Trance in Bali 9780231898690

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TRANCE in BALI

TRANCE

COPYRIGHT ©

1960 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS, NEW YORK

PUBLISHED IN GREAT BRITAIN, INDIA, AND PAKISTAN BY THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON, BOMBAY, AND KARACHI LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER:

60-6545

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Preface It was because of Jane Belo's preliminary work on Imlinese art, trance, and ritual that we thought of going to Bali. From her first four years in Bali, she brought back such complete and fascinating segments of Balinese culture that it seemed the ideal culture within which to plan a project on the cultural aspects of schizophrenia. During our two years in Bali, 1936 to 1938, and the short return trip in 1939, our knowledge and appreciation of the culture was continuously informed by Jane Belo's already existing appreciation and knowledge. She participated actively and eagerly in our experiments with new methods of recording, even though the rigor of time observations, matter-of-fact cataloguing, and firmly schooled translations seemed at first to be a way of dissecting and denaturing the beauty of the whole. But she was as convinced a scientist as she had been an artist, and set herself to master the techniques of ethnological field work, to become one of the most gifted observers and interviewers whom it has been my good fortune to know. Initially, we worked along parallel lines, she in the village of Sajan, Gregory Bateson and I in the village of Bajoeng Ged6, and our two secretaries, Madέ Kaler and Goesti Mad£ Soemeng worked in parallel as we developed the complex methods of recording necessary to cope with such a complicated culture. It soon became apparent that an appropriate division of labor would be for Jane Belo to take over the study of trance, as a widespread multifaceted phenomenon. Katharane Mershon, who had lived and observed and participated in the life

of the village of Sanoer, District of Intaran, out of her previous experience as a dancer, was also drawn into the project. Ketoet Moerda, the youngest of the three Balinese secretaries, learned to touch type and record in Balinese, parallel to the observations which Katharane Mershon was making. Occasionally we all met, to record some particularly complicated trance drama, and messengers went back and forth across Bali, carrying our notes to one another. So the observations of each became part of the observational stance of each of the others. T o this book which depends principally on her own field work, Jane Belo has added analyses of trances in our villages, analyses of the sanghyang dances of Bajoeng Ged£ where we were able to record some twenty-five occasions with the same little dancers, trances in Sanoer against Katharane Mershon's background of knowledge, trances in faraway Selat where Walter Spies had a house. The book has been long in the making, although the major part was finished in 1938 and rechecked on Jane Belo's return visit to Bali in 1939. While it was being completed, she has published two short monographs, "Bali: Rangda and Barong" and "Bali: Temple Festival." As it stands, Trance in Bali is a unique study of an institution that is rapidly changing in the face of the new world demands of Balinese who are now Indonesians. There is no comparable study of a complex set of trances in existence. Jane Belo has been able to set her detailed, painstaking studies— supported by observations, stills and films— within the context of Balinese culture as studied

Preface

bv a group of research workers. The individual trancer, the structure of the particular village, the situation within which the particular trance occurred, are all accounted for. Observations on the spot have been supplemented by repeated study of the film records, and in some cases by bringing members of the village to view the film and comment on the trance behavior. In the years during which the book has been brought to completion, Jane Belo has also had an opportunity to observe and record trances in the

American Southeast and in Haiti, and to show her films to specialists in hypnosis and other types of human behavior. It gives me more delight than I can hope to express to be able to introduce this book of intricately woven, faithfully observed, and beautifully presented material. MARGARET MEAD

The American April, 1959

Museum

of Natural

History

Acknowledgments This study is based on the author's period of residence in Bali, Indonesia, from 1931 to 1935 and from 1937 to 1939, and on intensive field work undertaken under the tutelage of Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson in the years 1937 to 1939. I had the assistance of Katharane Mershon who resided in Bali from 1931 to 1940 and took part in the field work set up by Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson as a team. Katharane Mershon has written part of the text, and I am duly grateful to be able to include her contributions to this book. With us as part of the team worked three Balinese secretaries, Mad£ Kal£r ( M K ) , Goesti Made Soemeng ( G M ) and Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda ( K P ) . Throughout the book quotations from the notes of the various participants in the research are annotated with their initials, M M for Margaret Mead, GB for Gregory Bateson, KM for Katharane Mershon. It would be difficult for me adequately to state my indebtedness to Margaret Mead and to Gregory Bateson for the training which I received from them in the field, and for the encouragement and inspiration which they gave me not only during my association with their field trip but in the subsequent years. Bringing new methods and new insights, they revivified for me the problems which a long acquaintance with the culture had failed satisfactorily to treat. The stringent method of note-taking against a time scale and the use of Balinese secretaries who would simultaneously take down verbatim records of the talk and records of the names and relationships of the participants gave us better data with which to work. From Gregory Bateson

I learned also the method of recording behavior in a sequence on Leica and cine film. For the system which the research followed all credit goes to Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson. Their help was invaluable to me. To Katharane Mershon I am indebted for her friendship and cooperation over many years. She gave willingly of herself and established many contacts for us through her close relation with the people living in her area. I want to thank Colin McPhee whose work on the music of Bali constituted a stimulating parallel to our work on the trance and whose interest in the research was encouraging and helpful. I want to thank the three Balinese secretaries, Mad£ Kal^r, Goesti Mad6 Soemeng, and the late Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda for their tireless devotion to the tasks we set them, and for the spontaneous interest they showed. I am indebted also to the priest, Pemangkoe Desa of Sajan, who served as chief informant on points of ritual. For the cooperation of all our Balinese friends I am also very grateful. To the late Walter Spies I am indebted for his great enthusiam in spotting trance performances over the whole island and especially for his vivid reporting of the trances of Selat which we were not able to witness. I am greatly indebted to Dr. P. M. van WulfFten Palthe who made a special trip to Bali to give his psychiatric opinion on our subjects and who tested them before, during, and after trance. He wrote up his observations and published them in a valuable paper. The opinion

viii

Acknowledgments

of a psychiatrist interested in the area and with special knowledge of Indonesia was of great benefit to us. T o many others who have also contributed their special knowledge, I acknowledge my debt: to the late Professor Ruth Benedict who went over the original material and gave of her insight on the nature of culture; to Dr. Milton H. Erickson, specialist in hypnosis, for going over the manuscript and for viewing the films, giving me the benefit of his incisive knowledge of trance in another culture as a cross reference to our data; to Dr. A. H. Maslow for reading the manuscript and for discussions of the meaning of trance; to Dr. Rhoda Metraux and to Professor Horace L. Friess for reading and suggestions; to Dr. Carney Landis and to Dr. Marjorie Bolles for training in the giving of sorting tests such as were being used at the N e w York Psy-

chiatric Institute, and to Dr. Kurt Goldstein for going over the results of the tests. For the photographic materials I am indebted chiefly to Gregory Bateson; also to Jack Mershon, to Less Lindner, to Baron and Baroness von Plessen, and to the late Eileen, Duchess of Sutherland. I wish to thank the Department of Anthropology of the American Museum of Natural History for the hospitality within which the book was organized. I wish to thank also Mrs. Kathryn Sevvny, Mrs. Florette Henri, and Miss Nelle Chappie for assistance in preparing the book for publication. And I want to thank my husband, Frank Tannenbaum, for his encouragement and interest throughout the work.

J. B.

Contents

PREFACE,

by Margaret Mead

ν

INTRODUCTION /. INT ARAN THE

1

DISTRICT

14

Sadegs, TRANCE M E D I U M S AND TRANCE DOCTORS Djero Plasa, Koelit Kajangan Μέιτιέη Gentir, Sadeg Poera Iboe Samping Siloeh Kompiang, Sadeg Desa Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar, Sadeg Goenoeng Agoeng Ketoet Roeroeng, Sadeg for the Barong at Delodpeken I Goja, Koelit Dalem

T H E S£ANCE

39

Odalan at a Household Temple in Intaran, September 1, 1937 T H E INITIATION OF A N E W

Sadeg,

VILLAGE O F S I N D O E — T H E BABY

II. GIANJAR

ROENOEH,

Djanger

Sadeg

FOR T H E POERA AGOENG

GOES I N TRANCE

DISTRICT

T E G A L T A M O E , VILLAGE O F DRAMATIC ARTISTS AND TRANCE PRACTITIONERS

Odalan at the Poera Dalem, Tegaltamoe, December 5, 1937 DENDJALAN, VILLAGE O F T H E BARONG AND T H E KRIS DANCE

Rena Weweg \ j o m a n Gangsar Other Denjalan Kris Dancers P A G O E T A N — V I L L A G E S T R I F E PLAYED O U T I N TRANCE

Rawa

14 22 25 28 29 32 37

40 47 52

66 68

81 96

103 108 115 118 124 126

χ

Contents Anak Agoeng Njoman Sarwi (or Meranggi) D6wa Ketoet Kel6nang (or Sengkdet) Neka Marsa (Nang Toeroen) The Male Kris Dancers The Female Kris Dancers Ordered Performance at Pagoetan, December 16, 1937 Odalan at the Poera Babian, Pagoetan, December 21, 1937

III. KINTAMAN1

DISTRICT

180

Sanghyang Deling, L I T T L E G I R L T R A N C E D A N C E R S Sanghyang Performance of June 24, 1936 Sanghyang Performance of July 13, 1936 Ordered Performance, May 26, 1937 Sanghyang Deling Songs IV. SELAT

DISTRICT Sanghyangs Sanghyang Koeloek—Puppy Sanghyang Bodjog—Monkey Sanghyang Tjeleng—Pig Sanghyang Lelipi—Snake Sanghyang Metnedi—Evil Spirit Further Notes on Various Sanghyangs Sanghyang Seripoetoet Comments of the Villagers IN VARIOUS

180 182 186 190 195 201

FOLK TRANCE

V. DIVINING

136 138 139 144 150 155 159 169

DISTRICTS

201 203 204 205 209 210 213 217 219 226

B A L I A N S E R I ADA T R E A T I N G I L L N E S S U S I N G T R A N C E

228

FINGERNAIL DIVINING FOR T H E F T

231

FINDINC Α B A B Y S SOUL

üfewATAN

239

FINDING Α B A B Y S SOUL

KLANDIS

243 249

SUMMARY

CONCLUSION APPENDIX

APPENDIX INDEX

251

A: TEMPLE FESTIVAL WITH TRANCE SEANCE: APRIL Odalan OF THE POERA AGOENG, INTARAN, 17, 1938

257

B: S I N D O E — M Y T H O L O G I C A L HISTORY

268

AND

GLOSSARY

271

Illustrations After page 96

INTARAN 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10-11 12 13-14 15 16 17 18-19 20

DISTRICT Djero Plasa, Koelit Kajangart Djero Plasa Dancing Μέπιέη Gentir, Sadeg of the Poera Iboe Samping Μέιτιέη Gentir Dancing Scene during a Seance Djero Plasa Dancing in the Temple Roekti Tompong Masi Djero Plasa and Μέιτιέη Gentir Dancing Goja Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami Goja Pemangkoe Gede Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar Roenoeh Siloeh Kompiang

VILLAGE 21 22 23-25 26

OF SINDOE, INTARAN DISTRICT A Priest with Ceremonial Offerings Scene during the Children's Djanger The Children's Djanger T h e Baby Dancers Undressed

VILLAGE 27 28 29 30 31

O F TEGALTAMOE, G1ANJAR Goesti Ngoerah Majoen Goesti Adji Mokoh Goesti Biang The Hermaphrodite Priest Goesti Ngoerah Majoen

VILLAGE 32-33

O F DEN DJALAN, GIANJAR Roendah, W h o Plays Barong

DISTRICT

DISTRICT

Illustrations 34 35 36 374042 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 5254 55 56 5759 60 61 62 63 64 65

Njoman Gangsar, Who Plays Rangda Mangkoe Dalem as Prince Poetoe Pand6 as Ujak Kris Dancers Waiting to Go in Trance Rena Acting Balian Weweg, Rena Acting Balian, and Sogsag Kris Dancers with Drawn Krisses Kris Dancers Poised to Attack Rangda Paired Combat in the Kris Dance Self-stabbing (Ngoerek) by the Kris Dancers A Trancer Being Carried from the Scene A Trancer Being Forced under the Mask of the Barong Rata and Sedeng Doing Ngoerek Moedera Doing Ngoerek Sedeng Doing Ngoerek Rata in Trance Sang Kompiang and Sedeng in Trance Dέwa Poetoe Merranggi and Sedeng in Trance Sedeng Being Brought Out of Trance D6wa Ged£ Senggoean Coming Out of Trance A Dancer Being "Smoked" to Come Out of Trance Roendah Being "Smoked" Roendah Receiving Holy Water Njoman Gangsar and Mongkog (Pemangkoe Kajangan) Mad6 Djaboeng with a Child Sang Kompiang and Rai Sloka Dέwa Kompiang Meranggi

LLt 66 676972 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80

OF PAGOETAN, GIANJAR DISTRICT Rawa and the Priest Rawa before the Performance D£wa Ketoet Keldnang before Trance Mangkoe Tegeh before Trance Mangkoe Tegeh after Trance Ni Djantoek before Trance with Anak Agoeng Njoman D6wa Ketoet Ketenang Adjusting Sisia's Sash The Covered Pavilion Where D6wa Ketoet Keldnang Lay Unconscious The Kris Dancers Fall Down before Rangda The Witch Advances The Dancers Rise and Draw Their Krisses The Dancers Rush to Attack Rangda Neka about to "Eat" a Live Chicken Neka before Trance Neka about to Stamp on Rawa's Wound Neka and Renis in Trance Ngales in Trance

81

82 83 84 86

Illustrations 89 90 91 92 93

Rereg in the Spear Dance Players in Trance Kris Dancers Coming Out of Trance The Women's Kris Dance Women Kris Dancers Being Brought Out of Trance

VILLAGE 94 95 96-97 98 99 100

OF BAJOENG GEDE, KINTAMANI DISTRICT The Little Girls Going in Trance The Little Girls Falling Limp As They Go in Trance Sanghyang Deling—Little Girls Dancing in Trance Sanghyang Diling—Dancing in Trance on a Man's Shoulders The Little Girl Dancers Coming Out of Trance "Smoking" the Little Girls to Bring Them Out of Trance

VILLAGE 101 102

OF BEDOELOE, GIANJAR Sanghyang Dedari (Nymphs) Sanghyang Djaran (Horse)

SELAT 103 104 105 106

DISTRICT

DISTRICT Darja Darma Soekani Soekadi

DIVINING BY USE OF TRANCE 107 Diviner Serf Ada, the Medium Kisid, and the Two Boys 108 Sen Ada, Kisid, the Two Boys, and the Priest

xiii

TRANCE m BALI

Introduction The Balinese are a people whose everyday behavior is measured, controlled, graceful, tranquil. Emotion is not easily expressed. Dignity and an adherence to the rules of decorum are customary. At the same time they show a susceptibility and a facility for going into states of trance, states in which there is an altered consciousness, and behavior springing from a deeper level of the personality is manifested. The material upon which this study is based was collected in the 1930s, at a time when we had the benefit of many years' knowledge of the island of Bali and a familiarity with the leading personalities of the areas studied and the ties between them and between the temples they served forming networks of interrelationships at the particular period. A number of years have passed. The Second World War, the invasion of Bali by the Japanese, the Japanese occupation, the period of unrest following their withdrawal, and the reestablishment of order under the Republic of Indonesia constitute a series of events which have intervened before the study was brought to publication. Our information is that, in spite of the changes that have taken place in recent years, the ceremonial life remains strikingly unchanged and the intensity with which the arts are practiced continues unabated. All the varieties of trance behavior are culturally stylized: they bear the imprint of cultural patterning. Many subjects will on ceremonial occasions habitually go into trance, suffer convulsive seizures, remain for a time in a disassociated state with altered motility, partial anesthesia, amnesia. When the manifestations

are abandoned and violent, they are related to the exhibitions of riotous behavior which break out at cremations and in great crowds, when the habitual decorum is cast aside.1 Other individuals who go into trance may seek a more quiescent change, sitting immobile during a ritual sequence until the spirit of the god "comes into" them, when they behave as an altered personality, demanding and imperious. Ruth Benedict, who made the classical distinction between Apollonian and Dionysian configurations of culture, 2 went over our material with great care and came to the conclusion that the distinction could not be applied to Balinese culture. Their customary poise and moderation resembles the Apollonian, while the outbreak into trance, approved and recognized in the culture, is nearer to the Dionysian. According to their religious beliefs, the gods cUwa who lived "on high" (ring Icewoer) would come down when they were invoked at festival time to inhabit their shrines in the temples. There they might enter into small godly representations C tapakan ) which were provided for them or into some precious object, as a stone Cartja), or they might simply be considered to be present in the shrine, where offerings were made to them. When the gods came down, they were accompanied by demons ( k a l a , boeta) who were their followers, and to whom offerings were also made outside the gates of the temple. Often 1 J a n e Bclo, " T h e Balinese T e m p e r , " Character and Personality, IV ( 1 9 3 5 ) , p p . 1 2 0 - 4 6 . 2 Ruth Benedict, Patterns of Culture (Boston, 1 9 3 4 ) , pp. 7 8 - 7 9 .

2

Introduction

there were sacred masks associated with the temple, and these too might be considered to be animated by the godly presence and to serve as representatives of the gods. If human beings went into states of trance, they were believed to be entered by a god, by a heavenly nymph Cvndiadart), or by a demon. Thus the pattern was the same whether material objects or persons became the receptacles for the deity's presence. Certain individuals who went in trance would have a taksoe or "control spirit" which spoke through them and was able to put the petitioner in touch with the souls of his dead ancestors. Often in the temples there was a shrine to Taksoe, the spokesman of the gods. The line between gods and ancestors was not clearly drawn—in many villages the temple of origin

TYPES

(Poera Poeseh) had as its chief shrine one sacred to the memory of the founder of the village and his wife. In my experience the Hindu trinity, Siva, Brahma, and Vishnu, celebrated in the prayers, were never thought to enter the entranced, nor did Surya the Sun whose throne stood in the northeast corner of so many temples. Especially important in connection with the trance manifestations were the gods of the sacred mask of Rangda, the Witch, derived from the Hindu goddess Durga, and the sacred mask of the Barong, the Dragon, her antagonist, a character perhaps introduced with early Buddhist influences.3 ' See Jane Belo, "Bali: Rangda and Barong," Monographs of the American Ethnological Society, XVI (1949), pp. 18-39.

OF T R A N C E

1. Trance Doctors. The institutionalized role of native doctors and diviners who practiced by going into trance was very widespread. They were called balian ketakson, from taksoe, control spirit, spokesman, to distinguish them from the lettered doctors called balian wisada or oesada, who practiced by consulting the palm-leaf books. The history of the balian ketakson in Balinese culture most closely resembles that of a shaman as described for other cultures. A man, or woman, would often begin by having symptoms of hysteria, transitory periods of unconsciousness, states of falling limp, followed by uncontrolled movements or convulsions, rigidity, crying, sometimes talking obscure language. (Other syndromes, it seems, might also serve as the prelude.) A balian ketakson would be consulted. In the trance utterance the god might state that the patient was entered by a spirit and should likewise begin the practice of trance doctoring. Thus the practice was transmitted from trance doctor to trance doctor. Many patients with these symptoms would be treated but would not receive this diagnosis. In these states the entranced was believed to

IN

BALI

be able to establish contact with and to speak as the souls of the petitioner's dead forbears. There was often a very regressive quality to the utterances, the soul speaking as a baby, calling upon petitioners as parents. When the patient was able to undertake the role of balian his idiosyncratic conflicts would be changed over to conflicts shared by the other members of the culture, and his symptoms to ritualized symptoms, which the other members of the culture would find reassuring.4 2. Mediumistic Ceremonial Practitioners. These trancers also would begin their roles either following trance states of an ecstatic nature or an illness. A group of institutionalized mediums connected with the temples would be consulted, and if the gods' utterance through them was favorable, the subject would be inducted into the group and become a regular trance practitioner. He or she would be considered to be the representative of a specific god, 4 For a discussion of such a process see George Devereux, "Normal and Abnormal; the Key Problem of Psychiatric Anthropology," in Some Uses of Anthropology (Washington, The Anthropological Society of Washington, 1956), pp. 23-48.

3

Introduction w h o would "come down" into him on ceremonial

feet and with savage yells begin to attack their

occasions, just as the gods c a m e down into the

own breasts with the sharp dagger. T h e pattern

little figures or the holy objects which were kept

resembled that of the amok

in

for the area, in that unconscious aggression was

their

shrines,

when

ceremonially

invoked.

psychosis described

T h e s e godly representatives would not be ex-

first turned outward, then towards the self. A f t e r

pected to go in trance on other than the cere-

a period of violent activity, leaping and thrust-

moni;i1 οα.ι-ions, and as a rule after induction

ing the krisses at their bare breasts, they would

tlu'v did not. T h u s the tendency to disassoci-

struggle fiercely w h e n an attempt was m a d e to

ation

disarm them. T h e y might suffer a convulsive

was rewarded with

social approval

and

brought under social control. T h e subject de-

seizure,

veloped a secondary personality which was hon-

they might go absolutely limp and have to be

ored in the cultural religious scheme. A rise in

carried like rag dolls into the temple for

status was effected. T h e r e was ego satisfaction

reviving

accompanying this rise in status, and there was

preceded by a history of illness.

an opportunity to express unconscious

with

and

arc-en-ciel

rituals.

thrashing

limbs; the

Induction in this role was not

wishes,

Bateson and M e a d have likened the plot of

as when a woman would assume a male role or

the trance performance to the sequence of stimu-

a humble peasant would act out the demeanor

lation and frustration such as a child may ex-

and the imperious commanding role of a prince.

perience

in

response

to

the

attitude

of

the

the

mother and which may lead to temper t a n t r u m . 5

T h o s e who animated the sacred mask of

T h e role of the W i t c h is compared to that of the

Rangda, the W i t c h , and of Barong, the Dragon,

mother, that of the Barong with the father's.

3. Impersonators Barong.

of

the

Rangda

and

although chosen first as dancers, might go into

Subjects in this type of trance activity reported

trance in their parts. T h e s e masks, kept in the

an overwhelming

temple and given offerings also as representa-

which it was not customary for Balinese not in

feeling of anger, of

a

sort

tives of the gods, were considered to be spirit-

the trance state to experience or to express. T h e

ually powerful ( s a k t i ) . W h e n the players w e n t

whole performance constituted an exorcism

in trance, they sometimes would go wild, rush

the powers of evil, of witchcraft, and of th·.·

out of the accustomed performance place into

threat of demons. It was reassuring and relieved

the crowd, trampling on offerings and on

the

orchestra, then fall unconscious and have to be revived. T h e y were not always thought to be "entered" by the god of the masked figure they

of

the anxiety not only of the performers but of t h : onlookers as well. 5. Occasional

Trancers.

Certain

individuals

would take part in the temple ceremonials with

were impersonating, but in some instances were

acute involvement. T h e y would be carried awa>

believed to be entered by another spirit. Iden-

during the rituals into the disassociated state of

tification on a behavioral level with the masked

trance. Often

supernaturals were observable, the player in his

neighboring,

trance continuing

to behave in the culturally

stylized m a n n e r of the

figures

even after

the

mask had been removed. 4. Fighting

and

participate,

these were temple priests interrelated

temples

who

thus bringing the god they

Fol-

Trancers.

repre-

sented to the assemblage of the godly presences. S u c h individuals w h o coidd demonstrate

Self-Stabbing

from would

their

ability to go into trance also could demonstrate

lowers of the Dragon, who at a certain point in

the ability to stay out of trance when, in their

the ritual performance were carried away in an

own temples, the responsibility for carrying out

abandoned

the ritual rested upon them. O t h e r individuals,

trance,

would

attack

with

drawn

krisses the figure of the W i t c h . Overcome

by

her magic power, they would fall to the ground, trembling and

twitching.

The

Dragon

would

come to revive them, they would rise to their

5 Gregory Bateson and Margaret Mead, Balinese Character; a Photographic Analysis ( N e w York, New York Academy of Sciences, 1942; Special Publications Π).

Introduction

4

without a priestly (unction, also were known to dance themselves into a state of trance during the ceremonial dancing which took place as a part of the ritual, suddenly careening off in an abandoned manner, often taking a kris to perform the self-stabbing ngoerek pattern. These people had no well-defined institutionalized role. They might be male or female. Often they were older women who in this manner achieved both ego satisfaction and the release of emotion from a deeper level. They often would go round from temple festival to temple festival in the neighboring area in order to increase the frequency of the opportunities for trance expression. These people did not put into words any phrasings of religious devotion or spiritual experience in connection with this devoted attendance and intense involvement. It was sometimes possible to observe in these crises of involvement an analogy to sexual excitement. One could suspect that at a deeper level libidinal as well as ego drives were operating. 6. Child Trance Dancers. Litde girls who became trance dancers also were inducted without a history of illness, but were chosen to perform when the village decided to form a club around a pair of them, traditionally in order to ward off epidemics. They were chosen apparently for their ability to go into the disassociated state and to perform in this state dances which it was said they could not possibly have executed if they were not entered by a god, since they had received no previous training in the dance. They would dance, somnambulistically, with closed eyes, sometimes balanced upon the shoulders of men, bending far backwards and forwards without falling. Some would dance through hot coals without being burned. As gods, they would behave like petted and petulant children.® At the beginning and at the end of their performance they would appear to be in a deeper state of trance, with more uncontrolled movements— rhythmic automatic movements appeared which were culturally patterned—and transitory states of complete limpness. These children played an important role in 'Ibid., p. 29.

the community for the time that they were active as trance dancers. They had to stop when they reached puberty. They showed no signs of the neurotic or psychotic, either before or after their induction as trance dancers. They were able to dance in trance every night for a month if the village required it. It is easy to see how the child dancers embodied for the attendant audience the idea of the pure and godlike. The individual motivation of the children for first going into trance remains unclear. When their role was established, they would be dressed for the occasion in gilded cloth and elaborate headdresses. They would become the center of admiring attention. There was obvious ego satisfaction connected with the role, and there may have been further satisfactions in the license to accept or reject the proffered stimuli of the songs the onlookers sang to them, the offers by grown men who stooped down so that the children could dance on their shoulders, and so on. Films of the litde girls in trance were shown to Dr. Milton H. Erickson, who has made a lifelong study of hypnotic trance, and to a normal subject of his whom he put in trance to view them. The behavioral phenomena of the trance state, in spite of the cultural patterning, were recognizable both to Dr. Erickson as hypnotist and to his entranced subject. The subject pointed out the moments when the Balinese children "went to sleep," "went in deeper," and "waked up," judging from the facial expressions and from the movements. Dr. Erickson pointed out what he called "unitary movement" as a characteristic of the trance state, that is, the moving of the whole arm as a unit in the way that a baby does, and "economy of movement," that is, the use of only the part of the body necessary to the action. He also directed our attention to movements of reorientation, such as feeling the ground, when the subjects were coming out of trance. There was no doubt, either for Dr. Erickson or for his trained subject, that the states were genuine. 7. Folk Trancers. There existed in the mountain area of East Bali a form of trance in which the player or players would become for a time

Introduction an animal or an inanimate object—a monkey, a pig, a snake, or a potlid. T h e s e were true folk trances in which the audience would take a lively part by singing to the players folk songs embodying suggestions which they might, in their state resembling an hypnotic trance, either accept or reject. A characteristic of these trances

TRANCE

5

was that at times the whole arm of a subject might be affected differently from the rest of the body, either remaining disassociated and beyond voluntary control after the player had come out of trance, or, in certain varieties, only the arm might be affected by the inducing ritual.

EXPERIENCE

W e invited the well-known psychiatrist, Dr. P . M . van W u l f f t e n Palthe, head of the Psychiatric Service in Java at the time, to come to Bali to give his opinion on our trance subjects. H e subsequendy wrote a paper, "Over de Bezetenheid" ( O n Possession), 7 in which he distinguishes two forms of possession: that in which an alien "something" has entered the personality, causing the patient to feel that a power is present that is different from his " I , " and making two simultaneous integrations; and that in which there is a temporary but total change of the personality, in which the person is "transformed" into the other being or object. T h e first type of "possession" he identifies with typical schizophrenic symptoms, the splitting of the personality; the second, with symptoms of hysteria, to which, he says, normal individuals are prone in situations of stress. H e compares all the varieties of trance which he saw in Bali—that of the temple mediums into whom the gods entered, that of the small girls who were entered by the gods, and the folk trancers of East Bali—to his second type of possession. H e speaks of the reduction of consciousness, the attack, and "the dramatic realization of a living conception" as phenomena of an hysterical character, without suggesting that the "players" must be regarded as hysterics. H e points especially to the hysterical mechanism we observed in the folk-trance sanghyang seri-

poetoet:

Here two men are seated opposite each other, each holding a stick in his hand. These two sticks

are connected by a string on which are fixed two puppets that can move along the string. T h e people who sit around the men chant a song, the men make rhythmical movements, first with the whole body, finally only with the right arm which holds the stick. After all sorts of other ceremonies they fall into a deep trance, in which their pupils are wide and hardly react. T h e puppets perform a whole play with a strongly erotic tint. W h e n the play is brought to an end by people who grasp the men and restrict the movements of the right arm, it is not long before the men come out of trance, but their right arm, that was part of the "play" undergoes a stretch-spasm with closed fist. T h e arm may be said to have become disconnected from the body, completely separated from the body-scheme; the man cannot direct it in any way, looks at it as upon a strange object that does not belong to him and that he does not feel. The arm has remained "in trance" and must now be brought out of it with the known ceremony. Putting it over smoke, stroking and spraying it, gradually affects the arm so that it begins to belong to the body again and can be reached by impulses of the will. In this case there is a striking analogy with the hysterical spasm and insensibility of a functional unit which is cut off from control of the will without anatomical lesion. T h e fact that this persists for some time, even after consciousness has been completely reestablished, distinguishes this case from what we sometimes see in hypnotic suggestion; it could best be compared, perhaps, with posthypnotic executions of orders given during hypnosis, yet it is not quite identical with that situation. 8

D r . van Wulfften Palthe pointed out and ilP. M. van Wulfften Palthe, "Over de Bezeten- lustrated with our photographs such behavioral heid," Geneeskundig Tijdschrift voor Nederlandschlndie, Afl. 36, Deel 80 (1940), pp. 2123-53. 'Ibid., p. 2145. 7

6

Introduction

symptoms as the totstellreflex, complete immobility and relaxation during trance; bewegingstorm, storm of movements, general aimless muscle tensions and extensions; symbolic handling of the kris, in the attack upon the self, with arc-en-ciel—the muscles, the agonists and antagonists, in equal tension; general collapse (limpness) at the beginning and at the end of trance; and violent motor agitation during the trance. He speaks of all these manifestations as those of normal people in the culture, not of pathological cases. He believes that not everyone in the culture could go into trance. Only individual persons, who differ from their fellow villagers by a high emotionality, a lively imagination and in general through a somewhat infantile psychic structure, are capable of reaching that stage of reduced consciousness that is needed to achieve a transformation, the realization of a conception.®

Bateson and Mead in their analysis of Balinese culture have made the point that what they call "awayness," a lapsing from a state of awareness and concentration into a state "vacant faced and bare of all feeling," was characteristic of the culture as a whole. They consider that trance is the same sort of experience, also congruent with Balinese character as a whole. 10 Speaking of "awayness," they say, "Trance is such an experience, an interval of extremely narrow concentration." They describe the trances of the balian or seer of the village they studied most exhaustively as beginning with such "awayness," then passing into a period when "the seer exhibits emotions never otherwise expressed except on the stage—tears and intense expressions of grief and striving. All these are lived through, until again vacancy and awayness supersede." 1 1 T h e analysis of Balinese Character leaves open the question of whether the manifestations of trance are to be considered more hysteric or more schizoid. Working as a team, we tried to collect observations and photographic records of •Ibid., p. Gregory Character; a 11 Ibid., p.

2147. Bateson and Margaret Mead, Photographic Analysis, p. 4. 5.

Balinese

as many different types of trance in different areas as possible. The data are presented in the body of this book. In Balinese Character is to be found the statement: "It is a culture in which the ordinary adjustment of the individual approximates in form the sort of maladjustment which, in our own cultural setting, we call schizoid." 1 2 Speaking of the function of the trance in village and temple ceremonial, there is the further statement: "These trance states are an essential part of Balinese social organization, for without them life would go on forever in a fixed and rigid form, foreordained but unguessed in advance." 1 3 They make change possible. Trance states in Bali were thus both accepted and socially significant. There remains the question whether they are to be considered normal or abnormal in an absolute sense. In 1934 Ruth Benedict published a now famous paper, "Anthropology and the Abnormal," 1 4 in which she shows how certain personality trends considered abnormal in our culture may be highly valued in another culture and therefore are considered no longer abnormal, the behavior of the individuals showing these trends built into the institutions of the culture, and the individuals themselves socialized in the process. She says: It does not matter what kind of "abnormality" we choose for illustration, those which indicate extreme instability, or those which are more in the nature of character traits like sadism or delusions of grandeur or of persecution, there are well described cultures in which these individuals function at ease and with honor, and apparently without danger or difficulty to the society. The most notorious of these is trance and catalepsy. Even a very mild mystic is aberrant in our culture. But most peoples have regarded extreme psychic manifestations not only as normal and desirable, but even as characteristic of highly valued and gifted individuals.15 T h e question is often brought up, whether " Ibid., p. xvi. "Ibid., p. 5. 14 Ruth Benedict, "Anthropology and the Abnormal," Journal of General Psychology, X (1934), 59-80. "Ibid., p. 60.

Introduction the symptoms and manifestations of a given culture, strongly patterned in the cultural context and interpreted in concordance with the prevailing beliefs, are considered, within that culture, evidence of a special gift or of the intrusion of foreign forces which must be expelled, that is, as a plus in communication or as a minus in cultural normality. In a paper by Grace Harris on the "Possession 'Hysteria' in a Kenya Tribe" concerning the Wataita in Kenya,16 the author describes the attacks of saka which the women suffer—attacks including convulsive movements, shaking, trembling, speaking strange sounds, rigidity, loss of consciousness. The sufferers also experience desires and urges for things usually foreign to women in the culture, or fear of such things. The author relates these seizures to the role of women in the culture: women cannot own property or herds; they cannot, as the men do, maintain a shrine to preserve rapport with the supernatural agencies. Thus their attacks could be considered compensatory. The urgency of the desires of the saka sufferers, and the way in which such desires are acceded to, are compared to pregnancy desires in our culture. Mrs. Harris is impressed by the way in which saka attacks are carried out in the Taita idiom, and she is bothered by the question of whether the behavior is to be considered neurotic or normal. "If they are neurotic," she says, "it is in the Taita fashion." 17 Some affected women, she says, may even be severely neurotic, and in such cases susceptibility to saka may be very closely bound up with their neuroses. She doubts whether this is true of all or even of most cases. The saka complex serves to relieve the tensions; the granting of the desires expressed and the dances arranged for the benefit of the sufferers, in which they are dressed in special finery and are the center of attention, may well have therapeutic value.

7

sider, may appear pathological, but which the culture has developed its own forms of handling. The author of the paper regrets that she has no psychiatric or psychological training and suggests that experts in these fields would better be able to judge the phenomena. Yet there are many instances in which persons trained specifically in these disciplines misjudge the effects they observe, relating the culturally stylized patterns of aberrant behavior with too great ease to the symptomatology with which they are familiar through their patients. They tend to give to these patterns too great a weight of pathology. The whole complex of Haitian voodoo, for example, has been studied by many investigators, journalistic reporters, medically trained people, and anthropologists. The reports of the journalists are sensational, but those of the medically trained hardly less so. The physician J. C. Dorsainvil describes the state of possession as "an altered physiology, in which all the capacities of the senses are increased, and the general motricity increased; at the same time stimuli which would in the normal state cause unspeakable suffering 'slip over the organism' without affecting it." 18 The body may be bent backward in an arc in a manner not possible as a voluntary action. He points to alterations of the facial expression, of the voice, of the whole personality. He defines voodoo as "a religious psycho-neurosis, which is racial, characterized by a doubling of the self (wtoi), with functional alterations of sensibility, of motility, and predominance of oracular (•pythiatique) symptoms." 1 9

The study represents an honest attempt to assess the significance, within a culture, of symptoms and aberrant behavior which, to the out-

Herskovits, looking upon the same phenomena as an anthropologist, rejects Dorsainvil's hypothesis, saying: "In terms of the patterns of Haitian religion, possession is not abnormal but normal, it is set in a cultural mold as are all other phases of conventional living." 2 0 He points out that not everyone is subject to states of possession. He proposes that differences in nervous instability are involved, which may be thought

" Grace Harris, "Possession 'Hysteria' in a Kenya Tribe," American Anthropologist, LIX, No. 6 (December, 1957), pp. 1046-66. " J b i d . , p. 1065.

" J. C. Dorsainvil, Vodou et Nivrose (Port-auPrince, Haiti, 1931), p. 15. "Ibid., p. 111. "Melville J. Herskovits, Life in a Haitian Valley (New York, 1937), p. 147.

8

Introduction

of as predisposing different persons to experience the "religious thrill" in different degrees, or, in other terms, by reference to their differing susceptibility to suggestion. That it gives release from psychic tension and that it offers a way to the satisfaction of unfulfilled desires merely emphasize the compensatory character of the phenomenon. He writes: "One must reject an hypothesis which attempts to explain the vodun cult of Haiti in terms of the neuroses, even when, as in the admirable exposition of Dr. Dorsainvil, the approach neglects neither accepted genetic theory in stressing the inheritance of neurotic tendencies in voduist family lines, nor the important historical forces which have been operative." 2 1

type, and involve the same segment of the personality, the ethnic unconscious. 28 T h e shaman is able to treat patients with idiosyncratic conflicts by providing a changeover to culturally conventional conflicts and ritualized symptoms. In many primitive groups the shaman is someone who was ill and had been successfully "treated" by a shaman. 27 Devereux believes these to be not cures but cases of remission without insight. He continues to regard the shaman as a severe neurotic or even as a psychotic. 28 He refers to Kroeber 29 and to Linton's 30 view that the shaman is only less crazy than the recognized psychotic, and challenges Ackerknecht's 31 view that the shaman, because adjusted to a certain extent, is "autonormal."

In a culture such as that of Bali, in which trance manifestations are common but not universal phenomena, the question as to whether such behavior is to be considered normal or abnormal becomes crucial. George Devereux, in a special study of the normal and abnormal in primitive culture, 22 refers to shamanism among the Plains Indians, in Siberia, and elsewhere. He makes the following analysis: T h e shaman's conflicts are located in the unconscious segment of his ethnic personality, rather than in the idiosyncratic portion of his unconscious. 23 The ethnic unconscious is "that portion of the total unconscious segment of the individual psyche which most members of his given cultural community have in common." 2 4 It is transmitted by a kind of "teaching," as culture is transmitted. T h e shaman's conflicts and symptoms have a conventional patterning. 26 His symptoms become ritual acts, which the normal members of the tribe find reassuring. Quite often, though not always, his conflicts are simply more intense than are those of other members of his group but are fundamentally of the same

In Bali it was not usual to use the word "shamanism." But we do find parallels in the fact that people who were trance practitioners often had a history of illness and were treated either by a native doctor ([balian), who went in trance and announced that the patient was likewise entered by a god, or by a whole group of trance mediums in a ceremonial 5 έ 3 ^ ε , who in their trance testified that the patient was entered by a god and should become one of them.

" Ibid. Dr. Alfred Mitraux in Voodoo in Haiti (New York, 1959), just published as we go to press, states: "The symptoms of the opening phase or trance are clearly psychopathological" (p. 120). ° George Devereux, "Normal and Abnormal; the Key Problem of Psychiatric Anthropology," in Some Uses of Anthropology (Washington, D. C., The Anthropological Society of Washington, 1956), pp. 23-48.

T h e patient would thus receive social recognition for his symptoms. His tensions were relieved by the possibility of producing the symptoms at the right time and place and of remaining normal at other times. 32 In Devereux's terms this would involve a shifting of the conflicts from the idiosyncratic unconscious to the unconscious segment of his ethnic personality. He would develop conventional conflicts and ritualized symptoms. This sort of patterning was easy to observe in Balinese who became "spokes* Ibid., p. 30. "Ibid., p. 26. " I b i d . , p. 31. " I b i d . , p. 30. "Ibid., p. 31. "Ibid., p. 18. " A . L. Kroeber, The Nature of Culture (Chicago, 1952). "Ralph Linton, Culture and Mental Disorders (Springfield, El., 1956), pp. 81, 118fF. G. H. Ackerknecht, 'Psychopathology, Primitive Medicine, and Primitive Culture," Buffetin of the History of Medicine, XIV (1943), 30-69. " J a n e Belo, "The Balinese Temper," Character and Personality, IV (1935), 120-46.

9

Introduction men of the gods," or those who habitually went into trances of a violent nature, took krisses, and attempted to stab themselves. They did this only on ceremonial occasions or in connection with dramatic performances in which the great horrific masked figures of the Witch Rangda and the Dragon Barong played a part.33 There is nothing in the evidence to show that their cases became exacerbated with time. Devereux cites examples from Mohave culture in which the healing shamans eventually became witches. He analyzes what happens as follows: "Their initial conflicts are probably related to aggression. Hence, the primary defense consists in a 'reaction formation' against hostile impulses: the budding shaman denies his sadistic impulses and—turning them around—specializes in healing. Then, when this defense becomes 'stale,' there is a new break through of hostility, which impels the healer to become a witch. . . . In the end, guilt over the overt manifestation of his hostility eventually impels the Mohave witch to commit suicide by inducing the bereaved relatives of his victims to kill him." 8 4 In Bali there was universal belief in Idjak, witch-like creatures into which living male and female persons could transform themselves in order to bring illness and misfortune to their victims. It was believed that they brought about their transformation into evil form by the practice of black magic, the reading of the sacred books backward, dancing at the crossroads or in the graveyard, and the giving of offerings to evil deities. W e have a number of instances in which informants stated that they were suspected of being able to become lejaks, but no cases in which they admitted the practice of witchcraft. T h e transformation of the personality in the trance state was not considered a step " J a n e Belo, "Bali: Rangda and Barong," Monographs of the American Ethnological Society, XVI (1949). " George Devereux, "Normal and Abnormal; the Key Problem of Psychiatric Anthropology," in Some Uses of Anthropology (Washington, D. C., The Anthropological Society of Washington, 1956), p. 33.

in the direction of malefaction. There existed in many temples the mask of the Witch Rangda, a female. When the cos nun ed player, always a man, who impersonated her, performed in this mask, it was an attestation of the power of the mask if the player went in trance. But there was no connection made between his trance performance and a personal power of witchcraft. Devereux distinguishes between shamanistic derangements and the ethnic psychoses, amok,

latah,

imu,

wtndigo,

koro,

and so forth.

He says: "Ethnic psychoses differ from shamanistic derangements in that their basic conflicts are not rooted in the ethnic unconscious, but in certain idiosyncratic traumata, which are sufficiently prevalent in a given culture to force that culture to take cognizance of them and to evolve defenses against them." Devereux makes use of Linton's concept of the cultural "pattern of misconduct." These ethnic (neuroses and) psychoses are again distinguished, he says, from "ordinary" or idosyncratic neuroses and psychoses in that the sufferers find in the culture prepatterned symptoms representing one kind of standardized "pattern of misconduct." 85 At the time of our investigations in Bali there were about two hundred mental patients in the hospital for their care, and we knew of three cases who might have been hospitalized but were at liberty. They were spoken of as hoedoeh, crazy. In contrast, we knew personally about 150 individuals who habitually went in trance, none of whom were considered in the least crazy. It is true that in another culture some of them would have been considered to be suffering from hysteria, for many of the patterned symptoms they exhibited would fall under this rubric. T h e scheduled seizures they experienced, integrated with the religious life, given a meaning and the dignity of socially significant behavior, may well have served as therapy. Individuals who were inducted into the trance practices, if they were abnormal to begin with, would find their difficulties alleviated by the institutionalization of their trance roles. In Devereux's terms, the conflicts are rooted in the ethnic unconscious and "Ihid.,

p. 38.

10

Introduction

find prepatterned symptoms as defenses ready in the cultural setting. Although the practice of the trance seizures and impersonations offered in Bali an outlet for the expression of neurotic tendencies, and the very impersonations of witches and demoniac characters served to allay the fears very early engendered in the young child, it is very questionable that a majority of the Balinese trance subjects were abnormal to any appreciable degree. Many of them seemed, outside of their trance behavior, indistinguishable psychologically from their fellows who did not go into trance. T h e little girls who were inducted as trance dancers and who might perform every night for a month appeared to be normal children at all other times. Many of the young men who would "follow the Dragon" and go into trance, attacking the Witch, and then would turn the dagger upon their own chests, enacted this drama, so significant for the ethnic unconscious, as many times a month as might be required by their "club"—and then might discontinue the practice entirely and go on with a normal life. Psychological tests 3 6 given to a group of strong trancers and to a control group of nontrancers revealed no differences between the groups. "These were a battery of three so-called "sorting tests," such as were being used at the time by Dr. Carney Landis and Dr. Marjorie Bolles at the New York Psychiatric Institute for testing schizophrenics. The three tests were: ( 1 ) The Holmgren Wool Test, consisting of small skeins of wool of different colors to

T H E P L A C E OF T R A N C E

be sorted; ( 2 ) The Weigl Test, consisting of three forms and four colors, adapted for Balinese use by substituting the four colors used in Balinese ritual and associated with the four directions—red, black, white, and yellow—for the four primary colors in the original test; ( 3 ) An Object Sorting Test, made up of Balinese objects rather than the knives and forks, pliers, smoking materials, and so forth, which made up the test used by Dr. Bolles. The tests were especially worked out to be nonverbal and were intended to reveal whether or not the subject was able to form abstractions, and, if he did not sort originally on a basis of abstraction, if he were able to accept a sorting on this basis. None of the Balinese subjects spontaneously used abstractions as a basis for sorting. On the other hand, none of them, either the trance subjects or the nontrance subjects, refused to accept the classifications on the basis of an abstraction if the investigator so formed one. The typical Balinese response was as follows: Test 1. Sorting for pattern. A synthesis based on aesthetic considerations, the sensory response selective and meaningful, choosing among the small skeins of wool pleasing color combinations in an elaborate range to suggest an imaginary weaving. Test 2. Again sorting for pattern. Again a synthesis, of color and form, selection of the pieces not on the basis of either category, form or color, but on the basis of both aspects, to make a pleasing design. Often the design was oriented North, South, East, and West, according to the traditional color associations used in the arrangement of ofFerings. Test 3. Sorting for meaningful sets. No attempt was made to sort the objects on the basis of color, form, or material, rather the objects were selected to suggest an imaginary situation. For example, the kris which was given as a stimulus did not provoke a response of aggression, nor of sorting with other knives and krisses, the sheath, and so forth, in the set, but was often placed with the small mat in evocation of the wedding ritual in which the groom takes his kris and pierces the small mat from among the offerings, symbolically enacting the piercing of the hymen.

IN B A L I N E S E R E L I C I O U S

In Bali trance experience was an experience integrated with the religious life, fully explained in terms of the religious beliefs, and seen as a parallel to the descent of the gods at festival time into the little houses and the little figures which were kept as their "sitting places." The entranced would become just one more receptacle in which the spirit of the god could make

PRACTICE

his presence known temporarily. In my study 3 7 of a complete temple festival the whole course of the preparations and the ritual are detailed, and this background makes clear the way in which the trance patterns may be woven into the texture of the religious rituals. T h e temple priest " J a n e Belo, "Bali: Temple Festival," Mtmographs of the American Ethnological Society, XXII (1953).

Introduction served as the spokesman of the temple members in addressing prayers to the gods; the members themselves were expected to do no more than present their offerings and make a reverence with joined hands to the deities. They were not expected to pray. T h u s there was no communication between the villagers and the gods except through the priest's offices unless one or more of their number would go into trance. In this case a more direct communication was set up between the gods and the living. T h e Balinese believed that the abode of the gods was upon the mountain. T h e temples of Bali were holy sites on which stood the houses of the gods. But these houses were uninhabited the greater part of the time. Only at special times and by special invitation would the gods come down to stay for a few days in these, their earthly residences. It was customary for the gods of each temple to come down for their visit on each of the semiyearly anniversaries, once in 210 days. In the household temples, the sanggah or

11

figure woven of palm. Often there would be litde extra faces of wood Qpererai), painted as were the masks, which were attached to the figure representing the god for the time that the god was supposed to be present. T h e figures themselves had no power. They were merely the

receptacles, the "sitting-places"

Q-pelinggihan)

of the higher presence. W h e n someone went in trance in the temple, he also would be spoken of

as the felinggthan of the god.

At the termination of the festival, the gods would be politely asked to depart, and the little figures would be put away in the little houses which belonged to the gods, the tiny doors closed upon them.

