The world’s largest island nation, Indonesia is, as its name suggests, the world’s largest Muslim nation, consisting of more than 15,000 islands connected to India, although Hinduism (Bali Hinduism) is still practiced by many people on the westernmost island of Bali.

Located 8 degrees south of the equator, this tropical island has a clear division between wet and dry seasons. The Wallace Line separates it from its neighbor to the east, Lombok, and separates Asia from Australia. Bali is the furthest tip of Asia, with Bali’s highest peak, Mount Agung, rising in the center of the island overlooking the strait, and a series of 3,000-meter-high volcanoes to the west. These volcanoes, which have erupted repeatedly, have made Bali a fertile land and a source of life that stores rainwater.

Like Japan, Bali is a rice society with a history of over 2,000 years of rice cultivation, with double and triple cropping. This prevalence of rice cultivation has led to the development of a variety of festive rituals to pray for its abundant harvest. The rivers that flow from the volcanic mountains branch endlessly downstream, carving green rice terraces along the contour lines, and precise waterways, called “Subak,” run like blood vessels through a communal water management organization. The essence of Bali is nothing other than the science of this sacred flow of water, its circulation and movement.

I am visiting Bali for the first time in three years amidst the Corona disaster. I thought many people still eat by hand, but I could hardly see anyone eating by hand in the local warungs and pasar around Ubud. There may be a reason that young people have started to use forks and spoons, but I am sure that the influence of corona is also stronger than I imagined.

In the past, ordinary home meals and temple communal meals were almost always eaten with hands. The gestures and movements were so graceful that it was almost like watching a dance. Wash your hands well before eating. No soap is used, as the aroma and chemical ingredients can be transferred to the food. They prefer to sit directly on the floor or ground, squat or get down on one knee, and put their food down as well. Contact with the earth may bring them a sense of security. People sitting on chairs or eating at tables look uncomfortable.

The eating hand is the right hand. In Hinduism, the left hand is considered unclean and is not used. Take for example nasi chanpur, a favorite of many people. Steamed white rice is placed in the center of a banana leaf, surrounded by vegetables, meat, and sambal (spices). The rice is picked up and placed in one’s hand, and the vegetables, meat, and sambal are piled on top of the rice, mixed together, and then thrown into the mouth as a small rice ball using the thumbs. There are many types of sambal, and they are mixed together in various ways. Sambal matah is a fresh pickle-like spice especially favored by the Balinese, which is eaten with rice. It is made by chopping, grinding, and mixing red pepper, red onion, garlic, fragrant roots and leaves, nuts, fermented shrimp paste, lemongrass, and lime.

It is forbidden to put one’s hand in one’s mouth or lick one’s fingers. Nasi champur is sometimes served with turmeric soup with winter melon. You may use your left hand to drink this soup, but you must not touch anything that goes into your mouth with your left hand. It is also forbidden to eat by grasping the food with the left hand. Such a way of eating is considered unbecoming and ugly. The use of a plate is also frowned upon and is considered unclean and offensive. When a plate is used, a banana leaf is placed on top of it. When you are finished eating, just throw it away without washing it with detergent. The use of spoons and forks is also considered an unsightly and degrading practice. Eating with one’s hands seems to be an act of dignity for the Balinese. It shows a desire to taste the food with all one’s being using one’s hands. They also want to taste food in an elegant and refined way that confirms the life force within them. There is a desire for a beautiful art that abhors wildness and wildness.

In the documentary film “Bali” (1936) made by the Mexican painter Miguel Covarrubias (1904-1957), who spent a long time in Bali in the 1930s, there is a legendary dancer named Mario. He is known as the founder of the Kubyal, a seated dance that combines the heroism of the Balinese dance (warrior dance) with the delicacy of the Legong dance (fairy dance). The dancers never get up from the ground, but dance cross-legged and squat as if they were eating. They wear long hanging brocade cloths, wrap their bodies tightly with gold belts, and move only their upper bodies, emphasizing the movements of their eyes, arms, and hands. They change their facial expressions in a variety of ways, swaying their bodies from right to left, crawling on their elbows just above the ground, spinning their fans, and adjusting their hair ornaments with trembling fingers. His movements are like the gestures of eating delicious food with pleasure. Based on the epic poem “Kekawin,” chanted in an ancient language by an experienced storyteller, Mario has separated the story into a distinctive Balinese rhythm and abstract gestures, and transferred them to a glittering movement.

In Bali, the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit still permeates daily life as a sacred language. The Balinese calendar, which can be found in every home, details temple holidays and religious events in Sanskrit. A Balinese priest is a person who learns Sanskrit and preserves its system of knowledge. The priests chant Sanskrit omnipotent incantations called mantras. Originally unlettered, and until modern times primarily recited rather than written, Sanskrit has ten phonetic syllables with special magical powers, each sound corresponding to a deity, a color, a direction, and so on.

Unifying these elements is the supreme word “Aum”. (Pronounced “Om” in Bali.) The three sounds “O,” “U,” and “M” represent the trinity of the gods Brahma, Vishnu, and Islawa, representing “heaven,” “earth,” and “underground” and referring to “fire,” “water,” and “wind. The pattern called “ongkara,” which is a figurative representation of the three sounds of “aum,” consists of three elements: male genitalia, female genitalia, and bisexuality, and has a head, forehead, and eyes, with a body, belly, and legs below, said to be a likeness of a human’s shape. The onkara pattern, which looks like swirling water currents or ripples, is essential for making Balinese holy water. Holy water is essential to all Balinese rituals, and the belief in it is called agama tirtha (the teaching of holy water), and the most important role of the priest is to make holy water.

Holy water has different potencies depending on the spells cast, but the highest holy water, which can purify any impurity, can only be obtained if the priest is possessed by God. To produce this supreme holy water, the priest must enter a trance, which requires special movements of the hands and fingers that emphasize the language along with the incantation. By going into a trance and reaching the extreme of mental concentration, the priest can become one with God. God takes over the priest and through the movements of his body and the vibrations of his hands and fingers transforms the water into something sacred.

This ritual of holy water by a superior priest can be a wonderful performance. The movements of the priest’s hands and body, in a state of euphoria, are accompanied by beauty and intensity, and spread out in an expansive flow like a stream of water. Some believe that the movements of the priest may have been the prototype for Bali’s diverse dance forms. The movements of the hands and fingers undulate and cross each other, and the gestures emerge from the space like a three-dimensional pattern. The dancers who enter the trance can be seen unconsciously tracing various shapes with their hands and bodies. Balinese people use leaves to draw holy letters on water, hold flowers above their heads as if they were dancing in the sky, close their eyes slowly, and offer prayers. This gesture seems to be similar to the posture when eating with God.

On the morning of a festival day in a village in Ganial, I once saw a large long mat laid out on the ground in front of the temple with white rice sprinkled on it, and a large number of children in formal dress sitting down to eat rice divided on banana leaves in unison with their supple hands. The ritual of many people eating together with the gods remains throughout Bali. Through these rituals, God and people become closer, with God promising to protect people and people pledging to honor God. Such rituals of people’s working together with one mind also serve to strengthen the bonds of community.

Eating by hand awakens the life force and memories stored deep within us. The natural fact that eating is living emerges with a divine radiance. We want to feel life with our hands and whole body without any intervention. Every time we eat, we directly feel the blessings of God and master the rhythm of life. Such awakening and grace are hidden in hand-to-mouth eating.