IN THE WEST OKE IS ACCUSTOMED TO A WORLD BUILT UPON OPPOSITES: sacred and profane, positive and negative, constructive and destructive, male and female. The Balinese also recognize this polarity, which they call rwa bineda. But in the Judeo-Christian tradition, these opposites are presented as mutually exclusive choices: either one does/is good, or one does/is evil. In the Hindu- Balinese scheme, this division is neither so stark, nor at all exclusive. And it includes what can be considered a third position, "center," which balances the other two.
In Bali, the position of mankind is one between good and evil or, more appropriately stated, in a state of coexistence with them. Mankind's job is not to destroy evil. Nothing in the teachings of Balinese Hinduism requires or even mentions this. Evil is a part of the whole, and good is a part of the whole. Neither can exist without the other. Instead, the life of any Balinese is devoted to maintaining a balance between these opposing forces maintaining an equilibrium so that neither gets the upper hand. This notion of three forces, overlapping and interdependent, the three together constituting a whole, lies close to the center of Hindu theology. Even the most casual tourist learns of the Hindu triad - Brahma, Wisnu, and Siwa. But this is only one of the myriad tripartite classifications that organize Balinese society. This grouping by threes, or tri hita krana, governs ideology and activities as grand as cosmology, and as humble as building a toilet.
For most busy Westerners the airport is where the freeway arrow points; north is where you ski in the winter; "up" is a button on the elevator. We don't assign special importance to orientation, except possibly to choose a house for its nice view. Direction is instrumental in the West. "How do I get to the hospital?" Answer: "Head down the street that way (pointing), and turn that way (pointing)." And except to the extent that it enables us to get where we"re going, a sense of direction means little to us. But orientation is exceedingly important to the Balinese. In Bali, a direction describes a vector not just in physical space, but in cultural, religious, and social "space" as well. As a result, every Balinese seems to possess a built-in sense of direction. And if for some reason this feeling is lacking, the individual is visibly uncomfortable and disoriented.
A few years ago my friend and associate I Wayan Budiasa came to live at my home in the United States. He arrived about noon in early winter when the sun was low and in the south. From then on, that direction was east to him because in Bali, just a few degrees south of the equator, the sun is near the horizon only at sunrise and sunset. He quickly learned, intellectually, that this direction was south, not east, but he felt that it was cast, and no amount of intellectualizing could change that first visual impression. He learned to say south, but he still felt east. It bothered him for the entire two years that he lived in the United States.
ORIENTATION IN BALI begins with the sacred mountain, Gunung Agung, which stands 3,142 meters high in the eastern central part of the island. Gunung (Mount) Agung is the dwelling place of the Hindu gods. Toward the mountain is called kaja. Because Gunung Agung is in a fairly central location, kaja is a variable direction. It is north for inhabitants of South Bali and south for those who live in North Bali.Whether north or south, it is always "up," the sacred direction toward God. Antipodal to kaja is kelod, seaward, toward th e lower elevations and away from the holy mountain. Kelod is "down," less sacred than kaja, even impure. The second-most sacred direction, after kaja, is kangin, "east," the direction from which the sun, an important manifestation of God, rises. Kangin's opposite to the west, kauh, is correspondingly less sacred.
The eight compass directions consist of four cardinal points - kaja, kangin, kelod, kauh - and their intercardinal divisions - kaja-kangin, kelod-kauh, etc. To these are added the position, center. In each of these nine directions dwells a separately-named aspect of God, each aspect having its associated color and characteristics. Sometimes the symbolism is extended to cover all three dimensional space by adding two more directions, up and down. For example, once every hundred years an enormous islandwide ceremony is held to exorcise evil forces, to drive them off into the eleven directions of all space. The name of this ceremony, Eka Dasa Rudra, comes from the Sanskrit expression for eleven, eka dasa.
This kaja/kelod, sacred/profane, high/low concept is deeply ingrained in the Balinese psyche. Villages are aligned kaja-kelod. The cemetery and the temple called Pura Dalem, dedicated to Siwa, or to his wife, Durga, are located at the kelod end. And the villagers locate the Pura Puseh, the temple dedicated to Wisnu, on the kaja, upslope end. Each temple, and there arc tens of thousands of them in Bali, is itself oriented kaja-kelod. The most sacred inner part of the temple, containing the holy shrines, is kaja and higher than, and divided by a gate from, the more secular courtyards of the temple complex.
Every house compound is oriented kaja-kelod. The family temple is in the most sacred position, kaja-kangin. The head of the household lives in the most kaja building in the compound. Everyone sleeps with his or her head toward either kaja or kangin, the sacred directions for the head that together are called luan. The directions for the feet, kelod or kauh, are called teben. One would not put a door or a clothes closet on the luan side of the bedroom. The kitchen and granary are kelod. Furthest kelod, often kelod-kauh, are the animal pens and the garbage dump.