W h e n during the course of a festival, or at some private rite, any of the gods' subjects went into trance, the occurrence was interpreted as a religious experience, a setting up of communication with the gods. T h e entranced would speak as the god with whose presence he was imbued. T h e god might give answers then to questions pemaradjan, it was the ancestor gods of the fam- put to him. And, for the time that the holy ily who were invited to come down to earth on presence was manifest, all honor and respect the occasion of the anniversaries. would be accorded the deity in the person of the In many temples the gods were represented by entranced. In this phenomenon can be seen the little figurines of gold or bronze or gilded complete parallel to the descent of the gods into wood, 38 by plain boards on which a face has the little figures of the temple. And when the been carved in primitive style, or by a simple time came for the holy presence to withdraw, just as at the festival, with incense and holy ™ Such a sacred figurine was called an artja. Likewise water the gods would be politely asked to desome other object, nonrepresentative in aspect, a stone part. or a bit of bronze, might be kept in the temple shrine, and to such objects also the name

artja

was given.

THE

PUPPET

When in the temple people went in trance as part of the ceremonial, it was not always easy to decide whether they were acting or genuinely in trance. There was no very fine line drawn between the two states. T h e Balinese showed great talent for dramatization, and this was amply displayed in the trance practices. In Bali, not only would the entranced behave as if he were acting,

COMPLEX

but the actor would behave almost as if he were in trance. T o understand this relationship, one must have an idea of what we shall call the "puppet complex," so important both in Bali and in Java. T h e wayang kulit, a shadow show in which leather puppets were animated against an illuminated screen, was used to enact the ancient

12

Introduction

mythology and was of great ritualistic significance. Many other forms of puppet shows were derived from this. There were round doll-like puppets and puppets carved in low relief. T h e chief dramatic performances given in the palaces of the Sultans of Java were called wayang wong, which might be translated "the human puppet show," and, in the opinion of many authorities, were also derivative from wayang kulit. Anyone who has ever seen one of these performances given by the highly trained actors cannot doubt that their every action was modeled upon that of the puppets, and the stylization of the gesture, the position of the figure in profile to the audience, the absolute immobility of the face, recalled the puppets' representation of the mythological characters, and not any human rendering. Further, the puppet idea reappeared in many forms in the rites and magical practices of the populace. In Java it was customary to construct a doll out of a dipper and a rice-steaming basket which was, by various measures, caused to be imbued with the spirit inhabiting a sacred site. Once animated, this puppet was able to dance and to give signs in answer to questions

enly nymphs" (widiadari) would be invited to descend as guests at the feast, to be embodied in little palm-leaf puppets (gegeloeK) made for the purpose. T h e y would often be made to execute a dance, held in the arms of little girls or women who were said to "nurse" them. It was not only in Java, but in Bali also, that the dancers themselves were trained to resemble puppets. In Bali the puppetlike mimicry was less strictly carried out, but the stylized gesture, the expressionless face of the traditional dance, the complete lack of a personal quality in the per formance of the serious roles were there all the same. T h e effect was enhanced when, as in many theatrical forms, the actors wore masks.

Much of the formal dancing of Bali was done by children. From the age of six or seven onward they would be selected by the village groups, given a rigorous course of training, dressed in elaborate costumes, and ordered to perform in public, but only for the period of their childhood. W h e n they grew "too big," that is, when they reached the advanced age of thirteen or fourteen, they were discarded for these parts, and a new set put into training to replace them. put to it, as a clairvoyant. In Bali, the sang- I believe that the reason for the choice of chilhyang deling performance was a related develop- dren as dancers, and their popularity rested ment. Here two wooden puppets on a string upon the very impersonal quality of their perpassed through a hole in their middles would formance. They were sufficiently malleable to be dance through the power of the spirits imbuing trained in a fixed traditional pattern, and there them. And there were many more. A puppet was was a purity, an absolute quality, in their permade from a sheaf of rice at harvest time, to formance which conformed with the Balinese represent the Rice Goddess and to receive offer- ideal of what dance ought to be. Watching ings in her name QNint, Dewa Nini, Sri). At them, one could almost be persuaded that they innumerable domestic ceremonies, from the time were puppets, not human children. a newborn child was twelve days old onward, T h e puppet complex, then, could be summed a figure made of palm leaf Qsanggah oerip, litup thus: A puppet is that which represents a erally, shrine of life) would appear among the spirit. Plays are originally representations of offerings, in some sense to represent his spirit. nonhuman spirits. By dramatic connotation, acW h e n he died and was buried, it was customary tors and dancers are like puppets, for they bein some districts to perform the final rites of have in accordance with a spirit which is not purifying and dressing such a figure, and then their own. By connotation of the mystery of life to tie it to a tree outside the doorway to his and death, a baby is like a puppet, for it is house. In the cremation ceremonies, among mysteriously imbued with a spirit. Conversely, a many puppetlike figures, one special one (adepuppet is like a baby, for it is small and lovable, g a n ) was conceived as the particular receptacle its ways are unaccountable. Little children make for the liberated soul. At temple festivals, "heavthe best, the most puppetlike dancers.

Introduction When people went in trance, they would behave like children. They would cry, call out to father and mother, express urgent and unpredictable desires, and would not be quieted until

13

these desires were satisfied. Being like gods, they would behave like children. In some way the gods themselves are children.

I

Intaran District THE

SADEGS,

TRANCE

MEDIUMS

W e should like to present this study of trance in terms of the personalities concerned, to give as close a view as we can of the people who practiced trance, of their function in the community, and of what the practice of their trance role meant to them as individuals. W e found that the trance personality in Bali did not conform to one special type, but that many and varied types were drawn into this activity because it was a form of activity very much alive in the culture. In dealing with the chief characters of whom we made a study, it is necessary to present each one against the background of his local community in order to make clear the interrelationships of the individuals—the social position and trance function of each. Different aspects of the trances and the trance situations were stressed in different localities. T o give any idea of the diversity of forms which the manifestations of trance could take in Bali one must have some understanding of the special attitudes and concerns of each of the local groups to which the subjects belonged. There was an underlying congruence of feeling which was essentially Balinese, but certain trends were very much more distinct in some localities than in others. In comparing one group with another we found the emphases diverse. Balinese culture was not a simple homogeneous culture in which, if the background could once be adequately described, the role and the development of given personalities could be analyzed and compared against this background. In Bali there was too much variety —it was a complex society. In order to estimate the significance of trance in Balinese culture as

AND

TRANCE

DOCTORS

a whole one has to pay attention to a great many details of local variation which may seem tiresome, but which have to be taken into account to make clear a point. Only when we will have run through the data we collected in contrasting districts can one hope to add up the points to some sort of ultimate count, to a judgment of the part trance played in Balinese culture and in the lives the Balinese subjects. Each personality has to be seen in his own setting. A generalized description of the social background will not do. Therefore we have to divide our study into sections devoted to different districts. T h e first district we treat is called Intaran. It was a little world of its own, made up of a cluster of villages all interconnected, intensely active in ceremonial and trance procedures. Each subgroup of the village organization would partake to a certain extent in the calendrical festivals and other ritual observances of all the others, with the result that the frequency of these festivities was considerably increased over that of an isolated village. In Intaran there always seemed to be something going on. Such an organization tended also to intensify the interest in religious ceremonial, the various members stimulating each other to fresh efforts and more earnest and acute involvement in the mysteries of the relationship between gods and men. Trance rituals had become an important part of the ceremonial and were institutionalized in a manner that was unknown in many other parts of Bali. T h e tales the people had to tell of their own mystic experiences, the legends which had grown up around certain individuals credited

The with magic power, were among the most fantastic in the Balinese repertoire. T h i s district adjoins the place where Katharane Mershon ( K M ) lived for the nine years of her residence on the island, and was therefore one of those on which we have the most intimate information. H e r work in dispensing medicine, and her reputation as an expert whose renown was equal to that of the Balinese doctors, kept her in close touch with all the activities of the surrounding villages. T h e baltans (native doctors) treated her as one of themselves, as a beloved colleague. W h e n a new trancer came to the fore—and it was through his becoming ill that the gods' will was made k n o w n — K M had been informed of the case from its beginnings. H e r very genuine interest in the people and the devoted care she gave them gained for her a familiarity with the personal side of their lives, with their little ailments and their preoccupations, and gave her a friendly entree into the ceremonial life. Intaran lies beside the sea on the southeast coast of Bali, at a distance of ten kilometers from the town of D e n Pasar, and is adjacent to the village of Sanoer, where the Dutch landed their troops for the historic battle in 1906 which brought Bali under their rule. T h e district was densely populated, the inhabitants numbering some 3,700. T h e y were divided into fifteen bandjars (separate wards), each made u p of about fifty households. T h e wards were set inland from the sea, not near the beach, as the sea shore was considered an unhealthy location. T h e houses were courtyards surrounded by clay walls, each with an entrance gate on the street and each with several small thatched pavilions standing separate from one another. T h e courts of each family were separated from those of their neighbors only by the clay walls and occasional narrow alleys, and one ward adjoined another without any visible boundary, so that the dwellings of the inhabitants formed a compact mass like a walled town. Along the edges of the main thoroughfares were little market stalls where vendors sat to tempt the passerby. In central locations stood the bale bandjars, the open pa-

Sadegs

15

vilions which served as clubhouse for the male members of the ward. Some of the temples, which were also walled courtyards and enclosed the shrines of the gods and a few larger pavilions for the preparation and the setting-out of offerings, were tightly wedged in between the houses of the inhabitants. Other temples were located in the outlying rice fields, coconut groves and gardens, in especially isolated situations. T h e s e were generally the ones with the most fearsome reputation for supernatural manifestations. O n e of the temples was built out in the sea, at a distance of a hundred yards or so from the shore. T h e shrines were of coral rock, and at high tide the temple was completely submerged. In Intaran an extremely strong element of the population were the high-caste members, especially those members of the priestly caste, Brahmana. T h e r e were twenty-one ordained H i g h Priests residing in the district, among them some of the most learned scholars of the religious books, the mythological history, and the classics of literature inherited from India and Java. T h e s e books were inscribed upon palm leaves, from a type of palm called the tal, which are quite stiff and fairly durable. But they did not last forever, passing from the hands of student to student, so that as they would wear out they would have to be copied and recopied by succeeding generations. M a n y errors have crept in and have been recopied time and again, giving rise to considerable confusion and lack of correspondence in the texts. A great part of the labor of the Balinese scholars in studying these texts was in interpreting the confused passages and endeavoring to find at least compatible meanings in contradictory versions of the legendary history. Every High Priest was entitled to his own interpretation and might dictate special observances to the people who were his followers, according to his understanding of the religious prescriptions. T h e H i g h Priests served as teachers to their sons who wished to study for the priesthood, and to members of the other castes of the nobility, Satrya and Wesya, who had an ascetic turn of mind or a taste for the classical poetry. Even members of the low caste might

16

Intaran

enter the households of the High Priests or of some famous doctor, as acolytes, favored servantapprentices who received instruction in return for menial duties that they performed. These in turn, if they acquired learning and a reputation, might as they grew older gather pupils around them. In this way learning was disseminated under the Balinese regime, making for a rigid selection of the students with special ability for study—the average man had no need to learn to read. The Government schools established in this district were attended by most of the children for two or three years, so that they did learn to read. Moreover, opportunity was offered for them to go on, even to advance to taking the degree for a school teacher if they so desired, and if the family could afford to pay the fees and dispense with their labor in the fields during all those years. But in these schools the ancient Balinese lore could not be learned, and therefore the Balinese traditional system of a learned scholar dispensing his knowledge and wisdom to a very few specially chosen pupilapprentices continued side by side with modem education. Intaran can be considered to have been an intellectual center in Bali because of the relatively high number of High Priests and scholars living there with their families and dependents. Even distant ramifications of these families had had closer contact with the Brahmana tradition than that of the average Balinese living in the plains or the mountains. Although among the adults the great majority were simple people to whom it would never have occurred that they might learn to read, still the intellectual level of the community was raised well above the average by the presence and the influence of the priests and scholars. Among other districts, Intaran had a reputation both as a center of wisdom and of witchcraft. Everyone knew that there were books on black magic as well as white, and, where there was learning, one could never be sure that some unscrupulous people with evil ambitions had not got hold of one of these textbooks of infamy, and from them learned the art of casting spells upon their enemies, even of

District transforming themselves by night and flying through the air to wreak havoc upon some unsuspecting victim to whom they might have taken a dislike. No one ever admitted that he or she was a witch, of course, and it was difficult to prove, but everyone could have his suspicions. Everyone believed that there were witches, many had seen them in the form of strange lights dancing over the rice fields, or encountered them in the shape of monkeys or goats or in some other gruesome form. Priests and doctors had to be skilled in the art of turning off their spells and malevolent practices. The people of Intaran gave a great deal of attention to religious ceremonial. Festivals, processions to and from the sacred sites, musical and dramatic performances for the gods were elaborate, frequent, and well attended. They possessed many temples built in the past by the Satrya and Wesya nobles, richly decorated and endowed with little god-figures, regalia, and ritual objects of gold and silver. The people were proud of these temples and looked forward to the occasions when they could dress up in their best and go to share in the glory of the reception given in honor of the gods' visit. Living so close to the big town of Den Pasar, they traded a great deal in the market there, and quite a number of the residents had prospered by selling their pigs and coconuts to Chinese merchants or their wares to European tourists. It was one of the districts which had decidedly been subjected to outside influences. Yet the tendency was to turn back such gains into expenditure in the Balinese tradition, to provide more elaborate offerings for a festival or new costumes and adornment for appearances in the processions, at the temple festivals, or in the local dramatic performances. Culture contact in Bali did not necessarily lead to weakening of the tradition, but more often to accommodation of the new factors to the old ways. Compared with the inhabitants of other districts, especially the more remote mountain regions, the people of Intaran were friendly, gay, and inclined to be talkative. In contact with Westerners they seemed more outgoing, more at

The Sadegs

17

ease. Their manners were decorous and cordial. They did not suffer from the "tongue-tiedness" and the strain which one found in the remote districts where the people were unaccustomed to such contacts. Wider experience with the foreign elements in the town—not only with Europeans and Americans, but with Javanese (servants, clerks, and so forth), with Chinese (shopkeepers), with Indian and Arab traders— had to a certain extent emancipated them from the old-fashioned strict adherence to custom. But they had forsaken only certain of the old ways that they had found uncomfortable—for example, the approved marriage of first cousins, recommended by parents, was falling into disrepute; the laws of marriage within a caste were frequently broken; sexual promiscuity and brittle marriages appeared to be very much more common than in the old-fashioned villages. It was all the more impressive that the religious rituals and the practice of trance in ceremonial had suffered no corresponding decline.

ple; the Poera ϋέεβ or Village Temple; and the Poera Poeseh, the Temple of Origin. Besides these, there were also the following examples: the Poera Agoeng, sacred to the Great Mountain; the Poera Batoer, sacred to the Great Crater Lake and to the Mountain which lies surrounded by it; the Poera Segara, sacred to the God of the Sea; the Poera Kajangan, a secondary form of the Death Temple; the Poera Dalem of Panti, an individual Death Temple belonging to one of the subgroups; the Poera Madjapait, sacred to the memory of the Javanese dynasty which conquered Bali in the fourteenth century; and five Poera Iboe, or Mother Temples, each supported as a higher ancestral temple by all those who traced their ancestry from a single line. Besides these fourteen major and minor temples, there was the small household temple to the ancestors in each individual housecourt. The High Priests and members of the nobility had larger and more imposing household temples within their courts.

All the bandjars or wards of Intaran together formed what was known as one bald agoeng, a central organization to which belong all the members of all the subgroups. The bale agoeng in Bali was a unit of both religious and political significance, in some regions of vastly greater importance than in others. In some places it could be a powerful center for the control of communal affairs. But here in Intaran it was a mere shell of a political form. It is not clear if it was once the seat of a council, as the name suggests, which later had lost its power over the subgroups, or if the form of the hale agoeng had been imposed at some time on the region by a ruler attempting to make it correspond to the organization of other regions, but it never was accepted as a political power by the members. However that may be, the significance here of the bale agoeng was purely religious. It linked together all the temples to which its members belonged and bound them with ties of traditional "kinship."

All of the major temples had at the time of the study, or were said to have had in the past, special trance mediums who would act as representatives of their various gods and who in this capacity would attend the rituals of their own temples and of the other temples in the group. Each of the temples had a day on which it celebrated its odalan, the calendrical festival, once in 210 or 420 days, unless it was prevented by an uncleanness caused by death or disaster in the contributing group. Each of the 811 household temples also had a yearly festival, and on the occasion of any one of these the trance mediums from the chief temples might be asked to "bring the gods down" as a part of the ritual. The representatives of the gods would have an endless busv round of appearances here and there all over the district, often as many as two or three a week.

The temples concerned included the three chief temples generally found in the Balinese village system: the Poera Dalem or Death Tem-

These particular trance mediums were variously known, according to their rank and standing, as koelit or perekoelit, sadeg, -pengadegan, peresoetri, peresanak, and kngengan. The terms most commonly applied to them as a group, in Intaran, were sadeg for the "pillars of the gods,"

18

Intaran

and ingingan for the followers, the trancers of lesser importance, the "babblers." W e shall confine ourselves to these two terms except when some special point is to be made by the use of one of the other titles. The sadegs had all been ordained by a special ritual and were considered to have reached a state of purity like that of the Brahmana High Priests in that they were not subject to the uncleanness which would affect ordinary members of the village following a death, a birth, or some other circumstance. Only in case the entire bale agoeng, that is, the wider community, had been rendered unclean would the sadegs have been affected; the subdivisions or bandjars to which each sadeg belonged might be temporarily unclean without involving them. When the temple festivals occurred, the sadegs from the different divisions would not be summoned but would come of their own accord. There was no compulsion upon them to attend. They themselves said that only severe illness on their part or in their immediate family would have kept them away. They were recompensed for their services by money and food offerings amounting to a value of no more than a few cents, a mere token payment. T h e sadegs were both men and women, and came from all four castes. Many of them were advanced in years, with a long tradition of trance practice in their past life. Two were newly initiated during the period of our investigation. Among them were some of the most fantastic types to be found in the entire island, the sort of people one would tum around to stare at if one passed them in the road. T o see them enter one by one into the temple court—this bent old lady whose hair was twisted into the oddest topknot on her head, so that she resembled the "Old Maid" in a pack of children's cards, that other crone whose wrinkled face was as expressive as that of a great actress, this old man who walked leaning upon a staff, with long hair carefully dressed and the thin beard of a patriarch flowing from under his chin—one after another, to take their places for the seance, vou might think it was a madhouse into which you had strayed. But when they saw Katharane

District Mershon, their eyes would light up, they would greet her, they would take hold of her, they would draw her with them toward the pavilion where they were to sit, and would urge her to be "smoked" with them over the incense brazier, that she too might go in trance and be entered by a god. As a friend who had known them for many years, she gave an intimate account of their ceremonials, their distinctive attitudes, and their personal histories. [Account by KM] The trance mediums come dressed in a special style of costume typical of the sadeg. Men and women wear tight jackets with long sleeves, buttoned high up to the neck; the kamben (which is the unsewn Balinese version of the Javanese sarong) is wrapped around their hips in the manner appropriate for men or for women, the women's reaching to their ankles, the men's knee-length with folds hanging in front. They also wear scarves round their waists. Their favorite colors are white, black, and red, the religious colors, associated in Bali with the three chief Hindu gods, Siva, Vishnu, and Brahma. The scarves are often of loud black and white check, an especially holy combination. The women wear any fine rings they may possess for these formal appearances, and the men their kris stuck through under the waist scarf at the back. Expert men sadegs very seldom wear a headcloth. As a rule their hair is long and may be done up on the top of the head, as a High Priest wears his. Both men and women have flowers in their hair. Each is accompanied by one or more persons, and one of these followers carries a basket in which are the clothes to be put on by the sadeg when possessed by the god. The changing of the clothes is a part of the ritual, and occurs after the sadeg has gone in trance. They may be very elaborate, with appliqued gold leaf in patterns, and may include a jacket, a headcloth, a kamben and scarf, and sometimes a little mat of colored cloth that is spread over the lap of the "god." In other cases the ritualistic clothes are extremely simple. The people say it depends upon the "wishes of

The Sadegs the god which enters him" rather than upon the taste of the individual sadeg. As a group the sadegs are clean and well groomed, and, though dressed in rather eccentric fashion, each gives the impression that his getup has been chosen with great care. At a temple festival, the trance ritual takes place after the dedication of the individual offerings and the large collective offering (jriodalan) to the temple gods. It happens in the night, sometimes after an entertainment has been given, sometimes before, according to convenience, and even at times simultaneously with the entertainment. It is necessary that a goodly portion of the members of the temple be present at the trance ritual, for the singing of a large group crowding around the pavilion where the mediums sit is considered an important inducement for "bringing the gods down." Everyone is expected to participate and do his share in the festival, the men carrying the god-figures on their shoulders, playing in the orchestra, singing, and dancing in the offering dances according to their abilities; the women assisting with the arrangements of the offerings, the dressing of the women sadegs, dancing with the offerings in the mendit and with the gegaloeh puppets.1 Men and women stand by ready to catch in their arms those who have violent fits when they go into trance, and to support them when they lose consciousness. A special offering is made for the "bringing down of the gods," and is placed to the north of a pavilion known as the bale piasan, the dressing-up or exhibition pavilion. The offering consists of flowers, food, incense, coconuts, money, arak, arranged upon two offering stands with pedestals, such as are used for tables when setting food before honored guests. In the pavilion the trance may take place on two raised platforms built between the pillars, or on the floor of it, where mats are spread for the laying-out of the offerings and the seating of the sadegs. The temple priest officiates. He is seated in the 1 Small puppets placed in a shrine with the gods and taken down during the ceremony to be "danced' around the courtyard.—JB.

19

center of the group and looks as if he were very much a part of it, but actually he is outside the sadeg organization. He ministers to the sadegs just as he does to the figures of the gods in other parts of the ritual. His function is to execute the ceremonial and to pronounce the prayers, asking the gods to come into the bodies of the sadegs. He may be assisted by other temple priests who raise in their hands the braziers, the water-vessels, and the cleansing bowls, and who may speak prayers and waft the essence of the offerings toward the gods. When the sadegs have gone in trance, the priests present to the gods who have arrived, in the persons of the sadegs, the proper offerings and homage in the form of prayers and stylized phrases of polite address. This is all that is essential to the trance ceremonial—the exhibition of the gods, an attestation of their presence. Often no very startling utterances are made, no commands are given. Then the appears as merely a conclave of the godly presences, without specific functional significance. At other times, the gods give warnings and instructions for keeping off plagues and calamity, or orders to the community for some activity they wish to be carried out. The priests act as questioners of the gods, asking them what they have to say, inquiring for a prescription for medicine or for advice for the people of the village concerning debts and tributes to be paid to the gods in the form of offerings. The ritual of the sadegs' trance may be divided into the following sequence, which shows how the ritual belonging to the s£ance proper is merged at the beginning and at the end with other rituals belonging to the usual sequence of a temple festival, which have no essential connection with the s£ance. In other districts where the trance is not thus institutionalized these other rituals may take place without the participation of the sadegs; where the trance seance is a part of the customary temple procedure, the sadegs are apt to play an important role in the preceding and succeeding observances and may easily go into trance in the course of them, so that the influence of the sadegs is spread

20

Intaran

out and not sharply confined to their own formal sitting. It may make the description of their individual behavior clearer if we oudine the sadegs' usual procedure thus: 1. The laying out of the necessary offerings for the sadegs in the haΙέ piasan. (This belongs to the sadeg s6ance.) 2. A ground offering is laid out, around which the sadegs and other women dance, carrying the gegaloeh puppets. (This belongs to the gegaloeh dance, regular temple procedure.) 3. The sadegs are formally seated on the pavilion, as if at a feast, and each is given a leafplate offering, containing food and money, intended for the god which is to enter each of them. The "feast" for the gods includes libations of arak and a twist of betel distributed to each. The priest prays, the audience sings, the orchestra plays, smoke rises more and more thickly from the incense braziers. (This is the gettingready period of the sdance.) 4. There is a pause, during which the sadegs chew the betel, and may chat quiedy among themselves. The priest performs no ritual acts, chews betel himself, or smokes a cigarette. (This is a relaxation period, customary at this point of the s£ance.) 5. The priest begins to pray again; freshly lighted braziers have been brought, the smoke of incense grows thicker, collecting under the low eaves of the pavilion. The singing and the music of the orchestra redouble their intensity. The sadegs sit quietly, expressionless, until of a sudden one begins to tremble or to shout, and one by one the others follow in rapid succession, until all have fallen into trance. 6. The sadegs are dressed in their ceremonial clothes, and the ritual toilet tray is presented to them. 7. The talking in trance. The priest addresses the godly personalities; they converse among themselves; petitions are presented. When the talk is finished, the sadegs generally come out of trance of their own accord, bending over the brazier. If they do not, the priest politely requests the god to "go home," to "go up" once more to the upper world, leaving the body of

District the entranced. (This is the end of the stance proper.) 8. The sadegs get down from the pavilion if they wish to join in the dance with offerings (wendit); otherwise they sit where they are and converse, watching the proceedings. Some of the ingingan women and the sadegs who are dancers seem to carry over in the dancing a trancelike state, so that one wonders if they have really come out of trance, or perhaps immediately relapsed into trance while dancing. (The mSncUt dancing is part of the regular temple festival procedure.) 9. A dance with crossed spears (mebiasa]), danced usually by men, may be done by some of the sadegs who were in trance before and now may go in trance again. Other men, not sadegs, may go in trance for the first time of the evening in the execution of this dance. QMebiasa is often performed in temple festivals with or without trance.) 10. A final dance ritual, dancing in single file around offerings laid out on the ground, and intended for the demons who may have been present, who came in the wake of the gods. Sadegs and engingans may again join in this dance and not infrequendy go into trance, especially at the conclusion of it, when all the people present become very excited, begin to shout and scream and set off firecrackers making loud explosions. This is the send-off for the departing gods and their retinue of demons. (This dance is called kintjang-kintjoeng, a name which seems to refer to the special music played by the orchestra to accompany it—a rather tinkling melody which sounds not in the least demonic. In many other districts a similar dance and music are known by this name and are associated with breaking out into trance after a long series of preliminary dances has been performed. The peculiar shouting of words like "tjeriok, tjeriok, hehhhh!" belongs to the district around Intaran, and is not found everywhere.) Thus the participation of the sadegs and ängengans in the whole course of the ritual affects the entire sequence, and their trance activity is by no means confined to the actual

The

Sadegs

21

sitting. As a rule the more violent manifestations—thrashing of limbs, convulsive behavior, and falling into deep unconsciousness—take place at the beginning of the s£ance. Thereafter the sadegs become more composed and, during the conversation in trance, appear to be in a somnambulistic state. T h i s is also the case when they g o into trance while performing the dances; they seem to drift in and out of trance without experiencing any more violent paroxysms. Occasionally, however, some may relapse into the state of deeper unconsciousness, they may have to be "smoked" over the incense brazier, sprinkled with holy water, and special offerings may have to be presented to them in order to bring them back to themselves. T h e patterns for inducing trance, the techniques for going in and coming out are extremely stylized: thus, at the end of the sdance, the sadegs of their own accord bend over the brazier, inhale the smoke, clap their hands together, and lift them over their heads in the formal reverence. But the behavior of each subject is idiosyncratic within the set patterns. Some have special twitches, grimaces, tendencies to cry, to snatch at the hot coals and try to get them in their mouths, as well as favorite gestures, postures and attitudes dependent upon the trance role they are playing. In the cases of the different individuals we are going to present separately, we shall show how this idiosyncratic behavior is related to the character of the subject, his conception of the godly personality believed to enter into him, a n d his story of how he came to be possessed.

years of my stay in Intaran there was no sadeg for the G o d of Batoer in the Poera Agoeng. A new sadeg for this god was initiated in September, 1937 [see p. 47]. Both of these cases I followed closely, and in both the first sign that the man was to become a trance medium was his falling desperately ill. In questioning the sadegs of long standing as to how they came to be possessed by the deities, I have found only one case where it was said that it had not been accompanied by severe illness [ M e m e n Gentir, see p. 25]. After an illness of one to three months, when they "did not want to eat," they said they became aware that the god had taken them and was speaking through them. T h e decision was made to have the initiation ceremony, mesakapan ke dewa. ( T h e term mesakapan is the same as that for the marriage ceremony, so that the initiation ceremony could be said to be called "marriage to the god." But the ritual itself does not suggest a marriage, and our informants did not further elaborate the idea.) Some of the mediums have followed this rite with further ceremonies, known as ngantin άέχοα (also a wedding t e r m ) and pemajoen. In theory, it is only after the three rituals have been completed that the trancer becomes a fullfledged sadeg. In practice, they take their places in the sadeg group after the first initiation ceremony, and the other rituals may be indefinitely postponed. A good deal of good-natured discussion goes on among them as to whether this one or that one is really complete ( p o e p o e t ) , that is, whether he has, as he says, actually fulfilled all the ceremonial requirements.

In my own experience there has been no case of a sadeg of Intaran ceasing to perform in his or her capacity as a representative of the god. N o one has been removed except by death. N e w sadegs take the place of those deceased, but a period of years may pass before the place is filled. T h e matter is generally left until the god of the temple concerned makes an appearance to someone and directs the one he has chosen. T h u s the Koelit of Dalem, as the sadeg for the Poera Dalem is called, was replaced by his son two years after the father's death. For seven

M a n y of the sadegs are also temple-priests (pemangkoe) for the temple of the god they represent in trance. In most cases they have inherited the function of temple-priest, and acquired the function of sadeg. M a n y priests are not sadegs, of course, and many are sadegs who are not priests. But if a man or woman holding the office of priest begins to practice trance, it is usually claimed that it is the god of the temple he or she serves who has entered the individual. T h o s e sadegs who hold the office of temple priest as a rule do not go into trance at

22

Intaran

District

festivals in their own temples where they are officiating. I h a v e seen all the temple priests of Intaran, with o n e exception ( t h e P e m a n g k o e G e d e of the Poera A g o e n g ) go in trance at one time or another. T h e sadegs, especially the older w o m e n a m o n g them, are very talkative; they like nothing better than to repeat the stories of supernatural occurrences which have accompanied trance manifestations. T h e s e tales are of mysterious balls of fire ( e n d i h ) which have appeared over a temple or over the house of a sadeg at the time of some crisis; of this wellknown m e m b e r of the g r o u p w h o was seen riding the waves seated u p o n the back of a great fish; or of that other, an old lady, w h o was lifted by the gods to the top of a coconut tree a n d sat perched u p o n the p a l m frond, unable to come down. T h e y also enjoy elaborating the theme of the gods' family history a n d the "kinship" between the temples. T h e y will tell you that all the temples of the complex belong to one hale agoeng a n d are therefore related—but they will also tell you that " t h e Poera K a j a n g a n is w i f e to the Poera D a l e m , a n d the Poera Iboe is the youngest child." T h e idea that the gods are a great family, some of w h o s e kin inhabit temples at a distance, while other members m a y live together in a single temple, keeps recurring in their explanations. T h e y told of a case of two temples in a neighboring district whose gods are two brothers w h o quarreled and are now not speaking. For this reason the sadegs of the temple of the younger brother may not visit the temple of the elder brother. In the Poera D a l e m there are two koelits ( h i g h ranking sadegs), one for the god Betara D a l e m a n d one for a minor god, Betara L a b o e h Api ( F a l l i n g F i r e ) . For the

DJERO

PLASA,

initiation of the new koelit of D a l e m the people h a d to m a k e sure that it was Betara D a l e m himself w h o had taken the sick m a n , a n d not another god of the temple. For the initiation of the new sadeg for Batoer they h a d to discover whether it was the Father ( A d j i ) or only a C h i l d (Oka). Finally it was decided that it was the Father, Betara Batoer himself. 2 H e r e are the individual histories of a number of the chief characters of the Intaran group. E a c h is a marked personality who must b e known to be appreciated. W e shall introduce them separately, trying to suggest something of the particular flavor of each personality. T h e record of their behavior in the g r o u p which will follow their individual histories can best b e understood in terms of the personalities of those w h o play the trance roles, taking into account their own earnest view of the relationship between themselves a n d the gods they represent. ' In these explanations appear inconsistencies as to the sex of the gods, typical of Bali. In many districts the temple or shrine to Betara Batoer was sacred to the great lake of Batoer, a female deity considered as the consort of the great mountain, Goenoeng Agoeng. The chief deity of the Poera Dalem was in many cases also female, Doerga (Durga), the terrible manifestation of Siva's wife Giri Poetri. Here in Intaran the god of the Poera Dalem was said to be Siva himself, together with his wife Giri Poetri; and the Poera Kajangan was the place sacred to them in their terrible form (Roedra and Doerga). This statement is in accordance with the Balinese conception of the paired deity, the God-andhis-wife, inhabiting a single shrine. It does not appear to be consistent with the statement that "the Poera Kajangan is wife to the Poera Dalem." This doubling of the imagery did not seem to bother the Balinese. In Sajan we were told that two figures set up to represent the gods at a festival were a male and a female. On each figure were attached two little faces. When we asked why, we were told that each figure in itself represented a male and a female, the God-and-his-wife. -JB.

KOELIT

D j e r o Plasa is a w o m a n of perhaps seventy years of a g e ( F i g s . 1 a n d 2 ) . At times, in the temple, she seems a m u c h younger woman. B u t in observing her on other occasions, watching her

KAJANGAN

movements in ordinary life, one realizes that she is indeed very old. H e r personality is so strong that she dominates not only the entire group of sadegs, but in fact the whole assemblage in the

The temple. When she enters the gate, everyone seems at once to be aware of her presence. Like the perfect old actress that she is, she does not fail to play up to her audience. She takes, and holds, the center of the stage. Djero Plasa is an excellent dancer, and one of the characteristics of her behavior in trance is her tendency to break into the postures of the dance. She may even get up from the formal ςέβηο^ during the period of trance and do a turn in the center of the court. She may, after coming out of trance, join with the other women in the ritualistic dances. Occasionally she goes into trance on her way to the temple and, on her arrival, dances her way into the temple court. She has a great sense of humor. In her ordinary contacts she makes many jokes and thrusts at her colleagues, and the quality of wit and pointed allusion she introduces also into her ceremonial performances. It seems to add to her quickness in handling any situation in which others are concerned and in keeping for herself the position in the limelight. Her speech is eloquent; she is well versed in the phrases of the "high language." She has a deep, mannish voice and a laugh that leaves no doubt that she is really amused. In the practice of ritual she is devout, and undeviating in her role of one "possessed by a god." She is very clear in her mind about what is the proper custom and order in the ceremonial. Frequendy she interrupts the officiating priest in the performance of his rites, tells him that he is doing it wrong, and proceeds to tell him what is right. Rarely have I seen her fail to carry her point. Djero Plasa lives by herself far from the village, in a tiny house surrounded by rice fields, but close to the temples of Dalem and Kajangan. She has no child of her own living. Sometimes the children of relatives come to stay with her, but for the most part she is quite alone. She says that she is not afraid, although it would be rare to find an adult man in Bali who would dare to spend a night alone in such a remote spot. Perhaps because of this very fact, she has a reputation of possessing great magic power CsaktO, and at one time it was whispered about

Sadegs

23

the village that she had the power to transform herself into a lejak, a witchlike spirit. From Djero Plasa herself I have never heard any hint that she practices the black magic Qpengiwa) associated with such transformations. Only once did she make a remark which suggested that she knows she is suspected. I asked her if she had been to see the new sadeg, Raka, who was so ill that he was on the point of death. She said, "No, for I am an old woman, and if anything should happen to him, they would say that I did it." She does openly practice as a balian or trance doctor. Petitioners come to her house to ask for medicine or for her help in the search for lost articles. I have seen her go in trance when her services were required in such a connection. On one occasion when I was at her house a man came in with two followers bearing presents and the necessary offering. They came before her as she sat on the little porch of her house, made obeisance, and addressed her by her title as trance practitioner, Koelit. She accepted the gifts—rice, vegetables, dried fish, and fruit which was out of season. The offering contained a coconut, eggs, and money—Chinese cash. She asked what they wanted to consult her about and sat quietly chewing betel for a time. Then she rose and went to the bathing spout at the back of her house, washed her hands and face, and let the water spatter a bit on her torso. She combed back her hair and plucked a red hibiscus from the hedge, placing it on the top of her head. From inside the house she took a little coat and scarf which she put on, binding the scarf high around her breast as a man wears his. She took up from the offering the litde tray of betel and flowers called tjanang, and placed it in the opening of the shrine of her house-temple. She made three times the reverence to the ancestor god. Then she came back and seated herself on the raised platform on the porch of her house. She sat cross-legged as a man does and rested her hands on her thighs. After only a few minutes, sitting quietly with her eyes closed, she suddenly raised her arms and clapped her thighs, her customary sign that the god has entered into her.

24

Intaran

She lifted her arms and performed a few movements of the dance. H e r eyes, open now, were staring, and her entire attitude that usual to her in a trance. She uttered many unintelligible sounds and finally, becoming more articulate, referred to the question of the medicine. After this she was silent again, only making dance movements. T h e n she announced the prescription: a newly laid egg from a black hen, followed by drinking seven times water mixed with certain leaves. A few more dance movements, and she clapped her hands over her head, coming out of trance, and made three times the gesture of reverence to the god. She continued talking then, in her normal personality, asking the visitors if they had understood. T h e n she began to chew betel again and sat chatting informally with them as the conversation became general.

District the peril of her life. Death would have been the punishment for such behavior. Together with her father and all her family, she fled from Peliatan. T h e y walked and they walked, in the fear of death, until they came to Intaran. Here they settled down, and Plasa married again. Her husband was a Koelit too, she says, but it was some years before she took u p the practice of trance.

T h e pattern of her going into trance, the posture, the dance movements of the arms, the deep-throated sounds, the clapping of her thighs as she went in and the clapping of her hands over her head as she came out of trance, all were identical with her performance in the temple which I have seen many times. T h e only difference was that on the whole her behavior was quieter: she made less of a fuss before and afterward; she played u p to the audience less than she does in the presence of a crowd. She says that in her private practice she is entered by the same god who takes possession of her in the temple ceremonies. This is Ratoe Agoeng Mad£ Kajangan, god of the famous Kajangan temple which stands not far from her house.

Before she became a Koelit she was very ill. Her first symptoms were sores which practically covered her body. For months they would not heal. O n e day she had the impression that she had "news" about a medicine to cure her infected and swollen bodv. She had a feeling that she heard a voice or saw a person (she thinks both) who told her that she must go to the sea. Her husband took her there, and they arrived late in the evening. She went out on the sand, and there suddenly she saw a spring of water on the edge of the sand and pumice stone floating on the top of the water. She called out that she saw a spring. Her husband was so frightened to see her apparently "in trance" that he fled. She sat by the spring a long time. She heard sounds and voices. T h e n it became clear that she should take the pumice stone and scour her body. W h e n she had finished rubbing her body with the rough stone, it was morning, the spring had gone, and there were no stones about. She called for her husband, who crawled out from under the hedge. She asked him to take her home. W h e n they arrived, she found that all the sores on her body were gone, but that she was still very thin.

According to her own story, Djero Plasa did not come originally from Intaran, but was bom in Peliatan, a village some thirty kilometers to the north, and, in those days, under the rule of a different Radja. As a young girl she was desired and taken as a concubine by one of the Princes of Peliatan. It is for this reason that she, born a commoner, is called by the title Djero. As the Prince's concubine she was confined within the walls of the palace and jealously guarded. W h e n she was still very young, she scaled the wall one dark night and escaped, at

A little later, she went with friends living near her to a small island just off the shore, to the south. They reached the island without difficulty, but on the way home many of the canoes upset. People shouted to her, for her canoe was riding swiftly over the waves. She became entranced and stood u p in the boat shouting, "Many of the god's subjects are dead!" (literally, "The ants that follow are dead," a typical trancetalk epithet). She did not know that she said this; the others told her afterward. She "forgot her bodv" and had no feeling. W h e n they came

The Sadegs to the shore, she was still in trance, but totally dry (as a sign that she was magically powerful or possessed by a god). The people tried to lead her home. They were helping her to walk, when suddenly she felt that she was sitting crosslegged on the top of a dry frond in the crest of a coconut palm. She knew that she was high above everyone, but it did not matter. Many people, she says, saw her and were afraid that she would fall. They got out fish nets and strung them below her. She only remembers that suddenly she saw them and said, "Oh, now my body will fall." She slid down the dry frond, and the people caught her and carried her home. They told her that she had spoken all the time she was in trance of Ratoe Agoeng Mad6 Kajangan, the god of the temple of Kajangan. After this episode, when her husband was in trance, it was Betara Siwa who came into him, and it was Ratoe Mad6 Kajangan who came into her (Siva and his wife, the male and the female principle). Her initiation as a Koelit, the ceremony mesakapan ke dewa, was duly performed in the temple, and from that time on she has served as Koelit Kajangan. When Djero Plasa goes in trance in the temple stances it is always in the same manner. She sits cross-legged, like a man, and not with her legs under her as do the other women sadegs. She sits quietly for a bit, with the smoke blowing over her face; then her body begins to shake slighdy; after this she may begin dance movements with her arms, hands, and head. As these continue she is more and more carried away until with a deep mannish voice she begins to shout and call out. At this point she claps her hands against her thighs (a sign that the god has arrived). After this her behavior varies. For the ceremonial dressing she may herself put on the special garments, or it may have to be done

M6M£N

GENTIR,

SADEC

Μέπιέη Gentir is a woman past sixty, taller than the other sadeg women, very slender, and a beau-

25

for her by the assistants. The dressing is very elaborate, and she may reprimand the helpers for carelessness or errors in the arrangement of her garments. Sometimes she dances through the entire procedure, making it very difficult for the dressers, and as a rule sings or hums to herself. Once dressed, she will talk at great length if the question raised is an important one. Often she converses with the other gods present in the bodies of the sadegs, asking them questions in place of the priest, whose role it is to do the questioning. She comes out of trance by dancing and by giving the same mannish shout in her guttural voice and, finally, by clapping her hands over her head to show that the god has departed. She then very slowly makes a reverence, raising her joined hands to her forehead three times, and smokes her hands and her face over the brazier of fire. Before going into trance and again after the söance, she may take part in the dancing ritual with the other women. One of the other sadegs, Μέπιέη Gentir, is her favorite partner for these exhibitions. The two old women make litde dramatic scenes of their own, each acting her part, and paying no attention, at times, to the ceremonial which the other members of the temple are endeavoring to carry out. So completely do they seem to give themselves up to their impersonations that it is quite impossible to tell if they are in trance or not. In this partnership, Μέπιέη Gentir plays very definitely a feminine role, while Djero Plasa, in strong contrast to her, is in all her gestures undoubtedly playing a male part. Her pointedness of movement and the look in her eyes, an intense forceful expression, combine to make a compelling, highly dramatic performance, which, once seen, is never to be forgotten.

POBRA

IBOE

SAMPING

tiful dancer (Figs. 3 and 4). She has a great wealth of gray curly hair that stands out in a

26

Intaran

fluffy mass on her head, and when she is dressed for the temple, she does it in a great silver swirl to the left at the back of her head. She is a very simple sweet person who has little to say. She and Djero Plasa are warm friends. Djero Plasa teasingly calls her Ni Keboen on account of her hair, a nickname which could be translated as "Miss Topknot." I have mentioned that Djero Plasa and Μέηιέη Gentir often dance as partners, making up litde theatrical scenes which they incorporate in the temple ritual. Μέτηέη Gentir is a tireless dancer. I have seen her go on for hours at a temple festival, dancing until sunrise. Her dance movements are noticeable, for she seems always to be dancing "on an angle." She makes sideways, oblique movements that are fluent and outstandingly feminine. She has a much brisker foot action than any of the other dancing women, and though she is many years older than Doersi, Masi, Tompong, and the other women who are prominent dancers, she outdances them on every occasion. Often while she is dancing she seems to go in trance. It is perhaps because she is in the trance state that she Aoes not tire at the festivals. For in everyday life she walks with a decided limp and never goes far from her own house. She has a great number of children and grandchildren, and the stamp of her rather unusual face is borne down even to the youngest grandchild. It is a large family, remarkable for the family resemblance of all the members. And this resemblance is to Memen Gentir, not to her husband, whom I also knew well before his death. Μέιηέη Gentir is the priestess (petwangfeoe) for the temple Poera Iboe Samping, which is honored by all the descendants from the Samping line. It adjoins the Poera Desa and Poeseh of Intaran, a sign perhaps of the long standing of this family in the district. She is the only one of the sade g group here who became a trancer without being struck down with illness. The following is the report of our conversation when Μέηιέη Gentir ( M G ) told me how it happened.

District KM: When you first began to be entered by a god, were you not taken ill like Djero Plasa and I Roenoeh? MG: I was not ill. All of a sudden I was entered [went in trance], and that is why I am a sadeg now. KM: Where did it happen the first time? MG: I first went in trance at the Poera Iboe, next to the Poera Desa. T h e one I serve now is the God of the Poera Iboe. At that time the people were having an odalan medoedoes [big festival], and I had never yet gone in trance. It was night, and there were many sadegs in the temple, and many offerings. I saw all the sadegs sitting together [for the stance] and I sat on one side, for I had never had the thought that I might go in trance. The sadegs were all seated, and the orchestra was playing, and the priest was praying to the gods. W h e n the leaf-plates Qdaoenan~) were distributed I also was given one, for I was the priestess of that temple. In a moment, I all of a sudden lost consciousness and cried out. I don't remember anything about it. My friends told me that I was lifted and placed on the bald fiasan [raised pavilion], and there I was with the other sadegs. It happened at the odalan, on the day [of the Balinese calendar] called Soma Ribek. First my head suddenly got heavy, and my feet bumed. There were a great many sadegs there, perhaps thirty. Those who are still alive now are Si Ged6 Bandjar, Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, Goja, Djero Plasa, Siloeh Kompiang. Those are the ones who are [still] yengadegan [sadegs]. The others are all dead. All the sadegs who were there together went in trance, every one. My body suddenly was burning, from the earth straight up to the sky—that's how it felt. When I went in trance my relations took hold of me, they thought I had gone mad, for I had never been known to go in trance before. That's why they thought I was out of my head or confused. As soon as they realized I had been entered by a god, they lifted me to the pavilion. Then the other sadegs begged me for utterance. And the priest, Mangkoe Ged6, also asked me to speak. In my speech it appeared, so they say,

The that it was the God of the Poera Iboe which had entered my body. As soon as it was clear, the sadegs came out of trance, all the other ones, and I alone remained in the temple all that night. My child [indicating a boy of about 20] was at that time still a baby, not yet weaned. From the time that I stayed in the temple overnight, he never wanted my milk any more.

Μέιηέη Gentir went on to tell of the initiation ceremonies that followed, the mesaka-pan ke dewa and the pentajoen, and all the offerings that were made for her in the various temples. After that she was "complete" and has continued to attend the festivals in all the temples. She says that she always goes in trance, no matter what temple it may be. She said, "When I dance it is because a god tells me to dance. If the god does not tell me to, I do not dance. Before I became a sadeg I did not know how to dance." This comment is interesting, for it makes her case a parallel to what is claimed for the child sanghyang dancers [see p. 180], namely, that they are not trained to dance but, once in trance, they are able to execute the movements as if they had been trained. Only if one has an idea of the degree of stylization of Balinese dance gestures can one appreciate the significance of the statement. Μέπιέη Gentir takes her dancing very seriously, as a sort of rite. As a rule she dances only in the temple. O n two occasions I asked her to dance in her own courtyard so that I could take her photograph. The first time she made us wait while she had a bath and changed her clothes. Then she presented offerings to the litde shrine which stands in the center of the court (not the household temple). She lighted an incense brazier and made a reverence to the god; with the brazier she performed the ritual of presenting offerings to the god. Then, taking the brazier she had used in the ritual, she rose and danced with it, very beautifully, around the

Sadegs

27

courtyard. Another day I again surprised her by asking her to dance. She had been in the kitchen cooking. She looked at me and smiled, then raised her hands three times in the gesture of reverence to the gods, and began to move in her angular, strangely graceful postures. At the temple s6ances, Μέιηέη Gentir sits always at the back, nearest the priest, but not actually in the circle of the chief sadegs. She puts her legs, folded under her, to one side, joins her hands, closes her eyes, and just sits. When going into trance she begins to shake, but not violendy, finally raising her hands in the air over her head with a clap or a clasp. Then she falls back. She often calls out in a high childish voice, which is her natural voice, but it is very much more childish than on other occasions. I always have the impression that a small, delicate, feminine god has taken possession of her. All her behavior is quite in keeping with the rather oblique, shy movements she makes when dancing. Once in trance, she is dressed as the other sadegs who act as spokesmen of the gods, but she says very litde except 'Tes, yes," or "It is done." Her utterances are of litde importance, and her chief contribution to the trance ritual is her dancing. In the temple for which she is priestess and representative of the god is a litde sacred figure of the god called an artja. This artja is carried about in procession, when the members of the temple attend some festival in the neighborhood. Μέιηέη Gentir has told me that when she is in trance, she sees fire emanating from this artja, that it is radiant, and that it sends out flaming light which comes and goes. Such a detail of hypnagogic imagery in the statements of our subjects carries conviction. Such details are often original: there is no repetition of them in the reports of the other subjects. And this fact is the more striking in view of the rigid stylization of both their behavior and their utterances when in the state of trance.

