Dear Karass,
There is something that has been bothering me ever since I arrived in Bali. It is a kind of memory hanging in the ether, a ghostly echo of a life I recognize, a seat of well-being in the midst of anxiety. Have I turned round the bend and become a yoga-mat toting, wheat grass chugging, psycho psychic, tantric, feeling the universe breath and sweating out tears of the Buddha in this paradise hinterland? Of course not! I'm simply referring to the realization that the reason I feel so at home here is that the Balinese behave almost exactly like a big Jewish family.
Let's examine the facts: (This e-mail might at times make it seem like I'm being stereotypical. I am. Just go with it)
When I am at the restaurant, the standard thing that I hear from the staff, both male and female, nearly every five minutes is, "sudah makan?" or "have you eaten yet?" It is like an annoying, yet somehow soothing mantra that makes me want to alternately scream and run away with an Irish Catholic, or curl up with a plate of rice, right there where I belong.
The waitress Putri, "Allo Alek, sudah makan?" "Ya, sudah."
The chef, "sudah makan?"
The manager, "sudah makan?"
Ok, ok, I get it, I'll go get some food!! So I go get some of the wonderful and fiery kitchen food and go sit down. Whereupon, without fail, someone will walk by and say, "why you eat so little?!!"
I can sometimes, if I listen very closely, detect a slight New York twang in their voices as though what they really mean to say is, "Eat somethin' will ya! You're awl skin and bones!" It's gotten so incessant that I went out and got shirts made for work that have "sudah makan" silk-screened across the chest. This way when someone asks me for the eighteenth time if I have eaten, I just smile, point to my shirt and go about my business.
I have already discussed the fact that they are always trying to marry me off to someone. They are very family oriented, these Balinese. In fact, the center of all life is tied directly to the family, the local community and to religion. There are nearly constant ceremonies to attend and these are both religious, social, and spiritual events. For a nice Balinese boy, a tooth filing ceremony is the best place to meet chicks!!
They have TONS of superstitions. A good example is that they never go anywhere on their motorbikes without a jacket. It has to do with their phobia of wind. Colds are called Masuk Angin or 'entering/letting in wind'. This phenomena is not limited to their motorbikes. It could literally be humid and 95 degrees out and they will insist on turning the fan off in the kitchen then turning to me and saying, "sangat panas!" or "damn hot today!" Once again, I hear the voice of my grandmother in Florida telling me to put a coat on so I don't "catch my death of cold."
So what do I do? I go to get a glass of ice water.
"No drink ice Alek! Make belly big!!"
"Are you telling me that drinking ice water will make me fat?"
"Ya. Make fat."
This, after they just put out a staff meal of fried chicken livers, gizzards, and hearts, and a big mound of fried vegetables topped with fried shallots (I swear I do not make any of this stuff up). At first I engaged with their superstitions. I would say in my broken Indonesian, "why does ice water make you fat?" They would respond, "I don't know." "Am I fat?" (in fact I've lost most of my North Country insulation) "No" they always respond. So I follow up with what I'm sure is a conversation ender. "See, I drink ice water. I'm not fat. What do you think now?" To which they reply, "still no drink ice. Make belly big." I even learned how to say, "ice doesn't make you fat...Fat makes you fat!" in Indonesian, but that didn't work either. Now what I do is tell them that only Bali people get fat from ice but it doesn't work on Americans. That is my secret weapon for which they have no defense. After all, we are an exotic and mysterious people.
In addition to their traditional anxiety that I might not be eating enough, their failure to understand being post-pubescent and unmarried, and their fear that I might suddenly stop sweating for a few minutes, they are also very concerned about my safety on the road. Whenever I go anywhere on my motorbike there is a chorus of people who call out, "Hati-Hati, Alek" which means 'be careful', but really 'hati' means either 'liver' or 'heart'. I like where this takes my imagination. The roads are dangerous so I must follow my heart...or maybe my liver. It makes no sense but I dig it. I also imagine that what they really mean to say is "liver-liver!" No doubt they just love liver and want me to remember to pick some up at the store while I'm out.
I can't imagine my case being any more obvious. It is no wonder that Jews all over the world are drawn to Hinduism and Buddhism. It is not that we are spiritual seekers in search of truth or have found other paths and places that resonate more in our souls. Rather, it is that we leave these places well fed, well cared for, thinner, closer to an extended community or three, and, quite often, married. There is also a mostly comfortable level of anxiety that comes from this overbearing hospitality. What could remind us more of the comforts of home than that?
This brings me to part 2 of this e-mail entitled- "Other words I love in Bali"
The first is "Jiggy Jig", the slang word for sex. Did Will Smith come back from a trip to Bali and decide to write the song "Gettin' jiggy with it"?
The second is "terrorist." Forgetting for a moment the deeper irony of the comparison, this is what they call tourists because the words sound the same to them.
The last three are phrases/words in the English language that have their origin in Indonesia. They are:
To run amok- In Indonesian, this is spelled Amuk and means to go berserk. Nothing too surprising there.
The Boogy Man- Apparently there were a group of pirates from Silawesi called the Buggi. They were quite notorious and though I don't think they targeted children, they were certainly scary enough to keep you up at night.
Orangutan- Isn't this a great word? Orang means 'people'. Utan means 'forest'. I always loved the idea that man had more or less descended from the great apes.
There you have it! Balinese culture distilled down to it's very essence in only one page. Plus, some cool words. Hope all is well. I love hearing from you all. Keep the e-mails coming.
Love,
Alex
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