To understand orientation on Bali, one must make what may at first seem to be a very fine distinction between "direction" and "place." Since kelod, towards the sea, is the direction away from the seat of purity, the assumption is sometimes made that the sea is the least sacred place of all. This is an error. In fact, the Balinese consider the sea to be a place of exceptional purity. Directions are relative, not absolute. Kelod is an impure direction. A man dumps garbage and keeps his pigs at the kelod end of his house compound. His family temple is at the kaja-kangin corner. Yet this same man's neighbor, who lives directly kaja, dumps his garbage and keeps his pigs at the kelod end of his house compound - just over the dividing wall from the most sacred part of his neighbor's house.
The daily attitudes and behavior of the Balinese reflect this highly oriented, directional space. In situations in which Westerners would point or say "left" or "right,'" or “here'" or “there,” the Balinese use compass directions. If a group of men arc carrying a heavy load that must be placed in a particular spot they will shout to each other: “A little more kaja - now a bit kangin- there, now, set it down.'" If you visit a mend and are invited into his home he may say: "Come kaja and sit down next to me in this chair to the kauh." When giving directions for travel a Balinese will always say something like: "Go a little farther kangin, turn kaja at the crossroads, and you will find his house on the kauh side of the road."
THIS INTERLOCKING SET OF HORIZONTAL AND VERTICAL ORIENTATIONS is a consequence of the Hindu conception of cosmic structure and organization. Man is a tiny part of the overall Hindu-Balinese universe, but he contains its structure in microcosm. Man's body has three parts - head, body, and feet - just as the universe, macrocosm, has three parts: the upper world of God and heaven, the middle world of man, and the underworld. Man is a kind of scale model of the universe, with exactly the same structure - as is the island of Bali, and each village, temple, house compound, building, and occupant on it. The interlocking, related structures and orientations produce balance, the goal of Hinduism. Unless a Balinese can orient him self properly in this universe of balance, dictated by kaja and kelod, up and down, he feels uncomfortable and lost because he is not in harmony with his environment and the forces of good and evil within it. His gyroscope is not set. There is nothing to guide him.
The Balinese conceptualize the entire universe, the macrocosmos, as being structured on three levels. In the middle is the world of man, called bhuwah (sometimes spelled buwah) or bhuwah loka in Sanskrit. Above lies heaven, suarga, to which man's spirit will return after death, cremation, and purification, finally to be reincarnated in another physical form in bhuwah. Heaven is the realm of the prime mover, Ida Sanghyang Widi Wasa, and the positive forces of the cosmos, the division called swah, or swah loka. The highest level of swab, moksa, or nirwana, is that state to which an exceedingly pure and holy spirit can aspire - once there freed from the ceaseless cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
Below the world of man is bhur, or bhur loka, the location of hell, neraka, where man's spirit is punished for its earthly misdeeds. This punishment is meted according to the principle of karma-pala, where every earthly deed, karma, results inevitably in a pala ("fruit"), which may be punishment in hell or reward in heaven, or usually, since man's deeds are sometimes good, sometimes bad, both. Bhur is also the dwelling place of Bedawang Nala, the world turtle, who carries the earth on his back and whose restless stirrings produce Bali's frequent earthquakes. The name is derived from wedawang,'"boiling water," and nala, "fire," the mixture that constitutes the magma that finds its way to the surface through Bali's many volcanoes. Bedawang Nala is always accompanied by the two dragon-snakes, Naga Basuki and Naga Anantaboga, which represent man's earthly needs safety, food, shelter, and clothing. Bhur is also the dwelling place of the negative forces of the world, the evil spirits called bhutas and kalas, which ceaselessly interfere with man's peaceful daily routines and attempt to upset the equilibrium between positive and negative forces that man so painstakingly tries to maintain.
The bhur-bhuwah-swah triptych is found everywhere in Bali. Every temple has a stone or brick, or today sometimes concrete, padmasana, a shrine that represents the macrocosmos, with turtle and dragons below, the empty seat of surya, the sun, on top, and the world of man in between. Many Balinese cremation ceremonies feature gaudily decorated towers, wadah, with the same symbolism. The details of the wadah may be clearly, and sometimes colorfully, depicted: leafy forests, mountains, and a kind of house representing bhuwah in the middle; a series of tiered roofs representing mahameru, the holy world-mountain, on top; and the world-tunic, the nagas entwined about him, representing bhur below.