28

lntaran

District

SILOEH KOMPIANC, SADEG D6SA

Siloeh Kompiang is a woman of perhaps fifty years of age, with gray-black hair and a curiously hawklike nose, suggestive of a strain from India (Fig. 20). She belongs to the Wesya caste, but in her antecedents there has been so much admixture of commoner blood that she has lost the tide of Goesti and retains only the tide Si* Sometimes people who want to flatter her call her Ratoe, as if she were a princess, but as a rule she is not treated with deference by her associates, the other sadegs, who have no rank at all. Djero Plasa and Μέπιέη Gentir are her great friends; the three are often seen together, chatting and passing the time of day during dull moments of the festivals. Djero Plasa treats her as if she were a litde child and has often reprimanded her for telling me names of gods and information about temples with which Djero Plasa did not agree. Afterwards Djero Plasa will say to me, "Siloeh Kompiang likes to talk too much." Actually she has never talked half as much as Djero Plasa. Siloeh Kompiang is the priestess for the Poera D6sa, or Village Temple, and also the sadeg for the god there. She keeps the artja (figure of the god) in her own courtyard, lest it be stolen. She takes care, she says, that no one who is unclean shall enter where the artja is kept. She knows a good deal about the making and the presentation of offerings, and this is one of her favorite subjects for conversation. Neither in trance nor out of it does she ever make any consecutive statements of much import. She was very ill on the day that I went to question her about her earliest memories of trance and about how she became a sadeg. I thought that telling the story might pull up her spirits, and this is exacdy what happened. Her face glowed as she recounted the days of her initiation, very much as though they were the days of her glory. She described with affection in her gestures how Djero Plasa and Μέιηέη 'S« is the title; loeh means female.—JB.

Gentir had nursed and guarded her during her illness and protected her from the evil manifestations which accompanied her first trance experiences. She said, "Ni Plasa used to watch over me all night. Somehow or other, when it was midnight, she would arrive, and she would nurse me, or Μέπιέη Gentir would nurse me. I have a great debt to Koelit Kajangan [Djero Plasa]. In the night she would come, and I would ask her, AVho came along with you?' She would answer, Ί came alone.' I asked again, 'Do you dare to come alone, in the night, alone?' And she answered, "Why should I not dare, there isn't anything [to be afraid of].' When it was near to dawn, then she would go home again to her hut in the fields. If she had not watched over me, oh, I should have been devoured by witches." Siloeh Kompiang dates her initiation as a sadeg at a time ten years, more or less, past. She knows that it was after the earthquake of 1918. This is as accurate a statement of time as one can hope for from the average Balinese. She has been a sadeg for perhaps as much as ten but not as much as twenty years. For a month she had been ill with fever—she was hot and cold, and for two months she could not eat rice. She remembers the first time she went in trance, that it was on a pavilion with nine pillars. "Suddenly the god came to my body; suddenly he sat upon me. The first thing the god said was that it was the God of D6sa." I asked her, if it were not known what god had entered a person, whether that person could become a sadeg. She said, "It must be clear first what god has seated himself, if it's not like that it doesn't count (sing kanggo). How could you be married to a god [referring to njakapan ke dewa, the initiation ceremony] if it were not clear?" She went on to tell then of the initiation, of all the offerings they had made, on the third day, on the fifth day, after a month and seven

The days, and so on, the names of the offerings, and the temples to which they were presented. During all the initiation period she was so ill that she had to be carried in a sedan chair to and from the temples. And it was at this time that there were mysterious fires all about the walls of her house, both day and night. And there was a fire over her head which did not go out, day and night. It was as if there were a lamp over her, all the time. N o one could see the light over her head except herself. She said, "It was the fire of the god which had sat in my body." Then she thought that the roof of her rice barn was on fire, for there was a yellow flame springing from it. And that fire nobody saw but herself. "That fire was the magic power (kesaktian) of whoever had sat in my body." Djero Plasa and Μέιηέη Gentir would come to watch over her during the [dangerous] hours of the night, between midnight and dawn. When she was better, Djero Plasa urged her to go out, and took her to call on a Dajoe (a woman of Brahman caste) who was also a sadeg. When they were out on the road and Djero Plasa was leading her by the hand, suddenly Djero Plasa said, "Why is your hand wet?" And Siloeh Kompiang said it was because she got cold all over and wet with fear at the thought of meeting people. These little hints of her character are very congruent with her behavior in trance. She sits in the group very quiedy. She clenches her fists

ANAK

AGOENG

ΜΑϋέ

Sadegs

with the thumbs over the tops of the fingers and places her fists on her knees. She sits with her legs under her, in the approved feminine style. She closes her eyes and seems to concentrate very hard, all the time keeping her hands and arms in the same rigid position, parallel to her thighs. Finally when trance is near the muscles of her face begin to twitch a bit, but very slighdy. Then starts a quivering and shaking of her body, always with an up-and-down movement, never relaxed and swaying as with some of the other subjects. W h e n "the god arrives," she gives a strangled sort of cry, throws her hands over her head, then brings them down so that they strike her thighs with a thud, after which she reaches out for the brazier. Then she settles back, sometimes falling into the arms of a supporter, or, if there is no one to attend her but her small son who carries her ceremonial clothes, she slumps into a relaxed position with her head falling forward on her chest. She is dressed in a litde coat of white, ornamented with gold leaf, and a scarf also with gold; a sash is bound up over her shoulder and down around the waist; on her head goes a heavily gilded headcloth. She rarely ever accepts the flowers that are offered as part of the ritual. She never says anything except 'Tes," "The god has come," and jumbled phrases including the words "Betara D&a," the name of her god. There is in her behavior no outstanding play for dramatics. Her performance is not spectacular, but one which she endows with quietness, tautness, and a peculiar intensity.

BANDJAR,

Anak Agoeng Madέ Bandjar has been for all the years of my stay in Intaran the sadeg for the God of the Goenoeng Agoeng (the Great Mountain), worshipped at the chief shrine of the Poera Agoeng (head temple). He is also the temple priest for a smaller temple, the Poera Dalem Giri Kesoema, about ten miles down the beach from the center of Intaran. He lives near the temple for which he is priest, sacred to the

29

SADEG

GOENOENG

AGOENG

god Ratoe Manik Tjandi, here a deity connected with the sea, guardian of fishermen, and powerful in preserving the dwellers on the land from pestilence and plague thought to emanate from the sea. He has identified this god whom he serves as priest with the God of the Great Mountain whom he represents in trance, for he has told me that the two gods were one and the same and only differendy called in the

30

Intaran

different temples. He does not always attend the stances of the sadeg group in the other temples, perhaps because he lives at such a distance. But he does come very often to the festivals, and in the seven years of my acquaintance with him I have seen him go in trance scores of times. H e is a man of Satrya caste, and perhaps fifty years of age. He has very strong features, a quiet repose, a concentrated gaze, and a general manner of aloof superiority (Fig. 17). I well remember the tremendous impression he made upon me the first time I saw him take part in a s£ance. I nicknamed him the "Black Priest," and I thought that he and Djero Plasa were hypnotizing the other mediums. T h e force of his character is reflected in the opinion of him voiced by the other villagers. He has a reputation of being magically powerful to an unusual degree Csakti fisan), and the stories current about him emphasize the belief in his power. It is curious to compare the tale of an event in his past life as it was first told me by another informant, and vouched for by many of the villagers, with Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar's own version, which we collected some months ago. One of my houseboys first told me the tale. H e said, "If the Anak Agoeng were not sakti, why would the gods have saved his life?" I said I did not know the story and was told the following: Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, when he goes in trance, is entered by the god who guards the outrigger canoes. One day when he was out fishing in his little canoe, the boat overturned in the high waves and was lost. Three days the people of the village waited for his return. Then he was given up for lost. T h e people were lamenting him still, when one man on the reef saw a great wave coming shoreward and in it an enormous fish, and sitting cross-legged on the back of the fish was Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar. He was quite unharmed but wet from three days' soaking. Many people on the reef saw it. T h e man cried out. They brought him back to his house. Everyone knew that the god of the temple Giri Kesoema had seen his plight and made it possible for him to ride upon the back of the great fish.

District When I inquired of the other villagers, I found that all the people of the district knew the story. They augmented it with further details. T h e fish was described specifically as an ikart pai. After his rescue the biggest sort of festival was held in the temple, an odalan medoedoes, which some say lasted for three days. About three months after I had first heard the tale, I visited Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar and asked him to relate it once more. He told of his experience, how he had almost drowned, but he made no mention of the great fish. It was only after I pressed him for this detail that he finally agreed to it, saying that he had felt as if there were a great fish carrying him, but that he had not seen it. T h e conversation with Anak Agoeng Madέ Bandjar ( A A M B ) went something like this: AAMB: I had a dugout, and its name was Sri Sembawang. I set off from here while it was still night, before dawn. Right there I got in the dugout, and those who were with me were I Menggol, I Lanoes Meranggi. As soon as I was away from here, the dugout did like this [gesture]; it turned over." K M : Then what happened? AAMB: There was a very big wave, as high as a coconut tree. My dugout was knocked about, and shaken; somehow or other the dugout went under. After that it was like this, filled with water, and there was nothing that I could do. I gave myself up for lost. One whole night I was tossed in the waves. I was out of breath. I will die now, I thought. I was ready to go under and to die. Let the sharks come quickly now, I care not—such were my thoughts. Nothing else happened, that's all. K M : Wasn't there a big fish? AAMB: There wasn't anything. After a time, through the mercy of the gods, I knew how to swim; then there was a big wave that entered me. K M then told the story she had heard of the fish. AAMB: Oh yes, that was later. I had the feeling I was standing on the fish, but I didn't

The see it. I had the feeling it was frightening. I didn't dare to look. It seems to me evidence of Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar's good faith that he himself does not enlarge upon the story, which has grown into a favorite legend among the other villagers. His fellow members in the group have also told me that they believe his trance seizures to be genuine (sadja). The reasons they adduce are the following: he rarely ever stays in trance long, and when he talks it is always understandable; generally his utterances have to do with matters relating to the sea; many times he goes to the temples and does not go into trance, although he sits there and tries, and he is not like the other sadegs and engengans who always go into trance at every odalan. These comments suggest that a mechanical response to the stimuli present at the seance—the incense, the singing, and the prayers—cause the trance seizures to be treated with more skepticism: if a medium is truly entered by a god, it will not happen every time. In the seven years that I have observed him, his method of going into trance has not changed; and, when he does go in now, the onlookers are as forcibly impressed as if they had never seen it before. He sits very still and gazes at the brazier, inhaling the smoke. As he comes nearer to trance, he places his hands around the brazier and leans over it, so that the smoke flows into his nostrils. At this time the sinews stand out on his neck, and perspiration streams down his face and shoulders. He then begins to shake; there is a tremor in the upper part of his body; the muscles of the torso twitch. At the same time there is a rising and falling pulsing movement of his legs. He rises ever so slightly from his sitting position and relaxes again, so that it becomes a pulsing like a rapid jiggle. At last he throws himself forward onto the brazier, many times grasping the hot coals in his hands and thrashing his body about in a violent paroxysm. The

Sadegs

31

god has arrived. He then collapses into the arms of the assistants. When the ceremonial clothes have been put on, he may talk at length and most clearly, but he does not give utterance on every occasion when he goes in trance. He may give advice as to the plague, which is considered to invade the land coming from the direction of the sea. It was he who made the utterance which decided what god has entered the newly initiated sadeg Roenoeh [see p. 47]. His speech is powerful, though his eyes stay tight shut. When coming out of trance he sits quite still, then suddenly claps his hands in front of him. The god has gone home. He then smokes his hands and his face very reverendy over the brazier and sits back, relaxed. After coming out of trance, he rarely ever has anything to say for the rest of the night. There is no triviality in his performance, and he is as much respected as Djero Plasa, but for a different reason. She compels by her dramatizations and real theatrical showmanship, whereas he is simple, powerful, concentrated, intensely dramatic, but alwavs in a restrained way. I asked him one day to tell me how he felt when he went in trance. He sat very quietly for a while and looked very far off. He spoke slowly. He said he felt a prickling (semoetan) all over his body. He made gestures as if his skin prickled and shuddered as he scratched himself with his fingernail. He said his head became very heavy and began to swim. With this he swung his head around as if he were dizzy. Then his "body stings very much," and he "does not remember" (that is, he loses consciousness). He told me he never remembers a word of what he has said nor anything that happens after the god takes him. When the god goes away the first thing that he remembers (becomes aware of) is the feeling that all the hairs on his body and on his head are standing up straight (cf. our expressions "goose flesh" and "my hair stands on end")· Then, he says, it is over, and sometimes he is tired, but generally not.

32

Intaran

KETOET

ROEROENG,

SADEG

FOR

Ketoet Roeroeng, who is known as a doctor (fceliew) who practices by going into trance, serves also as the trance spokesman for the masked figure of the Barong in the village of Delodpeken. H e is the only one of the male sadegs who in trance assumes the role of a female deity. His behavior, then, the complete change of his personality from masculine to feminine, makes a curious contrast to the transformation in Djero Plasa from female to male. This man in his everyday manner has not the least trace of the effeminate about him. H e is strongly built, aged about forty-five, and wears a big black mustache. H e walks with a slight stoop, affecting a studied carelessness in gait and posture. H e has a sort of swagger, a "villian of the play" attitude. When he goes in trance and assumes the role of the female deity, he is bedecked with golden bracelets, so much too small for him that they have to be tied to his arms. These and other feminine attributes of the trance role strike a note of incongruity with his bold black mustache and his masculine physique.

District

THE

BARONG

AT

DBLODPBKBN

His gaze is intense, and his expression morose, except when he begins to talk. Then his whole personality becomes animated; his speech and his gestures are imbued with a driving force. H e tends to speak with modesty of his accomplishments as a trance medium and as a doctor. H e does not volunteer any fantastic stories of early visions and experiences. All the information we have was elicited with careful questioning.

of the new sadeg Ida Bagoes Raka, which we were able to follow in detail. When going into trance, his attitude is at first relaxed, somewhat uncertain, but soon changes to extreme violence. H e is a strong man, and, when he is about to be possessed, he thrashes about more strenuously than any of the others in the group. H e kicks with his legs and throws himself about on the ground. It is almost impossible to hold him until he has passed through the agitated phase into a deeper state. After he is truly possessed, he becomes very weak. H e cries with a woman's voice, weeps as a woman would weep, with all the sobbing sounds that accompany the tears of women. T h e change of the personality is complete during the trance; the change affects his total bearing, all his acts and attitudes. As Djero Plasa becomes a man, talks in a man's voice, seats herself like a man, gesticulates like a man, so Ketoet Roeroeng reverses the process and becomes a woman. H e sits with his legs under him like a woman, but this attitude he assumes only after he has gone into deep trance, for he begins by sitting cross-legged as a man sits. His body droops sideways; his whole attitude is feminine. It is strange to see the strong figure of the man, his face bearing the black mustache, suddenly go so completely feminine. The change in Ketoet Roeroeng is more incongruous than that in Djero Plasa, but both impersonations are equally successful.

H e must have begun to practice when he was in his early twenties, for he dates his first experiences from the time of the great earthquake, twenty years earlier. H e was trained as a pupil of the famous doctor Ida Bagoes Λ'Μέ. H e counts among his successful cures cases which even his master and even the Dutch doctor had failed to cure. ( O n e of these tales we will recount later on.) H e also figured prominently as a doctor and consulting medium in the initiation

The people of the area do not give any explanation of the change in him in terms of his personality, nor in fact do they discuss the change of sex except as related to the godly personality which he impersonates. They say that he is entered by the Ratoe Ajoe, who is a feminine god, and the god of the Barong. These masked figures of the dragon are as a rule identified with Banaspati Radja, the King of the Demons and a male. Here the people also claim

The a relationship of their Barong with Banaspati Radja, but they nonetheless maintain that the god of their Barong is a female. It is an instance of the type of superimposed symbolism in which the religion abounds and which they do not find at all confusing. It is not impossible that the belief is based upon a trance utterance made by one of the spokesmen at a seance, and that Ketoet Roeroeng, taking up the bit of legend and incorporating it into his trance performance, has reenforced and elaborated upon the original formulation. Here is the record of a conversation with Roeroeng ( R ) in which we inquired about his beginning as a trance practitioner. K M : How long ago is it that you, Roeroeng, became a sadeg? R : Oh, I have been a sadeg for a long time, since the time when Ida Bagoes Mad£ was alive. It was at the time of the great earthquake that I first became a sadeg. That was in the year 1918. Now it is the year 1938. That means it is a long time that I have been a sadeg, and a doctor. It makes twenty years. K M : How was it in the beginning—were vou sick? R: In the beginning my body and my feelings were like a person crazed. After that, then I got sick. When I was well again I threw away much money [gambling, etc.], and then my thoughts turned to wandering about from temple to temple. I went around to all the temples. At that time the Barong, Ratoe Ajoe, was being awakened [a revival in the use of the masked figure of the dragon]. My feelings were that whenever I went to the Temple of Death where the Ratoe Ajoe was living, I felt happy and my thoughts were at ease. In any other place suddenly my thoughts were confused, and whenever I could be near to the dwelling of the Barong, my thoughts were not confused. Well, when it was like that, at the awakening of the Barong, I went into trance, and when I went into trance it was Ratoe Ajoe who sat in my body· Then Ida Bagoes Mad6 spoke to me thus: "Now, Roe-

Sadegs

33

roeng, you must stay right here and be a sweeper [ceremonial term for priest] in the temple. Do not wander off." I answered, "Yes, lord, I would not dare to go away." After that, then I made the offerings, and Ida Bagoes Made was going to perform the ceremonies ngeloearan and mesakaγαη. When the offerings were ready, we had the ceremonies. K M : How did you feel when your body was entered? R : [No answer.] K M : Goja says that he feels as if he were burning. R: I feel like that too, just like that. K M : Where does the burning begin? R: From the head it goes down, so that I think I cannot bear it. K M : Was it a long time that you were sick? R: It was perhaps a month that I was ill with fever. I asked for medicine from Ida Bagoes Mad6. When I was cured he ordered me to sweep and to serve as priest climbing up and down the shrines, in his own house-temple, and to take care of the Ratoe Ajoe [goddess of the dragon], cleaning her. It was lucky that at the time I began to go into trance the people were repairing the Barong for awakening it. After the priest had prayed, suddenly I went limp and lost consciousness. From that time onward I was ordered by Ida Bagoes Mad£ to remain in his house and to make offerings and to keep my thoughts straight. K M : When the Barong dances, do you dance in the figure? R: When the Barong dances, I am not allowed to dance. I watch over it, when it is put away or when it is taken down, and I am also allowed to clean it. K M : I have been told that you are very clever with medicine. How is that? R: No, who told you so? I don't know letters [how to read]. This is how it was, the reason why I am able to give medicine. When I had finished the business of becoming a sadeg, there came a man who was sick. The illness was very severe, and even Ida Bagoes Made's treating it

34

Intaran

did not make it go away. Then I had a thought how to give medicine to this sick man to help him, to give him water with an onion in it and with seven grains of rice. Because the gods were kind to me, the sick man got well from that illness. From that time onward, then, whenever Ida Bagoes Mad£ gave people treatments and medicine, he told me to stay beside him. It h a p pened then that I had much practice, and every day saw people being treated. From that time onward I knew how to give medicine. According to the sickness, the medicine has to be; but, when I give medicine it is by good fortune only. If the gods are pleased, the person can get well with the medicine I give them. The following is the story of one of Ketoet Roeroeng's cures taken down by my Balinese secretary. The patient was a little child who "had a stone in his penis." Ketoet Roeroeng was able to cure him when all the other authorities had failed. This story was given to the secretary by Ngembon, stepmother of the child: In the beginning Ngembon was married to Geredet and had no child. All that Geredet did was to gamble and bet at the cockfights. His wife Ngembon worked hard as a vendor. She sold cooked rice, and she sold pigs, and she sold raw rice, and thus she got quite a lot of money. Geredet only spent it. When they had been married a long time, Geredet took another woman. Her name was Roepeg, and she had been married to Mad6 Terana. Terana was her cousin, and that is why they were not happily married and were afterwards separated. When Geredet had taken her, she became pregnant and had one child. When the child was a little over a year old, his penis got sick, and he could not urinate. Ngembon and Geredet went all around looking for medicine, and they visited the balians, in Sanoer and in Intaran, and they even went to the High Priest Pedanda Made, and to the High Priest Pedanda Oka, and to Ida Bagoes Ν ^ έ , and nobody could help. After that, because the belly of the child was getting bigger and more swollen, and he was not able to

District urinate, they took him to the Chinese, to ask for medicine. The Chinese wanted to massage the belly of the child and give him medicine. But because the sickness was so bad the Chinese did not dare to massage him, and he ordered them to take the child to the Dutch doctor. Ngembon and Geredet then took the child to the Dutch doctor [in the town]. When they had arrived, the doctor carried the child inside the room and closed the door, and Ngembon and Geredet wept outside, for they could not see their child. The child was examined by the doctor, and the doctor spoke thus: Ί am not able to give medicine to this child here. You must hurry and take him to the doctor in Soerabaja [Java]. Also, you must take this child day after tomorrow to the doctor; if not, the child will die." When Ngembon heard this, she could not answer because she was so very troubled and because she had been ordered to carry the child so far away. At that time by good chance there was a fellow villager of Geredet who often gambled with him. This fellow villager spoke to Geredet thus: "Well, Geredet, how is it? Aren't you willing to bet on your child the amount of one hundred ringgits [dollars]. If you are cockfighting, you dare to lose a hundred ringgits. The way I see it, if you don't dare to bet on your child, people will speak badly of you." The doctor had ordered Geredet to take money to Soerabaja to the amount of one hundred ringgits. The plan was to go to Soerabaja on the day after the morrow; if they did not hurry, as soon as they arrived in Soerabaja the child would die. Geredet and Ngembon just didn't leave off crying. They went home in a carriage, carrying the child. The child's belly was very large. In the carriage, then, Geredet and Ngembon began to count and to reckon. Ngembon said to Geredet, "Well, Geredet, if we go to Soerabaja, I have quite a few pigs that I intended to use for the festival at the house temple. If we go to Java, we can use that as funds for the journey. If it does not amount to a hundred ringgits, then we'll have to borrow a little more." That night quite a few people came to see

The

Ngembon at her house because she intended to go so far away across the sea. The fellow villager of Geredet whom he had met in the town also came to the house. This man then spoke to Geredet and Ngembon, thus: "Well, now I think it is better to give up the plan of going to Java for medicine because the sickness will grow much worse on the way, and, while you are on the way, your child will die. Then you will have to throw his body in the sea, and that will be a very great trouble for you. Even going to Java, the will of the gods must be. If it is not the will of the gods that he should live, wherever you take your child, he will still die. If it is the will of the gods, just have him treated in Bali; he will get well." At that time there were a great many people at the house of Ngembon. All the people s u p ported the speech of this fellow villager of Geredet's. And so it happened that Geredet gave up his plan of going to Java. The halian who had given medicine before was also there. The treatment he gave before had not worked. This balian was the sadeg who is called Ketoet Roeroeng. He went into violent trance. In his trance he said that it was one of the [god's] followers who was making the belly sick, very sick. Then Ngembon and all the people there were troubled. They asked Ketoet Roeroeng for medicine; and they asked what the reason was that the follower [of his god] was making the belly so very sick. They begged Ketoet Roeroeng to give medicine to the [god's] subject. Then he made medicine, and, when it was ready, the illness of the belly of his [god's] subject went away. The belly of Geredet's child was very large, and Ngembon cried and cried because they had only one child, and he was so very very ill. Then Ketoet Roeroeng in his trance spoke thus: "The other time, up until once or twice or even thrice I still had the favor of the gods [the taksoe, or control spirit of the Barong, spoke through him]. Now take me to the Temple of Death, and let Ngembon accompany me, and anyone else who has the idea to come with us." Then at once they took Ketoet Roeroeng to the Temple of Death. At that time he had come

Sadegs

35

out of trance. And it was told then that when they reached the temple Ketoet Roeroeng and Ngembon alone went in. The others who accompanied them were told to remain outside. Then Ketoet Roeroeng and Ngembon together bathed in the ditch which runs along the edge of the temple. It was night. Ngembon said that because she was accompanied by Ketoet Roeroeng she was not afraid: wherever he would take her, she would not be afraid. If it had not been like this, she going along with Ketoet Roeroeng to whom she was paying money, she just would not have gone to the Temple of Death. Ketoet Roeroeng ordered her to submerge herself under the water as she bathed and that when she came to the bottom when she could reach the sand and had the feeling that the water was hot, there she must bathe. That is the way they did it, Roeroeng and Ngembon, and they found the water hot on the bottom. Ngembon told us: "Well, whatever Ketoet Roeroeng saw there while he was bathing and while he was giving offerings, suddenly he seized it, and on the road whatever he saw, that he took and that he used as medicine for the child. After that I went home with him again. When we came to the house, Ketoet Roeroeng prepared the medicine and he said: 'Ngembon and Geredet, both of you listen to what I say. For the medicine for the child, smear this on the blade of a kris and prepare a pot of hot water. And when the kris blade is red hot, then put the child in the pot. Every day soak him thus three times.'" Before they had gone to the Temple of Death, Ngembon was always alone at home because she was not getting along well with her husband Geredet. Luckily, along came Ketoet Roeroeng to the house of Ngembon and exclaimed, "Lord god!" because she was alone at the house with the sick child. Then it was that Ketoet Roeroeng all at once went into trance and wept and swayed. Then someone said to him, "why do you do this, lord? What is your desire? Tell us why you have come." After that time going into trance, he went into trance once more at the Temple of Death

36

Intaran District

and thrashed his body around, and then he took the bath. It was after he had come out of trance that time that he went home with Ngembon. Ngembon said: "The next day I was at home all by myself, and the child was being bathed. Suddenly I had a start, and I cried out like this, 'Brother Marja!' Brother Marja answered, 'What?' I said, O h , brother, what is this which is coming out of the penis of the child? It looks like the seed of a lemon.' I was very much troubled. Marja said, 'Oh, we musn't wait. Hurry and call Geredet.'" Geredet was fetched from the market stalls. Then Geredet sent for Ketoet Roeroeng who had been treating the child. As soon as Ketoet Roeroeng arrived, Ngembon said to him, 'Indeed, sir, please look upon this, for I am very much afraid. The penis of the child is giving forth something white like the seed of a lemon. What do you think it is, sir? Is it the sickness that wants to come out, perhaps? What is the meaning of it?" Ketoet Roeroeng said: "Well, the way I think, perhaps it's the stalk of the swelling, that which was stopping it up so that nothing could come out; that's why it was swollen. Now, leave it like that, and once more boil the kris blade, and when it's hot put the kris into the water, and soak the child once more in the pot." Ngembon said: "I can't get the thing which is coming out to break loose." Roeroeng replied: "Oh, you mustn't pull at it. Leave it alone till it comes loose of itself. If we do the wrong thing, let that not be the cause of it, that the sickness should get worse, and we have a disaster." As soon as he said this, Ngembon left off pulling at what was coming out of the child's penis. The time-for-the-chewing-of-a-quid-of-betel had not passed while the child was soaking, when suddenly it popped out, the white thing that was like the seed of a lemon. And it shot across the building and fell down like a coral stone. After

it came out, shooting out like a stone, then came out pus, and after that blood, without stopping. Ketoet Roeroeng said it was that which had brought the sickness, that now it had come out the sickness would disappear, because before nothing could come out on account of the stone being in the penis. Now he said to leave off the soaking, so that the pus and blood would stop coming out. The water in the pot looked just like chocolate mixed with flour in water. The water in that pot was red and white in appearance, because of the blood and the pus in it. Then they put leaves from the crossroads on the penis to stop the coming-out of the sickness and the pus. Ketoet Roeroeng ordered them to anoint the belly also with leaves from the crossroads. Then he went home to his house. They continued using leaves from the crossroads every day, and the swelling of the belly disappeared, and he was able to urinate. And now he is completely healthy. At the present time he is two years old. [End of Ngembon's story]

Ketoet Roeroeng himself told us, when we questioned him about this case, that he afterward took the child to the Temple of Death to have his name changed. "There I begged the gods to give the child a name that would make him live a long time. And the gods gave him the name I Bandoeng. As soon as he was called I Bandoeng, he got well at once and has been healthy ever since." In a version of the case given us by Roeroeng, he stated that when he went into trance in the temple and gave the order for the soaking of the child in water with a steel blade, it was Ngembon who took note of his trance utterances, for he himself was unconscious and did not remember anything of what he had said. Ketoet Roeroeng throughout gives credit to the gods for the success of his cure.

The Sadegs

X GO J A, K O E L I T

I Goja is a very frail looking old man, probably between sixty and seventy years of age (Figs. 12 and 15). He does not give the impression of great age, for his face is comparatively smooth and unwrinkled. He always wears a distinctive costume, a little black coat and a white kamben (loincloth). For the ceremonial dressing when in trance, the coat is of the same color and pattern but is ornamented with gold leaf. He has a sparse white beard which hangs irregularly down his chin to a length of about five inches. He walks with a staff and wears his hair in a knot on the top of his head, like a High Priest, so that when I first knew him I thought that he was one. But he does not belong to the Brahmana caste in which High Priests must be born. He is a commoner, and only because he is the venerable Koelit of Dalem, the trance representative and spokesman for the Temple of Death, may he affect the style of dress suitable for a Holy Man. His god is called Betara Laboeh Api (the God of Falling Fire). He makes a point of his title of Koelit (or Perekoelit), and stated, before the advent of Ida Bagoes Raka, who also was accorded this tide, that he and Djero Plasa were the only ones of the sadeg group who might be called so. He gave no explanation except that the representatives of the gods of Dalem and Kajangan always had been called so, whereas the representatives from the other temples had the tides pengadegctn, sadeg, and so forth. He also makes a distinction between the names for the lesser trancers, as for instance, peresoetri for those who dance, and who are 'like heavenly nymphs" Qdedari); peresanak, those who talk in trance; perekangge, those who "make complete the ground offerings" (to the bad spirits), dancing around them, "which most people call kintjang-kintjoeng." These last, he says, most people call ingingan, the term which we have found most familiar. It is possible that Goja, when he is so explicit in making the distinctions between the types and

37

DALEM

functions of the various trancers, is using a terminology which was once current in this district and has become obsolete. For he belonged to the group of trancers active in the previous generation—a generation which still carried over many of the ways belonging to the courts of the Radjas, antedating the conquest by the Dutch in 1906. He says that there were in that group forty members, all of whom were present at his own initiation, and "today only one other member besides himself is still alive, and that is Pan Manis." He remembers the time before Djero Plasa became the Koelit of Kajangan and that in those days I Waki was the Koelit of Kajangan and that it was some years after his death that Djero Plasa was initiated. Nevertheless, when he gave us the list of the sadegs of the group now serving, he named Djero Plasa first, and himself second. Goja is, according to Balinese standards of erudition, an intellectual, for he practices medicine as a bcdian oesada (a lettered doctor). He is a quiet man, reserved and rather aloof in his demeanor. Although I sat next to him at the trance s6ances for years, it was only in the last year that he felt free to come to my house to visit and chat. During our later acquaintance, it became clear that Goja has a gift for what is known in Bali as adjap-adjap, equivalent to our terms "thought transference," "mental telepathy," or "extrasensory perception." On three different occasions when I had been thinking about him and planning to go to see him—he lives at a considerable distance out in the rice fields—he suddenly appeared at my house and said that he "just had an idea to come." One evening I had been discussing him with my secretary, saying that we would have to find him so that I could get his story of how he became a trance medium. The next morning he appeared, and we collected the story. Another time was about three months before the present writing. I had not seen him

38

Intaran

for some weeks. I had no need to talk to him and so had not been thinking of him at all. One night I had an impression that he was ill, and I decided that the next day my secretary, KP, and I would go to call upon him. T o my great surprise, as soon as I left my bed the next morning, I saw Goja and his wife, Tombong, entering the grounds. He looked terribly ill, and they both seemed to be under some great strain. When they had made me a gift, and we had exchanged a great amount of useless conversation, they at last came to the point and said that they had come to ask my help. It seems that Goja felt ill; but there was worse trouble. Two months before there had been a ritual in a household temple. Goja attended, went in trance as usual, spoke as usual, and when it was over, felt as usual. But when he returned home he began to have this feeling of great lassitude. He described it very graphically, with gestures, and told how instead of getting better, he kept feeling worse. He made offerings and took them to the Poera Dalem to ask the god there for help. His wife went with him. While they were at the temple, he seemed to go in trance, and he had the feeling that he must stop his practice as a balian oesada (doctor). When I asked him why, he said he did not know why, but that he just had a great fear and felt very ill. Finally his wife, Tombong, had said that she had dreamed that they must come to me for help. They both looked as if they were on the verge of some great disaster. I tried to find out if either of them had had malaria, for I thought he looked very "yellow." They both said they had not, but later on she admitted that she had felt very ill for several days before she had the dream about me. At any rate I decided to give them the medicine for malaria and sent them away each with a bottle of atabrine and very firm orders as to how they were to take it, which I believed they would follow. I told them to report to me after the completion of the five-day course, and said that, if he still felt that the power was being taken from him (as he described it), I would call on Djero Plasa and perhaps Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar

District to see if the spell could be broken in some other way. They took the medicine and departed, looking rather downcast. Six days later they returned, looking very much better. When I questioned him, Goja said that he felt stronger. I suggested that we do nothing further for a time, knowing that he needed only to build up his strength if the atabrine had got at the source of the trouble. It was two months later when he appeared again, looking very hale and hearty and completely well. No further mention was made of his giving up his practice as balian. I cannot resist adding a further note on this case. Between the time of Goja's first visit to ask for medicine and his return six days later, Djero Plasa came to see me. I told her of his plight, that I was trying my medicine, but that if it was not effective she and Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar would be called upon to assist. I thought she would be as distressed as I when she learned that he felt he was losing his power as a balian. But she smiled at me and said, ,r What difference does it make if he stops being a balian? There are lots of balians. Pay no more attention to it and waste no more time." Whether or not this was professional jealousy or the expression of unconcern on her part for an associate of whom she was perhaps not overfond, I could not discover. Here is the record of what Goja told us when we inquired how he had become one of the sadegs: Goja: In the beginning I was ill for a whole month. During my illness my thoughts were confused. After that, I just stayed still and ate very litde. And the world looked yellow to me; everything looked yellow. Then I was entered [went in trance] in my hut in the fields. When I was entered it appeared that it was a god from the Poera Dalem. The one who took care of me when I was in trance was I Doealang, from Poeseh [a division of the village]. He was the one who watched over me at Dimel in my hut. Before offerings were made for me, I went in

The trance three times. It happened at night and in the day. When it had appeared that it was a god from Dalem [the Temple of Death] who had seated himself in my body, only then did the people begin to make the offerings. They made them in the Poera Dalem. The sadegs who were there numbered forty altogether, and the "follower sadegs" [the lesser trancers] also numbered forty. The people had a sdance on the day of the full moon, anggar kasih [an important day in the conjunction of the Balinese calendar with the moon's phases]. [He went on to tell of the initiation ceremony, and of the High Priestess who officiated.] When I went in trance, I did not remember anything, and everything looked yellow to me. [Later on he told us more of his sensations.] When I go in trance, I am soaked into from beneath by the burning; then my legs shiver. After that, it rises and rises. In a moment, all at once my head is heavy. I remember [come to] again, and forget [lose consciousness] again, alternately. KP: In Sindoe there are people, they say, whose bodies are cold when they go in trance. Goja: There are different ways of going in trance: there are people whose eyes are open, others whose eyes are shut; there are some who have tremors, others who don't; and there are some who cry out; some sway backward and forward as if they were half asleep. [With this summing up of the differences in individual behavior, Goja changed the subject, or rather, returned to the subject we had been discussing, the subject of the completion of his initiation

THE With this introduction to the chief personalities of the sadeg group of Intaran, now that they have been presented with something of the history of each as a trance practitioner, and with some indication of the manner in which such personalities became inducted into the ceremonial life, it will be possible to give a description of an actual siance in which these sadegs

Sadegs

39

rites.] When the people had presented the djaoeman offerings, then that was all they had to do in the temple, and from that time on I was called Koelit. Goja in his conversation displays the qualities of his mind which place him as an intellectual among the Balinese. He is articulate and clear in his explanations. He likes to classify and to give specific names to things. If a subject is raised, he prefers to bring the discussion to its proper conclusion. He is more interested in the ceremonial which marked his induction as a trance practitioner than he is in describing the symptoms and sensations which he himself experiences. When this subject is brought up, he again classifies the various forms which the trance seizures may take, basing his statements upon his observation of others and without special emphasis upon the introspective. Of his behavior at the trance stances, I should say that it is quite in keeping with his character—quiet, dignified, without any show of histrionics nor of abandon. He is one of those who speak in trance, and on one or two occasions I have heard special questions put to him at the He always has a place of honor in the circle, often at the northern or "upper" Qutdja) end of the pavilion. But in spite of his seniority as a sadeg, he does not stand out as a dominant personality in the way that Djero Plasa does, nor is he in any sense a leader. [End of account by KM]

SEANCE came together and took part. Their relationship with each other tended to link together the various temples and divisions of the villages in a network of religious ties. These ties were based upon actual kinship and descent from an ancestral line, or on the relationship of subjects giving allegiance to an original Temple of Origin belonging to a ruling family of the past, or, when

Intaran

40

such real links were missing, upon imaginary links which had been discovered or pronounced through trance utterances. T h e stance which we are going to describe took place in a household temple on the night of September 1, 1937, and was attended by a complete sadeg group. T h e occasion was the yearly festival of the household temple, a calendric event which varied with each household. T h e family seized the opportunity offered by the formal sitting of the trance practitioners to consult the gods manifesting themselves through their presences as to the nature and remedy for illness in the family. O n the following night, September 2, 1937, the yearly festival was celebrated in another household temple of the same village, and atKM tended by the same group of sadegs. attended both sessions, accompanied by J B and G M , who took detailed notes and recorded the time sequences. From a comparison of the ritual order followed on the two successive occasions and the cuing and duration of the trance seizures occurring within this prescribed order, the patterning of the ceremonial trance emerges sharply. T h e point of chief interest is that these people were able to go into trance states and to produce all the effects which would, against another background, be called hysterical seizures, but only when the occasion was fitting and only

ODALAN

AT

A HOUSEHOLD THE

TEMPLE

SADEGS

District when placed in a ceremonial setting which dignified the manifestations with religious significance and related them to the immediate problems of the participating group—in a word the whole experience would hoth sublimate a n d socialize. It was the cultural phrasing which m a d e all this possible. It transformed illness a n d abnormal states into matters of religious import; it institutionalized the role of the trance practitioners both as spokesmen of the gods' will and as experts to be consulted in case of trouble. T h e concept of evil was extended to include with illness, disaster, failure of the crops, or loss of objects—all blanketed under the single concept of the gods' ill will. T r a n c e manifestations were tied u p with the ceremonial invocation and the attentive reception of the godly presences, affording the entranced the same deference as that offered the little figures into which the god's spirit was invited to descend. T h u s the entranced were identified with the underlying motif of the festival as a temporary and beneficent arrival from on high; the presences were to be glorified, bedecked, given offerings and refreshment, asked to make known their will, and politely sent home. T h e manifestations of the trance states served to strengthen and underline the meaning of the ceremonial: they were not thought of as something different and apart from it.

IN

PRESCRIBE

T h e occasion is the yearly festival in the household temple of two brothers whose separate courts adjoin the little temple court. T h e priest of the Poera Agoeng ( G r e a t T e m p l e ) , who is called the Pemangkoe Ged0, has been asked to officiate. Six of the chief sadegs and four &ngengans have been summoned "to bring the gods down," as a part of the ritual. Since one of the members of the family is ill, the family plans to take advantage of the sdance to ask for medicine for the sick man.

INTARAN, FOR

SEPTEMBER

1,

1937

ILLNESS

T h e y have also engaged the services of a highcaste woman, Anak Agoeng S i Ajoe, to take charge of the offerings. T h e entire orchestra of the village group is present to play for the ceremony. T h e orchestra players contribute their services because one of the two brothers holding the ceremony is a member of their club. T h e family is of the lowest caste, but prosperous. T h e members of the family itself are not particularly in evidence during the evening, except one who goes in trance, entered by the ancestral god,

The Seance Dewa Ijang. They do not come forward as hosts, nor do they direct the proceedings, but leave the entire ritual in the hands of the priest, the highcaste offering specialist, and the whole group of sadegs who have descended on the house. In the court of the household temple are ten shrines, for various gods,4 and one of these shrines is for the ancestral god Dewa Ijang. There are also two large temporary altars, filled with offerings, and the offering pavilion called bale piasan on which the seance will take place. There is no room for the orchestra, and it has therefore been placed in the court adjoining the living quarters. Only a low wall and a little gateway separates the outer court from the temple court. 8:00 P.M. T h e orchestra is playing when we arrive; the priest is there, and some of the sadegs. The offerings are arranged on the stands, the sets of leaf-plates, spread as if for a feast, ready on the bale -piasan. W e are received by the offering specialist, who is a friend of KM's, and given a place on the hale piasan. This woman behaves as if she were the hostess. Siloeh Kompiang, one of the sadegs, is talking about the ancestral god as if he were a person. She says, "Dewa Ijang has just come from the sea, where he went to take a bath." 8:17

Μέπιέη Gentir, another sadeg, comes in and joins us. In a few moments, Djero Plasa makes her entrance. From the time she passes through the gate of the outer court, she begins to dance, posturing and making dramatic movements of the hands as she advances. She is dressed in a black and gold jacket. Old and frail, she makes a striking figure. The other sadegs do not pay much attention to her. She dances a few steps up to the bale piasan and seats herself on the edge of the platform, near to the

' T h e other shrines are to: Goenoeng Agoeng, Goenoeng Batoer, Peretiwi, Mendjangan Soeloeang; a Sanggah Kemoelan; Gedong Tarib; Pesaren; Taksoe; and a Bedoegoel to Djero Ged£.

8:22

8:25

8:27

41 place which will be hers when the begins. Ngigelang gegaloeh. Offerings are laid out on a stand before the gate. T h e women take down from a shrine the three gegaloeh puppets with which they will dance around this stand. There is almost no room for dancing. T h e puppets are made of the tal palm, with fanshaped headdresses, and stand in clay pots covered with cloth. They very closely resemble the adegans made in this district for cremations as receptacles for the dead souls. T h e women who are to dance with them carry them in the left arm like babies and bind them in a scarf which passes under the left arm and over the right shoulder. W e are told the gegaloeh puppets are a male and two females. Μέπιέη Gentir takes the lead in the dancing. She makes a reverence three times and starts off, circumambulating the shrine counterclockwise. N i Masi follows her, and in line behind her come the three women with the gegaloehs. T h e last one is Ni Entog, a member of the family holding the festival, who later goes in trance. They have gone around once. They continue, the second and the third turns with leaf-cups of arak-berem with which they make libations. For the fourth turn, Μέπιέη Gentir dances forward alone while the others hang back. She does a solo, in her strange exaggerated manner of dancing, her eyes fixed and intense. She dances halfway round and, with a ritualistic gesture, takes from among the offerings a twist of betel and places it on one comer of the offering stand; she dances back, takes another twist, places it on another corner. Now the second woman dances up to her, puts out her hand and receives a twist of betel, turns toward the northeast (the direction of the gods),

42

8:36

8:40

8:45

lntaran makes a reverence, turns back to continue dancing opposite Μέπιέη Gentir. N o w one by one the gegaloeh bearers come forward and receive betel from Μέιηέη Gentir, and the same business is repeated. T h e n the five women proceed to the shrine of Dewa Ijang, where the gegaloehs are removed from their scarves and "seated" upon the shrine. Μέιτιέη Gentir continues to dance a little by herself. Meanwhile, during the distribution of the betel, the Koeltt Goja has arrived. H e also makes an entrance, walking with his staff, his hair in a knot on the top of his head with a flower in it. H e is followed by his wife, Ni Tombong, also a trancer, who bears the ceremonial clothes for him. H e goes to the place of honor at the head of the bale fiasan and quiedy takes his place. T h e orchestra stops playing. Djero Plasa, who has been sitting on the edge of the pavilion talking to us, asks our pardon and turns with her back to us, facing the offerings. She sits crosslegged now, for the βέβηΰε is about to begin. K M says she always sits this way to go in trance, ever since the episode of the coconut tree. Her place is at the right hand of the priest, so that she can help in the ordering of the ritual. Siloeh Kompiang and Μέιηέη Gentir are on either side of Djero Plasa, 5 making three women on the eastern side, facing three men—Goja, Ketoet Roeroeng, and Boejar. T h e priest is in the center, and at his back the ingengans, supporting trancers, and the singers (four women and four m e n ) . One of the singers is a blind man with a very lovely voice. T h e orchestra plays again. KM has brought a present of incense, Chinese punk sticks. Djero Plasa takes one of

" K M sat squeezed between Djero Plasa and Μέιηέη Gentir, a little to the back of them.

District

8:51

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9:05

these sticks that KM has given her and puts it in her hair. T h e orchestra stops. T h e blind man goes on singing. T h e sadegs are sitting quietly, chatting, and chewing betel. Djero Plasa abruptly tells the priest to get on with it. A clay jar is passed around the circle; all wash their hands in it. Then a drinking vessel with a spout (tjerataw); some wash out their mouths. T h e priest lifts the brazier and begins to pray. T h e men go on chatting. T h e sadegs are sitting quietly, relaxed. Goja and Ketoet Roeroeng keep breaking into talk with each other. T h e people at the back are singing, the men only. T h e priest prays to the gods to come down and to speak. H e offers the water vessels and sprinkles the offerings. T h e priest, and Djero Plasa and I Boejar, on his right and left, take each a leaf-cup of arak, smoke it over the brazier a moment, waft the essence of it northward, and pour out the libation. While the priest continues with the ritual, one of the ingingans, N i Masi, begins to breathe very hard and to look as if she were going to cry. All the engengan women here look sad when they sit and excited when they dance. T h e sadegs are still sitting normally, present, and looking rather bored. Suddenly a woman on the edge of the pavilion (not on the platform with the sadegs) goes in trance. She gives a yell and jumps up and down where she sits, throwing her arms in the air and beating her thighs. Her "fit" lasts only a few seconds. People in the court rush to hold her. T h e sadegs look around to see what is happening, but without much surprise. This is the member of the family who has been entered by the anccstral god, the Dewa Ijang. KM

The Seance

9:06

form. They very effectually cut off any air which might have passed under the eaves of the low roof; the atmosphere is thick with smoke from the braziers. The orchestra plays louder; the singing grows louder as more men join in. The incense is strong and oppressive. The priest has begun the prayers to bring the gods down. He intones, 'Tea, Lord Gods, be pleased to come down, Lords, and to stand (ngadeg) for a litde while, Lord of Kajangan Api, Lord of Tengaan Segara, Lord of Dalem, Lord Agoeng, Lord Ajoe, be pleased to stand just for a moment." He takes leaf-cups and pours libations as he prays. He continues thus, calling out the names of the gods of all the sadegs who are present. When he has done, he begins again, calling all the names of the gods, speaking to them politely, asking them again and again to "be pleased," and to come swifdy. He keeps on pouring libations, one after the other, and praying continuously (9:16-9:32, 16 minutes) until the sadegs go in trance, except for one slight pause to poke up the braziers. The sadegs are now settling down, preparing to go in trance.

says that such seizures are the normal thing at festivals in private house-temples and that one, or often three or four, of the family are entered by the ancestral god. But Djero Plasa turns around in her place and calls out imperiously, "Be quiet, be quiet! Put down a mat first! What do you think you're doing?"—this rather fussily. The woman, Ni Entog, is lifted and carried across the court and placed on a mat before the shrine of the Dewa Ijang. Ten people sit around her. The orchestra begins to play, as the leaf-plates (daoenan) for the symbolic feast are now passed out, one to each

sadeg and ingingan, and one to KM.

