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Rice and Ritual:
Dewi Sri's Gift
By:
Fred B. Eiseman, Jr.
One
can only use superlatives to describe
the beautiful irrigated rice fields of
Bali. Cut into the walls of the steep
slopes and valleys of Balis many
volcanoes, the terraces, often only a
few meters wide, tumble down from the
ridges like lines on a giant contour map.
After planting, the yellow green of the
young rice begins to appear above the
silvery pools of water and the seedling
is reflected as if by a giant mirror.
Two months later the terraces are deep,
rich green and a little later the rice
matures to a golden yellow. After harvesting
the straw is burned leaving ashy stubble
and dried-out, cracked ground.
The
rice paddies are also marvels of hydraulic
engineering, Streams are dammed far uphill
from the fields, and the water is directed
by hand-built aqueducts to fields far
away from the dams. Weirs and smaller
dams divide and re-divide the streams,
settling basins allow the silt and sand
to drop out, and finally the water reaches
the highest terraces.
Oryza sativa
has been under cultivation for six or
seven thousand years, and rice is the
staple diet of one-fourth of the worlds
population, including the 2.5 million
Balinese. In Bali a complex governmental
and village infrastructure organizes and
supervises rice growing and irrigation,
and a large body of religious observations,
prayers, ceremonies, offerings, festivals,
and obligations penetrate all aspects
of Balinese rice farming. Rice and rice
ritual occupy a major portion of the time,
energy, and money of the people of Bali.
Whereas
Westerners do fine with just one word
for rice, the Balinese need at least four.
Padi is both Balinese and Indonesian
for rice on the stalk, whence the English
word, paddy, which can mean
stalk rice or an irrigated rice field.
Jijih is the Balinese word
for unmilled rice that has been separated
from the stems (gabah in Indonesian).
Beras is the High Balinese
word for milled, uncooked rice (the Indonesian
word is the same). The common Balinese
word is baas. And cooked rice
is nasi. So important is rice
in the Balinese diet that most people
just use the word nasi to
mean food-any kind of food-assuming, naturally,
that the meal will consist mostly of rice.
This habit applies to other Indonesians
as well. Another term that is sometimes
used for rice is merta. This comes
from the Sanskrit word, amertha,
meaning not dead, and the
letter a was latter dropped
and the meaning changed somewhat to refer
to that which is essential for life-rice.
Rice
is further classified as ketan,
if it is sticky, glutinous rice, injin
if it is black, and barak
if it is red. These are the only colors
of rice that grow in Bali. But white,
red, and black represent only three of
the four sacred color-yellow is missing.
The story is that Siwa, God as dis-solver
of life, brought rice to the Balinese
from heaven through the agency of a bird.
He brought rice of the four sacred colors,
but the manifestation Batara Wisnu Sangwerti
ate all but a little of the yellow rice.
Wisnu planted what was left under the
eaves of his house, and it grew into the
turmeric plant, which the Balinese call
kunyit. When the Balinese
need yellow rice, as they do for many
offerings, they have to dye the write
rice yellow, kuning, using
turmeric. Yellow rice is most important
in offerings to be given on the day Kuningan.
As
recently as 1970 economists were concerned
that Balis burgeoning population
would cause a crisis in the food supply,
since all the available agriculture land
was already under intense cultivation.
At that time Bali had to import 10,000
tons of rice each year. But the crisis
has not come to pass. Starting in 1969
the International Rice Research Institute,
an international organization headquartered
in Los Banos, The Philippines, began to
introduce new, high-yield, disease- and
insect-resistant strains of dwarf rice.
Further research was conducted by the
Indonesian agriculture department at Bogor,
Java. Now, 15 years later, almost 90%
of all Balinese rice is of this new miracle
variety. Despite a population growth of
300,000 in the last ten years, Bali is
now a net exporter of tens of thousands
of tons of rice annually.
In
a purely emotional sense, the introduction
of the new rice to replace the old padi
bali is a pity. Padi bali
is a beautiful plant, about 140 centimeters
(55 in.) high, almost as tall as a man,
with a graceful, nodding head. When harvested,
the old style rice is tied into bales
and carried to the home rice storage barn,
jineng, on the heads of the
women who cut it. It is a picturesque
sight, and the harvest rituals, to be
described subsequently, culminate a traditional
series of practices that are beginning
to die out as the new rice spreads.