The cycle of life has three divisions: birth, life, and death. A newborn baby whose spirit has just arrived from heaven is treated like a god. Similarly, a very old person, whose spirit will shortly return again to heaven, is shown the greatest respect - like that accorded holy people. Everywhere one finds triple shrines, triple niches, and triple platforms of lotus leaves made of stone, brick, or wood to accommodate the Hindu triad.
The structure of man, the microcosmos, is divided into three parts corresponding to those of the macrocosmos. In fact, the same Sanskrit word, bhuana, is used to describe both man's body and the universe. The former is bhuana alit, the small body, the latter bhuana agung, the large body. The three divisions of man are: head, body, and feet. The head is holy, the seat of the soul. A waitress at a tourist restaurant apologizes before putting a flower behind your ear, as docs the barber before he begins his work. You never see a Balinese ruffle up a child's hair in greeting, as is so common in the West. Holy offerings arc invariably carried on the head, as is holy water. Conversely the feet are dirty, being in contact with the earth and antipodal to the head. Pointing with a foot or stepping on or over an offering or other sacred object is a dreadful breach of etiquette. For an ordinary person to position himself at a higher elevation than a high priest or a holy object, such as a temporary residence of a god of deified ancestor, is not only rude but sacrilegious. When a sacred object, such as the mythic Barong, is present the Balinese audience sits on the ground. Many Balinese will not enter a two-story building, lest something impure be located over their heads.
Clothing is considered dirty and profane, even when it has been carefully washed. This is especially true of women's clothing that may have been contaminated by menstrual blood. The Balinese consider that menstruation makes a woman unclean and impure, and during her period she cannot participate in any sort of religious activity. The clothes worn by a woman at the time of childbirth, which may be bloodstained, are especially impure, and are often dried in a place away from other clothes. Putting clothes on a temple wall is a sacrilege. No Balinese would ever walk under a clothesline on which clothes are hung out to dry - even men's clothes, because some of them may have been in contact with the lower, less pure, parts of the body. Even watching someone else walk under drying clothes gives some Balinese headaches. In the past, Balinese farmers would string up a rope around their fields to prevent trespassing. To insure that nobody would dare duck under the rope, dirty clothes were tied to it.
Even the Balinese language reflects a division into three levels that have spatial referents. One uses low,or common Balinese when speaking to family and close friends. Medium Balinese is for strangers and people of higher caste. And high,or refined Balinese is used when speaking to high priests or when referring to sacred objects or ceremonies. Other investigators may find even more than three divisions, but even those will be subsets of the three major categories. The three levels are not just different dialects of the same basic language. For example, the word for water is yeh in common Balinese, toya in medium, and tirtha in high Balinese. Common and high Balinese arc based upon two completely different linguistic origins, with the medium language, in many cases, a kind of combination of the two.
Many common nouns arc acceptable in all three levels. But verbs relating to human actions, and nouns that refer to body parts and human activities, are quite different in the three levels. It is considered very improper to address a stranger in low Balinese, even though he or she is just a seller in a market stall. And, since few ordinary people are fluent in high Balinese, it is common, when seeking the services of a high priest, to take along a scholarly friend who is fluent. Interestingly enough, the high priest, well educated and knowledgeable, speaks to all lower people in the rough familiar tongue, whereas the commoner, often illiterate, is expected to speak all three levels of the language.
THE BALINESE VILLAGE is not just a collection of houses and public buildings and stores. Rather, like man, the cosmos, and the language, it too has three parts. It has a kaja-oriented head, upslope and hence higher than the rest of the village. It has a kelod-oriented foot; lower because nearer the sea. Its main body is in the middle, where most of the daily activities of the people occur. And there are three temples. In the center is the village temple, the Pura Desa, the original temple of the first settlers, hence dedicated to Brahma, the creator. In the kaja direction is the Pura Puseh, dedicated to Wisnu, the preserver of life, since the life-giving waters come from the mountains and Wisnu is always associated with water. In the kelod direction is the village cemetery and the Pura Dalem, sometimes incorrectly called the "death temple," dedicated to Siwa, dissolver and recycler of the spirit, or to Durga, Siwa's wife.
Each temple itself is divided into three parts. In the upslope, kaja, direction is the jeroan, the inner sanctum, which contains the sacred shrines. It is clearly divided from the rest of the temple by a wall and a huge gate, the kori agung, decorated with a prominent carving of a leering face, bhoma, whose fangs and bulging eyes keep evil forces away from the holiest part of the temple. If the land is relatively flat the jeroan is elevated by a built-up base of stone or earth. The middle section of the temple is called jaba tengah, and serves as a transitional area between sacred and secular spaces. It contains storage rooms, the temple kitchen, and pavilions for arranging offerings before they are taken into the sacred jeroan. Separated from the middle area by another wall and a large split gate, the candi bentar, is the most kelod, hence the lowest and least sacred courtyard. It is called jaba, meaning "outside." Here secular activities are permitted: food stalls are set up at festival time and people relax, play cards, cat, and chat.