9:13

9:16

Each person holds the plate in the air, wafts the essence of it northward, removes from it the two coins, and returns the plate to the basket. There is no eating. The priest lights a cigarette from the brazier. Siloeh Kompiang and Ketoet Roeroeng take leaf-cups and make libations. The offering specialist brings a fresh brazier and sets it before the priest, who is finishing his cigarette. Betel is now passed around to all the sadegs and öngengans. In contrast to the food offerings which they did not eat, they actually do chew the betel. This is the pause before the going into trance. The singers are singing a chant which does not correspond in any way with the music played by the orchestra, neither in scale nor tempo. Theirs is a longdrawn, trailing chant, while the orchestra, consisting chiefly of metallophones, drums, and gongs, plays animated clashing music in fast rhythms. Μέιηέη Gentir calls out to the singers to come nearer. The people in the court crowd up around the edges of the pavilion, joining in with those seated on the plat-

43

9:24

9:26

Djero Plasa seems to shrink into herself. Siloeh Kompiang has closed her eyes. I Boejar is closing his eyes now and breathing hard. He has his arms folded on his breast. Goja closes his eyes. The orchestra plays a last clanging piece (Bat£l) and stops. The singing goes on. Two men have come up behind Goja and Ketoet Roeroeng and stand there singing up at them, with big mouths. The priest stops praying, fiddles with the braziers, puts in a litde incense, and pokes up the fire. Then he begins again, praying and making libations. He has made the libations so often that his gesture of passing the leaf-cup in the smoke

44

9:31 9:32

Intaran of the brazier has become abortive, he comes nowhere near the brazier with it. T h e orchestra begins to play again. Mekeraoehan QGoing in T r a n c e ) . Djero Plasa is the first of the sadegs to go in trance. S h e takes the dance posture with her left hand on her thigh, wrist out—a male dance gesture. H e r right knee quivers. S h e begins to dance with her arms, and with a very deep voice she lets out a long-drawn shout, "A—roh!" S h e dances a few moments (still sitting) and stops.

District is brought, and passed to the priest. ( H e is not, of course, in trance.) H e dresses Djero Plasa himself, in a collar of red and gold and a huge headcloth stiff with gold leaf. T h e offering specialist dresses Siloeh Kompiang. T h e others are attended to by assistants. T h e priest says, "Lords, we offer you a change of clothing. M a y your wishes be pleased." 9:37

T h e orchestra stops. Silence. Djero Plasa adjusts her own headcloth at a more daring angle. S h e reaches for the sash the offering woman is holding and helps her wrap it over the shoulder and under the arm of Siloeh Kompiang. N o w all are dressed. T h e men's jackets have not been put on but merely laid over their shoulders, though their headcloths are rakishly tied on their heads. T h e engengan women are also dressed in headcloths, as well as N i Entog, the member of the family, who is seated still before the shrine of D e w a Ijang. T h e priest has turned to assist in the dressing of I Boejar. During this time Djero Plasa hums, very deep, and sounds a sort of humming laugh—the conventional laugh of male actors, a sign of being pleased, and given with the mouth shut.

9:40

Djero Plasa speaks, addressing one of the sadegs seated opposite her, who is slow in being dressed: "Come, little brother, get dressed. H o w now, little brother, haven't you brought your clothes?"

Siloeh Kompiang goes off at once, making a sour face, squinting u p her eyes and pressing her lips together into a tight line. S h e has a "fit" of violence and has to be held from behind for a few moments. T h e n she is quieter. T h e y release her. ( T h i s sudden spasm is often the only violent manifestation of the whole trance, especially in women.) 9:33

Mem£n Gentir and I Boejar go trance simultaneously. H e begins talk.

in to

Ketoet Roeroeng gives a j u m p in his place, swings his head round and round, swiveling it on his neck very fast, like a loose thing. T h e n he hurls himself backward, where he falls into the arms of the men standing behind him. 9:34

N o w all the sadegs are in trance; they follow each other like firecrackers going off. Djero Plasa turns toward the engengans and gives them some order. T h e n she turns round to where the singers are grouped and, with a lordly gesture of her left hand in the air, utters a command.

9:35

Djero Plasa claps her hands, a sign that the singers are to stop. T h e y don't. T h e priest claps his hands. T h e y stop. Djero Plasa dances a little again, quietly. Pesalin ( T h e Dressing). Λ square basket containing the ceremonial clothes

Ketoet Roeroeng says, " L e t it be finished, now." T h e priest prays, and Djero Plasa hums responses. G M thought it sounded as if she were intoning the classic poetry (kefeaurcn). Priest: N o w , are you ready? Will vou have the cleansing? Djero Plasa: Yea, be pleased, and what is more, be delighted! Ketoet Roeroeng: Be still, be still! ( A n d

The let us talk of more important things). The priest lifts the toilet tray ( pebersihan) and wafts it with a flower. H e calls again the names of all the gods who have descended in the sadegs, "Ratoe Dalem, Ratoe D6sa, Ratoe Kajangan [and so forth], . . ." Siloeh Kompiang: Now, be pleased. So be it. 9:45

( T h e woman N i Entog is brought over to the pavilion to join the sadegs. Both the priest and Djero Plasa subsequendy question her, ask if she has anything to say, but she makes no utterance.) The priest continues with the ritual, lifting a tray of flowers impaled on sticks, handing them out to the sadegs and the ingdngans, who put them in their hair. K M places one in Djero Plasa's hair at the back, Plasa turns around and reprimands her for putting it in the wrong place—but she leaves it. The priest pours another libation. The offering woman brings the poedjawali offering, which he dedicates, saying, 'Tea, Lord Gods, here I offer you the essence of the offering poedjawali, and penjeneng, so that you may now be pleased to descend and speak, all together, the elder with the younger brothers [or sisters]." H e follows this with the dedication and prayers for the tjanang gantal and the tigasan (wardrobe).

9:48

Now a conversation takes place between Djero Plasa, Ketoet Roeroeng, I Boejar, and the priest. As they talk, Ketoet Roeroeng continues to roll his head around but not so violently as before. Djero Plasa speaks very forcefully and clearly, with great expression. She makes gestures with her hand, enforcing her words. She is a great acting personality and makes me think of Sarah Bernhardt. At this time her knees are shaking a very little. Ketoet Roeroeng: Well, Lord Agoeng,

Seance

45 what more? Is there more (to be said), if so, come, pour forth the utterance. Djero Plasa: You are right, Mas Agoeng, I have come. I have come to ask the Great Lord Agoeng to have everything ready, is it not so, little brother? Now it's like this, it's easy. The [god's] subject is ill, and he cannot [give honor] for that reason. May he be able [to give honor] to us, elder brother and younger brothers together. If younger brother is with me, why should he not be able? What is the use of making ill our subjects? His desire is to fulfill his obligations Qmapoepoet) to the Father Agoeng, and also to the elder and younger brothers. Let him alone then; use him no more as a foot wiper. It troubles me in Kajangan. If I'm wrong, be pleased to go on and tell me. (This speech is full of the confusing constructions and omissions customary in trance talk. But to those who are accustomed to the utterances, it is clear that Djero Plasa is discussing the sick man, the member of the family for whom the medicine is to be asked. She is merely bringing up the subject. The idea implied is that the gods, or one of them, is causing the illness, "wiping his feet" on the sufferer. Now if the gods decide to let him go, he is ready to offer them any propitiation they may desire.) The speech was begun in the manner in which Djero Plasa was speaking above, enunciating clearly. In the middle, she went off into a sing-song rigmarole, dragging the syllables and emitting long drawn exclamations. Then, sharply, "I am troubled" (with rising inflection) "in Kajangan" (dropping the voice). The actual words, taken down by the Balinese secretary, do not suggest the effectiveness of her remarkable de-

46

Intaran Ketoet Roeroeng then gave the prescription. Ketoet Roeroeng: H e [the sick man] is called I Sana. May the gods be pleased to discuss it. Mas Ajoe [the medium's own god] verily gives out medicine of all sorts. [Here follows the prescription.] If you can get them, the bones of a jungle fowl, if you can. And with that, raspings of the shoots of white rice, and sulphur. Let not Mas Ajoe be displeased, verily he is the child of the Great Lord of Dalem. This minister of his [refers to the priest] is stupid. Siloeh Kompiang: Well, let it be done with.

9:55

An offering called penawar is now brought, and set down before Ketoet Roeroeng. It contains a small husked coconut, open at the top, with a leafy twig sticking into the opening, and a tjanang (twist of betel and flower). Ketoet Roeroeng is sitting on his knees, leaning forward with his two hands flat on the platform, supporting his body upright on his straight arms. T h e offering is set between his two hands. H e bends forward over it, rolling his head around violendy and talking at the same time. H e mutters a prayer (jttantra) and prescribes further: "Sprinkle him with this, three rimes, and anoint his chest with it." Someone asks again what was said, to be sure the prescription is rightly understood. T h e priest explains, "Whatever may be in this [the coconut], that's what is to be used to anoint his navel and his chest." While Ketoet Roeroeng is still going on, Djero Plasa interrupts him. "Finish!" she says. W h e n he does not, again she orders him to stop. Djero Plasa: Hurry up, slaves. Hurry up. What's the matter with my bearers? Speed it up! ( S h e speaks like a

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10:00

10:01

lady ready to take her departure, as if she were to be carried away in state in a sedan chair.) Ketoet Roeroeng comes out of trance, suddenly and with great violence throwing himself backward once more from the position in which he had been leaning forward on his hands. H e collapses in the arms of the people behind him. Leaning against them, he lifts his hands in the reverence, the sign that h e is himself once more and not the god. At the same time Djero Plasa gives a great shout as she comes out of trance. T h e actions of the two subjects, Djero Plasa and Ketoet Roeroeng, were nearly simultaneous. As she cries out, she claps her hands together and finishes with the reverence. She begins at once to take off her ceremonial clothes. Ketoet Roeroeng leans forward again and rolls his face over the brazier; then he sits u p and makes the reverence once more. T h e other sadegs are now all coming out, at the same time. Djero Plasa encourages them, saying, 'Tes, quickly." T h e y all begin to take off their ceremonial clothes. W h e n they have got them off, each pours a libation and makes a final reverence. T h e sadegs sit quietly chatting. Μέπιέη Gentir and the engdngans get down from the pavilion and go into the outer court to start the dancing. Mem£n Gentir takes the brazier and leads off. Behind her comes N i Masi, who begins at once to dance wildly. She is a skinny, gaunt creature, and the lines of her figure are accentuated because she wears a tight jacket with a high collar like a man's, and her skirt wrapped tightly round her angular legs. W h e n the first turn is over, she takes the lead with the brazier and is dancing with such abandon that her hair has come down. She bends and writhes from the waist, and

The

Initiation of a New

47

gegaloeh puppets, then the seance, then more dancing. The chief difference was that Djero Plasa, perhaps tired from the previous night's performance, showed herself extremely temperamental, crotchety, and hard to please. Hardly a detail of the ritual passed that she had not some objection to make. She fussed and fumed, and managed to keep herself still more in the limelight than usual. And with all this, she remained by far the most imposing figure of the group, and no one seemed to mind in the least her imperious, quarrelsome behavior.

in her eyes is a tense and fiery look. When we take our leave, the sadegs are still sitting on the pavilion. KM says that Ketoet Roeroeng is not usually the one who prescribes the medicine at the sdances, that it is more apt to be Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar or Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, neither of whom were present this night. These trance ceremonials were very strongly patterned. The following night, we witnessed an almost identical ceremonial in the household temple of another family. All the formal details were the same—the same offerings, the same priest, the same order of dancing with the

SYNOPSIS

Sadeg

In order to stress the likeness in the patterning of the sdances, I shall set here side by side the timings of the trance part of the two ceremonials.

OF T I M E S :

INTARAN

September

1

September

1 hr. 20 min.

Whole sitting Sadegs take their place on the pavilion

8:40

Opening ritual, through the "feast," until

9:13

Priest begins to pray, and continues until sadegs go in trance at

9:32

Dressing and ritual preceding the talk, until

9:48

The talk, until sadegs come out of trance

10:01

Sadegs in trance

1 hr. 11 min. 6:57

P.M.

33 min. 19 min. 16 min. 13 min. 29 min.

2

7:30 7:40

8:02 8:08

P.M.

33 min. 10 min. 22 min. 6 min. 28 min.

THE INITIATION OF Α NEW SADEG, ROENOEH, SADEG FOR THE POERA AGOENG [Account by KM]

narr0Wj

Roenoeh is a player in the orchestra of the village of Danginpeken. He is about forty-five, his face the long type with a straight nose and

came to see me some months ago with bad eyes, They were red but not swollen. He came two or three times, but, as he was not cured, he stopped

deepset

eyes

( F i g s . 18 and 19). He

48

Intaran

coming. From me he went to a balian, Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar, for medicine. H e was given medicine and a talking to by Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, and went home, where he went into trance. T h e next day he decided to go to consult a priest about the meaning of this trance. At the house of the priest he again went into trance. According to the witnesses he began to shiver and shake and lost consciousness. This was on a Wednesday. Thursday he went into trance four times at the house of a friend, Tanggoen, who is a lesser sadeg. After this he felt very certain that the gods were calling him. On Friday he again went into trance twice, once during the day and once at night, and again on Saturday. On Sunday night a group of his friends took him to the temple Poera Agoeng in order to ask for a sign from the gods to determine if this was indeed the entering by a spirit. That night Roenoeh did not go into trance, and the matter was not clarified. And so the following night they called all the sadegs of the district together at the temple. Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar and Djero Plasa officiated. Roenoeh's brother said that it was imperative that these two take charge of the affair, otherwise they could not find out what had taken possession of Roenoeh. Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar acted as priest. Djero Plasa talked to the god when he arrived (in the person of the entranced) and by her clever questioning was able to determine that it really was a god who had entered him. This god appeared to be the one which dwells in the shrine of Batoer ( a mountain) in the temple Poera Agoeng. T h e brother said he would have asked me to come but that Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar had told him not to let anyone know, for it might anger the god that was trying to come to them. And also, it was not yet sure what god it was, or if it was a god, until the sadegs had made it clear. I said that I had heard that lots of people came, but they insisted that they were all members of the immediate family. At his seance Roenoeh himself became violently entranced, and both Anak Agoeng Mad£

District Bandjar and Djero Plasa also spoke in trance giving out the necessary information. It was learned that offerings must be made at the temple Poera Agoeng and that Roenoeh had to remain there in the temple all the time until the ceremony was over. H e was placed in a small enclosed building to the west of the courtyard. At night several people had to stay with him there—his wife, his friend Tanggoen, and some of the lesser sadegs. Day and night he ate and slept inside this place. H e was dressed in white, and there were white curtains hung all about the bed and white cloth hanging from the shrine over his head where offerings were placed every day. H e lay upon a mattress, and his friends kept hold of him (we suppose as a related idea to the way friends and relations hold on to a dead body). H e spent most of his time sleeping or losing consciousness, in a state of semitrance. T h e women, the wives of the players in the orchestra to which he belonged, made the offerings, and for four days the temple was in a state of excitement while the offerings were being prepared. On the eighth day everything was ready. At half past four in the afternoon they had the ceremony called mesakapan (the same term as is used for weddings) for him, in preparation for the official entrance of the god at night. Just before the ceremony began I went to the pavilion where they were keeping Roenoeh. H e looked very pale and almost white, and his eyes had a most extraordinary expression. T h e muscles of his face, eyes, neck, and partway down the torso were contracted in an involuntary tic that begins just before he goes into trance. H e was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and the sadegs who were surrounding him moved aside so that I could sit down near him. H e did not smile as I sat down but his eyes lighted u p and for a few moments lost the dead look that afterward came into them. I asked him how he felt and he said, "Very tired." H e certainly looked exhausted. I asked him if he could sleep and he said, 'Tes." I asked him if he could eat, and he replied, "A little." I asked him about the offer-

The

Initiation of a New

ings over his head, and the sadegs all began to talk at once about them. He dropped his eyelids as though he were terribly bored or as though he were about to slip off again. He let his head hang to one side, and the mouth dropped open. T h e head seemed to be completely relaxed and as if it were empty. ( T h i s is idiosyncratic behavior which we have afterwards seen him repeat anv time he was in trance.) As his head began to droop, he looked out from under his eyelids in what I would have called, under other circumstances, a scrutinizing, almost a foxy manner. T h e tic appeared in his right eyebrow, and then the contractions of his neck muscles began. All the people spoke to him and said, ' W a i t , wait a little. Only a little while longer." They referred to the offerings which should be properly arranged before he went into trance. He straightened up and said in a very weak but impressive voice to me that it was "very very hard when the god was so near." I left him then so that they could dress him for the ceremonial. In perhaps twenty minutes he was led out from the building dressed in a white loincloth, over-scarf and headcloth; three men were sup]>orting him. In the center of the courtyard they had placed a rice-pounding mortar turned upside down. T h e y seated Roenoeh on this and arranged his hands, arms stretched out, palms turned up, in the ritual posture for receiving blessings. T h e priest Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar began to chant. I watched Roenoeh carefully as he seemed to me to be about to go in trance immediately. During the purification, as they smeared his hands with bits from the offerings, his body began to shake and his muscles to twitch, especially those of the neck and chest. Then he began to cry, and the tears to stream down his facc. Not onlv the three men who had led him out but many others now crowded around to support him, all kneeling. H e swayed f rom side to side, and the muscles of his neck were pulled taut and stood out like great ropes. His head fell over to the left side. They continued with the ceremonv dedicating the offerings, and he was given holy water poured through a sieve. T h e priest said to him, "Now,

Sadeg

49

now, you mustn't do it now. As soon as it is dark you may." They were trying to keep him from going in trance until the appointed time. At this Roenoeh stopped crying but continued to twitch. Finally, when the incense brazier was put in front of him to smoke him, he put both his hands over the fire, palms down, and held them there. Then in a few seconds he reached out to pick up the red hot coals in his hands. T h e man near him tried to keep him from doing this. T h e attendants did not take the coals in their own hands but guided his hands away from the brazier and opened the fingers. T h e bamboo tubes being heated over a fire now went off with a loud bang, and the people commented that the god had arrived. T h e y ran to set off in front of the temple the bunch of firecrackers which I had brought as a gift. T h e ritual was completed, and Roenoeh was led back to the enclosed building. I followed to see what condition he was in. They got him inside all right, but as soon as he reached the bed he collapsed and had to be lifted up and stretched upon it. He lay there limp and apparently exhausted or half conscious. T h e y pulled the white curtains and then crouched down around the bed but not on it. There was a pause then until about seven o'clock. Then the sadegs began to arrive one by one with their offerings, which they presented in front of the main shrine. There was Siloeh Kompiang, Μέπιέη Gentir, Goja, Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, Doeg Doeg, and five or six engingan women. Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar was staying near to Roenoeh and was eating his share of the feast there. Djero Plasa was not at the temple in the afternoon, nor did she arrive that night until all the sadegs were in place. After they had waited ten minutes or so a delegation was sent out for her, and they came back leading her to the temple in state. I went out to meet her with a flashlight. She was dressed in her black coat decorated with gold leaf and was being held and supported as she walked up the road, for she had gone into trance on the way. She leaned on me and talked high language. W h e n we reached the temple, she called me Ratoene Ajoe (the god of the Barong, the

50

Intaran

dragon) and told me to enter first. I replied, "You, Lord, go first." Whereupon she walked to the gate and made a dramatic entrance, dancing her way into the temple. Mem£n Gentir came forward to meet her and led her with great dignity to the pavilion where the sadegs sat. The whole courtyard turned to watch her. She made an entrance that any dramatic actress might be proud of. When she had sat down in her place, she took a look at the arrangement of the offerings and the position in which the people were sitting and ordered a few rearrangements. When all were setded in their places, and the offerings arranged in front of the priest, Roenoeh was led out of the little building accompanied by many people. He was placed between Djero Plasa and the priest from Sakenan; beside him sat three of his friends to support him. All around the sides of the pavilion crowded many people singing loudly, while the orchestra played, as loud as it could, another melody in another key. T h e crowd and the enthusiasm was greater than any I had seen in a temple ritual for the past five years. The singers stood behind the principal sadegs and leaned forward pressing against them as they chanted. People crowded into spaces that they could not stand on, then fell back. The pulling and pushing to be able to see was terrific, and, if we had not been well ensconced on the main floor of the building, we would not have been able to see anything. In front of Roenoeh was placed a large offering tray and on it a brazier. This was so well covered with incense that the smoke rose up thickly, almost obscuring him from view. His friends Soeda and Tanggoen pressed close to him. Roenoeh's face was like a corpse, the strangest yellow color and as vacant as one dead. He leaned forward slightly over the fire until he began to approach the trance state. Then he shoved forward, pushing the whole offering tray with him. He laid his arms in a very relaxed and graceful position over the offering tray and with his eyes half closed seemed to be scanning the faces of the people. He "looked" all around him, and then began the tic of his eyebrows and chest muscles. Suddenly he made the most awful face,

District his lips drawn up to show all his teeth, as though he were gritting his teeth to stand pain, and the muscles of his neck stood out again like great sinews. He began to shiver. Then the men singing all banded together opposite him and directed their song toward him. The priest could hardly be seen for the smoke, and not one sound of the prayer could be heard over the singing. Djero Plasa and Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar kept their eyes fixed upon Roenoeh. Suddenly Tanggoen went into a trance and fell forward with his arms clasped around the waist of Roenoeh, crying and shaking. Roenoeh tightened a bit (it seemed to me as though holding something off) and kept looking around him in the same strange way with his eyes closed. It was like a blind man trying to see. In one more moment Soeda went into trance and fell forward on Roenoeh's knee. He wallowed in his trance, crying so hard that tears ran down his cheeks and off the end of his nose. He kept thrusting his face in under Roenoeh's left arm, talking and screaming words that no one could hear in the din. The singing kept up, and many people standing on the side, who had only been watching, now began to sing. The place was so crowded by now, and everyone so excited that the pushing and crowding was very uncomfortable. More incense was placed before Roenoeh. Soeda kept on screaming, and Tanggoen kept on shaking. Roenoeh had the strangest sort of calm. He kept pulling himself in as if he were trying to suck his stomach muscles up into his chest. Then he would cross his arms again over the offering tray. Then very slowly one hand would slip up or he would slowly slide it over the incense brazier. Several times the contraction of the face, as though he were in great pain, was repeated. Finally he got the real jitters, and all his muscles twitched. He closed his eyes so tightly that tears squeezed out. He began to gasp, and all the people around him sang or exclaimed more loudly than ever. Then with several guttural cries he collapsed. By this time the other sadegs were approaching trance. Goja and Doeg Doeg went in, then

The

Initiation of a New Sadeg

Siloeh Kompiang, Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, and Djero Plasa. Then everyone concentrated on Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar. Djero Plasa watched Roenoeh and told them not to let his head fall back that way. Two new assistants who had come up behind him straightened his head, but it seemed to hurt him as they did so, for he moved it very slowly, and choked a bit, and then let it fall back to the left side again, in the same "dead" way. Djero Plasa now spent all her time on Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar, dancing with her hands before him and putting more incense on the fire. Soeda, crying loudly, got up, broke through the ranks of people outside, and came over to where I was sitting near Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar. He crawled up on the platform there, threw his arms around Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar's waist, and wallowed in tears again. Djero Plasa did not seem to like this very much, and pleaded with the gods to "come." The έηξέηξαη women were going into trance one after the other, and the singers had all shifted to a position in back of Anak Agoeng Madέ Bandjar to bring him into trance. Siloeh Kompiang was crying and shaking as in her initial seizure, although she had been in trance for some time. Roenoeh stayed just as he was. Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar began to lean forward, and the sweat poured out from his neck where the tendons were standing out, though not as strongly as Roenoeh's. Djero Plasa kept calling the gods and putting incense on the fire. At last Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar went in trance. T h e orchestra and the singing stopped. Silence. T h e contrast with the noise that had been going on was so great that anyone who spoke did so in a whisper. The temple was as near dead quiet as it could be. T h e priests worked on the offerings, and the ceremonial clothes were brought to dress the gods in. Two priests dressed Roenoeh in white. When they moved him, he stayed in the position in which they placed him until they moved him again. If they pulled his head to one side to tie the headcloth, it stayed there until someone straightened it. Djero Plasa was given the clothing to sort

51

out, that is, the basket containing the clothes for Siloeh Kompiang. She laid them all out on her lap, said they were not hers, and passed them back. Siloeh Kompiang now began to cry because no one would dress the Ratoe D£sa (the god she impersonates). People called to the man nearest her to dress the Ratoe D£sa, and they finally got it done. She continued to whimper like a child. Djero Plasa dressed Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar. Then her own regalia was brought, and, as she dressed herself, she talked all the time, lovely high-flown trance language which made everyone I could see smile with pleasure. I do not think for one moment that she was in trance. According to her own statement she "goes in and out of trance," and so it seemed on this occasion. There were times when she seemed definitely to be in trance, and there were other times when, as she was ordering and arranging the ritual, it seemed as if she were in her normal personality. But she remained in an exalted state, and every gesture of hers carried great authority. Everyone present seemed to accept it as the expression of the god's presence. Now the offerings were presented and the gods were asked to talk. Roenoeh said himself, in his trance, that in three days' time they must "complete" the ceremony for him. Then all the sadegs began to ask questions, Plasa again leading. She talked chiefly to Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, who also did a lot of questioning. Through him it was learned that in three days they must make offerings at the bale agoeng (a ceremonial house to which the entire district owes allegiance). Also that Roenoeh was to sleep in the temple for forty-two days. At the close of the forty-two days more offerings were to be made at the temple, and then he would be free to go home. On the third day Roenoeh again went into trance prematurely, in fact so early that the whole order of the ritual was upset. T h e offerings, already prepared, they had not had time to set out and dedicate in proper form. When I went to the temple it was all over, the people were doing the closing mendAt dance. I was very

52

lntaran

angry that I had not been called, as they had borrowed our lamps, money for the offerings, firecrackers, and so forth. I asked Rana, leader of the orchestra group, what it meant, why I had not been called. He begged my pardon and said, "It went wrong," words which might be interpreted either as an apology or as a reference to the upset order of the ritual. I turned and went home. After about half an hour Rana appeared at the house accompanied by Djero Plasa, Mem^n Gentir, Siloeh Kompiang, all looking as though they were about to be hanged. I was furious at Rana for making the old woman walk that long way in the night, but in conversation it turned out that it had been her idea to come to me, for Rana "was not brave enough." She and Mem£n Gentir tried to console me in my wrath by telling me that they had all intended to send for me, but that Roenoeh had just "mekeraoehan" (gone in trance) before they had got the offerings ready for him. They all seemed somewhat peeved, just as I was, and their idea seemed to be that when you go to a lot of trouble to prepare for someone to go in trance, then that person should have the grace to wait until the show was ready. After much talking I went back to the temple with them. T h e orchestra was playing, and benches had been arranged for all the other sadegs who were seated outside, and only Roenoeh remained inside the temple with some attendants. I found him lying down and seemingly pretty well exhausted. He turned and looked at me and nodded but did not speak. Later the officiating priest, Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar, confirmed the statement of the others, that Roenoeh had gone into trance before everything was ready. During the rest of the forty-two dav period Roenoeh continued to live in the temple. He was

VILLAGE

District required to sleep and to eat there, but during the dav he might walk about the villages. He grew a slight beard, several straggly white hairs hanging from his chin, and allowed his hair to grow long, so that it fell around his face unless tied up in his headcloth. These were marks of his new status as an initiated γβτβΙιοείΗ. He was also to have a new coat decorated with gold leaf, for the occasion of the first temple festival following his initiation, which fell on September 22, eighteen days after the end of his sojourn in the temple. This would be his first appearance as a full-fledged member of the group of sadegs. When the festival came off, Roenoeh took his place with the other sadegs. Djero Plasa went into trance first, followed quickly by Roenoeh, Siloeh Kompiang, Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, and Doeg Doeg. Roenoeh had all the same sort of twitching of neck muscles described before, held his hands on the fire, and generally made the awful faces of pain that were characteristic of his first trance performances. This pained, writhing, and twitching pattern seems to be the one he will continue to follow. Nothing of importance was said, no warnings nor prescriptions for offerings and medicine were uttered, there was only gods' conversation. Roenoeh, in trance, addressed most of his remarks to Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami. After the conversation all the sadegs came out of trance, each in his particular manner. Roenoeh did his part perfectly in accord with the group, and to watch him one would have said that it was the hundredth time that he had officiated as one of the representatives of the gods at the formal temple festival instead of his first appearance in this capacity. T h e time elapsed from his first spontaneous trance, July 14, to this occasion, September 22, was a little under two and a half months. [End of KM's account]

O F S / N D O E — T H E BABY

Within the precincts of the lntaran district was a village group which did not function as a part

DJANGER

GOES

IN

TRANCE

of the organization banded together in a single bale agoeng but as a separate and independent

The

Baby Djanger Goes in

unit. It had no single medium recognized as the representative of the god of the temple who attended the festivals of temples in neighboring wards. The people of this ward, Sindoe, did not participate in the festivals of their neighbors. On the other hand, they claimed that all the members of this village group, down to the smallest children, could and had entered into trance. Sindoe had two temples of its own, famous for the aura of supernatural power which hung over them. One was set upon that treacherously dangerous rim of the world, the very edge of the sea, and the other in the shadow of the great waringin tree which stands at the crossroads, haunt of awesome personages. Each of the temples had as priest (pewangfeoe), a very old man who officiated in dedicating the offerings and ordering the ritual in his own temple. Both of these old men were strong trancers, long established in their roles as spokesmen of the gods. Each old man attended the festivals in the temple of the other, and, it seemed to us, would let himself go in a more pronounced exhibition of trance abandon when he was in the other's temple, that is, when he was not responsible for the order of the ritual. The ceremonial included a feast and a conversation of the gods when they arrived, which resembled the practice of the Intaran group of sadegs, but with this difference: there was not the formally ordered sitting arranged for godly representatives from other villages; anyone in Sindoe was liable to go in trance, and if he did, he would be duly honored as a member of the conclave of the gods. Wound into the beliefs of the people of Sindoe were a whole series of legends and fantasies concerning the ways of being of their particular gods, partly traditional, partly arising from trance visions and utterances by which the people had kept adding to and elaborating the tradition. They had, for instance, the Goddess Poelaki, a well-known figure of Balinese legendary history. She was followed, in Sindoe, by her three faithful servitors, the three Tigers, the Black one, the Yellow one, the Striped one. She had also a graceful retinue of 'little gods," six male, six female, which bear the names of

Trance

53

flowers. These have been given visible form as twelve litde dolls, known as the sanghyang boengboeng, which played an important part in the ritual of the temples. The spirits of these litde gods were thought to "sit" either in the dolls or in the bodies of those who went in trance. The temples of Sindoe were the scene of formidable trance explosions, cast as impersonations of these personages. The Goddess Poelaki would descend, followed by her three Tigers and her twelve "flowers." One priest would bite at the edge of the brazier of hot coals, the red glow would illumine his face, casting the cheekbones into relief, so that he resembled a staring death's head. He was the embodiment of the god of the Death Temple. The other priest would become the fearsome Goddess Poelaki, shout out her dread commands, and her Tiger servitors would enter into the bodies of men who crawled upon all fours and preyed upon the offerings, falling upon them and snatching them animal-like in their mouths. Young girls and women would shriek and writhe in a frenzy, taken by the spirits of the "flowers." On a night in April, 1940, a group of the smallest children, participating in the ritual, suddenly were carried away in the abandoned motions of the trance, and with wild high-pitched screams they hurled their bodies about until they fell unconscious to the ground. They were lifted up, their bodies limp and senseless, to be set down in reverence before the main shrine of the gods. The story of the events which preceded this climax in the trance life of the village was a story of cultural adaptation, a story of the way in which influences from the changing world could producc secular forms shaped to the pattern of Balinese life so closely that they could, in time, be inducted into the very ceremonial of the traditional temples. It is the opposite case from that which we are apt to expect and to deplore, when, with the advent of foreign visitors whose pocketbooks are heavy, the ceremonial dances and rites of a people are secularized, cheapened, and robbed of their meaning to become a "tourist show." Such an

54

Intaran

instance of adaptation revealed a strength in the Balinese scheme of things which accounted in great part for its survival under changing influences. In a system apparently rigid and fixed, we discovered a surprising flexibility, a capacity for the transposition of the social patterns from the old traditionally fixed forms into newer forms structurally like them, adapted to the changed conditions. These new forms fitted themselves into the Balinese scheme because of their structural likeness to the old. The adaptation was painless, even revivifying to the existing system (for it brought fresh interest and excitement to their life); the framework of the social scheme was not shaken; the traditional architecture of their world had a new face but went on standing. In the previous one hundred years the social order had undergone drastic change. The faith in the basic relationship between gods and men was unaltered. Moreover, the hierarchical arrangement of the relationships between man and man had had to be transposed. Conquest by Europeans and the instatement of Dutch authority over the head of the top caste of the four existing Hindu castes had become accepted as the addition of still another caste, with its own language, manners, dress, temper, and desires. Not surprising, no, for had not the four Hindu castes had each their special ways? The position of men in the hierarchy shifted; hierarchy itself remained. The village of Sindoe came into being as a grant of land given to a Brahmana High Priest from the eastern district of Karang Asem by the ruling king of Badoeng, the south central district, three generations ago. The High Priest moved to his new lands bringing with him (or he had allotted to him) a number of low-caste retainers who were to cultivate the lands and attend to the needs of his household. The son of this High Priest was educated in the Brahmana lore and, in time, ordained. At his father's death he took over the function of High Priest and became master of the little group around him. His son again became High Priest, so that foi three generations the village was held together

District under the dominance of the priesdy family. The widow of the third High Priest of the line, the grandson of the founder, was alive at the time this study was made. She lived in the courts of the family, a gracious and imposing figure still held in great respect despite her advanced age and infirmity. Of her three sons not one cared to carry on the family tradition and study to be ordained for the priesthood, they preferred to lead the softer easier life of dabbling in the arts, playing musical instruments and making carvings on wood, and mingling with their fellow villagers of low caste in gambling and drinking parties by the roadside, to the detriment of their power and prestige in the community. At some time during the course of the village's history lands must have been distributed to the peasants, for each owned his house-court and, if he had not suffered misfortune, some rice fields. With the growth of the nearby town of Den Pasar and the establishment of the port of Sanoer adjoining the village, opportunities had arisen for the more up-and-coming of the villagers to grow richer by trading coconuts and pigs, and so one found among the low-caste families a marked variation in wealth. Some of these had even contracted marriage alliances with the Chinese traders and, with the capital so made available, became the possessors of horse and cart or a Singer sewing machine—the equipment needed to set up a transit service or a thriving tailor shop for the making of the shirts, pyjama jackets, and women's blouses which had come into style for festive wear. As the power and financial supremacy of the High Priest's family had diminished, the burden of responsibility for providing the offerings at the temple festivals had shifted onto the wealthier members of the low-caste villagers. Now the Brahmana family, which in former times had provided the chief support of the temples built by the founder, had to depend upon important contributions from the descendants of his former retainers. The members of the Brahmana family had taken many concubines from among the low-caste families, and the children of these unions had again made marriage alliances with

The Baby Djanger Goes in the prosperous people of low caste who had intermarried with the Chinese. The whole social fabric had become one of great complexity through the loss of caste of children, who nonetheless retained the ties of family with the former ruling house, and of impoverished nobility who were enabled to improve their financial status through aid from their low-caste connections. Far from breaking down the loyalties of the group, this interchange knit the village into a close unit. Upon this background a further change was imposed when an American couple, KM and her husband, selected a strip of land belonging to this village on which to build a house and set up an establishment adapted to American ways. The land they chose was to the Balinese in a most undesirable location, facing the sea, exposed to the treacherous emanations of ill health and the malevolent influences of which it was the source. What is more, the site adjoined the dread temple Poera Patal, on whose every shrine stood great glaring-eyed heads cut from coral stone so fearsome that they struck terror to the heart, and where the supernatural manifestations were known to be so powerful that lonely villagers would never have dared to wander there. But when the house was built and decorated with the most artful products of Balinese craftsmanship, when the wells had been dug, the dry land watered till the garden flowered in unheard-of blossoms, when each building had been duly blessed and sanctified according to Balinese rites, when the household with its retinue of well-paid, well-fed cheerful servitors prospered, when in and out of the gates flowed a stream of Balinese visitors from near and far to ask for the medicine they knew was freely given there and again with gifts in grateful return for aid received, or to invite and ask the cooperation of the American Toean and Njonjah for a coming festival, the household became an accepted and integral part of the community. Slowly the strangers' household and the village adapted to each other's ways. T h e exchange of courtesies and the good manners in which the Balinese were never lacking carried over what might have

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seemed an intruding element into a high place in the life of the village. Patterning their relationship to the new big house on that which had always been theirs in regard to the palace of the Brahmana family, the peasants slipped into an attitude of respectful intimacy, feeling free to ask favors and, in return, ready to serve their more prosperous neighbors and to include them in the religious and social life of the village. Relations with the Brahmana family were also of the most cordial. The old lady, widow of the last High Priest, would drift in to pluck a flower for her hair or to wheedle a drop of KM's perfume. The sons would come in of an evening for a bit of gossip, the little grandson, whose title is Ida Bagoes Alit, would run in and out of the Americans' garden, a welcome visitor, with his troop of playmates. Rekoen, the man who became a tiger in the temple festivals, was so often about the house that his dog became adopted and henceforward had to be shared between the house of the Americans and that of the Tigerman. This man, a simple-minded fellow (so subnormal in intelligence that he would without doubt in our society have become a public charge), the lowliest and the poorest of the village, was just as much, but no more, at home in the house of the Americans than the family of his former masters. One day during the summer of 1937 a group of the children, five to eight years old, were sitting about the verandah. KM was entertaining them by playing the phonograph. They asked for the record of the Djanger, the Balinese young people's dance in which the boys and girls sit facing each other in a square and sing in chorus to accompany their gestures. The record could not be found. "Oh, be a Djangir yourselves!" KM exclaimed. The children formed themselves in lines and began to play. From this beginning sprang the baby Djanger which became an institution in the village. T h e group of a dozen children added to its ranks until there were twenty-five, with a leader in the person of the litde grandson of the Brahmana family, Ida Bagoes Alit, aged six. Costumes were provided by KM. The old lady, widow of the High Priest,

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became honorary Elder (Keli/ujw) of the company, always present at its rehearsals and performances. The Tiger-man Rekoen joined himself to them as a sort of mascot and protector. Former Djanger companies in the village had had a Tiger banner as their emblem. This group also needed a Tiger banner, but until it could be ready, the Tiger-man himself would lead the procession. Roni, the village's best dancer and leader of the young women who fell into trance with the doll-gods (sanghyang boengboeng), together with KM's Balinese boy Moerda, taught the children a full repertoire of songs. Fathers and grandfathers brought their instruments to make up the necessary percussion orchestra. To the group were attracted two round-bellied babies of three, so small and plump that their little dancing sarongs would not stay on them, but kept sliding off to leave them in their more accustomed state of nakedness. These two star dancers became the drawing card of the show. By the middle of September the baby Djanger had several times been invited to play at KM's house for foreign visitors. It was always an uproarious occasion, thoroughly enjoyed both by the Western guests and by the villagers. Parents and grandparents sat in an outer circle screaming with laughter if one of the little boys fell from the top of the pyramid they formed by climbing on each others' shoulders, or if the tiny child of the Brahmana caste, called by her title Dajoe and the affectionate epithet Big Belly, stopped her dancing in dismay as her skirt fell off. Meanwhile the more formal events of the village's ceremonial life were taking their course. On September 20 was celebrated the temple festival at the Poera Patal next door. Very strong trances took place, and the Goddess Poelaki descended into the body of the priest and gave the order that the doll-gods, sanghyang boengboeng, should be taken out from their place of safekeeping in the courts of the Brahmana family, set up in the temple at the crossroads, "danced," and given offerings at every dark moon and every full moon for the six months to come. According to the trance utterance, a period of illness and misfortune would befall

District the village unless these instructions were followed, for the "gerings" (evil spirits) were coming from across the sea to attack them. On this night, while the ritual of the temple was going on, the tiny three-year-old VVajan, daughter of a low-caste trance medium, danced alone in the center of the court; again and again as the music took up a new theme she danced out into the central space weaving her little arms to and fro in the traditional motions, unaware of all except her shadow on the floor of the court. The people whispered that there must be a god in her, else how could she dance, being so small? This was between the hours of one and two in the morning. It was a memorable night, for it had begun with a trance seizure of the woman Renting (who very often was the spokesman for the gods' desires) at the very beginning of the festival, when the gods' images were being carried in procession and had not yet even been received at the temple. Following on into the night came the dancing with offerings. Again Renting went into strong trance, and Rekoen the Tiger-man became entranced again and again, prowling here and there, crawling on all fours, falling upon and devouring the offerings. The priest of the Poera Patal, the site of the festival, gave utterance to the prophecy of the chief Goddess. Many men and women followed, and at last the Wittfh figure, Rangda, was taken down, the mask placed upon the entranced carrier I Loembang. Shouting and making fearsome sounds, the Witch called out a challenge: who dared to accompany her to the edge of the beach? Rekoen, the Tiger-man was the only one who answered. Heartened by his courage, the other people in attendance, albeit reluctantly, followed the Witch out of the temple to the shrine of Men Gobleh, where the "control" spirit (tafesoe) of this mask is said to reside.® ' T h i s W i t c h mask belonged in the neighboring village of T a m a n but was affiliated with the village of Sindoe and always was present at the Sindoe temple festivals. A shrine to Men CoblSh stood before the main shrine at the house where the mask was kept. But the supernatural power and strength of the mask were attributed to the connection with this shrine outside the gates of the temple Poera Patal, and on the edge of the beach.

The

Baby Djanger

Here was enacted one of the most intensely dramatic scenes we have ever witnessed. The following is from KM's notes of the occasion: The man I Loembang, placed in the Rangda mask, was very violent in his trance. Though the mask is heavy, and it is difficult to see through it, he danced a great deal with a mincing step, waving his magical white cloth. Rekoen, who can play many trance roles in one night, was not any longer the tiger, but followed close upon the Rangda talking much, acting more like a guardian or guide to the Witch. The Rangda danced first in the court of the Brahmanas, then passed southward into the low-caste section of the temple where she performed a bit, and from there straight out the main door to the south. In front of this door a mat was spread on the ground and quickly offerings were made. They were the regular ground offerings (t/aroe). Rangda stood to the west of the mat, facing the sea to the east. This was one of the most dramatic scenes one can hope to see: the weird figure of the Witch with the flowing white mane and bulging eyes facing the sea which by this time caught the first lifting of the darkness in the sky, not yet light by any means but a paler hue It was this mask with its accompanying set which played at the "kris-dance" performances when they occurred in Sindoe. On such occasions Rekoen the Tiger-man and Lemoen, the man who would stab himself in the cheek, were faithful followers and would go into violent trances. But when the W i t c h played in the village of T a m a n these men from Sindoe did not attend. T h e people of Sindoe did not as a rule participate in the festivals and rites of the surrounding villages. Their own two temples, Poera Patal and Poera Dalem, fulfilled all their needs. Quite a number of the people from adjoining T a m a n , however, would take part in the festivals in these temples. Λ possible ground for this connection was that the old Pedanda Istri, widow of the last High Priest of the Sindoe Brahmana familv, herself came from a Brahmana family of Taman. It is possible that in the past the people of low caste who considered themselves her followers attended the festivals of the village into which she had married, and so the tradition was set up whereby their descendants would still honor these temples. An alternative explanation would be that former residents of Sindoe had moved or married into Taman, retaining their connection with the temples of their old village while joining with their fellows in the adopted village, giving allegiance to their temples as well.

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than the night sky to the west; the people placing the offerings on the ground, remaining in a crouching position before her as she pranced. The outer court of the temple, like the rest of the Poera Patal, is made of coral rock and during the hundred years of its standing by the sea has turned black in color. The walls are two feet thick in places and made a sinister background at night, especially if a Witch is prancing and screaming in the dark enclosure. The eastern gate rises to a height of nine feet and is four or five feet wide, a looming black mass. As we stood in back of Rangda she was silhouetted against the eastern sky, her lumbering figure enhanced by the eeriness of the faint light and made more magical in feeling by her continued calling upon the spirits of evil to come to her. "Lejak, lejak Μέη Gobl£h, come here!" she shouted at the night sky with upraised arms and guttural noises interspersing the words. As she stomped out towards the gate, Rekoen was close behind her, shouting "Who is brave enough to invite Men Gobl£h to come here?" Everyone remained absolutely quiet while the eeriness of the whole scene made people crowd close together and huddle at the back, leaving Rangda and Rekoen well out towards the sea by now. Her arms were flung high over her head, the white cloth was waved to and fro, and she laughed the witches' laugh defiantly into the graying sky. Rekoen was now close beside her and called, "If no one is brave enough, then I will invite her to come." With this he threw his arms over his head and called loudly, "Lejak, lejak of Sindoe, lejak of Taman, scramble and search for Men Gobleh, to come, so that we know her power is present. Scramble and come, come in and challenge Men Gobleh just once; even I Rekoen, come challenge and attack him!" With this the Rangda gave the most prolonged and devilish laugh and flung herself against the shrine made to Men Gobl£h. The shrine is of coral and stands six feet high with two evil-looking faces of coral in the little seat at the top. It faces the sea. Rangda flung herself with her back to the shrine, leaning against it with arms stretched back over the sides; and,

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with her head thrown back so that the mask rested just in front of the two evil-looking heads, she proceeded to call the lijaks, screaming, laughing hysterically, and at the same time scratching her back in evil glee against the rough coral stones. Rekoen was in front of her and to one side. Together they implored the lejaks to come down and have at them. All the people stood back at a very respectful distance. At last, to bring the dread performance to an end, Rekoen asked Μέη Gobl£h in the person of the Rangda what she wished for a gift. She asked for arak. The ceremony had gone on so long that all the arak provided had been exhausted. But Μέη Gobleh insisted that she must have strong liquor. All waited while someone was sent to bring a fresh bottle from one of the houses. When it came, Rekoen poured it generously into the mouth of the gaping Rangda mask, while the Rangda continued to sway and to rub her chest. Rekoen then swallowed his share and, taking hold of the Rangda, led her against her will back into the temple. The people followed stiffly. [End of KM's notes]

The ceremonial continued inside the temple with more dancing with offerings, brought to a shrine set upon four young frangipani trees, "for the visitors," "to the outside world (djawa)." It is possible that the whole thread of the night's ritual was tied up in this offering of a few flowers to a simple bamboo frame set in growing trees. For the priest of the temple had announced, speaking with the voice of the chief Goddess Poelaki, that the people should "bring out the little gods [dewa alit, another name for the sanghyang boengboeng or doll-gods] and make food for them thus, rice and meat, and all preparations so that the little gods may stay out in the temple . . . because there are visitors who want to come from Noesa [across the sea] and the name of the [chief] visitor is Djero Gede [demonic bringer of plague]. If it is not sufficient [the preparations] as I tell you, and there is not enough offered, if the command to keep

District the litde gods in the temple is not obeyed, then calamity will follow for the land of Sindoe, Sindoe will be layed waste by the gering." The night's trance culminated in the vivid impersonation of Μέη Gobleh advancing to the edge of the sea to challenge the approach of the evil ones—an enacting of that kind of fearsome effrontery with which the Balinese are wont to bolster their courage in the face of danger and to reassert their faith in the shrines they have built to the demonic deities who alone have power over the forces of evil. The theme established by the night's events was the expectancy of illness and misfortune—so that the people answered simply when we asked to whom the final offerings were given, "To the outside world, for there are visitors to come"—and the setting up of a modus operandi for warding off the danger by honoring the "little gods." The series of festivals at fifteen-day intervals instituted by the utterance of this night of September 20, 1937, laid a course for the gradual induction of the newly formed children's Djangir into the ritual. The connection betewen the litde doll-gods and the little doll-like dancers of the baby Djangdr might have been predicted, for it was of the kind that was implicit in the Balinese conception of trance, dancing, and the animation of figures. It was not long in becoming explicit. The people had been ordered to "dance" the little gods at the full moon and the dark moon for the succeeding six months. This command they faithfully obeyed, except for one occasion omitted because of the illness of the priest. With only one or two exceptions the dozen women holding the little gods went into trance, throwing themselves down on the sandy floor of the temple court, screaming and tossing their hair. On the night of November 4, the second dark moon after the festival at which the command was given, the woman Renting in her trance made the utterance which was interpreted as follows: "The Djanger children really have gods inside them, else how could they dance? Henceforward they are to be recognized as the followers of the sanghyang boengboeng." The retinue of the Goddess Poelaki was thus extended to in-

The

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elude the Djanger children. T h e Goddess has twelve attendants, represented by the sanghyang boengboeng, the little dolls, and these twelve attendants have the twenty-five little children as their followers. The priest of the Poera Dalem stated specifically that the Djanger was to have a Tiger banner, another link with the Goddess who has three tigers in her suite. It was also commanded that the Djanger was to perform often in order to keep the country "cool" (tis), that is, to ward off from the village "heat" and sickness with which the gering from across the sea were threatening it. There was a suggestion in the trance utterances that the gods themselves had formed a Djanger in their other world, that even their followers from across the sea (from Noesa) were a part of the company. The dancing of the litde children was "explained" as an earthly counterpart of the dancing of the gods in the invisible world. These trance utterances gave the children's group a definite place in the ritual. Up until this time they had performed only at the house of KM. They were already edging toward participation in the ceremonial life, for on this evening of November 4, before the pronouncements sanctioning their role, they had been allowed to carry the doll-gods in procession down to the temple by the sea for the visit of obeisance which precedes the trance dancing in the temple under the tree. After these pronouncements they were to be allowed to hold the little gods and dance with them in the actual ceremony which brings about the trance. This would take place at the following "dancing" of the little gods in the series of six months' duration proclaimed on September 20—that is, on the full moon of November 18. In the interval between the dark moon (November 4 ) , when the mediums expressly sanctioned the children's Djanger, and the following performance at full moon, it was arranged that the Djanger should play for the first time before the temple under the tree, for the benefit of the gods. On this occasion the entire group called at KM's house, then proceeded to the temple to "take holy water" and be blessed

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for their dedication to the gods. Only after these observances could they go home to change into their costumes for the performance. T h e people said that hereafter every time they danced it would be "for the gods, and for the good of the village." For the evening of the Djanger's first official entry into the temple ritual, M M , GB, and MK came down from the mountains to be present, so that we have very complete notes and some photographs as record (Figs. 2 1 - 2 6 ) . When the procession formed for the visit of the gods to the temple by the sea, Rekoen the Tiger-man was in the lead carrying the newly made tiger banner. Following him in single file came the litde girls of the Djangir—three years old, five years old, some of the biggest ones seven or eight —"nursing" the doll-gods. T h e little boys acted as spear bearers, walking along quite solemnly in the procession until a bunch of firecrackers was set off outside KM's gate. Then they had to break ranks and dash to pick up and hurl away the unexploded bits. When they had arrived at the temple, the litde gods were set up on a shrine. The litde girls came forward to kneel before the shrine, ready to receive holy water, while the two priests arranged the offerings and raised the smoking incense brazier. T h e litde boys again deserted temporarily to seize upon the musical instruments the men had placed at the back of the court and start banging upon them. As G B approached to photograph them, Rekoen called out, "No playing about there! Come along, Sirs!" and they were reminded of their duty. Taking flowers from among the offerings and seating themselves cross-legged, masculine fashion, for the formal obeisance, they executed the gestures of prayer, but they managed to turn this also into a frolic, seeing which of them could flick the flower farthest away. After receiving the blessing, some of the children got up and ran away. Others took down from the shrine the little god-figures and prepared to start home. Some discussion ensued as to whether the children should dance here in this temple with the sanghyang boengboeng or wait until the evening ceremony in the other

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temple. Very casually it was decided to do it here, and the children were lined up, nine girls and three boys holding the figures. This was a new bit of ritual, and no procedure had yet been fixed. T h e people said that once upon a time the little gods, which are six males and six females, had been carried half by men and half by women, but that the men had become "shy" ( a standard explanation for any change of fashion in Bali) so that it came to be only the women who carried the dolls. Now once more, with the merging of the children's Djanger into the ritual, the original pattern tended to be restored.