The
new strains are usually noted IR, standing
for International Rice Research Institute,
or PB, peta baru, referring to the Indonesian
strains developed in Bogor, or by the
symbol C. In all cases, the
letters are followed by numbers indicating
the particular strain. At the moment IR36
is the variety recommended most strongly
by the Department of Agriculture. The
Balinese call it tiga enam
(simply, 36). There is an
even newer variety appearing now, named
Beras Sedani. The Balinese say
it doesnt taste very good. It is
an aesthetic disaster compared with the
old style padi Bali.
How
good is the Balinese average compared
with that achieved with Western technology?
In the rice growing region of California,
everything is done by machine: lasers
are used to precisely level fields, airplanes
sow the seed and spray and fertilize the
crop, and enormous, electronically controlled
machines harvest the rice. In 1979 California
averaged 7,23 tons per hectare (2.9 tons/acre).
California, with one crop per year, out-produced
Bali (two crops per year), on a crop-by-crop
basis, but the reverse is true on an annual
basis. Labor- intensive Bali requires
somewhere around 750 man-hours per hectare
per crop, whereas California needs about
17.
Because
of Balis Dry season, from about
April through September, rice fields have
to be irrigated. The mountainous geography,
deep gorges, steep slopes, and rugged
terrain of the upland areas made it impossible
in the old days for an individual to provide
irrigation for his own fields all by himself.
So, groups of neighboring farmers banded
together and cooperated to tap the water
sources to bring the water to all of their
fields collectively. Present day subak
organizations are the descendants of those
who originally tapped these sources.
A
subak is a group of rice farmers
having adjacent fields, sawahs
that share a common water supply. Subaks
control irrigation, repair aqueducts and
dikes, and prevent theft of water and
the inevitable problems that arise among
neighbors. Today there are approximately
1,200 subaks in Bali, averaging
200 members each, with an average field
area of about 50 hectares. Everyone owning
land within the subaks area must
become a member. Members vote periodically
(the period varies from 5 to 10 years)
for a head, called pekaseh,
or kepala subak. The position
is unpaid, except that the kepala subak
is usually given extra water for his fields
and sometimes even extra land. Meetings
are held periodically, at which attendance
is compulsory. If a meeting is missed
a fine of up to Rp 250 is levied.
The
head of the subak has several assistants,
among the most important of which are
the pengliman, who us charge
of work projects, and the kelian
munduk, who oversees water distribution.
There is a standing joke that the best
man to pick as kelian munduk
is the one who owns the lowest rice fields,
since he will see to it that he gets his
share of water, and thus everyone in between
will get theirs too.
The
subak decides on all matters pertaining
to dates of planting and harvesting, appropriate
times for and kinds of offerings, ceremonies
to be held, control, cleaning, and repair
of dams, canals, and weirs, proper times
for fertilizing and using insecticides,
and the amount to be used, and where to
procure seed for the next crop. And every
subak maintains its own small
temple out in the fields where the principal
rice ceremonies are held and where the
deities associated with reside when invited
to earth. There are always many other
small shrines and temples scattered throughout
the sawah areas and almost
always near dams and weirs. But these
are individual shrines, or at most, are
erected and used by small groups of farmers.
The
practices vary considerably, but some
subaks are themselves associated
into still larger irrigation groups, which
perform the proper ceremonies at the sacred
mountain lakes, which the Balinese farmers
believe to be the ultimate sources of
their water. Perhaps the most important
pan-subak ceremonies designed to insure
a steady supply of irrigation water. Some
subaks make regular pilgrimages to this
temple just before the irrigation season
begins.
Indonesian
agriculture ministry officials work with
the subaks, but the two are
careful to maintain separate identities.
Each of Balis eight districts, kabupaten,
has an official from the department, the
sedahan agung. Under the sedahan
agung are several men, called sedahan
yeh, who oversee irrigation matters.
The department also maintains a staff
of field to guarantee floor prices, and
in charge of transporting, milling, and
storing rice for government stocks. Generally
speaking, the government and the subak
organizations get along efficiently and
with a minimum of friction.
