On Tuesday, October 25, we were invited to the home of Mr. Dewa for a lesson in cooking traditional Balinese food and then staying for dinner. Mr. Dewa lives in a village near our hotel, and along with putting us to work chopping vegetables, making chicken dumplings in banana leaves, creating coconut milk from grated coconut, and getting me to stir fry on his wood burning stove, he explained the traditional Balinese way of life to us as we worked.
A word about photos — although Mr. Dewa did not mind me taking photos, it feels so intrusive to me to walk into someone’s home and begin shooting everything as if I were looking at strange exotic animals. Plus it was dark and raining so a bit hard to get the camera adjusted and still keep up my end of the chopping. But I did snap some shots although they may not be as focused and composed as I would like.
Mr. Dewa explained that his home had been in the family for 1300 years and is constructed according to law (tribal? Village? Not exactly sure). That law mandates that there be a wall surrounding the property, a gate, a family temple taking up 10% of the land. Living space can consume 30% of the property and the rest must be used for a garden. There are laws governing the amount of livestock and how often a family may slaughter for food. “Most of our food is our medicine”, Mr. Dewa explained to us, giving us different forms of ginger to sniff (who even knew there was more than one) and explaining the properties. “We live in the open” he continued, waving to a double bed under a roof but without walls. “Four generations live here and we all sleep together”. No way 4 couples fit in that bed so maybe he meant that they all sleep in that area.
“Mosquitoes never bother us,” claimed Mr. Dewa. “Why?” He then answered his own question. “Because every day we drink hot water with lemongrass and the lemongrass makes our bodies repel the mosquitoes”.
One of the most memorable things he told us (although it was all pretty memorable) was that by law each couple can have only two children, and to keep property in the family it is desirable to have one boy and one girl so that is what they arrange. How? “It is hard to explain scientifically”, claimed Mr. Dewa with a patient, good-natured and toothy grin. “But we plan according to the phases of the moon and the menstrual cycle and it usually works”.
I did not want to be rude and grill him on the finer points of this system with questions like “what if it doesn’t work?”. Later I asked our guide and he said they have various ways of dealing with two girls — one will marry and stay in the family home and the other maybe not, depending on who she marries. Two boys may be trickier and require the acquisition of more land or constructing more living space.
“We do not need money for we produce everything we need and so money is not a problem. During the covid we had no problems because death is just a natural thing for us (I did not ask how much disease hit the village or if people suffered greatly. But I wondered.) “We produced vegetables and rice and gave them to the people in other places who needed them to live. In fact, covid helped the village because the government gave money to villages and we could use this for electricity and solar panels.” Mr. Dewa smiled serenely. “We are always very grateful for what we are given.”
In the meantime Ira and I were chopping, mixing, smashing vegetables into paste, measuring and mixing ingredients according to his instructions.
The dinner was delicious. Corn fitters, steamed chicken dumplings, bean curd which was deep fried and then sauteed, chopped salad, mild chicken curry, rice, and fried bananas for dessert. According to custom, Ira and I were totally silent during the meal which was served to us alone at one of the huge teak tables. Custom dictates silence during dinner because at the end of a workday people have likely accumulated negative energy. Therefore it is better to keep the negative energy away from the food so it is not further ingested. Family members speak after the meal but not during it.
I took a blurry photo of Mr. Dewa and the two women who did much of the work in prepping the meal (daughter and wife? Not sure)
We bowed, thanked him, and said goodbye. “I am always happy to welcome foreigners into my home so they can learn how we live,” Mr. Dewa bowed, bidding us farewell.