8 : 3 0 P.M. Two women begin to dress the two smallest Djangirs. Wajan is jumping about so that she is almost impossible to dress. T h e n they start to dance, weaving about in the center, to the music. W a j a n comes back again and kneels beside the dresser; then she is up again. Both dancing; both sit down and giggle, dance sitting down, onlv with their arms. Both up again; down again. An older girl, about eight, has Dajoe Big Belly on her lap and swings her back and forth. Wajan's clothes have come loose, and she is being redressed.

T h e priest solemnly wafted smoke upon each of the little figures, the children began to sing, and the little three-year-old Dajoe Big Belly with two other little girls led off the dancing. With much laughter and hilarity on all sides they went through the dance, facing each other in two lines, crossing through, and ending in a circle danced in single file, holding the dolls before them in the right hand and weaving the left to and fro in the gestures of the dance. T o accompany this trial performance they sang first a song belonging to the sanghyang boertgboeng ritual, then a song from their own Djanger repertoire. It ended in a cry of "Southward! Homeward!" whereupon the children all rushed off, shouting loudly, to deposit the little gods in the other temple where the evening's ceremony would take place.

Both are up and dancing again. ( A t this time the priest was dispensing holy water. T h e formal mendet, dancing with offerings, had not yet begun.) ( T h e dancing with offerings was begun by two grown-up girls, who, when they had executed a couple of turns with different offerings, were followed by some of the Djanger children. T h e n one of these older girls, who had helped to teach the children in their rehearsing for the Djanger, danced out with one of the little girls as partner. A pair of the little girls, emboldened, danced out together and were greeted with shouts of goodnatured comment, instructions, and laughter.) T h e two tiny ones, Dajoe Big Belly and Wajan, now both completely undressed, are making sand pies.

By half past eight the people had reassembled in the temple under the tree. T h e orchestra was playing gaily, the Djanger children all running about the court. By this time the clothes had come off the two tiniest ones, the high-caste Dajoe Big Belly, and the low-caste W a j a n , daughter of one of the village's best known trancers. M M concentrated upon these threeyear-olds throughout that night's performance, and the record of their behavior gives a picture of how such babies play their way into the ceremonial and how the ceremonial flowing about them gradually envelops them. T h e following is from MM's notes:

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(Rekoen, the Tiger-man, entered the dancing carrying the smoking brazier. He is a most effective dancer, tense in his limbs and his facial expression, his legs spread very wide in the masculine style. W h e n he had performed one turn, he retired to one side, and sat down by the woman and the two little dancers, who were tracing patterns on the sand with sticks.) T h e dancing continues, by the older girls, with some of the braver of the children coming out. One beckoned over her

The

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shoulder as she reached the shrine, and a whole group of the others rushed forward. The two little girls, omitting the dance, simply walked forward carrying the offerings, knelt before the shrine as the essence was wafted towards it, and returned to their places. The older girl danced once more. Dajoe Big Belly has been dressed again. Now Wajan is also dressed. Both watch the older girl who has taught them. Dajoe Big Belly begins to dance. The other children, a little bunch of them, dance out very casually, followed by three of the boys, with a rush. Dajoe Big Belly is on her knees, dancing with her arms. Wajan dances, sits down for a minute. Dajoe Big Belly is on her feet again, then on her knees, then once more on her feet, still dancing. (Rekoen entered again carrying the brazier, this time more exalted.) The two little ones have stopped dancing. [End of MM's notes]

As soon as the dancing with offerings to the various shrines had been completed, the children of five and six taking actual part, the little threeyear-olds dallying on the edge of the ritual, neither quite in it nor yet quite out of it, the ceremonial dancing of the sanghyang boengboengs began, and five of the Djanger children were given the doll-gods to hold. The others were carried by the older girls and women who are among those accustomed to perform this duty and who habitually fall into trance at the climax of the rite. So it was on this night; the gods had commanded that the children take part in the ceremony, but it could not be handed over to them all at once, and although the five new little girls danced in the line with the dolls, lifting them up and down in the proper manner as they progressed, when the time came and Rekoen gave his great roar and the woman Renting came whirling through the line with a

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smoking brazier of coals which she dropped and scattered as she fell headlong on the steps of the main shrine, it was the older girls who followed suit, screaming, dropping to the ground, weep ing, and sobbing. It was customary when the carriers of the sanghyang hoengboengs fell into trance for the priest and other attendants to remove the dolls from their hands and set them up again on the shrine. So now when the older girls went in trance, the dolls the children were carrying were taken from their hands too, and their part was at an end. The woman Renting once more made utterance, but this time made no mention of the children. She said nothing of any importance, simply announcing herself as one of the spirits from across the sea, correcting the attendants when they addressed her as a god, saying she was only a follower of the gods, and ordering a ground-offering Qtjaroe) for the evil spirits to be made on a subsequent day. This woman had a strange way, at times, of speaking in trance, stammering, gasping as if she were unable to get out what she had to say, and making most disturbing retching sounds. M M noted that the children found this amusing, burst into giggles, and were reprimanded by one of the men. They were quiet then during the remaining ten minutes of the trance conversation. But when the spirit speaking through Renting had "begged leave to depart," and she, coming to herself, stood up and stamped her feet, the children jumped up and began to shout "Going home! Going home!" as the meeting broke up and the people dispersed. It was not quite ten o'clock. These every-fifteen day ceremonials did not draw the big crowd that attended the regular temple festival, not all the people came out for them, and the enthusiasm and excitement varied with the size of the crowd. The absence of Roni, best dancer of the village, mother of two of the children in the Djanger, and the person who more than any other by her exaltation would set off the other trancers, was remarked upon by the people (she did not come because she was ill). It seemed that the general mildness of this

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evening's ritual—even Rekoen did not become a Tiger!—was in part attributable to the absence of Roni as leader of the sanghyang boengboeng dancers. Although the adults were not always present in great numbers for the rest of the six months' period when the sanghyang boengboengs were "danced" at every dark and every full moon, the children's Djangir group always went in full force. Each successive occasion gave them a chance to try their wings. Soon some of the little boys began going through the motions of trance. During the dance with offerings they would rush out with krisses and pretend to stab themselves, bending backward and forward against the point of the blade as the grown men do. The two most conspicuous in these essays of trance were Redan, son of the leader of the trance dancers Roni, mentioned above, aged about seven, and Montor (the name means "motorcar"), aged about six, son of Toemtoem. It was Montor who attracted much attention in the Djangdr performances by taking spills from the top of the gymnastic pyramid which the boys formed as part of their act. Following the lead of these two little boys, other boys were soon imitating the trance dance. A very striking instance of the repetition of patterns was remarked when four-year-old Korna began to do the trance motions. He was the son of Lemoen, one of the more violent of the trancers of the village, a man of low intelligence who was chiefly distinguished for his peculiar way of attacking himself with the kris when in trance. The universal method in Bali was to place the point of the kris against the chest, on one side or the other, usually just below the clavicle. When Dr. P. M. van Wulfften Palthe came to Bali to give his expert opinion on our cases, he remarked that during the trance state the pectoral muscles were in rigid contraction, resisting the point of the kris. T h e man Lemoen's idiosyncratic manner of performing consisted in directing the point of the kris not against his chest but against his cheek; and the doctor noticed especially that in his case the chest muscles were not affected, but

District those of the face—all the muscles apparently contracted simultaneously, so that the mouth was not drawn either up or down, but the side of the face remained rigid, the cheek presenting an absolutely hard surface to the point of the blade. The little four-year-old Korna in his first imitative motions of the trance dance also directed the point of the kris towards his cheek, like his father. The boys were considerably in advance of the girls in trying out these trance-inducing motions, although the girls had been, on the whole, bolder about dancing. By the end of the six months' sequence of sanghyang boengboeng performances the children were well along in their tentative stages of participation in the trance. Meanwhile, during the winter season, many foreign visitors came to KM's house, and the children's Djangir continued to play for them often, enthusiastically backed by the rest of the village. Then towards the end of 1938, a group of the adolescents in the village decided to form a competitive Djanger. T h e leaders of this group were KM's Balinese boy KP and a son of Ida Bagoes Rai of the Brahmana household. As this group became popular the importance of the children's Djanger as secular entertainment in the village waned considerably. But it was KM's impression that being edged out so caused them to be even more intently concerned in the dancing in the temples, the dancing with offerings and that which led up to trance. KM wrote of this period in their development: The young people's Djangir had great vogue, and the children mostly sat around and watched them, themselves performing less and less. But all the time they were becoming more and more in evidence in the temple. This relationship between the two groups persisted until the fall of 1939, when war was declared, and no more travelers were coming to be audience for either group. The village lost interest, as villages do for a time, until another year when a revival will take place. Only the temple festivals were left for the young dancers to appear in. T h e older group just melted away. But the children were

The

Baby Djanger Goes in

taking more and more of a part in the dancing with offerings, and their leaders like Montor, Redan, Koma [mentioned above], and Ida Bagoes Alit (the little Brahmana grandson), and among the girls Njoman (daughter of the famous trancer Roni and sister of Redan), Roedin and Ribek (also daughters of trancers), and the little Wajan, now aged five, all had been in trance. It was not until April 1, 1940, that the whole group was carried away, and took over the roles up to now played by the adults in the formal medatangan [coming of the gods].7 On the night of the temple festival of April 1, 7 It was the custom in this temple for the trance session at which the gods held a feast and a conversation to take place much as has been described for the Intaran sadegs, the expectant mediums sitting about a board laid with offerings on leaf-plates, with heavy smoke of incense coming from the braziers, surrounded by people singing and with the orchestra playing loudly in cross rhythm. The chief difference here was that at the time the priest prayed and made libations inviting the gods to come down, the mediums were seated on the floor of the court, not on a pavilion, and that after they had gone in trance, that is, after the gods had arrived, they all got up and moved to a space on a slightly higher level, immediately before the main shrine. They were in trance at the time they made the move and generally spoke to each other in their trance roles, calling for godly personalities who had "not yet arrived." W e have seen them call for the twelve "flowers," the names of the little gods who were the attendants of the Goddess Poelaki, whose spirits were

represented by the twelve dolls sanghyang

boengboeng.

If the doll-figures were not present, the girls who would carry them danced in their place, for the gods' entertainment. This part of the ritual might lead directly into other forms of trance activity, as when Rekoen, slipping out of his tiger role, would perform in trance t i e dance with crossed spears opposite an entranced partner, or the men would break into "krisdancing," leaping about and stabbing themselves, or again, as on the night of the festival described, September 20, 1937, a man was dressed as the Witch and the mask of Rangda put on him for a dramatic portrayal of her personality. Some of the mediums who had been seated at the feast sat quietly, apparently in trance, watching the more violent performance of the others; some appeared to come out of trance very soon and resumed their normal personalities. There always was a possibility of this slipping in and out of trance many times during the night, especially if the excitement was kept at a high pitch, so that the fact of a medium's appearing to the observer to be "already awake" at one point dia not preclude his being carried away again a little later, in the same role or another.—JB.

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1940, I was ill with a fever. The sounds of the ceremony in progress in the temple on the other side of the wall were as usual, up until the time when the trance began. Through my fever I kept hearing a very different tone to the cries and the screaming which accompany the going into trance. The cries were eerie, unreal—as if an older person were using a child's voice. At last I got up from my bed and went as far as the temple wall where I could look over into the court. I saw that it was the Djanger children who were in trance. Among the boys were Rindi, Korna (six), who imitates his father directing the kris at his cheek, Laoeh, Redan (nine), Montor (eight), Ida Poetoe, and Ida Bagoes Alit (eight). The little star dancer Wajan, aged five, was in trance, but her partner Dajoe Big Belly was absent because of illness. Other girls in trance were Rod, Njoman, sister of Redan, Roedin, who had been in trance before at the other temple, Maring, Ribek, and Wasni, granddaughter of the priest of the Poera Dalem. They were throwing themselves around on the ground, writhing, crying, screaming, while the adults were in great excitement, urging them on with cries and shouting the "tjeriok! tjeriok!" which in this village is used as an extra stimulus to raise the pitch of trance. Of the older people only the woman Renting and Rekoen the Tigerman seemed to be in trance. Neither of the two priests had gone in, and the women and older girls who habitually go in trance with the sanghyang boengboengs, including their leader Roni (the mother of two of the children now in trance), were trying to catch hold of the children and bring them under control. It was somehow a shock to see the children fought over by their elders, egged on, screamed at, and finally caught and held until subdued. At last the children were picked up like limp rag dolls and draped over someone's arm or dumped into a lap, like a collapsible toy. There they remained, motionless little figures, too far in the other world to be aware of this one. Never before had I seen trance in Sindoe reach such a pitch of excitement. The very

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youngness of the children's bodies, as they were gripped by convulsions, rigidity, tautness, or fell limp in collapse, produced an impression stronger than any I had experienced in witnessing such a scene. T h e Balinese say the children are "nearer to the gods, having just come from there," and perhaps it was the conception of this "nearness" which made their trance so fantastically unreal and at the same time a terrifyingly present actuality—the sort of thing that has such a nightmare quality that one has difficulty in believing it even while it happens before one's very eyes. Although I had missed what went before and led up to this outbreak of trance in the children, it seemed important that what followed was the exact duplication of the ceremonial offered the adult mediums who are brought into trance by the "expectancy" method, sitting about a board laid for the gods' feast. T h e children were lifted up and carried to the higher level, set down before the main shrine to the Goddess Poelaki. As they lay there, propped against a grown person's breast or draped limply across someone's lap, the offerings were set before them, the libations poured, the ritual formulas of address to the gods repeated by the priests, just as for their elders when "the gods are come down into them" (keraoehan). If the children had made utterance in their trance state, their words would have been considered as commands from on high. As it happened, no one gave any direct message. They were sprinkled with holy water and smoked over the incense brazier to bring them to themselves. As they wakened from the trance, some of the children cried, others thrashed about and struggled, just as their elders do. To me their trance seemed deep and almost on a different plane from what we are accustomed to see in Bali. Watching the people carrying out the ritual, handling the children with great care as they moved the offerings nearer to them, tenderly bending over them as though they were fragile shells which contained an essence, an entity, a something delicate and quite apart from the real and the tangible, I too

District had the impression that the little forms should be the objects of hommage and of reverence. [End of KM's account]

In the days that followed KM tried repeatedly to get the villagers to comment on that night's occurrence, which had seemed to her such an important culmination in the role played by the group of child dancers which she herself had so casually begun. From the day when the children had been sitting about listening to the phonograph and then started, as a game, to play at being Djangers until this night when the whole group was "entered by the spirits of the gods" and lifted up to a place of honor, given formal recognition in terms of ceremonial observances, two and a half years had passed. But the change in their role had been so gradual, their induction into the ritual so imperceptible in the series of its stages, that the villagers found nothing at all remarkable in it. They simply said, "Last night it was the children who were keraoehan [entered by the gods]." That was all. The chief manifestation of the power of the gods on a site renowned as the home of supernatural presences had taken place, at the formal celebration of the anniversary of its gods, through the bodies of these children, but no one seemed to think there was anything in the least surprising about that. Just as on that distant night of September 20, 1937, when the tiny Wajan had been inspired to dance all by herself against her shadow while the ceremonial went on, and the people said, "There must be a god in her," so on this night of April 1, 1940, they accepted without question the violent trance of the whole group of children as an attestation of the gods' presence and power. As Dajoe Anom, wife of one of the brothers of the Brahmana household, had stated: "In the village of Sindoe, all the people can be entered ( k e r a o e h a n ) , and all can not be entered. It depends upon the gods who come down. If the god is pleased with I Geredag, I Geredag is entered. When the next anniversary

The

Baby Djanger Goes in

Festival comes along if the god is pleased with I Djanggol, I Djanggol is entered. It depends on the god who is seated, wherever it pleases the

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65

god to be seated, there he sits. That is why in Sindoe of all the forty households every person can be entered, male and female."

II

Gianjar District Adjoining the district of Badoeng, in the district of Gianjar, lay a cluster of villages famous for their trance performances. These villages were separated only by a narrow river from Kesiman, the center of the trance ceremonial in the manner of Badoeng. In spite of their proximity, they did not partake of the style of trance ceremonial described in the last section. They had their own peculiar style, in the tradition of the Gianjar district. They had no sadegs, pengadegans, and perekoelits; there were no formal group siances attended by individual mediums as representatives of the gods. Instead, they had developed the role of the masked figures, Barong and Rangda, associated with their temples, and in place of human beings it was these masked figures which served as representatives of the gods when a formal conclave of the godly presences was called. The members of a temple in any one of these villages "kept" in the temple the enormous figure of a mythological lion, tiger, or pig, or giant figures in human form. Each figure's potency resided in the mask, which had been skillfully carved from sacred wood, decorated, and caused to be imbued with the godly power by a series of rituals. Associated with these Barongs were other masks, notably those of the Witch, Rangda, and her evil satellites. These were also kept in the temple, closed up in baskets when they were not in use. Offerings had to be given to the masks of Barong and Rangda at specified intervals lest the power go out of them. When ple, the offerings Further,

a festival was taking place in the temmasks were set out in state to receive as receptacles of the godly presences. the masked figures from other temples

were invited to attend. They came in procession, shaded by ceremonial parasols, guarded by lance bearers, and followed by a hundred or more of their "subjects," members of the temple whose god the masked figure was representing. If one asked why a given Barong or Rangda from another temple was present at a festival, one was told that it was because they were related to the Barong whose birthday was being celebrated— all his kin had to come to the party. Barongs and Rangdas had family ties just as the gods have. Particularly remarkable in this region was the development of the activity of self-stabbing practiced by the Barongs followers. The men would go in trance, but before they began to attack themselves they would execute a highly stylized and very beautiful dance, in formation and in unison, a true ballet. The trance state seemed to overtake them while they were dancing. Dancing also played an important part in the ritual trances held late at night in the course of the temple festivals. Here men and women, old crones, little girls and boys, the ugliest and the most beautiful together, would dance in single file around one of the temple shrines until some of them were brought into trance. On these occasions it would often happen that the huge masked figures, sitting in state, were brought to life. The entranced, running wild and overcome by a seemingly irresistible desire to get into the masks, would force their way past the priests who guarded them, enter the figures, and go careening ofF round the temple, enacting with fearsome realism the presence of the giant Pig, the Lion, or the Witch. For a time there would be pandemonium. The temple court would be

Gianjar filled with wild-haired, wild-eyed figures, brandishing krisses, leaping, shouting, and jostling against huge figures which loomed above them. At the end of this excitement, when things quieted down, certain ones of the entranced would play the role of oracles and utter the commands of the gods. Even here the importance of the Barongs and Rangdas was stressed, for those who would habitually "talk" in trance claimed to be entered by the god of one or another of the masked figures. The villages of this cluster particularly active in trance manifestations lay next to one another along the main motor road or, nearly adjoining, in the less accessible region back from the road. The three villages which we studied intensively were Tegaltamoe, Dendjalan, and Pagoetan. The members of each group were aware of everything that went on in the neighboring villages, and there was considerable interplay between them. Certain of the more prominent characters belonging to one group took a part in the activities of their neighbor groups and therefore appear in more than one of the sections. The villages had a rather different character from those we described in the Intaran district. One of the most striking differences was that here there were no Brahmana High Priests and their families who set a standard for ritual procedure and erudition, and influence the lives of the simpler folk by a thousand subtle points of pressure in their daily contacts. Although this region harbored a few members of the Satrya caste, for complex historical and social reasons,1 these did not hold much power over the villagers. The caste picture here was rather that of the "small nobility" dominating the scene, members of the Wesya caste, whose title was Goesti, and descendants of Satrya fathers and low-caste mothers, whose title was Dέwa. These minor nobles were given the title Anak Agoeng (Great Man) by their "subjects," as if they were indeed rulers. Elsewhere in Bali, families with no 1 Before the Dutch conquest, Oeboed conquered the region, installed a Mantja in the palace at Batoeboelan. The ruling family moved to Toeboeh, but it had declined, ana all hut died out.

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67

higher rank, but who had maintained their position as the feudal lords in their locality, continued to exercise considerable power. If they were wealthy, or if their position had been backed up by appointment as officials of the Government, they were very nearly as important as before the introduction of Dutch rule. But the minor nobles of this particular region, those who concern us here, were neither very prosperous nor endowed with power in the system. They were in the position of "gentlemen in reduced circumstances," with an honorable tradition behind them, but with only the prestige associated with their birth to give them influence. Only the descendants of the low-caste families which once were actually ruled by them continued to offer them formal homage in the title Anak Agoeng, and whatever obedience seemed to them fitting—they were under no compulsion to obey. However, the concept of the person of high caste as being made of different stuff from the commoner, as belonging to a different and somehow superior species, persisted in the minds of the people even under more democratic conditions and tended to perpetuate the hierarchy of the old days. It is necessary to understand this background for the position of the small nobility in order to grasp the import of their preoccupation with heritage, tradition, and the patterns of ascendancy and subservience stemming from the past. They were very like certain families in the South of the United States who still pride themselves on their aristocratic birth, though they may not still occupy a dominant position in the democratic world they live in. Their own pride in their heritage is supported by the descendants of those their forefathers dominated, who continue to pay them respect as "ladies and gentlemen," continue to invest them with qualities proper for those of a superior heritage, and profess to find in others, less "gently bom," a lack of these qualities. Such a status can be the basis for the continuation of influence in the community if the exponents of the assumed superiority live up to the standards they set for themselves and which are expected of them. They begin

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Gianjar District

with prestige. If they can display superior talent, wit, generosity of spirit, a sense of responsibility toward the community, and true leadership, their position is maintained, and all of their virtues are accepted by themselves and by those who defer to them as directly attributable to their superior birth. If their behavior is undis-

tinguished, they lapse into obscurity and tend to merge with the rest of the population. A title is in itself no proof that a man or woman plays a role of importance in the community. But if a tided person is outstanding, everyone will agree, himself included, that that is as it should be.

TEGALTAMOE, VILLAGE OF DRAMATIC ARTISTS AND TRANCE PRACTITIONERS At the corner of the crossroads of the village of Tegaltamoe stood the poeri, or "palace," of an illustrious family. They were Goestis, of Wesya caste, and the highest ranking nobility of the village. They were a family of artists, accomplished actors and dancers; they were also famous for carving masks and puppets and preparing costumes for performances. Their palace consisted of a series of courtyards, adorned with finely carved gates of stone, and a house-temple elaborately decorated and possessed of many rich ceremonial objects. Other complexes of courtyards inhabited by their near relations adjoined the central palace, and were spoken of sometimes as the Southern Poeri, the Eastern Poeri, and so forth, sometimes as a part of the one big house. The most important temple of the village, the Poera Dalem, was said to belong to (dereu^) the family. All the ritual and affairs of the temple were closely controlled by the family, and the ceremonial life of the village which centered about this temple was the absorbing preoccupation of all its members. They had for five generations served as priests of the temple and did not allow any outsiders to officiate there. Even at the biggest yearly festival (odalan pedoedoesan^), for which it could be expected that a family of high caste would call in the services of a Brahmana High Priest, they dispensed with his services. The family did everything; their care of the temple and their devotion to the gods was complete and selfsufficient.

years. Their household and mine stood upon a footing of mutual respect in a relation of reciprocal friendliness. When any members of my household visited them to ask for help or a favor, they were sure of assistance, and their family in tum, when they visited my house, were welcomed as honored guests. The relation was a warm one, for a little Balinese boy of my household, a protigi for many years and known as "my child," was placed for several months in the palace of these people to study dancing. His intimacy with the young man who was his teacher, with the young man's mother who looked after him, and with the children of the household formed a link between us. Although I saw them only occasionally, these people were my friends and were therefore willing to discuss with me the aspects of the trance situation as they saw it, with considerable freedom and at length.

I had known the family for a number of

Here were three men, sitting cross-legged on

If one entered the forecourt of the palace at any hour of the day, one would find the family engaged in attending to business of a bewildering variety and scope. Seated quiedy on one of the pavilions would be some twenty men of all ages. Among them would be Goesti Adji Mokoh (Fat Father), a man like a bullfrog, the actual head of the house (Fig. 28); his son Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, a fine-featured young man of delicate build, with a face both sensitive and intelligent (Figs. 27 and 31); his younger brother Goesti Ngoerah Rai, tall and vigorous, and half a dozen cousins and uncles of lesser importance.

Dramatic the very edge of the pavilion, addressing their hosts with joined hands and polite phrases. T h e y came from afar, from the village of Tabanan twenty miles to the west, to ask Goesti Ngoerah Majoen's assistance in making a new set of masks for a group of players. "Be sure you get deerhom, not pig-bone, for the white veneer of the masks," Goesti Ngoerah was saying. "Grind it fine, and have ready also the other ingredients." T h e petitioners asked if he would come in person to their village to do the finishing. "I will come," answered Goesti Ngoerah, "but see to it that you have everything ready. Go home now and make your preparations, and when all is in order, you may come back here and report to me. I cannot travel to your village and find that you have not prepared everything that is necessary." H e spoke firmly and with dignity, for he was a busy man, accomplished at his trade, and he had no time to spare. Here were two other men, of high caste, who addressed their hosts also in the high language, but not subserviently, rather as equals. T h e y asked if the father, the son, and his uncle would come to a village ten miles to the north to give a representation of their mask play (Top^wg) at a three-day festival they were holding. T h e family consulted among themselves. T h e next day was impossible, for Goesti Ngoerah was engaged to act as dalang, to give a shadow play at a domestic ceremony. T h e following day was also not good, for they had a set of headdresses to be delivered, and time was pressing: they would surely not be finished if all three went off to give a performance. But the third day it might be arranged. Here was a woman of the village, who had come to ask Goesti Adji, the father, if he would visit as a doctor her child who lay ill at home. Coming out of the court of the household temple, which communicated with the forecourt, followed by a little procession of women and children, would walk the tall, stiff figure of the Hermaphrodite ( F i g . 3 0 ) . H e was dressed in a white loincloth, with a white upper-cloth bound round his breast. His hair was long, drawn back from his high forehead and folded into itself at

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69

the back, like that of a woman. H e was an old man, but there was about his face a strained and poignant beauty; it was the face of an ascetic, of a man who had suffered and thought deeply. T h e r e were heavy lines down the sides of his full, mobile lips. His mouth was cut in the form known as "sensual," but there was a tautness in the way he drew down his upper lip which gave to it a look of determination and of subtle disgust. His eyes were deep set and peered out from under the fixed frown on his brow, as if to say, "Do not worry me with your questions, I have troubles enough of my own." H e was a silent man; he would come to sit quietly among the others on the pavilion, but he did not join in the talk. H e would dismiss with a nod the little procession of women and children which had come to ask for holy water, to be used as medicine, from the Barong kept in the housetemple. Goesti Ngoerah Poetoe Bantjih ( H e r maphrodite) was the elder brother of Goesti Adji, but because he could not marry he did not act as head of the household. H e was chief priest of the Poera Dalem. T h e only thing that he ever told me about himself was that he had sworn a vow never to leave the temple which was under his care, that he gave offerings there every five days, and that for many, many years he had never gone out of his village except when accompanying the gods. Passing across the court came a woman carrying a tray of little offerings which she deposited here and there at the corners of the buildings. She was a woman past fifty, very slender, with the figure of a girl and the erect and graceful bearing of a princess. T h i s was Goesti Poetoe Kepik, known as Goesti Biang ( M o t h e r ) , the feminine head of the household, wife of Goesti Adji and mother of Goesti Ngoerah Majoen ( F i g . 2 9 ) . She served also as priestess of the Poera Dalem. She rarely failed to go into deep trance at any festival connected with the temple and was chiefly responsible for any innovations and excursions undertaken by the temple members, since in trance she spoke the will of the god. She said that she had inherited the right to "climb up and down" the shrines of the gods,

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Giatijar

for she was heir to the function through her own father and through her father-in-law, both of whom had served as priests of the temple. The family was one of those not infrequently met with in high-caste groups who were so inbred that it was no longer possible for them to tell through what lines the members traced their kinship. They made no distinction between ties on the female and on the male side, for, as they said, "it is all the same house." Marriages of cousins, second cousins, and nieces confused the picture, as did the Balinese custom of classifying all uncles and aunts as fathers and mothers. Goesti Biang told me at difFerent times that her own father and her husband's father were cousins, also that her mother and her husband's father were cousins. If this is true she would have been his second cousin on both sides. Her father and mother were cousins, the children of two brothers. Her son, Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, was married to his mother's brother's granddaughter, his first cousin once removed. Another young man prominent in the family was descended from a second wife of her husband's father. As this young man's grandmother was a commoner, his title was not as high as that of the other members—he kept the Goesti but not the Ngoerah, and he was not called Anak Agoeng by the local populace, as the others were. He served as priest for the Barong Bangkal, an enormous masked figure in the shape of a pig, with a coat of black cloth and a huge tusked mask of black decorated with red and gold—a most important personage in the ceremonial life of the village. All of the members of the family stood in the relation to each other known as "saling soernbah," that is, when any member of the related families died all had to make the reverence to the dead as their ancestor. The only exceptions were the family members of mixed blood, like the young man just mentioned, who made the reverence to dead relations of the parent family but who did not receive the same honor from the pure-blooded Goestis. By the method of marrying in, the men took by preference wives who had with them a common grandfather or great-grandfather, so that the women were not

District separated off from the parental house and did not forfeit their alliance with the household temple and their fathers' ancestors, as they would have if they had married a stranger and had been forced to forsake their own ancestor temple for that of their husbands. This custom made of the family a very compact and unified group, whose interests were merged and who cooperated in sustaining with all glory the household temple and the Poera Dalem which were their heritage. That they were an unusually gifted group of individuals contributed to the brilliance of their performances and festivals. Nowhere in Bali, perhaps, was the conception of religious and magic power vested in the sacred Barongs and Rangdas more vigorously alive. Their tradition of trance accompanying the Barong's ritual existence was very strong. Goesti Biang, herself the chief trancer of the family, spoke with pride of the power of both her own father and her husband's father, who had been, according to her statement, violent trancers. She said, "Goesti Ngoerah Mad6 Koeta was a foremost trancer. When he was in trance, nobody dared to sit down at his side. Goesti Ngoerah Ged6 was in the very first place as a trancer. It was so strong the litde children cried." This man's grandson, Goesti Mad6, the priest for the Barong Bangkal (Pig), carried on the tradition; we often saw him in trance in the temple. Goesti Biang's husband, Goesti Adji, had the reputation of a balian wisada or oesada (a lettered doctor) who practiced medicine from the books, but he was also known and feared as a person possessed of supernatural magic power (safeti). He played the part of Raroeng, the Witch's chief pupil in the Tjalonarang play, wearing the costume and the mask of a Rangda. The Witch herself, the chief Rangda, was played by his younger brother Goesti Ngoerah Rai, who was taller in stature. I never saw either of these two go in trance in their parts, but it was said that they had to have great magic force to be able to withstand the powerful magic of the masks they wore, and, when they played, uncounted numbers of the audience were set off in trance. Goesti Ngoerah

Dramatic

Majoen said, "The men with krisses are very angry. When it is my father who plays Rangda, the men do not dare to stab him, but if he turned around they would stab him in the back. When they are face to face with him, they can only stab themselves." The young man Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, perhaps the most talented of the whole group, was especially the priest of the much revered Barong K£t£t, a receptacle of the god of Dalem, which was closely guarded in the family house-temple. Besides this function, he was one of the most famous Baris dancers of Bali, an equally famous Tcrpeng (mask p l a y ) player, a renowned teacher of the dance, a carver of masks, and a gifted dalartg, manipulator and reciter for the sacred shadow-show. Goesti Biang told us this reason for her son's success as a dancer: his soul was the reincarnated soul of his mother's brother, Goesti Ngoerah Oka, an extremely clever actor, who in turn was the incarnation of Pandji (noemitis Pandji). Pandji is a figure of legendary history in Indonesia, around whom centers a cycle of tales and dramas of the Gamboeh plays in Bali, and who is cited in Javanese literature as a prince who disguised himself and performed the role of didang.2 He was often honored as the titulary deity of actors and dancers. They begged for proficiency and success at his shrines. It should be noted that in the Poera Dalem of Tegaltamoe there stood a shrine to "Pandji Landoeng." Goesti Biang's is the only statement I collected which would suggest that dramatic talent could be transmitted directly in the returning soul, although the belief in the fact of inherited talent was widespread. Goesti Ngoerah Majoen was said never to go in trance, but he did practice divining by the method of gazing into a fingernail rubbed with oil, causing the subject to see in the shining surface the enactment of whole scenes in minute detail (see Chapter V ) . This practice was based upon hypnosis and a form of mind reading and was both more difficult and more startling in its results than the ordinary trance divination. In our experience, the only men who practiced it ' "Soeloek Malang Soemirang," a Javanese poem.

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were persons of unusual intellect and forceful personality. The members of the Poera Dalem temple number 138 households, of which half were from Tegaltamoe and half from the neighboring bandjar of Pegambangan. They were pemaksans, that is, people who willingly and by inheritance followed the temple routine but who were not a corporation owning it in common—it belonged to the Goesti family. There were twenty households of Goestis in Tegaltamoe alone, all related, if distantly, to the chief family. From eight to twelve ordained temple priests, guardians of other temples or of the various Barongs, attended the temple rituals, and of these seven were Goestis. Of six women trancers at one festival, three were born Goestis, and a fourth the wife of a Goesti. One of the young men most violent in trance was Goesti Gedjir, aged about seventeen. As many as fifty trained dancers of all ages took part in the temple dances Qfemendak, gdbor, mendet, redjang, and so forth). Goesti Biang and her brother-in-law, the Hermaphrodite Priest, were both prominent leaders of these dances, while many among the girls and two boys of eight and ten years, who performed with the greatest aplomb, were the offspring of branches of the family. These children belonged to the seventh generation of the descendants of the founder of the temple. They had been thoroughly drilled in dance technique to be able to participate in the community dancing. Such a large percentage of the inhabitants of Tegaltamoe were trained dancers that it was one of the few villages in Bali where something which approximated community dancing, as against dancing by a few chosen specialists, took place at festivals. When visitors remarked upon the smooth and accomplished performance of such a great number of the temple dancers, the people would answer airily, "Of course we are all professional players Qperegina) here." According to their own story of the family's origins, as it was told to us by Goesti Biang, the forefather was once ruler in the district of Badoeng. "He quarreled with his brothers, they fought, and he was defeated. He ran away then

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to another village. First he stopped in a place called Tegal; and he was accompanied by two hundred [households of] followers. There he again was attacked by Badoeng, and he ran away to Tegaltamoe [district of Gianjar]. When he came here, he had only one hundred followers, for the other one hundred had remained in Tegal, waiting to see if there would be place enough for all of them at the new site. W h e n the forefather had seen that there was room enough for all of them, they had already become settled at the former place and did not wish to move, for they were content. That is why to this day the family has only one hundred subjects. And the story is that the reason the forefather was sent away from Badoeng was that he was punished by the god of the Mountain Batoer. He was punished because he had paid no attention to the god of the Mountain Batoer, for he had hold over too many subjects. And there was utterance of the god, thus: *Wih, you Goesti Ngoerah of Tegehkoeri [High Gate], whenever you shall have two hundred subjects, once more you may possess the kingdom of Badoeng.' But up until this time there are still not two hundred subjects in Tegaltamoe. Most of the people have many children, but as soon as they move out of the paternal house, they die. So the number of households of subjects does not increase." T h e Poera Dalem was built, they said, soon after the people came to Tegaltamoe, and it was the forefather who built it. That was five generations ago. Goesti Biang styled herself the "heir to the god of the Poera Dalem" Qsentanan betara di Poera Dalem). "In the beginning the god did not have as a sitting-place (mepelinggihan) a Barong K£t£t and a Rangda. At first he had a Tiger Barong CMatjan) and a Rangda as sitting-place; and it happened that the god was ashamed, and there was utterance (in trance), to wit, that there should be a Barong K£t£t as a sitting-place for him, to be accompanied by a Rangda. Then a Barong K£t£t was made by my son Ngoerah; perhaps four hundred silver dollars (jinggit) were spent upon it." It was indeed a magnificent Barong, and its coat was made entirely of sleek black feathers.

District The family said: "The god of the Poera Dalem is called Ratoe Ged6 Dalem. He 'sits' in the Barong K£t£t, called Ratoe Agoeng, who is male; and in the Rangda, called Ratoe Dalem, who is female." Goesti Biang said: "The Barong Κ&έΐ in Tegaltamoe is in the speech of the Upper World (tjara di loewoer) called Ratoe Ged6 Poetera. When people speak of him in the daylight, 8 he is called simply Ratoe Agoeng. The Pig Barong is called in the Upper World Ratoe Kaladjaja. Of the Barong Landoengs [the tall figures of a male and a female personage, each worn by a single player], the male is called Kajang Api." "The Pig Barong [male] of Tegaltamoe has a daughter, who is the Rangda of Pagoetan. T h e wood [for the mask] was begged from Tegaltamoe; when there is a festival in the temple she comes home." These were not the only relationships claimed between the gods and the masked figures of Tegaltamoe, and the people were still busy discovering new ties of kinship between them. On May 12, 1937, the last of a five-day festival at the Poera Dalem, we saw Goesti Biang go in trance, possessed it was said by the Barong K£t£t, Ratoe Agoeng. T h e god announced that he wished to go to a reunion at Padangdawa, "to see Father." At the time that the utterance was made, Goesti Biang's husband had never heard of this place, and he asked where it was. But it was a well-known festival attended by Barongs from near and far. When the appointed days came (June 19-22) forty Barongs accompanied by their "subjects" and regalia went in procession to the meeting place. The Tegaltamoe people decided not to take their Barong, for fear of spoiling its beauty, but on June 21 set out bearing their Rangda as representative of the god of their temple. Nine members of Goesti Biang's household went on the excursion, as well as a goodly following from the other members of the village. As a result of the visit, it was discovered that the god of the temple at Padangdawa was the Mother (dados Iboe, dados Biang) of their Rangda, Ratoe " That is, in everyday context.

Dramatic Dalem. Goesti Biang went in trance, they reported, four times in the three days of their absence. When they arrived at the temple, a day's walk distant (near Apoean), a Pasoepati ritual was performed, like the one with which a newly made mask is dedicated. The subjects of the god were required to sit up all night watching the Rangda, to test the magic power in her, that is, to ascertain that she still remained tenget. Goesti Ngoerah told us that "as soon as it was midnight, the basket which held the Rangda made a creaking sound and turned about on itself; and that was the sign that the Rangda was still tenget." On the return, June 23, the people were so tired that they stopped halfway, in a temple at Sading, to spend the night. Here once more the phenomenon of the Rangda's basket turning of its own accord was repeated. Goesti Biang, who had gone in trance twice at Padangdawa, went in trance once more. The following day they continued on their journey home. As the procession neared Tegaltamoe, villagers who were subjects of the god but who had not gone on the excursion fell in trance spontaneously as the Rangda passed. "There was a man working upon a culvert, and when he saw the Rangda arriving from Padangdawa he ran home, his body still covered with mud, and took up his kris, and did ngoerek before the Rangda. And there was another man who was climbing a coconut tree, and in the same way, when he saw the people coming from Padangdawa, he came down from the tree and took a kris and did ngoerek. There was also a woman cooking in her kitchen, and when she saw the Rangda arriving she ran and took a kris and began to ngoerek before the Rangda." A young man called I Retig, an habitual trancer of Tegaltamoe, who is often seized with the desire to animate one of the Barongs, was said to have been in the act of buying from a vendor a dish of porridge, for which he had paid three p>ennies. He went in trance at sight of the Rangda, threw down the porridge which he had just bought and not yet tasted, and did ngoerek. "Many were the people who went in trance. . . . All the women cried and were afraid to see

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the people doing ngoerek. And that evening the little boys gave the Baris play, and in the batde scene we dared not give them krisses. So they took coconut-dippers, and with them they fought." The implication was that the magic power released was so strong that they were afraid for the child actors, lest they go in trance in their parts and hurt one another. The members of the family had quite a different attitude towards the trances of people of their own group, that is, their own relations and a few others who were the recognized receptacles of the gods, and the spontaneous trances of other people, which they seemed to consider unorthodox. What they said was that these people were "unclean," or insufficiendy serious. People who were digging ditches had no business to go in trance, and if they did they were entered not by gods but by kalas (demons). Goesti Biang said, "Those who ngoerek in the temple are only the priests." Goesti Ngoerah said, "When people ngoerek like those of yesterday when they are making a culvert, and they run off home and seize a kris and ngoerek, it is a kola which enters them. All those who do ngoerek are entered by kalas. If a person is not pure (fcersih), the god does not want to animate Qangin) him; if a man still has mud sticking to him after working, it's surely a kala who animates him." According to Goesti Biang, "The gods4 do not desire young people (badjang). Their thoughts waver. When they are old, their thoughts are at one. While they're young, they doubt. If a child [indicating a girl of seven years as an example] like this should ngoerek, it would be a patih, a follower of the god who entered her. It is like you [speaking to me] who have many servants. When the god comes he is accompanied by many servants." It was of course Goesti Biang herself who represented the god—not always the same god—and the others were a part of his retinue. Her attitude was one of quiet pride coupled with such earnestness that there could 4 The word she used for the gods here is ι v i d i , which really means god; whereas the usual word in discussing trance enterings is άέ\να, a looser term, which can be applied both to gods and to demons.

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be no doubt of her religious conviction. When questioned as to her sensations and her earliest memories of her trance life, she was reluctant to speak. She said: "I can't remember, it makes me shy." But she did say, 'It was when I was already pure Cbersih), already clean (feedes), when I already had a child.® When I had had a child, I went in trance, because my thoughts were old. If people pretend and act as if they had lost consciousness, they are attacked by lijaks [witchlike spirits]. They may fall down, they may be burned, they may die. As for me, if I were not unconscious, could I speak? What could I say [in trance]? And then, if one is not in trance and falls down as if in trance, he can break his arm. Once unconscious, even though he falls nothing happens, because the god is animating him. And once unconscious, even though he picks up fire, his hands are not burnt." The same idea of true trance giving the subject immunity from physical hurt, and conversely, the fact of physical hurt indicating that something is awry in the trance connection between the subject and the entering spirit, was apparent in statements of Goesti Ngoerah. He attributed this flaw in the connection to uncleanness on the part of the subject. He said, "Once there was a man in Pagoetan who did ngoerek, and the kris entered his breast the breadth of two fingers. He was a man who was unclean (t;ewer). He was taken to the temple and laid underneath the Barong. For a whole month he remained there, and then at last he was healed. Another time I was playing my Barong in Soekawati, and it was also like that—an unclean CsefceZ) person did ngoerek, and the kris entered his breast. Then they took hibiscus flowers from the [headdress of the] Barong and with them stopped the wound, and straightway it was healed." W e questioned Goesti Ngoerah as to the meaning of the two titles selir hoelan and " T h e more erudite Balinese believe that a woman has not fulfilled herself, that is, has not become quite "pure," until she has had a child, and that a special punishment is reserved in hell for childless women.