No
Balinese deity is better loved and more
frequently and fervently worshiped than
Dewi Sri. She is the female aspect of
rice, and as with all other things in
the Balinese universe, she is both male
and female. Her dual image, usually called
Dewa Nini (nini is grandmother),
is invariably present in the sawahs
at harvest time and adorns every rice
barn. The figures are made out of rice
stalks right in the field. Fifty-four
stalks for the female figure and 58 for
the male are tied together to form the
two figures, so that the rice stalks form
a conical skirt. The tie point is the
pinched waist, and above the waist the
ends of the stalks are formed into a triangle
and decorated as a face. In the fields
of new rice the figures are made from
cut stalks. But in the padi bali
fields the dewa Ninis are made from stalks
still rooted in the earth.
This
double triangle or hour glass figure is
called cili, from the word
cantik, beautiful,
or benda kecil, small thing.
It is repeated endlessly in Balinese offerings
of every imaginable sort, and in paintings,
statues, woodcarvings, and every kind
of decoration. Woven of coconut leaf,
painted, plaited, chiseled, or hammered
into metal, the cili is the
symbol of Bali.
Rice
is more than just a useful crop. It is
life, amertha, and, as such, an
enormous and complex set of rituals accompany
every stage of its cultivation. These
may be from the tiny offerings, penampeh,
placed in the corners of a field to keep
animals away, to a huge, village-wide,
multy day temple ceremony, ngusaba nini,
involving weeks of preparation, thousands
of elaborate offerings, and hundred of
people. No hospital patient in intensive
care is watched more carefully than rice
as it develops, and no effort is spared
to nurture and protect the crop.
The
rice farming cycle begins about 25 days
before planting. An auspicious day is
chosen according to the rather complex
systems of Balinese calendars, both the
210-day Pawukon cycle and the Hindu-Balinese
Saka, a lunar calendar. The first event
is the hoeing of the sawah, called ngendang,
opening up. Before the tambah
(a hoe with tines like a rake) is used
to break up the dry ground and stubble
of the old crop, a small offering, peras
tulung, is carried into the field
on a tray. The offering, called kewangen,
contains plaited coconut-leaf shapes,
a Chinese coin, and the ingredients of
the betel chew. After a prayer, the essence
of the offerings is wafted toward the
field with a small basket, called a saab.
The offerings are placed on the ground
and sprinkled with holy water. And always
a bit of rice wine and palm brandy are
spilled on the ground for the evil spirits,
the butas and kalas.
Only
then can the hoeing begin. When this is
completed the sawah is flooded
with five to ten centimeters of water
and plowed with a wood and steel plow,
tenggala, pulled by one or
two cows. Water buffaloes arent
often used in Bali, but one does see some
gasoline- powered tractors nowadays. If
weeds are a problem, the plowed fields
may be dragged with a scraper, called
lampit. This may be a special
steel device or sometimes just a banana
log impaled on the tines of a hoe.
If
there is a pilgrimage to be made to Lake
Beratan or one of the other sacred lakes
to present offerings for a good supply
of irrigation water, it takes place at
this stage. Not many farmers in the Denpasar
area do this any more, but it used to
be common. Sometimes a ceremony, called
mapag toya is held when the
first irrigation water comes into the
sawah, but I did not witness
this.
Meanwhile,
a seedbed, pemulihan, is prepared
by enclosing a few square meters of the
irrigated field with dikes and surrounding
the area with woven coconut leaf or bamboo
mats to keep animals away. Practices differ
in preparing the seedling nursery. With
padi bali, the seeds of rice
used are left attached to the stalks and
are laid by hand, one by one, on the moist
ground, which is later flooded. With dwarf
rice the seeds are broadcast by hand into
the already flooded seedbed. In either
case, the seeds are soaked for two days
prior to planting in order to start germination.
And in both cases a small offering is
planted in the seedbed before the seeds
are laid down. The soaked seeds, called
binih, are brought to the
field in a bamboo basket.
The
planting of the seeds ceremony, ngawitan
ngurit, is accompanied by an offering
called a suyuk, and a small
kewangen, similar to that
described in the hoeing ceremony. The
more elaborate suyuk is a
small tray containing flowers and plaited
offerings made from coconut leaf, with
some colored rice and rice cakes. As with
the hoeing, a favorable day is always
required for starting the seed germination.