In each of the three temple areas only specific kinds of artistic performances are permitted during the usual three-day period of an anniversary festival. Only the most sacred performances of music and dance, called wali, are permitted in the jeroan. These are usually quite serious productions and attendance is limited to those of appropriate status and position. Performances of the middle courtyard are classified as bebali, and are more dramatic and secular in nature than the performances of the inner temple, but still have considerable religious significance.In the outer temple one finds secular performances, called balih-balihan, presented chiefly to enter tain a human audience. There are very few traditional dances or other performances that do not have some sort of religious significance.
Every Balinese belongs to a neighborhood association, the banjar, which has from one hundred to several hundred members. Each banjar has a meeting hall, the bale banjar, which is always divided into three parts: the banjar temple, the secular meeting place, and the kitchen.
In a manner exactly analogous to these public structures, every traditional Balinese house compound is organized into three divisions. The family temple, like the jeroan, separated by a wall and gate, is built in the kaja-kangin corner of the compound. The family living quarters, usually consisting of several separate buildings called bales, form the middle of the unit. Most kelod in this section are the kitchen and the rice barn. And most kelod of all, constituting the third and most profane part of the compound, are the animal pen, the kandang, and the garbage pit. Within the house compound, each building displays an analogous structureroof, the "head"; pillars, the "body"; and foundation, the "feet."
Before a bale is occupied, the Balinese purify it, a ceremony of offerings and special prayers bringing it to life. Today this same practice is observed even when a building is not a traditional bale, but is constructed of modern materials. After the ceremony, the house is no longer a mere collection of wood, stone, and roofing materials, but is a living analog of the tripartite Balinese world. On auspicious occasions, the house is decorated just as a Balinese would dress. A colorful strip of cloth, the ider-ider, is wrapped around the roof of the bale, just like the traditional head cloth, the udeng, that all Balinese men wear. The body-pillars are decorated with colored cloth, pangaput sasaka, just like the skirtlike saput that men wear wrapped around their loins on ceremonial occasions. The personification of the house points out the theological principle implicit in the Balinese organization by threes. The replication of analogous trinities is not just a convenient way to organize the world; it is a way to epitomize the organic connectedness and interrelatedness of all things, natural and artificial. For example, not only does a Balinese home exhibit the same tripartite structure as a human being, but it also is created in accord with the organic proportions of its owner.
The layout, size, and proportions of all buildings within the house compound are dictated by a complex series of rules called asta kosala kosali. The home, a living thing, must be harmonious with the body of the family patriarch. It is only natural, therefore, that the system of measurements by which the bale is constructed should be based upon the microcosmos, the body, itself. The same is true for all other traditional Balinese structures, not just bales in the house compound.
Before the traditional Balinese architect, the undagi, does anything else,he takes various measurements from the body of the head of the household. The most important measurements are those governing the construction of the pillars, for it is their dimensions that will control the size of the buildings. The principal measurements are the length of the index finger, the width of the little finger, the width of the three middle fingers, and the width of the second joint of the index finger. From these measurements, a set of three notched bamboo sticks, called gagulak, are made, and these are used as measuring sticks for the pillars of the bale and associated structures. The basic measurements for the layout of the house compound are taken from the length and width of the owner's foot. The outside wall dimensions are determined by the span of his outstretched arms and the distance from elbow to outstretched thumb. The architect himself may bring the building to life when it is completed, or he may require the services of a priest if he docs not know the proper prayers and procedures. The living trees that have been chopped down to make the pillars, the long grass that has been cut for the roof thatch, and other materials of construction, once assembled according to dimensions taken from a human body, are themselves brought to life, reincarnated, as a living house.
ORGANIZATION BY THREES MAY SEEM QUITE STRANGE to the Western visitor. Certainly, Christianity has its trinity and groupings by three are not unknown in the West. But our thought is much more dualistic, we arc much more accustomed to paired opposites. In our thought, social relations, and politics, we seek resolution between two Manichean sides - us and them, pro and con, good and bad. When we balance our arguments, what we really do is subtract the “cons'n from the “pros” and go with the remainder. This is fundamentally different from the Hindu-Balinese. They do not seek resolution as such, their worldview is not based on conflict + resolution =”progress.” They seek to better organize and balance their lives around fixed ideas, already centuries old.
Source : Bali:Sekala & Niskala
By Fred B.Eisemen,Jr