District spermas, which we had heard used in the trance utterances. He said, "In Tegaltamoe, in short, all my relations who are old [enough] and who are not in trance, those are the ones who may be called selir hoelan, spermas. Men and women may be called so." When he said this, he was in fact claiming the titles for priest (which were in quite general use in the trance utterances, when the god addressed a priest) for his family alone. This esoteric tendency was again shown in his discussion of what spirits had entered the different trancers we had seen perform at a festival. "I Rantek [who went in trance and forced his way into the Pig Barong, danced in it round the temple court] was entered by a kala, the god (dewa) of the Pig Barong, a follower of the God of Dalem. Goesti Poetoe Soebali [a woman who spoke in trance] was also entered by a kala, the follower of the god of Jang Api (Kajang Apt) who has a shrine at the Poera Dalem. It was not the god of the Rangda who entered her [as on a previous occasion]. T h e one who was entered by the god of the Rangda was I Neka [a man from Pagoetan who wore the Rangda mask]; [that god is] also a follower of the God of the Poera Dalem. Anak Agoeng Mad6 Lentjod [a priest of the family] was not entered by the Barong Landoeng, but by a pepatih [minister] of the Barong Ketet. Djero Soka [a woman] was the one who was entered by the Barong Landoeng. Didn't she say later on [in trance] that it was the Barong Landoeng who had entered her? Anak Agoeng Oka [a young girl, also of the family] was entered by a follower from the Small House-Temple [that of the small 'palace' adjoining his own]. She has been for a long time a trancer. I Rapoeg was entered by a minister of the Barong K£t£t, a kala. And Goesti Made Gedjir [a boy of seventeen] likewise." Four of the eight trancers he mentioned were Goestis and his relations. But even to them he would not concede the dignity of being the direct representatives of the various gods. He stated that all were kalas or followers of the gods and Barongs, except the woman Djero Soka, who represented the Barong Landoeng, and

Dramatic Neka, the god of the Rangda of Pagoetan. Actually Neka himself did not claim to be entered by this god, but by a kala known as I Batoe, as everyone in Pagoetan recognized. Goesti Ngoerah was mistaken on this point. The important fact in his listings was the high proportion of the trancers identified with the masked figures— six of them were identified with one of the Barongs or with a Rangda. When we come to the account of the festivals in the Poera Dalem, which were attended by all three masked personages, and when we see what a large part they played in the trance ritual, we shall understand the significance attributed to them by the people of this district, and the parallel with the ritual of the Intaran district will become clear. Where in Intaran the sadegs attended a festival in a group, as representatives of the gods of their temples, in Tegaltamoe the Barongs and Rangdas attended, and it was through their agency that the trances were brought about. The magic power or tenget quality of the masked figures was particularly stressed by the people of Tegaltamoe. This was, of course, not uncommon, and one frequently heard the members of a group possessing masked figures boast, "Nowhere is there a Rangda so terrible as ours!" or "Our Barong is the most magically powerful." The Tegaltamoe family drew comparisons between the magic power of their figures as against those of the neighboring districts, Dendjalan and Pagoetan especially. With Pagoetan there was a certain interplay and cooperation, for one of the Pagoetan Rangdas "came from" Tegaltamoe, and the Pig Barong claimed her as his daughter. The association was sometimes competitive but not unfriendly. Once when the people of Tegaltamoe were contemplating giving a special offering (pewgeZefc) to the God of the Sea, as had been ordered in trance, Goesti Biang's comment was, "The Barong of Pagoetan has given a •pengeleb yesterday. Because he's already given it, the followers of Ratoe Ged6 Noesa [demons from the sea, who bring pestilence] will now come over to this side of the river. That's why we of Tegaltamoe must give the offering to the sea." The idea was that the demons, whose curse

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had been averted by the propitiatory offerings from falling upon Pagoetan, would be after them now. But one wonders if the Tegaltamoe people would have thought about it if Pagoetan had not set the example. With Dendjalan there was a more overt feeling of rivalry. Goesti Biang told me once, when the people of the village had ordered a new set of masks for the Barong Landoengs: "When they are ready, we shall all get dressed up and go in procession down past Dendjalan to the sea. The people here are angry with the people of Dendjalan." I asked her what was the reason for this anger, but she could not or would not give me an answer. Nevertheless, it was quite clear from her statement that they intended to score off Dendjalan and to make them jealous by parading before them their new masks and their most impressive show of finery. Probably because the two villages were adjacent, and both possessed a justly famous group of players and an elaborate performance, they went out of their way to outdo each other. At another time Goesti Biang related to me the stories of the ngerihang, or initial testing for magic power of the newly made masks, in Pagoetan, Pegambangan, and Tegaltamoe. All three of these tests were successful, she said, all three gave forth fire, but when the people of Dendjalan tested their Rangda, nothing came out at all! It was just not tenget. She discussed the relative greatness of the magic fire with considerable excitement. "When there was the ngerehang of the Rangda of Pagoetan, the fire was very small [the size of her finger], and it shot up to the sky. When there was the ngerehang of the Barong Landoeng at Pegambangan, a fire came out as big as my fist. But the fire which came out of the Rangda of Tegaltamoe was the greatest. It was as big as a cock-basket!" With gestures she indicated how the illumination spread over the sky. Goesti Ngoerah also told us the story at another time. His version was: "I was there when they made the ngerehang of the Rangda of Pagoetan. The Rangda [mask] was placed in the middle of the graveyard, and the man who was to test it was also there. When midnight

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came, there was an explosion (mekelepit) three times [making a gesture showing something shooting to the sky]. That was the sign that the Rangda was tenget. And when the Rangda here was tested, it was hidden under a pile of trash. Then the man who was to test it sat with arms folded, in a different place. If the man should give forth fire first, the Rangda is not tenget and is just thrown away. If the Rangda is first to give forth fire, that's all the testing there has to be. That is good. When the Rangda from here was tested, first she gave forth fire, and it rose up to the sky. And then the man who was testing it put forth fire, and his fists stiffened, and he took up the Rangda and wore it. The fire of the Rangda kept going up, and the fire of the wearer kept going down, and that was why no one dared to come near to the Rangda." Stories such as these were widespread. I could not judge if they were based on some stunt, a trick, or a feat of group hypnotism. I myself never managed to be present when such a manifestation was claimed to occur. I had planned to attend the nger^hang of the new Barong Landoeng masks and for months kept making inquiries as to the probable date. The people had promised to allow me to come. But at the last moment, I rather think by intention, they neglected to let me know. The ngerihang was by far the most secret of the rituals, and the attendance of foreigners was viewed with reluctance, perhaps because their very presence might mute the magic forces. Miguel Covarrubias remarked that the Balinese believed no lejaks can be seen by foreigners, since they "are shy and do not show themselves to outsiders," and that, in his experience, the people were not impressed by the bravery of a skeptical stranger who would walk alone at night into a cemetery.® The Westerner himself is possessed of power which makes him immune to the attack of lejaks; perhaps it was suspected that his very presence would interfere with the supernatural manifestations, if he should attend a ngerehang. However that may be, all three of the other white in' Miguel Covarrubias, Island 1937), p. 325.

of

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(New

York,

District vestigators with whom I worked did attend ngerihang ceremonies at Intaran and saw no supernatural manifestations at any of them, beyond the violent trances set off by the occasion. Other evidence of the high magic power of the masks were the trance manifestations whenever the Barongs were "taken for a walk." When the big odalan fedoedoesan, the most important festival of the year in the Poera Dalem, took place May 9-12, 1937, a part of the ritual was an excursion to the sea, about ten kilometers away. All the masked figures connected with the temple went on the mekiis. I Sampih, the little boy who had studied dancing under Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, was called back to Tegaltamoe for the five-day festival, in order that he might pay off his duty to the temple by dancing and participating in the ritual. He was therefore present at the mekiis to the sea, which I missed. He described it to me in the most glowing terms. "Oh Njonjah," he said, "you should have been there. The trances were terribly strong, and it was turbulent (rami*) as could be!" The festival began on May 9, and from the early part of the evening until midnight the people danced in the temple. Then the trance broke out, two Barongs and a Rangda had been "animated," and fifteen or twenty other trancers joined in the ιηέΐέε, attacking themselves with a kris, shouting and crying and leaping all at once. When at last things grew calm again, a shadowplay performance was begun, which went on through the night. The next morning at ten o'clock the people started out in procession, bearing their gods to the sea. According to Sampih's description, the procession was magnificent. First went the old men, dressed all alike in winecolored silks, and there were no less than fifty of them. Behind them came many men in gilded headdresses and woven breast-cloths, carrying the tall feathered spears. After these came four women in single file, also beautifully dressed, with golden flowers in their hair. Then a group of children bearing palm fronds decorated with red hibiscus flowers. They had a leader, an older man, who would call out, "Be silent," to the bovs, and thev would all be silent When he

Dramatic called out, "Shout!" they would all shout. Behind them came the Toping masks from Pegambangan. After these, the Rangda, the Barong Landoengs, from Pegambangan, the Barong Bangkal ( P i g ) from Batoer, and the Barong K£tet from Tegaltamoe. The masked figures were shaded with ceremonial parasols. They were accompanied by the marching orchestra, playing as it went. The entire household from the palace of the Goestis accompanied their gods —the Hermaphrodite priest, Goesti Biang and her husband, Goesti Adji, Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, the little boys, all of them—leaving at home only one old man, to guard the house. The procession was brought up by a long line of women carrying offerings for the god of the sea. And when they came to the shore, they set out the offerings along the beach, and those who wore the Barongs entered the sea, wetting their feet. Even the handles of the ceremonial parasols were wetted in the sea. For three hours they continued the ritual of the dedication of the offerings. Then they started on the return journey. The trail they took passes over the rice fields and through the coconut groves. But at a point some three kilometers south of Tegaltamoe their way led them through the village of Moentoer, onto the main road, thcnce past Boeitan and Dendjalan, the Palace of Batoeboelan, and on to Tegaltamoe. It was at Moentoer, at the point where the procession passed the great statue of a demon standing at the juncture of their trail with the main road, that the trances broke out. Sampih said that it was here, and just in front of the Palace of Batoeboelan, that the manifestations were most violent. (It may be mentioned that Moentoer was a village associated with Dendjalan, and that the Palacc of Batoeboelan was the closest rival of the palace of the Goesti family. We are reminded of Goesti Biang's statement of their intent to show off before Dendjalan, and we may take it that the spirit of rivalry and a certain amount of exhibitionism caused the trances to break out just where they did and not on the distant trail where there was no one to see them.) The first person to go in trance as they passed

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through Moentoer was the bearer of a ceremonial parasol. He cried out, "Pok-Pok!" hurling his body about, and threw the parasol to the ground. They gave him a kris, and he did ngoerek. Then a man playing a drum in the orchestra went in trance. He passed his drum to another and began to ngoerek. A man way back in the procession went in trance and came tearing forward to get a kris. He did ngoerek before the Barong. By this time ten or more men were in trance, swaying and leaping, and the male Barong Landoeng went in trance, the god entered into it, and it swayed and almost fell. He was followed by the Barong Bangkal, who called out, "Toot-toot!" rolling his head from side to side, and he kept on crying out He began to run and had to be held back. The Barong K£t£t staggered and wavered, and many of the entranced tried to force their way in under the coats of the Barong K£t£t and the Barong Bangkal. So they went on, all the three kilometers to Tegaltamoe, still waving their krisses in the air. And if they were exhausted, they were held up under the arms. When they came to the Palace of Batoeboelan, the turbulence broke out once more, and everyone did ngoerek. The procession turned off the main road to pass by the temple at Pegambangan, the home of the Barong Landoengs and the Topeng masks. There they dropped off the Barong Landoengs, and all the following made a reverence to them, to say goodby (mepamit). The rest of the procession continued to the Poera Dalem of Tegaltamoe. Once they had arrived there, the people tried to remove the bearers from under the Barongs. There was a great struggle. Inside the Barong K ^ t there was a terrific disturbance: the man did not want to let go. Five men were trying to remove him. It was only when the priest came, took the man by the throat, and choked him, pressing on either side of his neck, that he let go. After he was removed from the Barong, still he swayed. It was the same with the Barong Bangkal. The man who was in it, I Retig, had to be choked before he could be got out from under it. Then he took a kris and did ngoerek. He called out for a live chick to be

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sacrificed and would not be calmed until it was offered to him. T h e men were sprinkled with holy water and smoked over the brazier. All made a reverence to the Barongs. W h i l e this was going on, suddenly appeared once more the Barong Landoengs which they had left at their own temple in Pegambangan. Still in trance, the Barong had not wished to remain at home but had insisted on coming over to join the others. Sampih said, " H e didn't want to stay there, because his relations were here. Don't you remember how he [I Retig, possessed by a god and addressing the Barong Landoeng the previous night] called out 'Come, Father, come!'?" I have described this event from Sampih's story as he told it to me and from the written report I asked my secretary to take down from him in Balinese. It was evident that the boy, who was about thirteen at the time, considered the whole affair great fun, that he had enjoyed every moment of the "turbulence," and relished the more savage details of the trance seizures. But it was also curious to note how seriously he took the matter of the relationship between the gods of Tegaltamoe and the masked figure from Pegambangan. Although I had heard the man in trance calling out, "Come, Father," I had attached no particular significance to it. T h e cry had stuck in the mind of Sampih, and when, the next day, the Barong Landoeng came running over, he remembered the fact in explanation of this trance behavior. G M reported another festival held in the Goesti family's house-temple on January 10, 1938, when the Barong Bangkal, Barong K£t£t, and Barong Landoengs were "taken for a walk" (ngeloengaang). On this occasion also I Retig went into spontaneous trances, and he, together with two other men, animated the masked figures. At 6 : 3 0 in the evening the people were gathered in the court of the house-temple, making offerings and their reverences to the gods. Outside the gate, in the roadway, the vendors were seated behind their little tables, and about fifteen men were sitting about them, dallying over the buying of a penny's worth of perfume or a tidbit of refreshment. Among them was I

District Retig. Suddenly he got up from his place, as G M said, "perhaps already feeling queer," and entered the temple. He staggered a litde as though he were drunk, but he was not drunk. In the gateway he began to tremble. T h e n he ran to the pavilion where the Barong Bangkal was set out and got in under it. T h e people in the courtyard cried out, and snatched up a brazier and offered it to the Barong, and a libation of arak-berem was given to Retig in the Barong. Retig didn't say anything except, "Adoh, adoh!" He rocked the Barong, for they were a long time untying it from the cords with which it was suspended from the roof, and called out again, "Adoh, adoh!" Goesti Biang answered him, "Wait a moment, we are still untying the cord up here. If you want to go forth, we agree. Wait just a moment." Then the Barong got down from the pavilion, and Goesti Ngoerah Poedja ( a relation of the family, an excellent dancer) took the hind legs. It went outside and turned to the north, followed by a score of children. They were beating the alarm signal on the koel-koel (wooden slit-gong). For ten minutes the Barong ran back and forth in the road, and Retig called for tjanangs (betel offerings). He was offered tjanangs, and again he ran away, up and down, and came to the entrance of the temple. There he was given a segeh agoeng offering, and he entered into the court. Goesti Biang said, ' W h a t , have you finished your walk

(melantjaran), do you wish to go up (ngeloe-

woer [come out of trance]) now?" T h e brazier was given to the Barong, and Retig taken out. H e was smoked over the brazier, and the Barong again hung from the roof. Retig called out, "Adoh, adcAi," stretched his arms, and came to himself. ThA priest gave him a libation; then he really came tb himself. As soon as he was well conscious (inget melah) he went outside again and went home. This was at 7 : 0 0 P.M., twenty minutes after his initial outbreak in trance. T h e people in the temple continued with the ritual where they had been interrupted, smoking over the brazier the Barongs and the Rangdas. G M was told that this was "to wake them"

(ngatoerang tetangi). The Barong Bangkal was

Dramatic also offered this attention, although he had been so lively but a few minutes earlier. At 7 : 2 0 they began to dance femendak, the "reception" dance, while the orchestra played, offering to the gods of the temples Dalem, D£sa, Poeseh, and the house-temple QMeradjan), then to the Barongs and the Rangdas. After this they continued to dance the gabor figures. T h e Hermaphrodite priest was officiating, wafting the essence of the offerings carried by the dancers toward the shrines. T h e n he too began to dance, all by himself, using the fan with which he had been wafting the offerings. G M ' s comment was: "His dancing was extremely refined and like that of a woman. W h e n the gabor dancers danced, at each change of the music they changed their dance. But the Priest went straight on dancing like a woman." Goesti Poetoe Soebali ( a woman trancer) came up to him and wafted the offerings for which he danced. H e continued in this way for some ten or twelve minutes, while the other dancers came out in pairs, executing their formal figures. At last he stopped, perhaps tired, and stood there fanning himself with his fan. At 8 : 3 0 the dancing was over. T h e women, Goesti Biang and Goesti Poetoe Soebali among them, were seated on the offering pavilion, chanting hymns. Suddenly from without there came a cry, "Ratoe Ged£ from Pegambangan has come!" T h e men who were playing in the orchestra got down and ran out to see the Barong Landoengs which had arrived and stood outside the gate. From somewhere came I Djim, and he went in trance. H e ran to the Barong Bangkal and got into it. H e stamped his feet, crying, "Adoh, Adoh!" while they untied the Barong. I Retig—who had come back, it seems—got into the Barong K£t^t. H e too stamped his feet, calling out, "Hurry, hurry, Ratoe Ged6 is waiting outside!" As soon as they were loosed, the two Barongs went out and joined the Barong Landoeng. Together the three great creatures proceeded down the road to the Poera Dalem. All the people, young and old, followed, and there were more than one hundred. T h e sky was clear; not a speck of cloud was to be seen. W h e n

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they reached the temple, the brazier was offered to them, also offerings of segeh agoeng, and libations were poured before them on the ground of the court. T h e men still in the Barongs were smoked over the brazier. T h e three wearers of the Barongs, I Retig, I Djim, and I Kitjin, then spoke in trance, ordering the offering of pengeleb to be made to the god of the sea. W h e n they had made their utterances, they were smoked once more. They returned to the house-temple, all three still in trance. Outside the Poera Dalem it began to pour rain. All the people ran like mad, but the Barongs continued walking at their usual sedate pace. T h e rain was so hard that all were soaked. W h e n they reached the housetemple, the Barong Landoeng went on to Pegambangan, the Barong Bangkal and the Barong K£t£t went inside, and the wearers were removed from beneath them. Both I Retig and I Djiin were still in a tremor. One by one they were smoked over the brazier, and I Retig leaned over it for two whole minutes. T h e y were given arak and at last, at 9 : 0 5 , came to themselves. A final sprinkling and a final segeh agoeng ended the ritual, and there was a last reverence to the Barongs. Such was the ceremony "going for a walk," and no one doubted that the Barongs had much enjoyed their little outing. Everyone looked forward to the next one, which the wearers of the Barongs had ordered in the course of the trance and which would take place, they said, in fifteen days. These people seemed happiest when they were able to live in a continual stream of religious activity. T h e ritual existence of the masked figures called for frequently recurring ceremonies, and, through their acknowledged kinship with one another, the figures and their followers were kept busy attending one another's anniversaries. Often one festival occasions another by means of the orders communicated through the trance. Since I did not live near this village, it was difficult for me to keep a complete check on their activities; but in the course of nine months I was able to record two complete sequences of celebrations, which were either wit-

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nessed by me or reported to me in detail. They were as follows: April 29—May 9, 1937 (Dendjalan holds a ten-day feast to celebrate the renewal of their Barong.) May 9-12,

1937

Odalan Ρedoedoesan in the Poera Dalem of Tegaltamoe, attended by the Barong K£tet, Barong Bangkal, two Barong Landoengs, two Rangdas of Tegaltamoe, and one from Pagoetan; also a set of Toping masks. On the night of May 9 the Pig Barong, the male Barong Landoeng, and the Rangda from Pagoetan are animated in trance. A man also tries to get into the Barong K&t£t but is forcibly restrained, lest the coat of the magnificent beast be spoiled. A woman goes in trance and orders that the masks for the Barong Landoengs be renewed. The second day, all the masks go to the sea in procession, and three Barongs are again animated in trance. On the third day, the child Baris play is given, and the Tjalonarang play, in which the two Rangdas and the Barong of Tegaltamoe take part. On the fourth day a ritualistic performance of the sacred Toping masks is given. That night again the people go in trance in the temple, and Goesti Biang, possessed by the Barong K£t£t, speaks the desire of the god to visit Padangdawa. June 21-24,

1937

The Rangda is taken on the visit to Padangdawa, according to the order received from the god on May 12. Three days of the people's time is given over to this excursion and its resultant trances. At some time between this and the subsequent odalan, the rituals for the initiation of the new masks for the Barong Landoengs take place, also attended bv the people of Tegal-

District tamoe. These rituals include an initiation ceremony, Pasoepati, a testing, ngerihang, and the procession to the sea to follow. December 5-6, 1937 A smaller festival, the odalan pepoedakan, is held on the anniversary of the Poera Dalem. Again all the masked figures attend; the Rangda from Pagoetan and the Barong Bangkal are animated in trance. The sacred Τopeng masks are again caused to play at a performance in connection with this festival. Goesti Biang goes in trance, says she is possessed by the god of Padangdawa. January 5, 1938 The odalan in the house-temple of the Goesti family. It happens to be pouring rain, and so the Barong K£t£t and the Barong Bangkal are not allowed to dance around the central shrine as is their wont on this day. The gabor dancers perform just the same, in a mud puddle, their skirts lifted to their knees. Goesti Biang goes in trance, entered this time by the god of the house-temple, the "Ancestor." On this day twenty-four other households in the village celebrate the anniversaries of their house-temples. Of these, fifteen are Goesti families. January 9, 1938 (Pagoetan Barong offers a pengeleb god of the sea.)

to the

January 10, 1938 The Barongs go for a walk. It is ordered by them, in trance, that the people of Tegaltamoe should also give a pengeleb to the sea, fifteen days later. It is clear that the competitive motive was active in this district, although it was only rarely that the people allowed themselves to speak of it in so many words. Only Goesti Biang, who was, like the old women of Intaran, a voluble talker, was sometimes betrayed into a remark which

Dramatic

they would drop them off at their home on the return. Another day, when they went for a walk, the Pegambangan gods would call for them at their house, and they would go together to visit the temple. Through the trance utterances whole series of rituals were arranged, interlocking the interests of the various groups. In such friendly and unfriendly relationships the villages were continually stirred up to fresh activity. It was their own peculiar brand of religious conviction which kept the ceremonial so tremendously alive.

gave away the underlying feeling. 7 But the facts speak for themselves. When Dendjalan would renew its Barong, Pegambangan would decide to renew its masks. When Pagoetan would make a special offering, Tegaltamoe would follow suit. One thing would lead to another. When the Tegaltamoe gods would go to the sea, they would take along the gods of Pegambangan, and * For the benefit of those who know the language, I can quote this remark of Goesti Biang's, which is untranslatable: "Jen mtmdi-Mndi, fepesan djoemah tiang teken di Dendjalan."

ODALAN TRANCE

AT T H E OF

MEN

(FROM

9:30

P.M.

Mebakii

Toping

10:50

Memendak

CMeseed)

POERA AND

THE

DALBM,

WOMBN, NOTES

OF

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TEGALTAMOE,

ANIMATION JB,

CM,

OF

MM,

DECEMBER BARONC AND

CB,

AND

5,

1937 RANCDA

M l )

People are still bringing offerings and making their reverences in the temple. T h e Barong K£t£t and two Rangdas from Tegaltamoe are set out on the western offering pavilion Qpiasan); the Barong Bangkal ( P i g ) , the two tall Barong Landoeng, male and female, from Pegambangan, and the Rangda from Pagoetan are in place on the southern pavilion. The Tofbtg play, using the sacred masks, is begun in the space outside the temple. There are four players: Goesti Adji Mokoh, his brother Goesti Ngoerah Rai, his son Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, and one invited actor, Anak Agoeng Ketoet Gentir, who is a dwarf and a famous comic. In the audience are numbers of beautiful young girls, dressed in their best, who will later take part in the temple dancing. Rawa, priest of Pagoetan, is also in the audience. Goesti Biang greets me and sits with me during the play—the perfect hostess. When it is over she excuses herself to go home "to feed the actors," three of whom are her own family. The play is over. T h e priests bring out from the temple the ceremonial objects ( bebaktan ), especially the toilet tray (-pebersihan) and the wardrobe ( rantasan ) of the gods. T h e gods themselves are not brought out but are represented by these objects of their regalia. T h e priests and their assistants, men and women, form in line and circumambulate the temporary shrine immediately outside the gate (penggoengan) counterclockwise, three times around. T h e bearers of the regalia stand at the northeast comer of the space, and before them dance, in pairs, the white-clad priests and the gaily

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11:20

11:25

Mesegeh

12:00

Melts

12:15 A.M.

Mesegeh Metaboeh

agoeng

District

dressed young girls. They dance with the brazier, the holy water containers, and offerings, wafting the essence of each towards the representatives of the gods after each turn. There are eight priests present, among them the Hermaphrodite priest. He dances with his shoulders back, bringing the shoulder blades close together, as the older women do, and with one arm always extended backwards. His neck is very stiff and upright; he moves his hands before him in a very fluid mobile way. The effect is uncanny—these flowing hands on the rigidly constrained upper body. His face is set, proud and rather sad. Rawa from Pagoetan dances, and others of the priests keep drifting out again with a brazier, a water-vessel. There is a ring of spectators, left over from the audience of the play, remaining to watch because the dancers are so proficient. Goesti Biang has returned. She is in time to lead off the line of priests and dancers as they form again in single file and dance again three times round the •panggoengan shrine, this time in clockwise direction. In the procession goes the bearer of the pebersihan, shaded by two parasols. A segeh agoeng offering is dedicated on the ground at the foot of the panggoengan shrine. The regalia are carried once more in a circle round the shrine and into the temple court. In the court people are chanting. The orchestra is set out on a special pavilion. All the other pavilions are crowded with girls and women, very much dressed up, in their gilded sashes and with flowers in their hair. The floor of the court is also well filled with temple members and spectators, seventy-five percent of them women. The men tend to congregate on the pavilion where the orchestra is. Special guests from the village of P6dj£ng, ten or fifteen miles away, are seated on one of the pavilions, and Goesti Adji the father and Goesti Ngoerah the son serve them refreshments, as they do also to us. Between times the two hosts return to the orchestra, sit there directing and joining a singing part to the accompaniment for the dances. The purification of the temple with the long brushlike lis is performed with dancing. This is unusual. It seems that the Tegaltamoe people must make a dance performance of everything they do. As the little procession proceeds from shrine to shrine, Goesti Biang herself carries and waves the lis, dancing with grace and distinction. Two more segeh offerings are placed on the ground of the court and dedicated. This is followed by the ritual libation (metaboeh), which is also danced. Goesti Poetoe Soebali, a woman trancer, dances with one of the bottles. Thev cir-

Dramatic

12:25

Meseed (Ngigelang gegaloeh)

12:37

Gabor

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cumambulate the central shrine on which the gods are "seated." A priest climbs up a ladder to the central shrine and lifts down the god—a figure of ental palm with a face (pererai) of gold painted on wood, seated on a gold painted naga (mythological serpent). There is also an elaborate elongated silver dish Qpetjanangan) filled with flowers; and a pair of the litde figures called gegaloeh, made of fresh palm leaf and dressed each in a little skirt. They are said to be male and female; here they are treated as one and are bound to the breast of an older woman in a scarf which she wraps round her. A procession forms carrying the god, shaded by parasols, and the regalia. The orchestra plays the redjang music in slow tempo, and in single file they circle round the central shrine. The space behind the shrine is in darkness. The gabor dancers have gathered there, and, as the procession comes out from behind the shrine, they follow, advancing very slowly, with incredibly subde motions of the hands and arms breaking the monotony of the measured steps. They are ten minutes making a single round of the shrine. The gods take up their position at the northern side of the dancing space, held on the heads of their bearers. Here they stand throughout the time while the gabor is danced before them, until 2:05 A.M. T h e gabor dancing in pairs begins. It is characteristic of the festivals in this temple that one scene succeeds another smoothly, without a perceptible break nor those long trying pauses so common in other Balinese temples, when the whole order of the ritual is held up for the lack of some forgotten necessity. Here one feels the guiding hand of the Goesti family, which has everything organized and which quiedy and firmly controls every part of the procedure. Goesti Poetoe Soebali dances out alone, with a smoking brazier. She is joined by a priest, who dances as her partner. T h e gabor continues, the girls dancing in pairs, or at times with a male partner, or sometimes two litde boys together or two men, one coming out from the north side, one from behind the central shrine. With the appearance of each new pair, the music changes, Goesti Adji and Goesti Ngoerah giving the cues for the music best adapted to the style of the various dancers. They do not carry any offerings, but someone else picks up an offering and holds it before the gods, after each turn, wafting its essence towards them. Goesti Poetoe Soebali is often seen to dance by herself, immediately in front of the gods, weaving back and forth with a brazier

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2:05

Wangi

Mebakti

District

or a vessel of holy water, paying no attention to the others who continue with their formal numbers. Goesti Biang has come to sit beside me. She says she does not dance in this part, as there are so many young girls, and she is old. There are twenty young girls, down to little ones of ten years, all dressed in bright overskirts of green check, with trains passing between their feet, lined with brocades, their slender bodies bound in gilded sashes. Djero Soka, a beautiful woman born of low caste, but married into the higher caste, is one of the chief dancers. She is a prominent trancer, and was the woman who ordered [on May 9, 1937] the renewal of the masks of the Barong Landoengs. When she dances opposite one of the professional male dancers (also relations of our Goesti family, Goesti Ngoerah Poedja or Goesti Ngoerah Bend6sa), Goesti Adji sings the melody from a dramatic play to suit their dancing. A pair of men, one of them a priest, also dance a dramatic sequence, singing the words as they dance. A priest signs to the orchestra to stop as they have completed the rounds of dancing, presenting one set of offerings to each of the gods of the various shrines. The god, the gegaloeh, and the bowl of flowers are reseated on the central shrine. Before this shrine twenty men and women, chiefly members of the Goesti family, sit down for the wangi ritual which precedes trance. Each is given a leaf-container of sandalwood-water, which they lift and waft towards the shrine. Here they do not, as in other temples, drink it. Goesti Biang is not one of the group, though her husband is. She is still sitting beside me, and when they lift their joined hands, each holding a kwangein, for the reverence, I ask her why she is not with them. She says she has already made her reverence earlier in the evening. [Actually there are times in the ritual when the god is to be honored with a reverence from his subjects. The written instructions for the ritual suggest that all the subjects present should make the obeisance, but most often I have seen it done by only a few, who represent the entire group. It is interesting that here, when the wangi offering is given, as one of the Balinese secretaries put it, "to those who are to go in trance," Goesti Biang, the chief trancer of the temple, was not included. This did not keep her from going into deep trance later on. Once more we see the actual trance disassociated from one of the stimuli which is supposed to bring it about.] After this there is a slight pause. Goesti Poetoe Soebali, whom I had seen several times in trance, but did not know personally, comes over to Goesti Biang and me, and Goesti

Dramatic

2:25 Meseed

2:30

final

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Biang introduces her to me. She is a woman of thirty-five or forty, and with her is her adolescent daughter, who is one of the gabor dancers. The woman is a little shy; she says she does not know how to speak to me (a formal politeness often heard, a sort of blanket apology for any careless errors she may make in the high language, in which she feels obliged to address a white person). Except for the slight embarrassment caused by my presence, she seems competent and self-assured. The orchestra starts up again, the slow redjang music. The priests are forming in line beside the central shrine for the encircling of it which will lead direcdy into trance. The two women, Goesti Biang and Goesti Poetoe Soebali rise, excusing themselves saying, "I'm going to work" (wga;afe). They begin to dance at once, in front of the place where they had been sitting, slowly advancing across the court to join in behind the line of priests. The eight priests, including the Hermaphrodite and the priest who is the husband of Goesti Poetoe Soebali, lead the dancers round the shrine clockwise, and, as they emerge from behind it, they are followed by the long file of women and of young girls who were the gabor dancers, as before. The dancers have been round once. The orchestra suddenly quickens to the -pengetjit movement, the dancers break from their single file and come out two by two, weaving back and forth and crossing each other's paths with rapid steps and swirling motions. This is called the "stirredup" ( [ m e s e l a d o e h m ) movement of the dance. With a sudden commotion, a man runs across the court, climbs up on the pavilion to the south and gets in under the Pig Barong, snapping its jaws fiercely and rocking it to and fro. The people seated on the edge of the pavilion leap out of the way exclaiming. Two priests have bounded on to the pavilion and are holding the huge beast, whose jaws continue to snap, the sound reverberating in the court, for the orchestra has come to a dead stop. The man who has gone in trance is I Rantek. As they help the beast down to the ground, the music begins again in the slow tempo, the dancers keep coming out from behind the shrine. They are supposed to be still circling the central shrine, but several of them now seem to be oriented towards the pavilion from which the Pig Barong came and on which still sit the Rangda and the two great Barong Landoengs. Goesti Poetoe Soebali, in particular, comes forward and dances before the Rangda, her arm raised in the air, as if holding a kris, as if threatening. She weaves back and forth, circling upon herself, dancing with abandon and rather hysterically in the

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District

space before the Rangda, and the rest of the line goes slowly round. T h e Pig Barong, when it is on the ground, runs forward, making a dash, while the priests endeavor to hold up the rear of it, for there is still no one in the hind legs. T h e n a man, not entranced, gets in behind, and the Barong goes prancing up and down the court, snapping its jaws with a loud sound, which is particularly disquieting when the music happens for the moment to be still. As the dancing continues, the Barong also joins in the line and circles the shrine, looking fantastically large and cumbersome in the midst of the dancers. [Note that, at the previous odalan on May 9, the Barong Bangkal ( P i g ) had behaved in the same way, although the man in trance in the front of it was another, I Djim. On that occasion it so disturbed the dancers, knocking into them and frightening the girls, that the priest was forced to offer it what was called a pengelemper to quiet it. He prayed over it and sprinkled it, as it stood in the dark behind the shrine, and, "after this indeed the Barong Bangkal was willing to be quiet, and he did not run up and down as before."—GM] Now an older man, I Neka from Pagoetan, has come up among the dancers, he takes up a position immediately before the Rangda and dances there in place, his arms extended rigidly downward and to the side, like kris dancers waiting for a kris. He has a wild look in his face and is in a trance of the theatrical type. Rawa, priest from Pagoetan, is up on the pavilion, unpacking from a basket the Rangda costume. T h e priest hurriedly put clothes, striped trousers and a jacket with circular bands on the arms, on Neka. H e allows himself to be dressed, still maintaining his rather rigid pose with arms extended. Then he stalk-dances about a little in the space, turning about on himself. At this point the Pig Barong comes rushing from behind the shrine and bumps into him quite hard. Neka does not fall but is shoved aside as he dances. A priest holds a lighted brazier in front of the Rangda mask, still up on the pavilion. Goesti Poetoe Soebali is there, trembling violently. She lifts the Rangda mask high in the air, dancing in place at the same time. She looks as if she might be about to put it on herself. [Note that on May 9 she did go in trance and wear this particular Rangda mask, at the previous odalan, and on the last day of the festival, May 12, she was again entranced, and spoke as the god of the Rangda, Biang Agoeng.] Neka is immediately below her on the ground. She dances down the steps holding the mask. The priests take it from her, and place it over the head of

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Neka, who is still dancing. Both of them show symptoms of trance as they present the brazier to the Rangda. Neka now dances out a little into the court. He is stretching out his right hand to the side, wanting his magic white cloth. One of the priests comes running down the steps holding it out to him. Neka seizes it, as if this had been what he was waiting for, and dances off round the court. One of the priests is now up on the pavilion, leaning his head against the edge of the roof, supported a litde by another man. The Rangda and the Pig Barong continue to circle the shrine among the dancers. The Pig Barong comes round once again, followed by Goesti Biang and Goesti Poetoe Soebali, dancing themselves into a state. Of the two, Goesti Poetoe seems the further advanced towards the trance state. She stops again before the pavilion where the Barong Landoengs are still seated; she dances there in place; she again lifts her arm high over her head, vibrating it as if it held a kris. Then she brings it down and rubs the backs of both her hands down over her eyes and down the sides of her face, slowly, as if wiping away tears or an unpleasant thought. Her face at this time is twisted; she might be about to cry. She drops her arm to her side, standing before the Barong Landoeng. Then once more she raises it over her head in the threatening gesture and, on a sudden impulse, dances off around the court as the music stops. [My explanation of this behavior is that she may have been on the point of coming to herself, as the kris-dancers say they do when they go "in and out" of trance. The rubbing her eyes suggested an awakening. She may have been on the point of crying, too, for as we have seen from our Intaran observations, the women often do break into tears after their initial violent spasm at the onset of trance. During the crying period they do not show any other symptoms of trance, and it is possible that they may be said to have come out after the initial spasm and that the weeping is only the nervous reaction which follows it. If this is true, Goesti Poetoe would have been on the point of coming out, when suddenly she went in again with force, sufficient to carry her off dancing round the court, and to allow her to keep on dancing in the same rhythm, even after the music came to a stop.] The dancers are still circling round, the priests, the Barong, and the Rangda among them, as the music plays again. A young boy of seventeen, standing over near the gate on the west side of the court, rather away from the center of things, goes into a limp state of trance, crying. He is held by both arms. He begins to struggle and to fling himself about in a

88

Gianjar District half-circular movement. They continue to hang on to him, trying to restrain him. He is Goesti Gedjir. Goesti Poetoe Soebali has danced round the shrine once more. She sways drunkenly from side to side, and her knees bend. One of the priests on the pavilion, who showed signs of trance when the Rangda was taken down, is now definitely in trance, agitated by tremors. He is Goesti Madέ Lentjod. He takes up the two figures of the Barong Landoengs, one by one, but does not put either of them on himself. He places them over the heads of two men not in trance, and they too join in the procession circling the court, looming magnificently. By their very stature they add to the dramatic effect of the scene. Their behavior is not in any way erratic or unforeseen, and it contrasts with that of the male on the last occasion, when the wearer was in trance. Indubitably their participation in the dance helps to bring the others to a state of frenzy, even though their wearers are not entranced. As the dancers go round, Goesti Biang is among them, weaving her way in and out. There is a rather fixed look on her face, and she does not meet my eye as she passes. Her gestures are slow and correspond with her normal way of dancing, not yet wild and ecstatic as they are when she has achieved the final state of trance. The boy Goesti Gedjir has a sudden convulsion and falls to the ground. The other men are struggling to hold him. He is down on the ground with his legs stretched out before him; he kicks them and agitates his body in their grasp. The Rangda (Neka) who has been on the eastern side of the court dances down and approaches the groveling boy, as if attracted. Then she circles away, and back again, dancing near him. The music is playing fast. The whole pitch of feeling is rising. The Barong Landoengs are going round quietly. Goesti Biang comes dancing round with little prancing, hopping steps, her eyes closed. She seems to be nearing the climax. The Pig Barong is snapping his jaws. The music plays more slowly. The helpers have the boy Goesti Gedjir on his feet. They lead him over toward the dancing group. His eyes are closed: he walks like a somnambulist. They give him a little push to steady him, and he, very dazed, joins the procession going round the shrine. The music changes to the faster rhythm, and the dancers break for the last time into the "stirred-up" movement. The Pig Barong comes round in such a hurry it bumps hard

Dramatic

Artists

89

into the edge of the central shrine. It snaps its jaws viciously as if annoyed. Suddenly Goesti Gedjir has broken away from the dancers. He makes a dash up the steps of the western pavilion where the Barong K£t£t and the Rangdas of Tegaltamoe are set out. One of our witnesses thought he wanted to put on the Rangda mask, another that he wanted to ngoerek before her. The assistants leap up to take hold of him; there is a struggle at the top of the steps. The music stops. With a sudden yell, a young man, I Rapoeg, tears across the upper end of the court, dashes up the steps of the same pavilion, and stands there doing ngoerek before the Barong and the Rangdas. The music begins again. More people rush up to take hold of Rapoeg. Both he and Goesti Gedjir are lifted down to the ground, where they ngoerek. A woman shrieks, and begins to hurl her body about, seizing one of the priests who is near her around the waist. Immediately another woman goes in trance; she has a kris and begins to ngoerek. Simultaneously the music changes to the loud clanging rhythm called batil, which has no melody but beats and beats upon the ears with hypnotic insistence. All over the court the women now break into trance, screaming and thrashing their bodies till their hair comes down, making leaps from side to side. If they have a kris, they ngoerek; if not, they cling to the priests' hands or seize them round the waist till they are given one. The scene, now at its climax, is wild and lurid. The women's screams, shrill and high, have a quality of intense excitement, akin to a sexual excitement which can reach no appeasement. The first of the women to go in trance were Djero Soka, the beautiful one, and Ni Rekin. They were followed by Goesti Poetoe Soebali, Goesti Biang, the young girl Goesti Oka, and two old women in shabby black skirts, one of them from Pagoetan. These two had krisses and were intendy doing ngoerek before the central shrine, with great abandon, paying no attention to anyone. Goesti Poetoe Soebali continued dancing about wildly in the court. One of the others had sat down on the ledge of the central shrine. Suddenly she leaps up with a shriek and begins to ngoerek. The orchestra is pounding out the rhythm louder and louder. The priests are moving among the women with braziers and water vessels. The Hermaphrodite priest is sprinkling them. Both the Barong Landoengs are being led (either because they may be in trance or to get them out of the way of the frantic trancers). Neka, as the Rangda, goes to those who are doing ngoerek

90

Gianjar District and spreads his hands over their heads. The Barong Bangkal is brought down the court to a place west of the center, where he stands beside the Barong Landoengs. The Rangda, too, is led over beside them. All the women, except Goesti Biang (who never takes a kris, she says), are doing ngoerek. The priests give them all the usual attentions for bringing people out of trance: they sprinkle and smoke them and give them arak and palm wine, but they do not yet come out. ( M M noted that, while the men are watched carefully and disarmed if they grow too violent, no one feels the same need to watch the women.) The women continue to yell their unearthly yells and to leap from side to side, tossing their manes of hair. Goesti Gedjir is still doing ngoerek, his legs spread very wide. One of the priests approaches Djero Soka ( ? ) , takes hold of her around the neck from behind, as if to choke her. As he gets her under control, she puts both arms round his waist, holding on to him. Another of the priests is dancing among the trancers with a brazier (even this act of bringing them the brazier to rouse them from the trance is danced). Still another priest hooks his arm around the neck of one of the women, holding her as in a vice, to calm her.

2:55

Rangda is dancing among the trancers. She seems very small beside the great masks and seems to move among the trancers as one of them. Goesti Poetoe Soebali is standing near the Barongs. Someone is holding her by the arm. She is swaying her whole body, stiff from the feet up, like the needle of a metronome, to and fro, to and fro. At the same time she emits sounds like a Rangda, "Wha-wha—ah!" Then she dances forward. Rangda dances up the court. The young man Rapoeg is doing ngoerek. As he bends over backward, thrusting the kris at his breast, he backs into the Rangda, leaning up against her. Goesti Poetoe Soebali has her arms around Goesti Gedjir, supporting him as he continues to ngoerek. This is odd, as she is still in trance herself.8

" But it may be said that one of the characteristics of the Tegaltamoe trance festivals is the way in which the entranced are apt to get involved in some sort of physical contact, knocking into each other, rubbing up against each other (as the man doing ngoerek against the Rangda cited above) or clinging to the priests who are not in trance, holding on to their arms or thenwaists or throwing their arms around them. This sort of behavior is not at all usual between the sexes in the normal state. T h e priests also resort to physical contact to bring the subjects out of trance. Compare the de-

scription of the way the wearers of the two Barongs were throttled to bring tb^tri to themselves on May 10. On the night of this account we saw two different priests choking the women trancers into quietude. On the night of the previous odalan, May 9, K M , who was present, described the method for bringing out the trancers thus: " T h e method seemed to be that a priest came and placed his arms around the subject and clasped him or her to him while he muttered a prayer (mantra) into the person's ear or the top of their head. After this was

Dramatic

2:57

2:58

3:01

Artists

91

While Goesti Poetoe is holding up the boy, the priests come to him with a brazier and take away his kris. She sways off as if drunk. Now she finds herself beside the Rangda. They dance forward together, side by side (I think he has hold of her arm). Rangda's motions are very slow, as if running down. The music is still pounding out the batel rhythm. Three priests now come forward with mats to be placed in the center of the court, for the laying out of the offerings and the seating of the trance-talkers. As the mats go down, the music stops. The orchestra is still now and remains so throughout the following scene, until it is time for it to play again for more dancing (3:22). Things have quieted down very much, some of the trancers have come out, the others are seated in a row on the mats, facing a row of priests. Behind the trancers stand the two Barong Landoengs and the Barong Bangkal. Hovering over the heads of the trancers is the Rangda, dancing gently, waving her cloth a little, and giving very mild snorts. The Barong Bangkal snaps its jaws loudly. The man in it is still in trance, as is Neka in the Rangda. So are Goesti Biang, Goesti Oka (the young girl), Goesti Gedjir (the young boy), and Goesti Poetoe Soebali. All these are pretty limp, and have to be supported, except Goesti Poetoe. She sits up quite straight, her hands, palms up, loosely on her lap. Goesti Biang lies back in the arms of the man supporting her, rubbing her head against his shoulder as she turns it from side to side. She goes over forward, leaning way over, with her face quite in the brazier; then she throws herself back and lies supported by the man again. There are shouts of "Sit down, sit down." All the people in the court sit on the ground, for they may not be on a higher level than the gods.

done he slapped them briskly on the back of the shoulders and shook them; then they seemed to be released and were given holy water by one of the other priests. I saw at least four or five brought out by this method here." Compare also these notes I took of Goesti Biang on May 12, on the last day of that festival. She had stopped dancing and was at the point of her trance where she is seated on the ground before the shrine, with offerings before her, to give her trance utterances. There was a great crowd, more than two hundred people sitting or kneeling all over the floor of the court —for they are not allowed to stand in the presence of a god—and the god was present in Goesti Biang. She sat between two priests, with Goesti Poetoe Soebali, also in trance, a little behind her. "Goesti Biang wails and cries. She leans over the

brazier and puts her hands on it. T h e priests interrogate her. Now she is leaning on the lap of the first Priest; her hands are on his knees, and she continues her bemoaning motions, waving her arms u p and down and bringing them down on the lap of the priest. T h e n she puts her right arm around his neck and her head down in his lap. "Second Priest says to her, Tlease don't do that.' "She gives a long drawn out groan. She groans again and leans back against the second Priest. . . . [Here she gives the utterance, the order for the excursion to Padangdawa.] "She is leaning back in the arms of the second Priest, crying. W h e n the brazier is brought to her, she throws herself backward in his arms. . . . She raises herself and rocks from side to side."

92

Gianjar

Rangda, dancing, holds her tongue in one hand and a bunch of her feathers like a stole in the other, swaying slowly from side to side. A priest comes up to her, and she puts her arms around his neck and whispers to him.

3 • ΠΙ 1A :> :u iv2

^

3:07

District

A

Suddenly Goesti Biang gives a shout and calls out quite loud and clear, dragging the syllables into a complaint: "Adoh— Banja has come, Adoh—oh!" At the same time she throws herself back against the man. Then, leaning forward again, she gives the unnatural laugh of a trance, making a gesture with her left hand. She twists around, inquiring: "Banja has come, what's here? What sort of a reception is this? Adoh!" The priests answer her, asking her to speak more clearly, as they do not understand. Goesti Biang lies back and gives little loud sighs. brazier is brought to the Rangda and presented under the mask. Rangda still holds her feathers in her hand. Goesti Biang starts to struggle again. They hold her. She calls for her priests (calling them djoeroe sapoeh [sweeper] and sepermas). She announces that she is Banja, the god of Padangdawa; she orders offerings of three chickens, segehan of five colors. "Because my subjects are considerate of my shrine, that is why I have come down. Now do you know Banja? Don't be disturbed, all of you, there are a great many of you, may all my subjects take care of me, offering tjanang sari to me." She bursts into a sort of manic laughter, then dissolves into soft sobs. She leans forward, her face in the brazier. As she talks, she leaps twice or thrice in the air from her knees, then brings her face down into the brazier again. The Rangda mask has been removed. Neka drops to his knees, snorting and holding his hands before his chest, rigidly and about eight inches apart. [This stiffness of the hands is characteristic of Rangda's posture when she is dancing; she holds her gloved hands with the six-inch nails outspread, as she bends back and forth, raising and lowering them like great claws. It is not uncommon to see in a trancer who has impersonated the Rangda, either in a regular performance or in a spontaneous animation of her as Neka's tonight, this perseveration in the hand posture after the mask has been removed.] The boy Goesti Gedjir is lying back, his head loose on his neck. He looks quite exhausted. Goesti Biang talks with sharp intakes of breath. She is rocking her body, rolling her head. She lets her head fall straight back on the shoulder of the man. Goesti Poetoe Soebali suddenly makes a grumbling sound and lifts her hands to her face, with the palms out, in a face

Dramatic

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93

clearing gesture reminiscent of the one earlier described when she almost came out of trance. Neka is now able to get his hands together. He pulls them up under his chin, then holds them apart again and wiggles the fingers, as if he were just regaining feeling in them. He extends his hands, palms down (also a Rangda gesture) and speaks: Ί beg pardon, I Batoe [the demon possessing him] is upset Don't be hard on me! I Batoe is very busy." His hands are still outstretched, the fingers wiggling. H e snorts. Goesti Poetoe Soebali begins to roar like a Rangda and repeats the gesture of hands to face, palms o u t She gives a Rangda laugh. Her hands drop back to her lap. She continues in this way, making sounds impossible to describe— yells, snorts, and laughs—all very suggestive of the Rangda part, a very exact impersonation throughout. She does not say anything of any import. She calls for a coconut shell full of arak. [This is her particular trance clich6, for, as Goesti Biang told us on July 13, "the one who is entered by the god Jang Api [or Kajang Api] customarily drinks a coconut shell full of arak."] On this night, when they offer her the brazier, she says, "I won't have it, if you won't give me the coconut shell full of arak." T h e priests are not very polite to her; first they tell her there is none. Finally they present to her a coconut shell which contains only a little arak in the bottom. They say, "Go up, go up, this is all there is, take this." She drinks a sip of it and pours what is left on the ground before her. During all of this she is very violent, yelling and laughing by turns. The segeb. agoeng offering has been dedicated by the Hermaphrodite priest, assisted by three others. Each of these then takes one of the three chicks, which they pray over. One of the chicks is given to Neka to eat alive. H e reaches out for it, holds it in the air to pray over it, then pops it in his mouth with his characteristically exaggerated and theatrical motions, forcing burning coals into his mouth at the same time, and lapping at them with his tongue. T h e priests say to him "Don't do that." He joins his hands and leans over sideways, resting his head on the shoulder of the boy Goesti Gedjir, who is still unconscious. Neka cries, locks his fingers together, and brings them up to his nose, in a gesture which might be a warped version of an obeisance. As Goesti Poetoe Soebali, beside him, gives one of her unearthly yells, he looks over at her. He brings himself upright on his knees again as they offer him the brazier and a leaf-cup of arak. He lifts it and prays. He comes out of trance. Goesti Biang and the young girl are lying still all this time.

Gtanjar

94

Goesti Gedjir, the boy, is sprinkled and given the brazier. H e comes o u t A priest goes over to squat at the side of Goesti Biang. H e holds the brazier near her face and wafts the smoke towards her, talking to her reasonably. H e asks her to have pity on her subjects, to go up now, as it is late. She puts her hands on the brazier and finishes the gesture with a reverence. Goesti Poetoe has been given her coconut shell of arak. She puts her hands on the brazier and brings them up to her face. They are all sprinkled with holy water. Goesti Poetoe drinks it and puts it on her hair. Now they all come out of trance; they are given holy water to drink and to "wash their faces"; all make a final reverence. Everybody stands up. T h e priests are busy putting the Barongs back on to the pavilions. T h e court empties, as most of the people leave to go home.