The
seedlings are allowed to grow for 20 to
25 days in the nursery. Three days before
they are transplanted, the fields are
fertilized with trisodium phosphate (TSP),
and then, just before planting, with urea.
Transplanting the seedlings is a group
activity, again occurring on a favorable
day. A team of men pull the seedlings
from their nursery bed, ngabut,
place them in bunches on round bamboo
trays, and carry them to the nearby field
that has been flooded, smoothed, and fertilized.
Before any seedlings are planted, a ceremony
called ngewiwith is performed.
Offerings are placed in one corner of
the sawah, prayed over, and
then nine seedlings are planted next to
the offerings, one in each of the cardinal
directions, one in the center, and one
in each of the intermediate directions.
This symbolism of the nine directions,
nawa sanga, occurs in a great
many religious ceremonies.
Now
the entire team starts the planting proper,
ngeberan. The trays of seedlings
are set upon the slippery mud ooze and
pushed from place to place as the barefoot
men thrust two to five seedlings into
the same hole that they poke into the
mud with their fingers. Holes are spaced
one hand width apart and are lined up
in neat rows. The planters are usually
hired for the occasion.
During
the first month after planting, ceremonial
practices vary considerably. Some farmers
make a small offering called pecaruwan
pengulapan suang-suang before the
rice is 17 days old and another small
one called bubuh tabah at
the age of 17 days. Others make a small
peneduhan offering at 20 or 21 days. After
35 to 40 days another urea fertilization
is recommended.
The
Balinese call a period of 35 days a bulan,
which is usually translated into the English
month. But this is kind of
confusing, because they have another word,
sasih, that means a lunar
month. At the end of the first 35 day
month a major offering called
nasi warna is made, consisting
of the four colors of rice. Some subaks
require a 42-day offering called esan,
usually just a woven coconut leaf decoration
planted in the field. At 55 to 60 days
the last urea fertilization is made. At
two months, at a ceremony called sayut
nagasari, an offering called bulayag
is carried to the fields. This consists
of rice cooked in a small woven container
of coconut leaves, plus the usual flowers,
rice wine, and holy water.
Now
the rice begins to ripen as the grains
start forming on the heads, padi
leg. The rice is said to be pregnant,
beling, as the ears fatten.
And this calls for renewed vigilance and
care, for it is now that the birds and
mice constitute a threat to the crop.
Scarecrows, petakut, are erected.
Bamboo poles are stuck into the ground
all over the rice fields, and long strings
are fastened to them. Then plastic bags,
bits of old clothing, anything that flaps
in the wind, is fastened to the strings
so that, from a distance, the field look
like masses of vibrating trash. Sometimes
the strings are all run to a little elevated
enclosure in the rice field in which a
small child sits. He pulls their ends,
animating the dance of a thousand plastic
bags. Older men and women walk through
the field shouting. Many of them use a
bird-scaring device called a kekepuakan,
which is a meter-long section of bamboo
cut almost all the way through longitudinally.
When held by the uncut end and waved,
the two halves clap together, producing
a loud, hollow noise. Windmills whir,
often activating ingenious noisemakers
of bamboo that bang and clatter as the
blades revolve.
Usually
small offerings containing lime, called
penampeh, are placed at the corners
of the fields to keep out animals and
insects. Modern farmers spray on insecticides
and rodenticides. The brown rice hopper,
wereng, is an especially dangerous
pest and can ruin a crop almost overnight.
Now
the new rice is starting to turn yellow
as harvest time approaches, but the padi
bali still has another month to
go. A three-month ceremony with offerings,
called miseh, is usually held,
but its importance is dwarfed by the upcoming
harvest rituals. Two weeks before harvest,
irrigation stopped, and the fields are
allowed to dry up. Just before harvest
almost all farmers hold the mabiukukung
ceremony in the fields. The name comes
from the offerings of coconut leaf that
are woven into shapes that look like bananas,
biu, or the cylindrical beehives,
kungkungn, that are common
in Bali. This ritual is more elaborate
than any thus far.
The rice harvest,
manyi, or gampung,
involves a lot of work by a large group
of people. The two different kind of rice
require two very different techniques.
