. Most dogs are attached to the house they protect and keep clean of garbage, but they reproduce unchecked and there are thousands of homeless living skeletons, covered with ulcers and mange, that bark and wail all night in great choruses. The Balinese are not disturbed by them and peacefully through the hideous noise. The curs are suppose frighten away witches and evil spirits, but I could never disco bow our neighbours knew when it was an ordinary mortal not a devil that the dogs barked at; they always awoke when stranger came into the house at night. Such dogs were undoubtedly provided by the gods to keep Bali from perfection.

The Balinese make a clear differentiation e dwelling-grounds and the " unlived " parts of the village, for public use such as the temples, assembly halls, market, cemeteries, public baths. The village is a unified organism in every individual is a corpuscle and every institution and organ. The heart of the village is the central square, invariably located in the " center " of the village, the intersection of the two-A avenues: the big road that runs from the Balinese " , South " and a street that cuts it at right angles from " east west " Consequently the crossroads are the center of a Rose Winds formed by the entire village; the cardinal dir mean a great deal to the Balinese and the crossroads are a spot of great importance.

All around and in the square are the important public. places of the village; the town temple (pura desa) , with its assembly (bale agung) , the palace Of the local feudal prince , the market, the large shed for cockfights (wantilan) , and the tall and often elaborate tower where hang the alarm tomtoms (kulkul) to call to meetings, announce events, or warn of dangers. Also important to the village life is the ever present waringin , a giant banyan, the sacred tree of the Hindus, planted in the square. Under its shadow take place the shows and dances given in connection with the frequent festivals; market is also held there in villages that do not have a special market enclosure. In ancient villages the waringin grows to a giant size, shading the entire square and dripping aerial roots that, unless clipped before they reached the ground, would grow into trunks that unchecked might swallow up a village. A beautiful village waringin is an enormous rounded dome of shiny leaves supported by a mossy, gnarled single trunk hung with a curtain of tentacles that are cut evenly at the height of a man; but in the waringins that have grown freely outside the village, the tree spreads in every direction in fantastic shapes. The aerial filaments dig into the earth and grow into whitish trunks and branches emerging at illogical angles and filled with parasite ferns, a dreamlike forest that is in reality a single tree

Somewhere in the outskirts of the village are the public bath and the cemetery, a neglected field overgrown with weeds and decaying bamboo altars, with its temple of the Dead and its mournful kepuh tree, a sad and eerie place. The bathing-place is generally a cool spot shaded by clusters of bamboo in the river that runs near the village, where all day long men and women bathe in the brown water in separate modest groups. Some villages have special bathing-places with fancy water-spouts and low walls of carved stone, with separate compartments for men and women. Tedjakula in North Bali is famous for its horse bath, a special compartment that is larger and even more elaborate than the baths for the people.

THE MARKET

Important towns have great utilitarian markets of cement and galvanized tin where shrewd Arabs and Chinese keep regular shops of cloth and imported knick-knacks, but the average holds market under the shadow, of the waringin or under square shades of straw mats like umbrellas. A few people sell there everyday; the " big " market takes place every third day of the of religius calendar. There are " market associations " organized in group of three desas that work together, holding market in rotation every day in each of the three villages. The women are-the financiers that control the market; one seldom sees men in it. except in certain trades or to help carry such a load as a fat pig. Even the money-changers are women, who sit behind little filled with rolls of small change, kepeng, Chinese brass coinswith a hole in the middle, worth a small fraction of a cent (about five to seven to a cent according to the current exchange). coins are strung into rolls of two hundred, called satak (one string of twenty-five cents) . Prices in the market vary according to the buyer; they are lowest to the villager in his home town, slightly higher for the Balinese of other villages, and considerably higher to foreigners. This is customary and understandable. one takes, into consideration the communal spirit of the village

and of the Balinese. It is significant that an average meal in the market costs a Balinese only twenty-five kepeng or about two or three American cents. The Balinese do not count in the present Dutch monetary system of guilders and cents; among themselves they use only the smallest unit, the kepeng, and the largest, the ringgit, big silver coins (worth two and a half guilders) that are normally divided into 1,200 kepeng. The Balinese cannot visualize a foreigner using kepengs and when I bought peanuts or a banana at a food-stand and they did not have Dutch pennies for change, the women vendors were amused to see me pocket a heavy string of kepengs. Accustomed to dealing in hundreds and thousands, they have acquired a surprising knowledge of mathematics, and the women can add, subtract, multiply, or divide with the speed of an adding machine. To test this ability we used to ask the women of our household for multiplications of numbers of several ciphers; with mysterious operations of a few kepengs spread on their laps, they always found a quick and accurate result.

The market reaches its height about noon, when it is bard to walk through the crowd of semi-nude women. At that time the animation is very great and the market resounds with the excited bargaining, the constant coming and going of people, and the squealing of the pigs that are mercilessly stuffed into baskets or carried in the arms of the women like babies. The thousand smells of coconut oil, flowers, spices, and dried fish combine to make the pungent smell so characteristic of Balinese markets. The soft browns and yellows of the women's skirts and the bright colored sashes they wear, the graceful movements and unconscious beauty of their poses, make of the market a show as interesting to watch as their luxurious and spectacular feasts. The excitement subsides gradually in the late afternoon, when the women return home loaded with the merchandise they have bought or with the empty baskets balanced on one corner, in the most absurd defiance of the laws of gravity, by the heavy strings of kepengs that record the day's sales. Most markets have a little shrine for the goddess of fertility and of gardens, Melanting, alsothe deity of the market, to whom the vendors make small offerings for good luck.