3:18

3:22

District

T h e orchestra begins to play again, the music known as a tinkling melody sometimes used to Metaboeh (Mekintjang- mekintjang-kintjoeng, bring about trance, sometimes to follow it. In response to kintjoeng) it, two with a shrines Before

priests who have the libation bottles begin to dance prancing sort of dance as they approach the various and pour the libations out before them. the central shrine a mat is spread, and on it a set

of segeh agoeng offerings and all the regalia (behaktaan) are placed.

3:25

Mebiasa

3:33

Mesegeh agoeng

The Hermaphrodite priest climbs up the tall chief shrine and closes the doors. T h e dancing with libations finished, they now set about dancing with spears and parasols the so-called mebiasa. T h e music changes. Before the main shrine, a square is formed by two tall spears and two tall parasols, the spears and the parasols at diagonal corners, one of each to the north, one of each to the south. On each side, where the handles are stuck into the ground, offerings are laid out. One of the priests comes to dedicate the northern lot; then he moves over and dedicates the southern lot, sprinkling them, and spilling libations. Four men hold the handles of the spears and parasols. Two more men, one of them Goesti Mad£ the priest, dance with drawn krisses; they advance, one from each side, and pass each other; they are followed by the spear and parasol bearer from each side, who cross the handles as they pass. They repeat this three times. At the last time, the kris-bearers advance, meet in the center, and return each to his own side, while the spear and parasol bearers stay in place. T h e priest now dedicates the final segeh agoeng before the central shrine. Goesti Biang is sitting at the top of the steps

Dramatic

95

Artists

of the pavilion, her face in her hands. On a stand set on one side of the court, a set of offerings called daoenan (leaf offerings, like plates, and similar to those of the kawas ritual in the Badoeng district). One of the women from the household of the Goesti family is counting out coins, eleven for each of the visting priests who have been assisting and for each of the other officiants, including Goesti Biang. For the night's work each gets one of the litde plates and eleven coins, less than two cents in value). The officiating priest sprinkles himself first, then all the other participants. On the orchestra pavilion a man is calling the roll of the temple members, for a certain number of them must spend the rest of the night in the temple, to guard it. He writes down the names of those who are absent.

Mek£bat daoen

Mekemit 3:48

As we depart, Goesti Biang leaves with us and walks up the road with us as far as her house. She says that the gods will be put away in the early morning, at dawn.

Below is the synopsis of times for this ceremony.

SYNOPSIS

OF

TIMES:

Total time of attendance, from beginning of play to end of ritual Duration of play Duration of ritual Preliminary rituals with dancing Dancing leading into trance From beginning of this dancing until first trance From beginning of this dancing until climax, all in trance Seated phase, for trance-talk, and coming out Duration of trance from first manifestation until all are out Final ceremonies Individuals in trance: Goesti Biang Goesti Gedjir Goesti Poetoe Soebali preliminary state violent state total Neka

TEGALTAMOE,

9:30 9:30 10:50 10:50 2:25

DECEMBER

5,

1937

Hours

Minutes

6 1 5 3

20 20

3:50

A.M.

A.M.

A.M.—

3:50 2:05 3:00

A.M.

15 35

2:25

AM..—

2:30

A.M.

5

2:25

A.M.—

2:47

A.M.

22

3:00

A.M.—

3:18

A.M.

18

2:30 3:18

A.M.—

3:18 3:48

A.M.

48 30

2:52 2:43 2:39 2:52 2:39 2:38

P.M.—

P . M . —10:50 P . M . P.M.— P.M.—

A.M.—

A.M.— A.M.— A.M.— A.M.— A.M.— A.M.—

3:18 3:15 2:52 3:18 3:18 3:14

A.M.

A.M.

A.M. A.M. A.M. A.M. A.M. A.M.

26 32 13 26 39 36

96

Gianjar

DENDJALAN,

VILLAGE

District

OF THE BARONG

The village of Dendjalan was a no less lively center than Tegaltamoe with its frequently recurring festivals and dramatic performances, but the spirit animating these activities was as different as could be in the two villages. Where in Tegaltamoe we found an absorbing religious preoccupation, intense pride in the power of the gods of the temples as represented by the Barongs and Rangdas, and, in the leaders of the group, a thoughtful, mystical conviction, at Dendjalan these aspects were almost entirely lacking. Here the people gave the impression of a group of overgrown children, bursting with enthusiasm and good spirits, ready to expend their energies without stint—for the gods? No, for the joy of creation. They would have a play, and what a play! They would have a Barong, more gorgeous in his attire than that of any neighboring village. When he danced, pair after pair of the most accomplished executants would animate him. For two or three hours he would dance, and all the most sophisticated amateurs of the dramatic arts for miles around would come to admire the performance and sit smiling and nodding their heads in approval at the very excellence of the Dendjalan Barong. Very litde was said of his antecedents. The wood for his mask came from a tree at the temple Poera Dalem, and he himself lived in a litde temple CPererepan, sleeping place) of his own, adjacent to the large court, the meeting place of the club which owned him. But little stress was put upon the mystical side of his nature; the members of the club did not spend time discussing his kinship with the gods or his connection with the lord of demons, Banaspati Radja. They set about perfecting his costume and planning impressive kris dances to accompany his performance, which would do honor to them all as a dramatic group. Nevertheless, when the kris dances took place, from sixteen to twenty men would be seized with the desire to stab themselves in the •ngoerek motion, the wearer of the Barong and

AND THE

KRIS

DANCE

his special priest often would go into deep trance, and a sufficient proportion of those who performed ngoerek would be at last carried out unconscious, so that the final result was quite as impressive as that at Tegaltamoe, although entered upon in a so much lighter spirit. The young men who were the moving force behind the Dendjalan performances were very modern in their attitude. They left to the priests all the fussing over offerings and rituals which were the Barong's due. These things were no concern of theirs. But when a performance was scheduled, they were ready to give themselves up with youthful exuberance to making the show an unsurpassed success. The Dendjalan group was much more strongly a cooperative association and was not organized on the basis of acknowledged leadership by highcaste members and obedient acquiescence on the part of the remaining "subjects" as was the case in Tegaltamoe. The priests for the Barong belonged to the low Satryas (.Peredewa), the priest of the temple Poera Dalem was a man of low caste, and several of the chief actors and trancers were Senggoehoe, a branch of the low-caste people with a tradition of a specialized priestly function. But the heads of the Barong club were two men of low caste who managed its affairs, and all the members were on a footing of equality, regardless of caste, when performances were being planned. The pair of the prince's servants, Penasar and Kartala, who acted as comics and as translators of the prince's obsolete utterances into the vernacular, would be played, let us say, by a man of low caste, I Sogsag, together with a princeling bearing the high-sounding title of Anak Agoeng Anom. The priest of the Poera Dalem, a man of low caste, might take the part of the prince, while the Witch would be played by the old priest of the Barong's temple. But these two would take their parts only as members of the club, because their physical make-up and their technique was suitable, not because of

INTARAN

DISTRICT

Distinguished for its sadegs, trance mediums and trance doctors, whose services constitute an essential part of the religious ceremonies of the district. The mediums, some of them experienced older women, noted for their dancing, were held in high respect in their community. Photos by Jack Mershon

1. Djero Plasa, Koelit

Kajangan

2. Djero Plasa dancing

_

J

f

INTARAN

DISTRICT

3. Memen Gentir, sadeg the Poera ( t e m p l e ) Iboe Samping, an experienced woman trance medium Photo by Jack Mershon

5. Scene during a seance showing the ceremonial seating of the sadegs for the feast before going into trance. Photo by Jane Belo

of

4. Μ έ ι π έ η G e n t i r d a n c i n g Photo by Jack Mershon

6. D j e r o Plasa d a n c i n g in the temple d u r i n g a trance seance Photo by Jane Belo

7. Roekti

. Tompong

9. Masi INTARAN

DISTRICT

Sadegs, " s p o k e s m e n " for the gods, in characteristic attitudes Photos by Jack Mershon

) and 11. Djero Plasa and M e m e n Gentir dancing

12. Goja

18 and 19. Roenoeh

13 and 14. Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami

20. Siloeh Kompiang

VILLAGE

OF

INTARAN

SINDOE, DISTRICT

T h e children's djanger, a unique phenomenon of Sindoe, was initiated on the onlv half-serious suggestion of Katharane Mershon and within a short time became a part of the village religious ceremonies. T h e children, whose performance was a delightful imitation of their elders', were believed by the villagers to have been "entered" by the gods in the same manner as adults were. 1. A priest with ceremonial offerings loto by Jane Belo

2 . Scene during the children's hoto by Gregory Bateson

djangir

2 3 and 2 4 . T h e children's, djanger. Note the intense and serious interest of the children in the performance of their contemporaries as well as the expression of amusement on the faces of some adults. Photos by Gregory Bateson

2 5 . T h e children's djanger. Note how these untrained children imitate the stylized patterns of the Balinese dance.

VILLAGE INTARAN

OF

SINDOE,

DISTRICT

Photos by Gregory Bateson

2 6 . T h e baby dancers undressed. T h e youngest children would frequently lose part of their costume during the performance—to the great amusement of the spectators.

27. Goesti Ngoerah Majoen

VILLAGE

OF

TEGALTAMOE,

GIANJAR

28. Goesti Adji Mokoh

DISTRICT

Noted for its actors and trance practitioners, a family of highly trained specialists who emphasized finished, dramatic performances Photos by Jane Belo

29. Goesti Biang 30. The hermaphrodite priest

31. Goesti Ngoerah Majoen

3 2 and 3 3 . Roendah, who plays Barong

VILLAGE

OF

DENDJALAN,

GIANJAR

Performers in the tjalonarang Photos bv Jane Belo

. N j o m a n Gangsar, who plays Rangda . Mangkoe

D a l e m as Prince

3 6 . Poetoe Pande as

lejak

plav

DISTRICT

3 7 - 3 9 . Kris d a n c e r s w a i t i n g to go in t r a n c e Photos by Jane Belo

Dancers with drawn krisses )to by G r e g o r y

Bateson

44. T h e dancers poised to attack Rangda P h o t o b y E. S u t h e r l a n d

VILLAGE OF

Paired combat 3to by Less L i n d n e r

GLANJAR

DENDJALAN,

DISTRICT

T h e kris dance, part of the Barong and Rangda drama, performed bv men in trance during most of the sequence

46. Self-stabbing Qngoerek) by the kris dancers. Note the various modes of performing ngoerek Photo by Less Lindner

47. A trancer who has lost consciousness being carried from the scene, the Barong in the background 48. A trancer being forced under the elevated mask of the Barong, in order to bring him to himself

Photos by Gregory Bateson

49. Rata and Sedeng

Photos by Gregory Bateson

50. Moedera

VILLAGE

OF

DENDJALAN,

GIANJAR

DISTRICT

Kris dancers in trance, showing various self-stabbing ( n g o e r e k )

51. Sedeng Photo by E. Sutherland

modes

52 and 53. Rata Photos by Gregory Bateson

Kris dancers in trance, showing the boedjoeh expression

54. Sang Kompiang ( l e f t ) and Sedeng Photos by Jane Belo 55. D i w a Poetoe Merranggi ( l e f t ) and Sedeng held by a non-trancer

VILLAGE

OF

DENDJALAN,

GIANJAR

DISTRICT

Kris dancers coming out of trance

56. Sedeng being brought out of trance by Njoman Gangsar ( l e f t ) , half in trance, and Rena, assisted by a woman Photo by Less Lindner

57 and 58. Dewa Gede Senggoean coming out of trance. Note other men in different stages of trance in the background. Photos by Jane Belo

62. Njoman Gangsar (left) and Mongkog (Pemangkoe Kajangan)

63. Made Djaboeng holding a child

64. Sang Kompiang ( l e f t ) and Rai Sloka

VILLAGE

OF

DENDJALAN,

GIANJAR

DISTRICT

Players in the Barong and Rangda drama Photos by Jane Belo

65. D£wa Kompiang Meranggi

V

it

59. A dancer being " s m o k e d " to come out of trance

60. R o e n d a h , having b e e n taken out f r o m t h e Barong, being "smoked"

61. R o e n d a h , in a later stage, receiving holy water

Photos by Jane Belo

66. Rawa ( l e f t ) and the priest officiating at preliminary ceremonies Photos by Jane Belo 67 and 68. Rawa before the performance, showing interest in the Western visitors

VILLAGE OF PAGOETAN, G1ANJAA

DISTRICT

Veteran trance performers

6 9 - 7 1 . D£wa Ketoet Kelenang before trance. Note hands return to original position. Photos by Gregory Bateson

72. Mangkoe Tegeh before trance

73. Mangkoe Tegeh after trance VILLAGE OF GIANJAR

PAGOETAN,

DISTRICT

Woman kris dancers Photos by Jane

74. Ni Djantoek (right) before trance with the priest Anak Agoeng Njoman

Belo

75. Diwa Ketoet Kel6nang (left) and another man adjusting sisia's sash Scenes from the performance on December 16, 1937 Photos by Jane Belo 76. T h e covered pavilion where Dewa Ketoet Kelenang lay unconscious for fifty minutes before coming out of trance. Note G M at left taking notes.

77. T h e kris dancers fall down before Rangda the witch

78. T h e witch advances

80. They rush to attack Rangda

79. T h e dancers rise and draw their krisses

81. Neka about to "eat" a live chicken

82. Neka before trance 83. Neka about to stamp on Rawa's wound

VILLAGE

OF

PAGOETAN,

GLANJAR

DISTRICT

Scenes from the performance of December 16, 1937 Photos by Jane Belo

84. Neka and Renis in trance, G M ( r i g h t ) taking notes Note Barong in the background

85. Neka and Renis still in trance

86—88. Ngales, a female kris dancer, in trance, other women performers in trance states in the background

90. Players in trance

91. Kris dancers coming out of trance

92. A figure in the women's kris dance (compare men's kris dance, Figs. 43 and 4 4 )

93. Women trancers being brought out of trance pr··

VILLAGE OF PAGOETAN, G IAN JAR DISTRICT Performance of December 16, 1937 Female kris dancers were a unique phenomenon of Pagoetan. Girls and women participated for the first time at this performance because the research team requested it. Photos by Jane Belo

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9 4 . T h e little girls going in trance by the thumping with the sticks VILLAGE

OF

BAJOENG

GEDfe,

KINTAMANI

DISTRICT

T h e sanghyang deling is danced by little girls. T h e trance state is induced by having the little girls hold vibrating upright sticks attached to lines from which puppets dangle. Photos by Gregory Bateson 95 · T h e little girls falling limp as they go in trance

9 6 and 97. Sanghyang deling. Little girls dancing in trance. Most remarkable about this somnambulistic dancing is the way these untrained litde girls execute the intricate, stylized patterns of the Balinese dance while in trance.

VILLAGE

OF

BAJOENG

GED6,

KINTAMANI

DISTRICT

Photos by Gregory Bateson

98. Sanghyang deling. A little girl in trance dancing on a man's shoulders. During performances the little girls would frequently ask to be taken up on the shoulders of a man and, while balancing themselves there, would continue the dance movements—an extraordinary feat.

99. T h e little girl dancers of the sanghyang deling coming out of trance

100. "Smoking" the little girls to bring them out of trance

101. Sanghyang

VILLAGE

dedari

OF

( n y m p h s ) . T h e players impersonate nymphs without the use of puppets.

BEDOELOE,

C.1ANJAR

DISTRICT

Photos by Jane Belo

102. Sanghyang djaran (horse). In this sanghyang impersonation of the horse and the rider.

the man merges his

SELAT

DISTRICT

Folk trance sanghyangs, in which the players assumed the role either of animals, spirits, or common household objects, were confined to the Selat district. Performances took place only at night and consequently were difficult to photograph. Photos by Jane Belo

103. Darja, who performed the puppy, monkey, pig, and

sanghyang seripoetoet

104. Darma, who played the monkey, snake, and

sanghyang seripoetoet

105. Soekani, who played the pig, evil spirit,

sanghyang seripoetoet

106. Soekadi, who performed the sanghyang sembe (lamp)

107. Left to right: Diviner Seri Ada; the medium Kisid; the two boys, Kajoen and Loengsoer.

DIVINING

BY

USE

OF

TRANCE

T h e use of trance in divination is not confined to any one district. Balian Seri Ada in the district of Badoeng was consulted to try to discover who had stolen certain temple objects ( a r t j a ) . H e was assisted by his medium Kisid and two boys from the village where the theft took place. T h e priest from the violated temple accompanied them. Photos by Jane Belo

108. T h e same group with the priest, Pemangkoe Desa of Sajan

The Barong and the Kris Dance their priestly functions. And when the magical transformation was enacted, the prince became the Barong, and the Witch became Rangda, the masked figures were worn by other players, usually two men who had a reputation as violent trancers. It was a real sekaha (club) in the Balinese manner, where equality and cooperation of the members was the first rule. The bale bandjar, the club property, was the scene of the most lively activities of the community. This meeting place consisted of an extensive courtyard, with a large ceremonial gate; in it were several buildings, open pavilions for the seating of guests or for the sheltering of the orchestra during performances, and, in one corner, an expensive modern house with plaster walls, which served as a place of safekeeping for the instruments, costumes, and paraphernalia when not in use. Opening into this court was the single gateway of the Barong's little temple, which contained, besides the pavilion which housed the Barong, only a shrine to the Sun (Soerja) and one to the gods in general (Ring Loewoer). All day and all night throughout the year members of the club were detailed as watchmen for the property they owned in common. If at any time one passed through the village and stopped at the bale handjar which bordered on the main road, one would find from ten to fifty of the men, if not at work on the preparations for some community project, lounging on the pavilions, coming and going from the court, discussing the affairs of the day. When the car stopped, they would stroll out to the road and gather round, friendly and interested, ready to arrange a hired performance for foreign guests, or, if no financial deal was in the offing, to discuss some event, past or future, with equal eagerness. Almost all of the conversations I had with trance subjects of Dendjalan took place in a group, the various members sitting about and joining in, each with his contribution to the conversation. Even when I would attempt to achieve some private interview and would slip into the house of one of the trancers, having, as I thought, avoided the crowd, in a few minutes the court of his house would fill with other members of the group come to

97

participate in our chat, drawn by curiosity and with the friendliness of puppies. My connection with the group dates from 1931, when I first filmed their Barong and the trance of the kris dancers. In 1934 I again filmed the performance, which had by that time become well known to visiting foreigners and was still one of the most impressive to be seen in Bali. From 1936 through the early part of 1938 members of our group recorded both hired performances and temple rituals in Dendjalan, taking many photographs and more films. It is therefore one of the centers on which we have data extending over the longest period of time. The chief difference in the presentation in 1938 from that of my earliest records is the introduction of a Tjalonarang play (the Story of the Witch) into the middle of the Barong and kris-dance play, cutting it in half as it were. In 1931 there were two distinct plays to be found in the various districts of Bali. The Barong play proper began by the dancing of the Barong, was continued by the introduction of masked dancing figures known as Djaoek, then the appearance of the Rangda, a battle between the Barong and the Rangda, and finally, the rushing on to the scene of the men with krisses, in ordinary dress, with their loincloths trussed up between their thighs, who might or might not execute a formal "kris dance" before they went into full trance and performed the self-stabbing motions of ngoerek. The Tjalonarang play was a quite different performance. It was the story of a Witch who by her powerful magic laid waste the land, causing illness and death to many people. It began with the appearance of little girls in formal costume who danced a long series of patterned figures as the Witch's pupils. This was followed by the introduction of the Witch as an old woman in ordinary dress (a man disguised); then by a sequence of comedy scenes, including the birth of a child in full view of the audience, burlesqued burials, and so forth, at which the lejaks, the Witch's pupils in their evil form, attacked the unfortunate refugees from the land besieged by pestilence; and finally, by the attack

98

Gianjar District

of the King's Minister upon the Witch herself, now transformed into the Rangda. The Dendjalan group and, at about the same time, the neighboring group from Pagoetan incorporated the two plays into one. T h e Barong danced first, alone, and then together with a variation of the Djaoek masked dancers known as Jak. These masked dancers were said to substitute for the Witch's pupils, who were omitted from the Tjalonarang play. T h e rest of the Tjalonarang play followed. At the end, after the attack of the king's Minister on the Rangda, the Barong reappeared to fight the Rangda, this time representing the Minister transformed into supernatural shape. After his failure to defeat her, the men with krisses rushed out to attack the Rangda. They too failed. Rangda retired, leaving them, by her magic power, in a state of semitrance. These men then executed the formal kris dance, dancing in two lines as in a war dance, brandishing their krisses, and then breaking into figures of paired combat. As the excitement mounted, many fell on the ground. The Barong came on the scene again to arouse them, snapping his jaws over them. They leapt up then in violent trance, attacking their own bodies with their krisses, and were joined by members of the crowd who dashed into the center, also to

do the self-stabbing ngoerek.

The change in the Dendjalan performance was made in 1936. As we know, it was the custom for any changes in rituals or ritualistic performances to come about by someone's stating in trance the order from the gods that the change was to take place. The phrase in general use for such a command uttered in trance was "at the desire of the gods" Qsaking ρekajoenan widi). One day, some six months after the inauguration of the new performance, when we were sitting about discussing it with a number of the members of the group, I asked who had thought of it, if it came "at the desire of the gods." Made Djaboeng, one of the two leaders, answered: "It was at the desire of the gods, and also at the desire of the club." How different is this answer from the one we should have had from the leaders of the Tegaltamoe group, members of the

Goesti family. T o them the desire of the gods would not rank equal in importance with the decision of the gods' subjects and would have needed no ratification on the part of those who were to carry out the orders from on high. The story the Dendjalan people told of the origin of the new play was as follows: At a temple festival the priest of the temple Poera Dalem, and another man (whose name they could not remember as it was too long ago!) went into trance and gave the order. They began to rehearse their parts, all contributing their ideas of how it should go and without calling in any teachers from the outside. They also made a new Rangda mask. When the time came for the new Rangda mask to be given a trial (ngerehang), "a man called I Krotjot [brother of two other trancers of the group] was to test it. They went to the middle of the graveyard at midnight. In three days he fell ill. He was cared for perhaps a week; then he died." They did not go into any details of fire issuing from the mask, as in the stories of the Tegaltamoe people. It will be remembered that our Tegaltamoe informants claimed that "nothing at all came out of the Dendjalan Rangda" when they had their trial. The impression of GM, who took down the conversation at Dendjalan from which I have quoted, was that the mask was "insufficiently powerful," otherwise the man who tested it would not have died. It was in the early part of the year 1937 that the club decided to renew their Barong and their Rangda masks, of which there were three. For the Barong they made an entirely new coat of shredded fiber (braksok), all new leather trappings, covered with gold leaf and studded with stones, and the masks of both the Barong and the Rangdas were scraped and repainted. The preparations took a good month, and during all this time the bale bandjar was the scene of feverish activity, all the members hard at work upon the costume and the masks. When they were ready, their initiation was celebrated by a ten-day festival held in the bale bandjar and in the Barong's temple, with many offerings given there and at the Poera Dalem temple, a procession to the sea

The

Barong and the Kris

(mekiis), a cockfight, much feasting, and performances of the shadow play (Wajang Koelit) and of the Gamboeh play. Twice in the course of the ten days a Brahmana High Priest was called in from another village to officiate. And it was only on the tenth day that the renovated Barong was allowed to dance. It was on this occasion that he played for three and a half hours, animated by one set after another of the most famous Barong dancers of all South Bali, the local experts as well as players called from the villages of Mengwi and Blahbatoe, ten and twenty miles distant The audience was one of the most distinguished that I ever saw in Bali, and all of the princes who fancied themselves connoisseurs as well as the more famous teachers of the surrounding districts watched throughout the performance with rapt attention. No trance manifestations accompanied this dέbut One of our informants from Dendjalan, a trancer by the name of I Rena, recounted the renovation of the Barong in these terms: "When we cut off his head [moenggal, which refers to the separation of the mask from the old coat and trappings], we sent home the god who was seated in the Barong. When the god had been sent home, we scraped and then painted [the mask]. Now, because he is to have his head joined to the new body ([ngatep) he has first to be brought to life (tweoerip-oerip), and the god brought into him (ngeraoehang) since earlier we had expelled the god (.ngeloearang)." The bringing to life included a Pasoepati ritual performed on the fifth day, the same as the initiation ceremony for a new Barong, the offerings given at the temple Poera Dalem by the High Priest, and a visit to the foot of the tree near the temple, from which the wood of the mask was originally cut, so that the Barong might "make a reverence" there.® Then the Barong "went home" to his own little temple, and received as a feast the fiodalan offerings which had been prepared for him. Rena said of the three Rang* Goesti Ngoerah Majoen of Tegaltamoe told us, when outlining a similar routine for animating a mask, that after the Pasoepäti ritual the mask was taken to the tree from which the wood was cut "to invite the spirit (tonja) of the tree to enter it."

Dance

99

das that since the joining had been done at the Poera Dalem temple, they should also have the testing ( n g e r i h a n g ) of them there, but that so far "nothing had been done about it." The people of Intaran and Sanoer considered it compulsory to have another ngerihang after any work had been done upon a Rangda mask, but the people of Dendjalan simply overlooked the whole matter. For the first three days of the ten-day festival for his renewal, the Barong of Dendjalan had as a guest in his temple the Barong ( Κ έ ^ ί , lion) from Moentoer, a village a mile or so down the road. It was said that this Barong was invited to be a witness (safes») to the ceremonies. He also received offerings and full honor from his own subjects who accompanied him and from the people of Dendjalan. T h e relationship of this Barong to the Dendjalan Barong was accepted by the people concerned, without their troubling themselves to specify on what grounds the kinship was based. Originally we were told that he was a relation because the two masks were cut from the same piece of wood. But this was later emphatically denied by the priest of the Dendjalan Barong. When we asked if any of the Rangdas of Moentoer—for the Barong brought three with him when he came, to match the three of Dendjalan—were related to those of Dendjalan, the answer was, ' I f Barongs are related, then the Rangdas are related too." This was taking a much more simplified view of these matters than was usually accorded them. Patently the people of Dendjalan were not interested in the mystical origins of the Barong and Rangdas. But it must be said that they got on very well without this interest. What we might call their worldly attitude produced quite as successful results in the rituals, drama, and trance manifestations as the more earnest approach of our friends in Tegaltamoe. The freedom from any sort of discipline and restraint which the Dendjalan group enjoyed lent to their festivals that rather jolly, casual, and haphazard quality characteristic of Balinese communal activities. It was one of the features which gave them great charm and which created

100

Gianjar

for the newcomer the impression that they were a happy-go-lucky lot, playing at their religious games. Anyone attending a festival in one of the Dendjalan temples could not fail to remark the clowning spirit introduced by many of the dancers into the temple dances. Where in Tegaltamoe all was carried out smoothly and with dignity, in Dendjalan the participants seemed first of all to be enjoying themselves. T h e dancers would come out two by two in the gabor figures, circling the court with an offering to be presented to the god. They were as expert as any dancers, they would tum and posture with utmost grace, then suddenly for no reason at all one of them would decide to be comic, and in a flash the whole court would be rocking with laughter, and the solemn ritual would become, for the moment, something of a farce. At an odalan at the Poera Dalem temple I noted: " T w o women of about fifty, N i Mernes and Desak N j o m a n , do a burlesque of the dance. T h e y do the well-known tricks of the clowns in the plays, dance forward, stop dead in the dance sequence, cover their mouths with their hands as they laugh, and the audience joins in. They walk around each other, without doing the accustomed steps and postures. [An actor out of his part is always screamingly funny in Bali.] Desak N j o m a n has a very ugly face. N i Mernes starts the fun. G M had the impression that Mernes was teasing the other woman, because she wanted to dance and could not. Mernes is a good dancer who is just being comic. G M ' s comment was, 'She dances like a man.' W h e n they have circled the court a few times and all the audience is laughing, Mernes goes to the priest who will dedicate the offering. Desak N j o m a n comes striding across the court to take the offering from Mernes. T h e way she wafts it and drops the tjanang (betel offering), her ugly face so solemn, is somehow very funny." T h i s sort of clowning was not at all uncommon and was as frequendy seen in the young people and the children as in the older people. In Dendjalan it was the custom for the children to take part, and they did not need, as at Tegaltamoe, to be previously trained. They were at

District liberty to enter into the dancing and to do the best they could. At the festival just quoted, at one time there appeared fourteen adolescent girls, from thirteen to fifteen years old, seven women, and four little girls, aged from five to eight. One of the children, the tiniest one, had to have her hands placed in the positions by a woman who danced behind her, instructing her as she went. A litde later, I was sitting on a pavilion surrounded by a group of litde girls from six to eight years old. T h e children were begging me for cigarettes. Suddenly, the trance broke out all over the court, women screamed, men shouted, krisses were drawn, and altogether twelve or fifteen people began to leap in every direction, stabbing at their chests. My notes say, " T h e litde girls go on busily asking me for cigarettes as the trancers go off, and I pay no attention to them. They shout at me over the hubbub, even slap me to attract my attention." They seemed completely unconcerned over the trance manifestations which we found so impressive. But that the children were not at all oblivious to the manifestations they witnessed was evidenced the next day in connection with the same festival. T h e Barong was dancing outside the temple, and a Tjalonarang play was scheduled to follow. T h e Barong played such a very long time that at about seven o'clock, when it was just dark, I went into the temple to see what was holding u p the rest of the performance. In the outer court the players were sitting, still discussing what play they would give. I went on into the inner court. There I surprised ten litde boys of about five years of age playing at doing ngoerek, some of them stabbing themselves with sticks. In the temple court were two old priests arranging the offerings. When they saw me they called to the children to stop, but until that time they had apparendy found the children's behavior not too unseemly for the inner court of the temple. T h e attitude of the children reflected that of the adults, and, except in the ultimate state of frenzy which some of them achieved, the approach of the adults to their activities was hardly

The

Barong

and

less offhand and flippant. W e took down the record of the conversation the members of the group were holding at the time the litde boys were practising ngoerek in the temple. T h e Barong had begun to dance at 5 : 3 0 P.M., worn by pair after pair of the dancers from Dendjalan and from Pagoetan (whose people also attend the festivals at the Poera Dalem of Dendjalan). T h e actors for the Tjalonarang play to follow were slow in arriving; and at about seven o'clock those who were present were sitting about discussing what they might do with the talent at hand. They seemed to think that, because the performance was not one for which they would be paid but a voluntary one for the benefit of the temple festival, not all of the regular cast would turn up. T h e discussion was as follows: Sog sag: If it's a performance without money, it's always like this. G o look for Mad£ Lama, and, if you see Djiwa, tell him to come too. W e w e g : Haven't they come, the ones who are to dance? Sogsag: N o , they haven't come. Oh well, have the Barong once more until Mad£ Lama and Djiwa come. Weweg, you can be Raroeng [a Rangda-like part, that of the Witch's chief pupil]. Renteng: W h a t shall I be? Sogsag: You can be a Djaoek [masked figure]. Another man: W h a t shall I be? Sogsag: You can be a woman. Still another man: I'd rather be the one who steals her. [This is a pun on the expression "to steal a woman," which means to have an illicit love affair.] Sogsag: T h e story takes place in the Forest of Teroeng. It happens that the Witch has died [moksah, that is, departed this earth without leaving a body]. Raroeng and two others of her pupils remain. That's the story to be told in the Forest Ratjem: Who is concerned in the story? Sogsag: Raroeng, Lendi, and Waksisia. While the Q u e e n [the Witch] was alive, Raroeng was her eldest relation. N o w her ruler has departed, Raroeng becomes ruler [as] she is the eldest relation. Like this, we'll tell [in the play] how

the

Kris

Dance

101

we want to bring vengeance. You, sister [as Raroeng] will be the ruler who wants to devastate the country of Daha. Sogsag: Aren't there any Ujak [masks] in the Barong's temple? Poetoe Sadra: There aren't any. I just came from there. Sogsag: Where are those Ujak [masks] with earrings? In the Barong's temple there is a Ujak like a Rangda. G o get that one. Weweg, you be the follower of the balian [native doctor]. W h a t sort of women shall we have? Wouldn't it be good to have them like sisias [the litde girl pupils of the Witch]? Ratjem: W h o will be Penasar [a clowning servant of the nobility, who with his partner Kartala, makes clear the story by translating into jokes in the vernacular their high-flown language]? Sogsag (who himself often plays Penasar): Sadnja, you dance; you be Penasar. If M a d e L a m a comes, he can be Kartala. Sogsag was definitely directing the performance, although he was not the chief ( k l i a n ) of the group. In the absence of the two priests who generally played the parts of the Witch and the attacking Minister—then busy no doubt attending to the offerings required for the temple festival—Sogsag had the idea of eliminating the Witch, who was the chief character of the Tjalonarang play. It was as if a group of children said, " N o w we will give the story of Little R e d Riding Hood, but when the play begins, the Wolf is already dead." T h e substitute witch, Raroeng, however, was to play the same role, "devastating the country." O n this particular day the cast was made u p of whatever players were available and included several from Pagoetan village. I Renteng from Pagoetan played the part of the King, and, in the repeated dances of the Barong, I Debot, I Gedjir, and I Ompog, all from Pagoetan, took their t u m wearing the Dendjalan Barong figure. T h i s collaboration of the members of the two rival groups occurred because both villages belonged to the Poera Dalem temple of Dendjalan.

102

Gianjar

It was a head temple, and, besides Dendjalan, five other bandjars ( w a r d s ) had membership in it—Batoer, Pegambangan, Telabah, Pagoetan North, and Pagoetan South—although some of them had Poera Dalems of their own. W h e n the anniversary of the big Poera Dalem came around, they all had to contribute and to help in the festivities. T w o of the Rangdas from Pagoetan would "go home" to this temple at festival time, just as one of them went to the Tegaltamoe festival. It was surprising to find the players from Dendjalan and Pagoetan cooperating in such a friendly spirit, even at one time I Ompog from Pagoetan dancing as the front legs of the Barong together with I Roendah from Dendjalan as the hind legs. As a rule the two villages were jealous of one another. T o w a r d the end of 1937, when Pagoetan had become famous as a place for foreign guests to see the Tjalonarang play and the kris dance and was therefore encroaching on the business which Dendjalan had held for so many years, the Pagoetan people complained about their neighbors. T h e village of Pagoetan did not lie on the motor road, and the trail leading to it went off at right angles to the place where the Dendjalan bale bandjar stood. Guests arriving in automobiles had to leave their cars at this point and walk. T h e Pagoetan people said that, when the cars would stop at Dendjalan and the guests would inquire the way to Pagoetan, the Dendjalan people would tell them they did not know the way, even that they had never heard of such a village. T h e r e was a certain tenseness in the attitude of the Dendjalan people toward a young man who used to be one of their chief players and who became a member of the Pagoetan group. W h e n we were inquiring if any of the trancers of Dendjalan had stopped being trancers and, if so, for what reasons, they said there was only one case, that of D έ w a Poetoe Tantra, who had married out of the village and gone to live in Toeboeh, a bandjar contributing to the Pagoetan temple, Poera Dalem Babian. T h e y said: " H e has become a sentana [a husband who becomes a member of his wife's family] in Toeboeh, and

District that village is far from Dendjalan." ( T h i s ness refers to distant feeling, for actually villages are contiguous. It is not uncommon Balinese to use this expression to mean "we not friends.")

farthe for are

W e asked: " A n d now that he lives in a different village, if he should come to watch a performance and he went in trance, what would happen? W o u l d he go ahead and ngoerek?" Rena, a trancer, answered: "If he went in trance, he would not be allowed to ngoerek, the bandjar would drive him off." Djaboeng, the leader of the group, said: "We'd run him off! It's not allowed! W e wouldn't let him!" T h e force with which M a d 6 Djaboeng spoke was good evidence of the solidarity the group felt, especially in its relations with a rival group. For as a rule it was considered rather a triumph for Barongs or Rangdas if strangers in the audience would go into spontaneous trance at their performances. It was supposed to show their magic power, and the event was usually cited with great pride by the group whose masked figures had occasioned it. Probably because D e w a Poetoe T a n t r a had deserted their group and joined that of Pagoetan, they would no longer have welcomed his participation. It was curious that, although this young m a n was a prominent trancer in Dendjalan, we did not once see him go in trance at the Pagoetan performances. T h e Dendjalan group had a sense of solidarity as a company and a sense of the fitness of things. T h i s was evident in their opinion concerning the trances of women at their performances. T h e y were opposed to the idea of the participation of women in the Barong play. It had struck us that at all temple rituals, female members went into trance, but that at all plays and hired performances they did not. W e asked: " W h a t sort of times do the women go in trance?" R e n a replied: "Well, if it's not an odalan, the women don't seem to want to go in. If somehow it should happen that any women went in trance, as for instance if there were tourists hir-

The Barong and the Kris Dance ing the Barong play, then the women would be moved off to another place or taken into the temple court." He also said: "One time there were some women who went in trance, but I've forgotten their names. They were taken into the temple court and brought out of trance. That was at the odalan a year ago. Now and then there are women who go into trance, even as many as ten, but they don't ngoerek, all they do is dance, and some of them talk [in trance] about the country." Rena had been present only two days before this conversation took place when four women took krisses and performed the self-stabbing ngoerek, as both GM and I recorded in our notes. At every odalan we ever witnessed at Dendjalan, either at the Poera Dalem or at the Barong's temple, no less than four or five women had gone in trance and done ngoerek. Rena's statement, therefore, can be interpreted as that

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of a male trancer who firmly believed that to do ngoerek was a masculine prerogative. The Barong groups we had seen did not include women in the accompanying trances. An exception occurred at Pagoetan where, because we asked for it, a group of women did take part and go in trance and stab themselves. The Dendjalan group believed that women did not belong in the Barong play. Their statement of what they would do if the women suddenly decided to enter into their show was more evidence of the ruthless disregard they had for any sacredness attaching to the trance state. Although the gods and the demons were supposed to be present in the bodies of the entranced, the individual trancer had to behave in the way that was expected of him, otherwise nobody would have had the least regard for the fact that he had been entered by a supernatural spirit.

RENA

Of the young men who were kris dancers in 1938 not quite half were the same as those I had filmed in 1931. One of these was I Rena, who was at that time a very beautiful creature, extremely slender in build, with a delicate, straight-nosed, elongated face, high cheekbones, and a high forehead from which fell away masses of black hair that reached to his waist. He often danced at the head of one of the two lines, executing the warlike dance with lifted knees and slow, poised, advancing steps like those of a heron. When he went in trance, he hurled his body into the ngoerek motions, bending his back into an arc as he pressed the point of his kris against his breast, tossing his long hair, and, with a wild look in his eye, emitting great throaty shouts from lips extended like a singer's. He had a flamelike quality, fiery and yet delicate. At the end of his performance, it was not unusual to see him lying quite unconscious in the arms of men supporting him. On one of my earlier films he is seen held up by

two men who are endeavoring to keep him upright, while he dangles limply between them, his legs and arms like those of a rag doll, his head thrown back on his slender neck, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful as that of one asleep. The smoking brazier and the holy water are administered to him to bring him out of trance; he opens his eyes, comes to himself, rises, and walks rather dazedly out of the picture. On January 30, 1937, I recorded the behavior of Rena after he had performed ngoerek and been carried into the temple to be subjected to the routine which would bring him out of trance. Of some twenty performers who had been in trance or simulating the motions of trance, five were still unconscious. All were lying out in the arms of assistants. Rena's legs were doubled under him, his feet turned backward and his ankles crossed, so that he sat upon them. His slender calves were pressed back into his thighs by the position. This formed what looked like two points, as if calf and thigh were

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one piece. His upper body was thrown backward and lay in the laps of the men. T h e points, of calf and thigh together, had a spasmodic, rhythmic, up-and-down motion, much like that of copulation but very restrained. There were pauses; then he would recommence. His arms did gyrations, thrown out from the body, down, sometimes touching the knees, the hands not clenched or outspread but relaxed. From time to time he would let out a shout, a "Hoo-hoo!" sound (like the one he emits when doing ngoerek), at the same time stretching out his arms and letting them fall on the rhythmically rising legs. He would mill around against the men supporting him, but not so much as the other trancers. The priests were offering them live baby chickens to bite, and Rena was not one of the first to be given one. But he heard, apparendy, the chickens' peeping, for when they came to him, he leaned forward, bending almost double over his crossed legs (still in the same position), took the chicken, and bit off the head. Then he threw himself back again against the men behind him. I had a glimpse of his open mouth with blood on it. For a few minutes he continued the same motions, the rhythmically rising thighs, the thrashing body, and the extended and dropped arms—but always restrained (not like the hulking man opposite him who, when he wanted the chicken, hurled himself down flat on his side, kicked, and had to be forcibly held by several men). A woman came to Rena with the holy water. He was lying back with his face turned up, so that he could hardly have seen her. She cast water on him quite freely. As soon as he felt the drops on his breast, he rose up a little from the waist, and held out his arms stiffly, palms upward and fingers outstretched, in the ritual position for receiving the blessing. He fell back again and in a still more restrained way continued the motions as before, especially the leg motions. He seemed not to want to come out of trance. The brazier was then passed to him; he leaned forward and breathed in the smoke. T h e woman came to give him holy water. He

acted as in a daze. She instructed him as she might a litde child, 'Tut out your hands." He cupped his hands, and three times he received the holy water to drink, three times to bathe his face and put it on his head. He arose and walked away from the crowd. In a corner of the court a man stood holding a lamp so as to illuminate the Barong who was about to depart. Another trancer who had just come out was standing by him, his back to the crowd. I saw Rena go and stand about twenty feet from the lamp, as far as possible from anybody, but facing towards us. He stood, looking dazed, like someone just awake, looking around him as if he might be saying, "Where am I?" and without much caring. He blinked his eyes. He stood there a few seconds. Then he walked over to the lamp, for no reason, as one does in a daze, and stood for a moment with his back to the crowd. The other trancer who had been there was now sitting on the steps leading to the inner temple. Rena came and sat beside him on the steps with knees apart, hands on knees, as if very tired. He put his head down in his hands and stayed there to collect himself. Finally he got up and walked back to the crowd, where I was. I spoke to him, and we exchanged a few words. His voice and whole manner were those of one extremely tired. Whenever I saw him in trance, Rena was always one of the very last to come out. He was not sturdily built, his chest was slightly sunken, and he had a tendency to cough. He himself said that after going in trance his "body is sick for three days," he felt exhausted and could do no work. For this reason, he had more or less given up going into trance, and at other festivals I witnessed in Dendjalan during that last year he did not again go in. When a play was performed, he acted a chief part in it, and at temple rituals he generally played in the orchestra. He was, therefore, almost always present, and, if he did not go in trance, it was because he had made up his mind that he would not do so. Rena's personality was not forceful, but shy, modest, extremely cordial, and helpful to others. When I began intensive investigation in Dend-

The Barong and the Kris Dance jalan, he at once became great friends with my secretary, GM, who was equally shy and gentle. T h e two would hang on to each other, their arms passed around each other's necks, and, when we visited Dendjalan, Rena was never far from our sides, answering all our questions and identifying for us the other trancers. Rena told us that his mother died when he was nine years old. He had married and had two children. Shortly after the birth of the second child, his wife and one of the children died. It was his elder brother who had tested the Rangda and had died ten days later, supposedly from the effects of it. The Balinese regard such a string of misfortunes as ill luck which has unaccountably been visited upon them. According to Rena's own statement, when he was a litde boy, he loved to play at going into trance. He would take the spine of a coconut frond and pretend to do ngoerek with it, "but I did not go in trance. [It was] when I was a youth (troena) [that] I went in trance for the first time, and I was unconscious for three hours." He told this in the presence of other members of the group, including the wife of the priest of the Poera Dalem, who remembered the event and confirmed his statement. The others said, "He has always been long to come out." And the priestess, who was herself a trancer and who came out with great ease, put in, "Some take long, some take short!" She would not credit him with any advantage because he went into such deep trance.

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they emerged, two by two, in perfect formation, and executed the dance, which might last for ten minutes before they began the self-stabbing

ngoerek.

I asked the question: "When they first come out from the temple, are those who ngoerek already in trance?" Before Rena could answer, Madd Djaboeng (the head of the group, not a trancer) said: "Not from when they first come out of the temple, at that time they are half

conscious [in a daze, ngeramang sawa, an ex-

pression referring to the glazed eyes of a corpse and applied to people who sit dreaming and inattentive]. When they begin to tremble, that's when they really lose consciousness. All they remember is their anger and their desire to stab their own breasts, to kill their own bodies."

W e asked: "And when they are stabbing their own breasts, are they not even a litde conscious of themselves?" T o which Rena answered: "Not at all. I do not remember myself (awak) even a litde bit; all I remember is the desire to stab my breast." G M : And if you have no kris, and, for instance, you try to get one from someone else, can't you remember who gave it to you? Rena: At such a time I don't remember myself at all. For instance, if my headcloth should fall off and someone picked it up and did not return it to me, I would not be able to remember who it was who picked it up. W e asked Rena if he had any sensations, such as of prickling or numbness in any parts of his Rena was one of those trancers who claimed to body, or any particular sensation at the spot near be during the preliminary kris dance "in and the clavicle where he applies the kris. He said out" (.malih. inget, malih ten, once more con- he had none, but that his whole body felt sick, scious, once more not) up until the time when but not more in one place than another. they finally lost consciousness completely. As W e questioned Rena on the method of comthe performance was given in Dendjalan, the ing out, which they call ngeloearang, expelling kris dancers squatted quietly at one end of the (the god or the demon). His response was: performance place while the battle between the "When a person is smoked over the brazier, it is Barong and the Rangda was enacted. When the called the expelling. But he does not come to Rangda stuffed her magic cloth into the Barong's himself until he has received holy water." mouth, a sign of his defeat, the men drew their G M : What does it feel like when you have krisses, dashed upon her, and followed her as just been sprinkled with holy water? she retired into the temple. Then from the gate Rena: When you've had holy water, then for

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the first time you feel like a person who has just awakened and got up from his bed. These statements of Rena, which we collected a month after the performance at which the observations of his trance behavior noted above were taken, correspond with them remarkably well. During the preliminary kris dance one could not be sure if he were in trance or not; there was a trancelike quality in his expression, but the perfect coordination and obedience to the fixed pattern of the dance seemed incompatible with an absolutely disassociated state. Later, when he did ngoerek, he seemed quite carried away in his frenzy, as if indeed he were possessed with the single passionate desire to stab himself. When he fell unconscious, all indications pointed to complete forgetfulness and to the state of being "outside himself." The impersonal quality of the trance is well illustrated by the example he gives of the dropped headcloth, for it would certainly not be to his personal interest to lose it. And his response to the presentation of the brazier and the holy water was very definitely in accordance with his introspective statement. After being "smoked," he still continued the motions of the trance state, although they diminished in violence; it was only after receiving the holy water that he seemed to "wake," and his subsequent behavior was in every detail 'like that of one who has just got up from his bed." It is interesting, when one knows the depth of the trance he practiced for so many years and the modest, unassuming quality of his personality, to find that he was not only a very talented actor, but that he regularly took the part of the Balian (native doctor) in the Tjalonarang play and in this role went through a burlesque of a trance seizure. The Balian's part was that of a woman. Rena appeared, dressed in a woman's skirt, with a scarf tied round his breast and his head done up in a cloth. So amazingly good was his representation that, when I first saw him do the part, in 1937, I did not recognize him. At the time I knew him quite well in his own personality, or, I should say, in

his trance-dance personality, for I had twice singled him out to be the central figure of the films I took in 1931 and 1934, and had in the interval seen him again and again on repeated projection of the films. From the moment that he came on the scene as the female Balian, his every gesture was exaggeratedly feminine. He kept his knees bent, protruding his hips, and bending forward from the waist a little to simulate feminine curves. Although the part was a comic one, his figure was at the same time willowy, and he managed to give an impression of underlying feminine grace as he went through his antics. It was a very different presentation from that of the female impersonators who play the serious roles of beautiful princesses. Theirs was a stylized performance, intended to create the illusion of beauty personified. But Rena's role was more difficult, for he had to create the illusion of a female whose gestures were slightly off key and yet did not tend towards the masculine. In this attempt his mimicry was superlatively successful. On one occasion he held the scene for thirty-five minutes, sufficient evidence of his success with the Balinese audience, for they were apt to walk away when they were bored, and a comic actor who was not "going over well," as soon as he sensed restlessness in the audience, would cut short his part. The Balian's act is worked into the play in this manner: The land is beseiged by pestilence, through the malefactions of the Witch, but the people, who are oppressed by these evils and the attacks of the lejaks, the Witch's pupils, do not know who is causing the trouble. In scene after scene the troubles of the unfortunate refugees from the afflicted land are portrayed, including the woman giving birth to a child on the road, while the masked figures of the lejaks, supposedly invisible to them, play tricks upon them. At last the people decide to consult the Balian to find out what is at the bottom of it. She goes in trance and names the Witch. They also beg her for a charm to enable them to see the evil spirits, and a riotous scene follows in which the lejaks are pursued (often chased up a neighboring tree), caught, and unmasked. They are

The

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forced to admit that they are pupils of the Witch. When the news reaches the King, he sends his Minister to attempt to kill her. According to the Dandjalan version of the play, it is chiefly through the information divulged by the Balian in trance that the plot can move to its dramatic ending. T h e following was recorded on the day that the play was given without the Witch: Rena, as the Balian, entered walking with a stick, and was followed by an attendant (played by I Weweg, another trancer, younger brother of Rena). They danced a burlesque feminine dance; then Rena was seated before burlesque offerings and a lighted brazier. The petitioners, other comic characters, gathered around. In the offing were the masked figures of the lijdks. Rena took a flower, and lifted it, praying: "Oh Lord God of Dalem, I offer you purifying objects, be pleased, Lord God, to look upon this your support (tapeJwro) in Bali." He bent over double, bringing his face and hands down close over the smoking fire. He rocked his body and rolled his head from side to side over the brazier. Then, as he continued to roll his head, he began to jig his body up and down. In two minutes he pretended to be already in trance, threw himself over backward, lifted his arms, and slapped his thighs. He called out, "Adoh!" (the pain word) and cried; he rolled around from the waist, in a circular motion, emitting a strange yowl punctuated by stopped breath, thus: "Yiaw—aw— aw!" He began to speak, calling the name of a god, Ratoe Ged6, and finishing with an exaggerated theatrical laugh. His attendant asked the others what their petition was. Rena: It's hard, it's hard. You send one away, and two arrive. You send two away, and three are left. That's the state the country's in. Now D6wi Kresna (the Witch) is already dead. Penasar: Now the country is at ease because D6wi Kresna has gone to heaven. Rena: How is it? It looks as if they were all gone, and three are still left. Penasar: Yes, indeed. And who are they who remain? Rena: There are still three. Of those who re-

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main, the first is Raroeng, and there are two more pupils. They are the ones who are making the pestilence in the land. That's it, Uncle, so that Uncle may know all about it. Raroeng's plan is that the kingdom of Daha shall be wiped out (telah), the illness shall not cease. Rena was now sitting supported by his attendant. He had his hands on his knees and was seated on his feet, in the position of a woman kneeling. (Compare his position when in trance, p. 103.) He swayed back and forth. The pseudotrance lasted four minutes. Then, with a slow and impressive gesture, lifting his hand and letting it come down slowly on the offering tray, he pretended to come to himself. He picked up something from among the offerings and prayed. Then at once, with quite different, nervous, "silly-woman" ways, he continued his burlesque of a woman now out of trance. He lifted a rice patty, inspected it, put it down, and crossed his arms on his breast, his hands under his armpits (a well-observed feminine attitude). He sat up straight and turned his head to the side to speak to Penasar. By such little details he managed to convey that the Balian was once more present. The lejaks had been pestering the Balian's attendant. Then they approached the tray of offerings and stole it. The group noticed the disappearance of the offerings. Rena, frowning, looked as worried as he often does in his own personality when something goes wrong. He peered out from under a constricted brow, blinking his eyes. All stood up. A lejak came up from behind and poked Rena in the bottom. He stuck it out in a bump, curving his back, as he moved off. At this the crowd was in hysterics. They continued this clowning for another quarter of an hour. Rena danced, a mock-graceful dance. He took a flower and, standing with one foot in the air, prayed over it, making the charm which would enable them to see the lejaks. Finally, when the lejaks had been pursued and caught, he stood over them, with knees bent, pointing a finger at them and scolding them, for all the world like an angry old woman berating a group of wicked children.