Dwarf rice cannot be moved from the field
because the grains fall of the heads.
Traditional rice is always baled and carried
home, to be stored in the rice barn and
threshed as needed.
Padi
bali is cut stalk by stalk by a
crew of a dozen or more men and women,
chattering noisily as they work under
their huge bamboo hats in the shoulder
high grain. From a distance all you can
see are the hats. The rice knife for padi
bali is called anggapan.
It is almost concealed in the right palm-they
say that this is done so that the rice
will not be frightened by a big knife.
The slightly curved metal blade, about
4 by 10 centimeters (1.5 by 4 in.), is
held in a small horshoe-shaped wooden
frame. A small bamboo stick that is perpendicular
to the plane of the blade and frame fits
next to the palm to steady the knife.
The knife itself is held between the index
and second fingers of the right hand.
To cut the rice, a stalk is grabbed by
the thumb and index fingers above the
blade. Then, by rotating the wrist counterclockwise,
the knife-edge is brought into contact
with the stalk, and the third, fourth,
and little fingers below the blade wrap
around the stalk as it is severed from
the lower part. In this way each stalk
can be cut with one hand only. The cut
part is about 50 centimeters long. It
is transferred to the left hand, and the
process continued until the left hand
is full, making a bungle called a cekelan.
A
roving gatherer takes the handful and
combines it with nine more, making a tengah.
This is handed to a nearby man who is
in charge of making the lovely round bales,
called suwun, or depukan.
The baler collects 10 tengah
to make a total weight of about 10 to
12 kilograms, tis a bamboo string around
the bunch below the heads, and pounds
the stalk ends being up, heads down. The
bales and the ever-present Dewa Nini are
carried home at the end of the day on
the heads of the ladies. Men carry two
bales at a tim suspended from the ends
of a flat bamboo stick, tegen.
The harvesters are either paid in cash
or are given one out of every ten bales.
The
new rice, on the other hand, is cut close
to the ground by the handful, using a
sickle-shaped knife called an arit,
the handles of which are often seen stuck
in the back of the pants of rice farmers.
A canvas sheet is spread on the ground
nearby, on top of which a board, penatapan,
is propped up in a frame. The board is
long enough to accommodate several threshers
at once. Women grasp bundles of rice at
the bottom end and whack them down over
the board. Three or four whacks are usually
enough to dislodge all of the grains in
the handful. The grains fall in a pile
beyond the board, the straw is discarded,
and a new bundle is threshed. The straw
is pilled up and burned, which returns
valuable minerals, especially calcium,
to the soil. In rice harvesting season
the slopes of the mountains are enveloped
in smoke for days.
Unless
the resulting jijih is to
be used for home consumption it is usually
sold right on the spot, often to government
buyers. Thus, although there are always
Dewa Ninis nearby, there is no picturesque
carrying home of the bales, nor are any
of the interesting procedures carried
out that have to do with blessing the
rice barn and storing the newly cut padi
bali therein. These will be described
subsequently.
The
largest subak rice ceremony,
ngusaba nini, is held in the
subak temple in the fields.
Some groups hold it just before harvest,
some just after. It is a thanksgiving
to Dewi Sri for the gift of herself. Sometimes
ngusaba nini is a village-wide
ceremony, held rarely and requiring months
of preparation and involving hundreds
of people.
Most
ngusaba nini ceremonies are
not nearby so elaborate. Sometimes slightly
more elaborate ones are alternated with
rather small ones, just as is done in
the case of temple anniversary festivals,odalans,
in many areas.
When
all was ready, a pemangku
sat down on the mats behind the offerings
inside the temple and invited God to descend
and receive thanks. Then he dedicated
the offerings to Gods pleasure,
wafting the essence of the offerings toward
the many shrines with the usual basket.
He did not forget the butas
and the kalas. Rice wine and
palm brandy were spilled on the ground
for them too. And smoldering incense helped
the prayers travel to God and His various
manifestations to whom the shrines within
the temple were dedicated. Members of
the subak sat behind the priest,
and all prayed in the Balinese fashion,
thumbs against the forehead, fingers of
both hands pressed together in front,
a flower held between. Then the women
carried some of the offerings around to
the various shrines, placed a few in each,
and sprinkled holy water on the shrines.