ETIQUETTE

Despite strict caste regulations, the code of etiquette is simple and reasonable; a general air of frankness and friendliness prevails in daily intercourse, and it is only in the resence of an arrogant prince that the common man has to humiliate himself; even more polite treatment is given to a high priest. From the beginning a stranger is struck by the extreme politeness and gentle manners, even in the lower classes. The strongest criticism that can be made of a person is that he has no manners. Such a freak should be avoided.

One is greeted on the road with the words: Lungga kidia, Where to? " and a visitor is welcomed with: " Wau rauh, Just arrived." These are formulas not to be taken in their literal sense. A visitor takes leave by asking to be excused: " Tiang pamit," the answer to which is simply " Yes," "ingih" There are no other words for greeting or for good-bye. It is not polite to answer a question with monosyllables, and one should not point with. The index finger. It is better to use the words for the cardinal to indicate direction, but if one must point, it should be with the thumb, holding the rest of the band closed.

The Balinese are constantly paying visits to one another, but no one would dream of making a formal visit without bringing along a gift of some sort: fruit, rice, eggs, or chickens, given casually and received without a word of thanks. It is taken for. granted that the present is appreciated by the acceptance but if one wants to be over-polite, one says: " Tiang nunas", "want it " or " I like it " (ideh in the common language) object is banded with the right band while touching the elbow with the left, and it is received with the same gesture.

The gift-problem became acute for us as we entered in competition with our friends and neighbors for more and valuable presents. Someone would arrive with a basket of egg or rice; we repaid the visit taking a cheap bead-cloth. On the next visit they came with piles of fruit and even live chicken we had to rush to the market to buy a batik shirt or a bottles of Javanese perfume. We generally ended by exchanging brocades krisses, and so forth for pieces of silk, flashlights, and fountain pens. The Balinese are very much concerned with the price paid for an object, and they always insisted on knowing what we paid . for a present, until we realized that it was a great mistake, to remove move the price tags. When we bought new glasses or new Plates, Dog, our house-boy, washed them carefully around the la as not to rub off the price.

It is necessary to be properly dressed to pay or to receive a, visit The breasts of men and women should be covered by a special breast-cloth, a saput for men and a selendang for women. People in the house always dashed for their breast-cloth, usually an ordinary foreign towel, when a special guest arrived. Immediately the visitor was provided with green coconuts to quench his thirst, with cigarettes and betel-nut. Up-to-date Balinese like to , offer soda-pop, coffee and Chinese pastries. The chewing bete]-nut is the first gesture of hospitality and the main social pastime of the entire archipelago. To chew betel, a piece of the green nut of the betel palm is dabbed with a little lime, wrapped in pepper leaves, sirih, and the whole chewed together with a large wad of shredded tobacco that is held under a monstrously protruding lower lip.

The combination of betel, sirih, and lime produces an abundant flow of saliva, red as blood, and the betel addict spits constantly, leaving crimson splotches wherever he goes. After certain guests departed, our house-boy always -had to wash the veranda steps because they looked as if a murder bad been committed on them. Today betel-chewing is not favoured by the younger generation, not only because it looks so disagreeable, but because it spoils the teeth. The older the person, the fonder he is of betel, and the ingredients are always kept on hand in boxes with little compartments or in special satchels of woven pandanus. Old men without teeth have a special bamboo tube with an iron rod to mash the various ingredients together. The sirih, betel, and lime are presented to guests in little ready-made packages often beautifully decorated with streamers of delicately cut-out palm-leaf. They are called tian2ng or bas6h, a gift.

A host must act as servant to his guests, himself attending to their comfort and not partaking of the refreshments. Meals are also served by the host, even if he has servants and assistants, and he can eat only after the guests have finished. If the visitors come from another village, they are expected to stay for the night and even for days at a time. The place of honour in the house is then assigned to them. After a reasonable period of time the visit is repaid and the presents reciprocated.

Very strict are the rules between men and women. On public occasions men and women keep to themselves in separate groups, and people from Gianyar are shocked to see the sexes mingle in Badung while watching a show. In the same manner the people of Badung are disgusted because in Tabanan men and women bathe near together. It is rude to look into a public bath and even worse to enter it unless to bathe. Then the other bathers become figuratively invisible. Great courtesy is shown even among people are intimate and it is extremely unusual for a man to get "fresh " with a girl in public; should it happen, the man would be severely punished. Thus a woman can confidently remain in her house while her male relatives are away at work, and a girl can go anywhere without fear of being, aproached by a stranger. Girls of high caste usually go chaperoned. Lovers are particularly careful not to show their emotions in public.

To neglect releasing a loud belch after a meal would be taken by the host as a sign that the food was not satisfactory. In general the Balinese are very frank in actions that would be out the question among us, such as clearing the throat, spitting, I so forth. These are perfectly normal actions no one needs, conceal.

But the key to Balinese etiquette among the castes consists in the language spoken and in keeping at the proper level. Under no circumstance should a common man stand higher than aristocrat. If a lowly person has to pass a nobleman who is sitting he stoops in front of him until he is reasonably far away, and to address his superior he must squat or sit on the ground clasping his hands together in front of his chest or over his left shoulder. To retire, after begging leave, he walks backwards, stooping holding his bands clasped.