Finally, all the men paraded around the
inside of the temple carrying the big
rice cone and shouting loudly in thanks.
The cone was returned to the ground, and
it and the suckling pig were cut up for
distribution to the subak
members.
The final ceremony of the
rice cycle, mengetam,
is only performed in areas where padi
bali bales are brought home to be
stored in the rice barns. A rice barn,
jineng, has a very steepy
sloping roof and is always built far up
off the ground on pillars to prevent access
by rodents. The little door is reachable
only by a long bamboo ladder. The storage
area is, so to speak, the second floor,
and the space below is nice and shady
and is often used for lounging, storage,
or other purposes. There is almost always
a horizontal structure built between the
posts that can be used as a sitting area
or a bed.
When
the rice barn is elaborately decorated.
A tall bamboo pole, penjor,
is set up nearby, with coconut leaf decorations
on top and an offering on the end. Plaited
palm leaf plaques, lamaks,
and colorful pieces of cloth are hung
from the rice barn door. Baskets of offerings,
called soda anyar, and peras
pengambian, are prepared for the
inside of the barn storage area. And some
small triangular offerings, called segehan,
are made for the butas and
kalas. Then the Dewa Nini
is carried up to the barn door on a ladys
head and handed to another person inside,
who places it beside her sisters, left
over from previous harvests. The offerings
are spread out on top of the newly cut
rice bales, and prayers of thanks are
offered.
There
is not as much straw in padi bali
fields as in dwarf rice fields, because
some of it is carried home to the barn.
But the padi bali fields are
burned too, often enveloping the rice
growing areas in impenetrable smog for
weeks on end. Although three crops of
new rice could conceivably be raised per
year, experience dictates that the fields
should be allowed to rest for a few months,
or else a legume crop such as soybeans
is planted to enrich the soil. The growing
season for padi Bali is too
long to permit more than two crops per
year, sometimes only one.
Like most rice-eating people,
the Balinese insist upon having their
rice white, with husk and germ removed-and
with them, almost all of the fat, protein,
and vitamin B1 (hence the prevalence of
pellagra here some year ago, caused by
vitamin B1 deficiency). With padi
bali, removal of the brown parts
is usually, but not always, done at home
by removing a small bundle, sepingan,
from a bale, and pounding the rice, nebuk,
with a two-meter-long pole. The rice is
either put on the ground or, if the family
has one, placed in a long wooden trough,
the lessung. A wooden pole
with a steel bottom is used first, the
buntar, followed by an all-wooden
pole, called a lu. The pole
is pounded alternately with the left and
right hands in a rhythmic cadence until
the husk and bran are stripped off. Then
the pounded rice is put on a large bamboo
tray and winnowed by tossing it into the
air and letting the wind blow off the
chaff.
Most
new rice, and some of the traditional
rice, is milled in a factory called a
slip. There are 1,448 of them
in Bali, so one is never very far away.
The slips buy rice outright,
mill it, and sell the resulting beras
in 100 kilograms sacks. Alternatively,
an individual may bring in his own jijih,
wait in line, and have it milled on the
spot for about Rp. 5 per kilogram. The
mill usually has a large concrete area
out in front upon which the rice is sun-dried
before milling.
The
mill itself consists of gasoline or diesel
powered counter-rotating wheels with special
abrasive coatings that wrench the outer
parts off the seed while doing a minimum
of damage to the white part. The rice
passes through the wheels and then falls
though a stream of air as it descends
into shaking screens below. The screens
and the air separate the products into
four parts. The large, light husks are
blown through a big pipe to the outside
of the mill. They are good for nothing
but fuel. Inside the mill, three streams
emerge from the machinery. One is the
white rice, beras, ready for
the pot. A second contains the very light,
feathery bran and attached germ. This
material, called oot alus,
is widely used as a pig food. The third
stream consists of somewhat coarser fragments
of the bran and the finer fragments of
husk. It is called oot pesak
or oot kasar. It may be used
for pigs if one cannot afford the better
oot alus. Often it is burned
or just thrown away.
Beras
bali can be easily distinguished
by sight from grains of PB or IR beras.
Beras bali is a short-grain
rice, while the newer dwarf rice is long
grained. Beras bali usually
sells for a premium price because it is
somewhat scarce and because people prefer
its taste. In 1985 beras Bali
cost about Rp 400 per kilogram, with the
dwarf varieties selling at around Rp50
to Rp100 per kilogram less. Very little
back rice and glutinous rice, including
the red variety, is raised, compared to
ordinary jijih. These sell
for even higher prices. But they are always
available in the markets because they
are needed for offerings of all kinds.
Black rice is used to make rice wine,
brem, which is a very popular
drink, both among tourists and Balinese.
The latter often mix it with a bit of
arak, the distilled brandy
made from palm beer, tuak.
The
Indonesian government subsidizes the price
of rice in order to keep it affordable.
Huge rice storage warehouses have been
built on the outskirts of Denpasar. The
Balinese call them dolog.
All government employees are paid partly
in rice, or, to be more accurate, in coupons
that can be exchange for rice. If an employee
marries, his or her monthly ration is
increased. If he has a child it is increased
again. But, to encourage family planning,
this increase does not go on indefinitely.
At the moment, allowance for three children
is the maximum. Some private companies
pay partly with rice also.
The Balinese cook rice
in a great variety of ways, but the most
common methods are steaming and boiling.
The rice is always winnowed first, to
remove bits of dirt and husk. This is
accomplished by putting the required amount
in a round tray and tossing the contents
lightly up into the air, letting the breeze
blow away impurities. The Balinese are
very finicky about dirt or other impurities
in their nasi. Then the rice
is washed in cold water, so as to remove
the chalky exterior of the grains.
To
make steamed rice, which is called nasi
kuskus, the cleaned rice is placed
in a loosely woven bamboo container that
is in the form of a cone, especially made
just for steaming rice, the pengukusan.
The
bamboo steamer with beras
in it is placed in the upper, funnel-shaped
part of the dangdang, an hour-glass-shaped
metal pot, into which it just fits. A
hole is made in the rice with a wooden
stick, the siut, to allow
the steam to penetrate all the grains.
The boiling water fills the lower part
below the constriction or waist of the
pot, and the top of the rice in the steamer
to keep the heat and steam from escaping.
Steaming
takes place for about half an hour. Since
this tends to dry the rice out, it is
removed from the steamer to a clay container,
the pane, or gembor,
and a little hot water is added. After
15 or 20 minutes the rice, having soaked
up the water, is returned to the steamer
and steamed for another half hour until
done.
Alternatively
the housewife, my elect to prepare boiled
rice, nasi jakan. This is
simple and fast, but most Balinese prefer
their rice steamed. To boil the rice,
cleaned rice is stirred into water boiling
in a clay pot , called a payuk,
or a metal pot, the panci.
A wooden stirring stick is used to mix
up the contents until the water boils
again. Boiling is allowed to continue
for about half an hour. Inevitably a little
of the rice in the bottom burns a bit
and forms kind of browned cake, which
is a favorite of the children of the family,
who take it out and munch on it all day
along.
The
Balinese cook rice twice a day, in the
morning and in the evening. It is never
reheated, but it is often kept in a large
insulated container until it is ready
to eat. They do not mind if it is cold,
which it almost inevitably is by the time
it is eaten. Rice is never kept over until
the next day, because the taste deteriorates
rapidly without refrigeration.
Another
very common way of preparing rice is by
making one of the several varieties of
ketipat. A ketipat
is a kind of box woven of coconut leaves,
made very loosely, but not so open that
the rice grains fall out. Beras
is put inside, through one of the spaces
between the leaves by prying an opening
apart. The ketipat is then
put into the rice steamer, or boiled in
the pot. The rice swells to fill the container,
and the result is a package of rice that
the husband can take to the field for
a snack or the kids can take to school,
or that can be used as an offering.
Rice
cakes, jaja, are characteristic
of most of Indonesian, but Bali has more
varieties than any other area. There are
many kind of cakes, each with a different
name, and each serving a specific purpose.
Many are made for offerings, and the markets
are overflowing with them when important
religious ceremonies are imminent. But
lots are consumed daily for snacks, and
they are delicious. They are so numerous
and are made in so many different ways
that it would be folly to try to attempt
a dissertation of jaja in
this essay.
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