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It was often said that in Bali nothing was too sacred to form the basis for a comedy scene. It was not uncommon for such burlesques to involve even the stately Brahmana High Priests. In one play we witnessed, such a dignitary was officiating at a wedding, when, in the middle of the ceremony, the bride was overcome with labor pains and gave birth to a child. Rena's rendering of the Balian's trance divination was therefore not more daring than the conventions allow. But it was especially interesting that an individual who would throw himself with such ardor into genuine trance should be willing to mime it for the sake of comedy. On the whole, there was a good deal of correspondence between his gestures when he himself was coming out of trance and those of the Balian as he portrayed her. The chief difference was the great speed with which she went in and came out, which, compared with the length of time it would take him to come out, was in itself a humorous point. Any motions of the thighs suggesting sexual activity were also conspicuously lacking

District in the Balian's trance, although the license which the Balinese theater afforded would not have made them taboo. If he had thought of introducing them, they would no doubt have created a furor, for Balinese audiences were quick to grasp such sous-en tendus. Probably Rena was quite unconscious of these motions when he himself was in trance. There was not the least confusion in his mind between real trance and the one he put on in the play. One day when I was questioning him about his part, and he thought I had misunderstood the significance of it, he said: "But that's not going in trance, that's acting!" T h e fine artistry of Rena's dramatic performances and the fact that, although not in very good health, he was able to sustain his scenes over an extended time place him in the front rank as an actor. His case constitutes some of the strongest evidence we have that the tendency to disassociation goes hand in hand with acting ability and that a predisposition to the one may include a predisposition to the other.

WEWEG Rena's younger brother, who also played a comic woman's role as the Balian's attendant, was I Weweg, one of the most violent of the Dendjalan trancers. He had been a member of the group and a kris dancer during the period covered by our records since 1934. T h e violence of his seizures increased rather than decreased with the years. There was at the same time a rather studied quality in his performance, which made it not as convincing as Rena's, and he was one of the subjects one would have liked to test for "genuineness" when he was at the height of his trance seizure. Unlike Rena, he was a young man of sturdy physique. When he hurled himself into the trance motions, he performed what were actually feats of physical endurance, and the muscular exertion he put himself through when "in trance" would have left a weaker man in a state of exhaustion. Weweg often came out

of his trance with apparent ease and seemed to be no more exhausted than would be a healthy young man after a brisk workout At other times, however, he displayed the well-known stubbornness of trancers when they refuse to come to themselves, performed all manner of antics as he called for this or that offering, and would not be appeased until the crowd acceded to his wishes. Weweg was of rather less than medium height, quite plump in the belly, with powerful shoulders and well-developed arms and legs. He was never beautiful to look upon. Though his nose was aquiline, his elongated face seemed to be drawn down toward the protruding mouth, and his lower lip hung open, giving him an expression of amiable slow-wittedness. In the normal state he seemed a very good young man, a hard worker, considerate of others, one who

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never pushed himself forward nor made a nuisance of himself. As an actor he was only adequate; he joined in the clowning, but did not attract attention either by the wit of his performance or by any outstanding characterization. On different occasions we also saw him join in the temple dancing at the festivals. The style he affected for this dancing was independent, masculine, and athletic. He spread his legs very wide and lowered his body almost to the ground as he bent his knees. When he did the prancing advance with lifted knees, it was a vigorous step; there was no mincing and no fluttering of hands like those of the more refined (.aloes) dancers. His version of the temple dance would make a strong contrast to that, let us say, of the Hermaphrodite priest in Tegaltamoe. T h e striking feature of his trance performance was also its independent quality. He had a way of separating himself from the other trancers, finding a place to himself where he could go through his trance act without becoming involved with them. He was, we found, apt to orient himself by a given spot, facing a shrine or a temple gate, and there to begin and continue his powerful ngoerek motions, paying no attention to others and requiring no attention from them. The isolation he thus achieved was quite different from that of Rawa from Pagoetan, whose case will be taken up in the next section. Rawa managed to attain isolation in the center of things, to make of himself the hub of the whole proceedings, so that the other trancers were a circle of less violent performers turning about him. Weweg's position was to one side, out of the turmoil or on the rim of it, where he appeared to devote himself to the concentrated effort of his own private seizure. His behavior did not indicate a desire to make a show of himself through trance so much as an earnest attempt to force the act upon himself, unmolested. If he were not in trance, he seemed to be motivated by some very urgent desire to establish between himself and the power of the gods a contact which would bring him release. T h e following notes were taken of him at the

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odalan at the Poera Dalem temple, May 15, 1937. The dancing of the gabor figures, which had begun before we arrived at the temple at 10:00 P.M., had continued for one hour and twenty minutes. Among the dancers were six temple priests, a number of young girls and children, and seven or eight older women. In the audience which filled the court we saw several of the young men most prominent as kris dancers in the Barong play. Others were playing in the orchestra. Reversing the order followed at Tegaltamoe, after the gabor dances the people took the gegaloeh puppets and danced in line circumambulating the central shrine. W h e n this was done, most of the young people, the girls who had been dancing and the young men, decided to go home. The court emptied; of perhaps one hundred and fifty spectators only about forty were left. The orchestra stopped playing. One of the priests called out for it to go on. The line formed again, once more circled the shrine, then filed out the gate to the outer court and circled the shrine of the small gods, Kajangan Api, which stands there. One old woman, sixty to seventy years old, was already dancing alone, over to one side of the court, as the other dancers filed in again and continued around the central shrine. They stopped. The priests began once more to lead off the line of dancers. Suddenly there were shouts, and people went in trance all over the court. 11:29 P.M. One young man, Weweg, goes at once to a place immediately in front of the Main Shrine, where he dances and does ngoerek quite alone, facing the stone wall of the shrine and paying not a bit of attention to the contortions of the others all about the court. Five women are doing ngoerek and three of the priests. Then more join in, until 11:31 fifteen in all are doing ngoerek. 11:35 The assistants are pouring libations on the ground at the feet of the trancers. They already have the brazier and are presenting it to the trancers to bring

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Gianjar them out. T h e first one to be attended to is a priest. H e puts his hands and face in the brazier; then he is sprinkled. O n e by one they are brought out, leaving only W e w e g dancing and doing ngoerek u p against a wall of the shrine. H e dances from side to side with his back to everyone. ( T h e assistants are having some difficulty with the women, two of whom are rolling on the ground

11:39 11:40

11:42

and have to be held and supported.) W e w e g , perhaps sensing that those who are bringing out the trancers will come to him next, moves over from his position before the M a i n Shrine to one immediately in front of the Soerja shrine ( t o the S u n ) , which is next to it, and where he continues to dance and to go through the stabbing motions of ngoerek. H e is making inhaling sounds and grunts which I can hear when I come near him, but it is quite dark where he is performing. H e has been dancing violently and doing ngoerek without a pause now for ten minutes, which seems a very long time. H i s body is wet with perspiration as if from a bath. ( T h e people succeed in bringing out the last woman trancer.) T h e bringers-out now go to Weweg, before the Soerja shrine. A priest calls for arak. Weweg's two arms are extended over his head; he is holding u p the kris in his right hand, as if threatening. T h e inhaling sounds are very audible. W h e n they present the brazier to him, he gives u p his kris, puts his face and his hands over the brazier, then brings his hands to his face. H e is sprinkled, and drinks holy water. H e makes a reverence to the shrine; puts sandalwood water on his chest, crossing his arms across his breast in a special ritual gesture; then turns away from the shrine, and sees me standing there, touches my hand. H e seems to know me. Someone says, "There's more [ritual]."

District W e w e g : N o , that's all. It's finished. J B : W h a t is your name? W e w e g : I'm Rena's younger brother, I Weweg.

11:45

J B : W h y did Rena not go in trance? W e w e g : He's playing in the orchestra. H e is smiling, and terribly wet. But his breathing is now normal, and he does not seem at all exhausted.

O n this night W e w e g was the only one of the young men who regularly performed with the Barong to go in trance. In fact, he was the only man not a priest who did so. T h a t he remained to go in trance showed a special interest in or desire for it, for all the others of the customary trancers whom I had spotted in the audience earlier in the evening removed themselves from the scene before the trance began. His behavior was very similar at the subsequent odalan at the Poera Dalem, held December 11, 1937. By this time a good friend of ours, he met us at the car and accompanied us to the temple, served us refreshments during the dancing, and afterwards left with us when we went on to see what was happening in the neighboring village of Boeitan, where they were also holding an odalan. T h e scene in the Dendjalan temple was much the same as the last time, the young girls and the older women dressed in their best, dancing the gabor together with the priests and some of the young men. T h e r e were fourteen temple priests present this time. W e w e g was one of the dancers. Again the girls and most of the young people went away after the gabor was finished. At 11:28 P.M. the fourteen priests and eight older women began the dancing in line around the central shrine. By 11:40 they had repeated this three times, with slight pauses between, but the encircling was irregular: sometimes they went round more than once before they came to a stop. A young priest, I Olas from Pagoetan, was jumping in his dance. At the third time the line broke up; and, as it formed again, and they danced round, one of the women ( a priestess, Mangkoe T e g e h ) circled away from the line,

The

Barong and the Kris Dance

dancing independently—a sign of nearing the trance state. She circled round and came up behind a priest who had a kris stuck in his belt. She drew it out and, with a high pitched shriek, burst into trance, beginning at once the selfstabbing motions of ngoerek. T h e time was 11:42. T h e orchestra, taking its cue from this woman, changed at once to the clanging rhythm called batil. In half a minute more two priests had drawn krisses and were doing ngoerek. Then one by one the others came in until there were in all five priests and Weweg besides the woman. Weweg took up his position as before in front of the Main Shrine and did ngoerek there facing it, independendy and in isolation from the others, who were shouting and leaping all over the court. W e had with us that night a skeptic, a man of the Brahmana caste, Ida Bagoes Teroewi, from the "distant" village of Batoean. He had accompanied our group to serve as Balinese witness to the ritual. He gave it as his opinion that of the seven individuals performing ngoerek only one, the woman, was really in trance. He said the others were ngoenjing ( a synonym for ngoerek, referring to the activity of self-stabbing) but not keraoehan (entered by a spirit). His explanation was that the others were doing ngoerek "in order to make the ceremony complete," in other words, they were going through the motions of being in trance because the rules of the customary ritual indicate that at this point people should go in trance. It is significant that in this informant's village, which was strongly dominated by the Brahmana High Priests and families who lived there, trance was not customary in the temple rituals. When at a Barong performance the young men performed ngoerek, the audience was peculiarly skeptical and would not admit that more than a few of them were in genuine trance. This sort of comment, therefore, was the kind which the informant would have made in his own village, and it was not unfriendly. But I think it would never have been made by a member of a group which practiced trance regularly and with the conviction that supernatural powers are manifested in this way.

111

Nevertheless, Ida Bagoes Teroewi's impression coincided with our own, namely, that Weweg's actions were forced. But Weweg's repeating his performance so exactly at two subsequent odalans did not necessarily show insincerity on his part. It was idiosyncratic behavior and pointed to a certain integrity in the direction of his effort. In a way, the pattern was once more repeated under different circumstances, at a hired performance of the Barong and the play given on December 3, 1938. T h e trancers went through their kris dance and the mock batde in pairs, and they had begun to do ngoerek without any very decisive symptoms of genuine trance. Suddenly the Barong burst out from the court of the temple, animated by a man in trance, and made a dash down past the performance place, fifty yards or so to the shrine of Meradjapati at the foot of the sacred trees in the graveyard. T h e trancers rushed after him, now excited to a frenzy, in such a state of violence that two among them (Sang Kompiang and Njoman Ada) managed to bend their krisses as they pressed them against their bodies. One (Rereg) fell down flat in a mud puddle, writhing and thrashing his body in the slime. Still another (Sedeng) went so limp that he wilted against a nearby coconut tree and would have fallen had not the assistants caught hold of him. Five minutes later the entire group, the Barong and his followers, had returned to the space before the temple and were continuing their ngoerek motions there. Weweg, who had been up to this time one of the group, behaving in a manner indistinguishable from that of a number of the others, was all at once to be seen immediately before the temple gate, doing ngoerek in a most extreme manner, bending his body backward in an arc, his head thrown far back on his neck, his left hand pressed to his hip to support him as he leaned far over backward, his right arm holding the kris, the point against his breast, high over his head so that the weapon was directed downward towards his body. This is not the most efficient position for self-stabbing, and the wonder is, not that the blade did not

112

Gianjar District

pierce the flesh, but that he could control it at all as he hurled himself backward and forward and that it did not slide off to one side, gashing his shoulder or his arm. In a few moments he had dropped to his knees, facing the temple gate, and, with the kris held turned upward, lying along his forearm, he sat upon the ground, his eyes closed, his shoulders hunched, his whole body rigid. O n this day Weweg's attempt to isolate himself was defeated, for almost at once the other trancers were swirling around him in an everincreasing confusion. T h e Barong's priest came racing out from the temple in a frenzied trance, shouting and adding to the commotion. T h e assistants endeavored to take hold of him, but before they could get him under control, he had grasped Weweg by the hair of the head in his right hand and with his left the head of I Sedeng, another trancer in a very wild state. Dragging the two of them, he pushed his way through the mass of struggling trancers and assistants and dragged them up the steps and into the first court of the temple. Probably what happened here was that the priest, D£wa Poetoe Meranggi, had the impulse to look after the other trancers and, because he is a priest, to assist in restraining them and in bringing them to themselves. But, catching fire from the excitement of the others, he too went in trance and continued his role of guardian of the entranced even after he himself was no longer in the normal state. A photograph of him taken two years earlier shows him holding Weweg, in trance, around the neck, in the manner common to Tegaltamoe and to Dendjalan of restraining the trancers by choking them. Here too the priest is also in trance; his left hand is extended in a posed position as if he were dancing, and he himself is being supported, held up under the arms by an assistant. This sort of behavior was therefore not unprecedented in the trance experience of Weweg and D£wa Poetoe. It was clear from the records of both occasions that it was D6wa Poetoe who took the lead, and that Weweg only submitted to the interplay which

involved him with another trancer—he did not seek it. After the priest disappeared into the temple dragging Weweg and Sedeng by the hair, we lost track of them for a time, while the other trancers were being brought to themselves. Eight minutes later the three of them reappeared, the priest still clutching the other two by the hair. H e dragged them out from the inner court of the temple to the space in the second court where the offerings were being laid out before the Barong and all those trancers who had not yet come to themselves were being collected. D6wa Poetoe took up a position in line with the Barong and facing the offerings, as if they had been laid at the feet of the trio. Weweg dropped to the ground and sat there with legs crossed, his hair still clenched in D£wa Poetoe's hand as the priest stood over him. D6wa Poetoe's other arm was passed around the neck of Sedeng, who was very short, so that he was in a sense supported by him. In this position the three remained for a further twenty-one minutes until they could be brought to themselves. It was during this time that Weweg talked in trance, called out for offerings, and showed himself as stubborn as any trancer we ever observed in his refusal to be pacified until the particular offering demanded by the spirit possessing him should have been presented. [Report by G M ] 11:16 A.M. T h e priest Dewa Poetoe Meranggi came out from the inner court and at that time went in trance. He grasped the hair of I Sedeng and the hair of I Weweg and took them inside the court. . . . 11:24

T h e Barong (in which was I Roendah [Figs. 32 and 33], in trance) once more tried to enter the court, but they guarded him from it, and he did not get in. Then came the priest with Sedeng and Weweg from the inner court. He was still holding their hair. T h e three of them stopped before the offerings.

The

11:30

11:31

11:32

Barong and the Kris Dance

113

. . . T h e other priest (Made Gedoe) offered holy water and prayed to the Barong, then to the Rangda, and all the entranced were sprinkled.

prayed, he twisted off the neck of the chicken and gave Roendah a libation

Weweg took a coconut (from among the offerings) and beat upon it, saying, "Chicken, chicken, where's the chicken? Is there no black chicken?" A woman answered, ' I n a moment. Your servants have gone to seek one."

trancer made a gesture of rubbing on his body). T h e n Roendah was smoked over the brazier and, when he had come to himself, was sprinkled with holy water. ( W e w e g was now sitting with one hand lying upon his leg, the other stretched out beside his knee, the fingers tense, as if in a dancing pose. T h e priest had let go of his hair and was simply resting his hand on Weweg's h e a d . — J B ) Weweg called out once more, "Give me the chicken; hurry! Give me a segehan offering; hurry!" and he pointed to a leaf on which there was a segehan, saying, "This will be all right." A woman laid out the offering before Weweg; he called for a libation, and, when they gave him the bottle, he himself poured the libation on the ground. In a moment Weweg cried out, "Adoh! Adoh!" and crushed the leaf which lay beside him. H e took a tjanang (from the offerings), and this too he crushed and tore up in his hands. T h e priest came to him with the brazier, wanting to smoke him over it, but Weweg shook his head, like a man who does not want to be smoked, and said, "Not yet, not yet; the chicken first, first the black chicken. Where is the black chicken? Has someone gone to fetch it?"

Weweg: Hurry up with the black chicken. Has someone gone to fetch it? T h e woman: Wait, wait a moment. It is so difficult for your servants when so many [gods] come down. Weweg (with eyes closed) groped in the daksina offering and took rice from it, which he scattered, scattering it upon the entranced. Weweg: Go get a black chicken. Hurry and get it! Oh! Oh! T h e woman: Yes, indeed, in a moment it will come; they are seeking it. T h e priest Mad6 Gedoe offered the brazier to the Barong, and I Roendah and I Renis (both in trance) were removed from it. ( T h e photographic record shows Weweg at this time stretching out his arms to both sides, fingers widespread, as if he were still dancing his wild dance. As he sits on the ground, the Barong mask and part of the coat are lowered over his head, the pictures show Weweg's hands out from under them still outstretched and vibrant. As the Barong was withdrawn, he dropped his arms, still stiff and straight, to his knees. Sedeng, on the other side of the priest in trance, had slumped to the ground and was leaning against the leg of the priest standing over him. T h e priest had his hand on Sedeng's head, and was still clutching Weweg's hair. — J B ) T h e other priest Made Gedoe (not in trance) offered a chicken to Roendah, praying. W h e n he had

(to drink) of arak-berem

and the we-

wangi (sandalwood water, which the

11:38

T h e priest: Yes, in a moment it will be here. ( H i s gestures were becoming more and more frantic, his arms stretched out as before, the fingers rigid, beating his knees and beating again upon the coconut which lay beside his knee, as if to take out his impatience upon it. H e would throw himself forward, agitating his arms, as if to do still more damage to the offerings, and the photograph

114

Gianjar District shows D6wa Poetoe the priest once more clutching his hair, to restrain him. -JB) Weweg said: "Peh, I'm sick of this. How long ago did I give my order, and nobody pays any attention. Haven't I told you ten times over, perhaps more, and still you won't bring it. Go tell them to bring a chicken. Adoh, Adoh!" At this the priest began to cry very hard. Weweg exclaimed "Peh! Peh! Peh!" (disgust) and took up the body of the (dead) chicken and threw it away. At that the priest Dewa Poetoe began to cry still harder. ( W e w e g now spun himself around facing the gate through which the person would come bringing his chicken. His eyes were still closed, but, perhaps because someone called out announcing her arrival, at the moment that a woman passed through the gate bearing the black chick, Weweg in a sudden paroxysm hurled himself backwards, and lay upon the ground at the feet of D6wa Poetoe, lying on his back and turned a little to one side, the arms fallen over to that side and now apparently relaxed. Thus he lay for two minutes. T h e n he rose up once more to his sitting position, and continued his behavior as before.

11:41

-JB) Weweg: Did not one go? Oh, I'm so sick of i t ( T h e woman had by this time crossed the court and delivered the chick into the hands of the priest Mad6 Gedoe.— J B ) T h e priest took the chicken and presented it first to the Barong, then to the Rangda. At that D£wa Poetoe laughed out loud. Mad6 Gedoe prayed over the chicken. (As he leaned forward to pass the chick in the smoke of the brazier, Weweg was once more doing things to the coconut, rolling it around on the ground in a circular motion with the palm of his outstretched left hand.

T h e n he held out both arms again as before, palms outward, his eyes still closed and his face drawn to a strained expression, the mouth protruding.—

11:45

11:47

JB) T h e priest handed Weweg the chick, and he bit off the head. At that Dewa Poetoe fell over on his back, head towards the north. (Weweg was given a leaf-cup of arak, and when he had drunk from it, he spat the head of the chick into i t . — J B ) Weweg was then smoked over the brazier and given the wewangi (sandalwood water). He came to himself and was sprinkled with holy water. (After this, Dewa Poetoe was attended to, given the brazier, the libation, the sandalwood water, and the holy water; and following him, the same was done for Sedeng, who was the last to come to himself.—JB)

T h e priest told us afterward that it was the god of the Rangda who had entered into the three trancers, D£wa Poetoe Meranggi, Weweg, and Sedeng, who had been identified on this occasion. However, we must not look too directly to their interrelated behavior for the basis of this explanation, for it was also said that three of the other trancers who had been a long time coming out had been entered by the god of the Barong. These men were Roendah and Renes, who had been in the Barong, and an old man called D6wa Kompiang Merrangi, who had no connection with any part of the performance but had gone in trance spontaneously at the sight of the others. T h e threefold entering of D0wa Poetoe, Weweg, and Sedeng was therefore not so pointed as it might have seemed, had they not given a parallel explanation for the entering of the three trancers who were not identified in their behavior. T h e summing up of the times for this trance of Weweg is as follows: 11:01 A.M.

Attack of kris dancers on Rangda

The

Barong and the Kris

11:04

Beginning of kris dance culminating in ngoerek 11:10 Climax of ngoerek is reached 11:16 Priest takes Weweg by the hair 11:24 Beginning of the offering scene; Weweg's refusal to come out 11:45 Weweg comes out Totals: 44 minutes of trancelike behavior 35 minutes of probably actual trance for Weweg 21 minutes impatient waiting to come out Compare the timing of the other two occasions we have recorded: May 15, 1937 11:29 P.M. Weweg begins to ngoerek 11:42 Weweg out of trance December 11, 1937 11:43 P.M. Weweg begins to ngoerek 11:51 Weweg out of trance Totals: 13 and 8 minutes, respectively, for the entire performance, and in neither case more than 2 minutes for the bringing out.

Dance

115

There is a sufficient time difference to justify our thinking of Weweg's two temple-festival trances as of a different order from that at the performance of February 3. My own opinion is that he did achieve deep trance on February 3, and that on the other two occasions he was making an effort to achieve it in all good faith. Some of his gestures on February 3 were of the type we call "demoniac" for Bali, related to the dance gestures of the Rangda with outstretched hands and widespread fingers, rigid and vibrant. And the impatient, resdess play with the offerings, when he tore up the leaf and beat upon the coconut or rolled it about under his hand, suggest a sustained nervous tension. He put on a show of feeling which was not acting—he was completely carried away in his trance role. I think he wanted always to be carried away, and what was genuine in his performance was his desire for the consummation of the trance state, even at times when he was not able to reach that consummation. If this is true, it is curious that his behavior in the preliminary stages should bear such an individual stamp and that it should be, in the later stage, so stylized and so reminiscent of the behavior of other trancers.

Ν J O M A N GANGSAR

In order to bring out the likeness of Weweg's performance, in its stylized aspect, to that of others, I shall describe here the behavior of another Dendjalan trancer, Njoman Gangsar, on April 30, 1937. He was one of the older men, between fifty and sixty, and did not take part in the kris dance. He often played the role of the Rangda in the performance (Fig. 34). I also saw him several times dancing in the gabor figures at the temple rituals. As a dancer he was highly trained. He was not content merely to dance and posture when he took his turn, but he made a dramatic scene of it, dancing a bit in the role of one of the characters in the plays and accompanying his dancing with singing the obsolete words which belong to the role. It was as if, in our culture, a man who was assisting at

a religious service, let us say, taking up the collection, should suddenly enter into the role of Hamlet and begin to declaim, "To be or not to be," even as he continued to pass the plate. The difference is that in our culture such a mixture of roles would seem ridiculous and inappropriate, whereas in Balinese culture no very sharp line was drawn between the performance of ritual and dramatics; any dramatic performance was in itself an offering to the gods, and the presumption was that the better the performance, the better the gods would be pleased. The spirit in which Njoman Gangsar gave himself up to a dramatic role, even as he danced the offering dance, carrying an offering in his hand, classed him very definitely as what we must call the "theatrical type" of Balinese trancer. Other

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Gianjar

trancers whom we should so classify are Djero Plasa of Intaran, I Ngetis of Tainan, I Bijoeh of Kesiman, and I Neka of Pagoetan, all of whom gave performances in trance which seemed "too good to be true," and which were only explainable in terms of their very marked ability as actors. These individuals had such a talent for acting that they could do the parts they had created for themselves in spite of, or perhaps the better for, being in a disassociated state. T h e night of Njoman Gangsar's most spectacular performance was the first one of the tenday festival held in honor of the renewal of the Barong. T h e people had arranged to have the work on the mask and the costume finished in time for the calendar festival in the Barong's temple, the Poera Pererepan. This night, then, was the odalan of the temple and also the first public appearance of the Barong in his new splendor. During the afternoon the ceremony ([ngatep) of joining the repainted mask to the coat and trappings had been performed by a Senggoehoe priest in the Poera Dalem. There was a great feast in the bald handjar for all the members and for their guests, among whom were three Westerners, Walter Spies, Beryl de Zoete, and myself. W e were invited for eight o'clock. T h e ngatep ceremony was finished, and a Gatnboeh play was in progress in the main court when I arrived. W e sat on one of the pavilions, feasting on suckling pig and a score of other delicate dishes, while the play went on at our feet. T h e play was said to have begun at about seven, and it continued until 9 : 4 5 , so that it was still going on when the ritual of "bringing home the Barong" was begun. T h e large court of the bale bandjar was already quite filled with the spectators of the play, and the only clear space seemed to be that marked off for the actors' performance, when the procession arrived from the Poera Dalem with two Barongs, 10 six Rangda masks, each carried on the head of a bearer, a number of priests, and " T h e second Barong was the guest from Moentoer, invited to be a witness to the ceremony, who came accompanied by three Rangdas.

District assistants carrying the ceremonial parasols, spears, banners, and so forth. The procession had to pass through this court, for only through it is there access to the Barong's temple. And the panggoengan shrine, the temporary shrine for the demons set up immediately outside the temple gate at festival time, stood here, converting the entire bale bandjar court into what was known as the djaban poera (the space without the temple), where certain rituals had to take place. Such a situation was what the Balinese call rame, literally meaning crowded, populous, and gay, but which is perhaps closest to our word fun. The crowds, the feasting, the actors in costume posturing in their roles, the gamelan orchestra playing, the procession arriving—all these things going on at once—created a mood of gaiety which was just what was desired for the reception of the Barong on his return. T h e atmosphere was one of celebration and was propitious, we found, for the display of a great deal of spectacular trance. But on this occasion we had to wait until a quarter to three in the morning before the strong trances broke out. From the time of the Barong's arrival, at 9 : 3 5 P.M., there was a continual stream of ritual, well mixed with theatrics, until the final trances were reached, forming the end of the evening's entertainment. The audience for the play moved aside sufficiently to allow the Barong's procession to pass. A t the foot of the panggoengan shrine three priests seated themselves, in order to dedicate the segeh agoeng offerings and to wring the necks of two chickens before the Barongs and Rangdas who stood there to receive this honor. One of the Rangdas was in trance, that is, the mask was being worn by a man in trance and not carried closed up in its box like the others. After this rite, the procession filed into the tiny court of the Barong's temple, and here the two Barongs and the six Rangdas were laid out in state on a pavilion, to receive the piodalin offerings, their part of the feast. A Brahmana High Priest dedicated these offerings, and afterward the tjaroe, the large set of offerings laid out on the ground in the five directions, for the demons. W h i l e he

The

Barong and the Kris Dance

sat praying and ringing his bell on one pavilion, a puppet play o£ the type known as wajang lemah (day shadow play, done without a screen) was performed on a pavilion a few feet away, the puppeteer declaiming quite as loudly as the High Priest, accompanied by the four metalkeyed instruments which make up the orchestra for such a play. These rituals were followed by another segeh agoeng offering without the gate, after which (at 12:45 A.M.) the temple-dancing began which was to last until it culminated in trance. Njoman Gangsar was one of the more conspicuous of the fifty-odd dancers who took part in this portion of the ritual, which is called the femendak or reception of the gods. His dancing was distinguished for its classical style and also because he and his partner did a little scene from a play, singing their roles. It was at 2:08 A.M. that he did this turn. At 2:32 the gabor part of the dancing was over, and the people formed in single file to circle the shrine. Here, because the space was too restricted inside the court of the Barong's little temple, the dancing took place outside, in the large court of the bald bandjar. The circumambulation of the central shrine was also transposed to the outside court, and the shrine they circled was the temporary fanggoengan. The dancers went round twice, each time breaking from the single file into the "stirred-up" Qmeseladoekan), every-which-way dance, passing each other, and weaving in and out as the music quickened. At the third circling, at 2:47 A.M., they burst into trance. Three older women were the first to go in; they were followed by one other woman and about ten men, all of whom took krisses and began to do ngoerek. [Notes by JB] Njoman Gangsar is dancing in a very dramatic way, with eyes open but wild. He points with his kris at the shrine; he dances his way in and out between the violent trancers doing ngoerek, shouting, "Wha-wha!" and giving the grumbling shout, "Waw!" associated with the Rangda. The women are screaming, leap-

117

ing, and pressing the krisses into themselves. By 2:52 the priests, who did not go into trance, are already busy with the brazier and the holy water, bringing out some of the trancers. 2:58 Njoman Gangsar dances through among the people doing ngoerek, up the steps of the temple gate. At the top he turns and dances in the gateway, shouting, "Who-O!" and holding his kris aloft. A boy is doing ngoerek at the foot of the steps, facing the place where Njoman Gangsar stands. This boy falls down. People rush to him with the brazier, to pick him up, making a mass of five or six bodies struggling at the foot of the steps. Njoman Gangsar dances down the steps, rapidly, with big side-to-side strides, and just passes this struggling mass, as if not seeing them, but also just missing them when I thought he would surely become entangled with them. He dances alone in the center of the court, with eyes wild, making sweeping gyrations. A priest dances towards him with the brazier (as if his trance were known to be the dramatic sort and only to be controlled by dramatic methods). Njoman Gangsar shouts. His eyes are glazed. His dance becomes wilder, with a side-to-side hop in the air, and very violent. He points the kris at his body and does ngoerek. He shouts, " W h o O ! Who-O!" and flourishes the kris, down, up, and with a sweeping gesture around in the air. It is so dramatic that everyone is watching him. He calls for a segeh agoeng offering. They bring a set of offerings and place them at his feet. He goes on dancing before the offerings. He calls for a chick. A chick is brought and set down among the offerings. He hurls his whole body face down upon them, bringing his mouth to the chick without using his hands. He takes the entire chick in his mouth and crunches it. The assistants take it from his mouth and give him a

118

3:04

3:05

Gianjar drink of arak. He stands, with his arms extended, downward and to the side, rigid, and vibrating so that his breast muscles shake. He snorts; shouts, Ήέ-1ιέhd-who-O-hoa!" They present the brazier to him. He puts his face in the coals, takes coals in his mouth. His eyelids droop. This is a noticeable change, for his eyes had been wide open and staring all this time. He is sprinkled with holy water, he drops to the ground. Then he gets up, takes the holy-water vessel and himself scatters it here and there. Now he has to hold out his hands to receive holy water, to drink and to put on his face and head. H e does this efficiently. But he has to be led around the shrine. A woman is making a libation there. He takes the bottle from her and dances in the center of the court with it, taking part in the ritual libationmaking which is now going on. Finally a woman pours a libation at his feet, then he stops dancing. H e walks off to the west side of the court. H e trusses up his loincloth (in the way men do when they are going to work, a sign of resuming his normal personality) and puts the kris back into the scabbard at his belt. Then he goes to the mat laid at the north end of the space and sits there. Offerings for a final segah agoeng are set out and dedicated by one of the priests. Njoman Gangsar, accompanied by the other trancers and some of those who had not gone into trance, enters the temple to make a final reverence to the god there. T h e terminating rite is the offering of banten pengeloearang, "for the expelling."

OTHER

District The point I should like to bring out is that this calling in trance for a segeh agoeng offering, this insistence for the chicken to be sacrificed, was a fixed pattern which recurred in many of the trancers but might vary considerably in its execution, according to the individual subject. Weweg's version and Njoman Gangsar's were reminiscent of each other and at the same time strikingly different. W e see how, in carrying out a stylized pattern for trance behavior, the individual trancer managed to give it the imprint of his own personality. Njoman Gangsar's was that of a theatrical personality, carrying it off with a flourish and dramatizing the whole sequence to the highest degree, Weweg's was more tentative, like that of a person not accustomed to call for a chicken, not very sure that it would be accorded him, and rendered the more anxious by the tantalizing uncertainty. As we know, certain of the trancers made a habit of calling for special offerings, and, when a festival was going on, their wishes could be anticipated and prepared for. In Weweg's case his request was apparently unanticipated, and that is why the chicken was so long in coming. He showed his determination by refusing to come out of trance until his wish was satisfied. W e saw other cases when the trancer called for a chick and, when none was available, came out of trance without it. W e saw subjects of Njoman Gangsar's type, the theatrical type, go without the requested chick. It is hard to say what would have been Njoman Gangsar's response had the chick not been in readiness for him—whether he would have put on a scene or simply come out of trance without it. Certainly his manner of devouring it was as dramatic as any such episode we witnessed.

DENDJALAN

T h e other members of the Dendjalan group behaved when entranced in a variety of ways, each

KRIS

DANCERS

according to his personality, and, if there were time and space to take up each one in turn, we

The

Barong

and

could point out the idiosyncratic twists each gave to his performance. The patterns were repeated again and again, and the investigator came to feel that he could almost predict the manner in which a given type would behave before he had seen him in trance. For example, there was a young man called Rereg, who stood out as a very violent trancer on the day of February 3, 1938. He was the man who got down and rolled in the mud as he stabbed at himself. His arm holding the kris was so rigid that the assistants trying to disarm him could not manage to bend it at the elbow nor to loosen his grip on the handle. He was one of the last on that day to come out of trance. W e are indebted to Less Lindner for a fine series of photographs of the Dendjalan performance taken in 1936, in which Rereg is shown going through a trance sequence very like to the one we have recorded for Weweg at the chicken-eating scene on February 3, 1938. The first picture shows Rereg standing upright, his body tense and rigid, his feet wide apart and kicking up the dust, his two arms rigidly extended to each side, while three men have hold of him and are trying to control him. He is straining forward, away from them, his eyes are closed, and he is blowing out his mouth. Later shots show him seated on the ground, one leg drawn under him, his hands outstretched with stiff spread fingers in a position almost identical to Weweg's, as the Barong is brought close over his head. His eyes are still closed and his mouth open; he seems to be straining forward as Weweg did over the offerings. In another picture, the brazier is being presented to him, and he is being recalcitrant, his right hand is lifted as if he were slapping his thigh, and he seems to be crying. In a final picture he has fallen back exhausted against a young woman, on his face the same drawn expression as in the one I took of him in 1938 when he was lying back exhausted, his head thrown far back, before he came to himself. W e have still another good shot of him, taken by GB in 1936, in the coming-out period, sitting supported by an assistant, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, and his mouth protruding.

the

Kris

Dance

119

For this expression of the protruding mouth the Balinese had a special term, boedjoeh. In its most extreme form the mouth was projected forward, and the lips formed into a circle, like a contracting sphincter (see Fig. 52). It was the expression necessary to emit the Dionysian shouts best rendered by the syllables "Who-O!" and was often, but not always, accompanied by such shouts. The tendency to take on the boedjoeh expression was common to many trancers, but perhaps the most clearly defined cases were those of two litde men who were members of the Dendjalan group. They were I Rata and I Sedeng. Neither was more than five feet tall; both were extremely sturdy and short-legged— the powerful little Malay type which looks clumsy but is in fact possessed of great endurance and strength. These two subjects were so much alike that it was hard to distinguish between them. It is I Rata's photograph which we are using to illustrate the expression of the rounded mouth. Note that his eyes are shut and his right fist, held by an assistant, is tightly clenched. The picture taken a few moments later (his position has not changed) shows his face broken up into a thousand wrinkles, the eyes screwed up, the mouth drawn back as if he were crying. The Leica film records that he rose from this sitting position, got a kris, and did ngoerek. His mode of doing ngoerek was to grasp the kris in both hands and, lunging forward with the right leg, to bend backward, pressing the kris into the right side of his breast He did not bend as far backward as either Rena or Weweg, but he forced the kris with such strength against his breast that the muscles would stand out in his short arms. Later on in the Leica record, he is seated on the ground at the Barong's feet, his legs stretched out before him, his arms raised in frantic gesticulations, his mouth again in the boedjoeh expression. Other photographs of him show the tense and rather clumsy postures he takes in the preliminary kris dance. In some photographs, when he has gone quite limp in trance, one can see that he is held up under the arms, his arms dangle, his head and whole body are fallen forward like those of one in a swoon.

120

Gianjar

W e have one photograph of Rata and Sedeng, taken side by side doing ngoerek, in a position so similar that the figure of one could almost be superimposed upon the other. Sedeng is the man who was mentioned when we were treating of Weweg, the third of the trio, who was also held by the hair by the priest. Earlier in the trance manifestations of that day, Sedeng had engaged in a mock battle with another trancer, Sang Kompiang, grasping him round the body while Sang Kompiang's arm was thrown up across his shoulder, so that in the picture the two look as if they were having a wrestling match (Fig. 54). Sedeng's mouth was already extended. Later, when the Barong in trance had made the mad dash up the performance place and to the graveyard, followed by the trancers with krisses, Sedeng was photographed on the ground, stabbing at his chest with the kris held in both hands, at the same time kicking his legs up over his head so that the lower part of his body was lifted off the ground. His mouth was open; he was shouting. At the return to the space outside the temple, Sedeng was among the others, still doing ngoerek, when the priest D6wa Poetoe Meranggi rushed out of the temple and caught him by the hair. A photograph taken at this moment shows Sedeng leaning far to the side, the kris still held pointed at his breast, while the priest charges forward, dragging Sedeng backward as he goes. Sedeng's eyes are tight shut and his mouth wide. Another picture, taken while the three of them were facing the offerings and Weweg was calling out for the black chicken, shows Sedeng with the priest's arm passed over his neck, while an assistant stands behind him, supporting him under the arm. Both Sedeng and D6wa Poetoe are projecting their lips, Ddwa Poetoe in the circular form as if he were emitting the "Who-O!" sound, Sedeng's mouth not so contracted, but open, and both the lower and the upper lip definitely protruding. A few minutes later he had slumped to the ground and sat limply, his head fallen forward, his body leaning against the priest's leg, throughout the rest of

District the time until Weweg had got his chicken, and all three of them were brought out of trance. It may be noted in passing that most of the photographs I have been describing were taken as close-ups, and that I stood not more than four feet in front of the subjects to take them. The Balinese cannot be said to be camera-shy. It has often been remarked that when they are intent upon something they are doing they pay no more attention to a camera shoved in their faces than if they did not know what it was—which, of course, is not the case. Notwithstanding their amazing customary poise before the camera, I have generally found that trance subjects would betray by some little sign—a flicker of the eyelids, opening their eyes just for a moment to see what was being done—that they were not beyond attentiveness, in cases where the trance was simulated. The three men we have been describing gave on this occasion no sign at all of being conscious of what I was doing when I would come up close before them and snap them, then go away to photograph other trancers who lay around the court and return unexpectedly to take them again. Two of the other trancers did betray that they were conscious by looking up for a moment when I stood before them, but Weweg, D6wa Poetoe, and Sedeng definitely did not. Two other photographic observations of Sedeng taken by GB in 1936, show him, first, being forced in under the Barong, struggling against two men who are trying to disarm him, his whole body tense and his foot cramped against the earth as he resists them, and, later, being carried off the scene by the same two assistants, having gone quite limp, his arms and legs dangling. They have hold of him under the armpits and under the knees, and his body swings between them like a sack of meal. There were three chief modes of doing ngoerek to be distinguished in the kris dancers of Dendjalan. The first is that practiced by Rena, Rata, Sedeng, and a number of the others. The subject lunges forward with the right leg, pressing the kris to the right side of the breast,

The

Barong and the Kris

perpendicular to the body, and leaning backwards to a greater or less extent as the thrust is made. The left leg drags back, thus facilitating the backward bend. In the pauses between the more violent attacks of self-stabbing, the subjects leap forward, some with their krisses held high in the air, others holding the handle close to the body and the point directed outward. Sometimes they leap forward and then back; sometimes they advance with striding dance steps. Often the left hand of the subject is at this time extended, the fist clenched. W e have one photograph of a group in which three of five subjects clearly shown have the left arm extended and the fist clenched. The second mode is typified by Weweg's way of doing ngoerek, the legs firmly placed and the feet quite far apart, the weight evenly distributed between the two. There is considerably more strain in the back at the bending backward in this position. Often the kris is lifted higher, striking the breast at a more acute angle. It is optional whether the kris be held in one or both hands. If in one only, the other may be extended or used to brace the back. In the pauses between thrusts, the performer may dance forward or in place, or leap in the air, hopping from side to side in what is really a very exaggerated and comical manner. I have seen the children convulsed with laughter as they watched a trancer sufficiently carried away to give himself up to these antics. The third position that the men may take when doing ngoerek is still more suggestive than the others of an activity correlated in some very fundamental way with sexual activity. The performer stands with legs apart and knees slightly bent. He holds the kris with both hands down between his thighs, the point extending upward towards his breast, and he leans forward upon it. One photograph (Fig. 50) shows I Moedera in this position; another trancer doing it in the same way may be seen far to the right in the group in another picture (Fig. 46). The latter photograph, taken by Less Lindner, is particularly interesting in that it shows all three modes

Dance

121

current in Dendjalan. The three figures nearest the camera are doing ngoerek in what we might call the lunging position, right leg forward, left leg dragging back. The farthest figure is also lunging. The central figure is doing it with legs wide apart and firmly placed. Both types make a strong contrast to the figure on the far right, who is holding his kris down between his legs. From this position, the performer may rear back, bringing his body into a position analogous to that of the other modes at the top of the thrust, or he may seem to fall forward upon it, so that the strong beat of the rhythmic motion comes on the forward and not on the backward bend. When this happens, the activity is reminiscent of the "woman's way" of doing ngoerek, which GB first distinguished and analyzed, and which will be fully described in the next section. M M also observed another version of the betweenthe-legs mode, when a trancer, confusing the two ends of the kris, held the handle down between his thighs but with the point downward, passing between his legs, and still continued the rhythmic up-and-down motions as if the point were directed against his breast. By such a reversal, he clearly showed that the kris as a phallic symbol will do as well handle foremost as blade foremost. When I state that a given item of trance behavior was suggestive of sexual activity, it is not because I wish to convince the reader that the sexual drive is at the bottom of the whole sequence, but because I can think of no better way of describing an act which to the observer was most strikingly characterized by this very implication. I have tried throughout to present the data in an unbiased way, so that the facts would stand out clearly and speak for themselves. In all cases where the behavior did not strike me or one of the other observers of our group as definitely of a sexual nature, I have said nothing about it. To the Dendjalan section I shall not append a running account of a particular festival, for the reason that the sequence of the temple ritual approximates that which has been recorded for

122

Gianjar District

Tegaltamoe and the differences which occur have already been treated in the text. It is to be remembered that when the ngoerek trances broke out in the course of the temple rituals, they had a duration of only three to ten minutes before the trancers were disarmed and, if possible, immediately brought to themselves. It was therefore almost impossible to make a detailed record of more than one subject per observer and, in the turmoil which surrounded them, to do more than sketch the background and the

BOEITAN,

elements of the setting which contributed to bring about that individual's trance. I shall give here only the record of one of these short trances which three of us Western observers witnessed together at Boeitan (next to Dendjalan and attended by many of the same people who attend the Dendjalan temples). On this night I was able to do some timing of one subject with a stop watch, because of the assistance of MM and GB in covering the behavior of the other trancers.

DECEMBER

The gabor dancing in the temple has continued up until 12:22 A.M. This is followed by the wewangi rite, here a litde leaf-cup of sandalwood water ad- 12:56 ministered to each priest and prospective trancer, sprinkled on him and drunk by him. (In other places the body is ritually anointed with it, or it is 12:57 wafted toward the body.) They all wash their hands in a special clay bowl containing the purifying grass (amhengan). Then they dance round the central shrine, seven priests and fourteen girls and women. Two little girls between the ages of seven and eleven are in the line of dancers, wearing a ceremonial headdress of woven young palm leaves and marigolds. These dancers are called redjang in this village, a term applied in other districts to the temple dancing of young girls only, in single file. 12:35 A.M. Two of the priests lead off the first dance, circumambulating the shrine. 12:55 They have been around three times, with slight pauses between, the gatnelan orchestra alternating the slow tempo of the redjang music with the faster tempo in which the line breaks and the dancers swirl into the "stirred-up" movement. Some of the priests and the women are 12:59 given a drink of arak-berevi. The little

11,

1937

girls with the headdresses have finished their part; they remove their headdresses and stop dancing. They begin to dance round once more, the orchestra playing slowly. A tall young man who is a priest of the temple, I Degeng, is one of the dancers. I Degeng suddenly, after dancing once round the shrine, goes in trance and begins to do ngoerek. He takes a place in the center of the court, leaping forward and back as he presses the kris against his breast, and dancing with side-to-side steps in the pauses, slightly wobbly. (Meanwhile a woman has gone in trance and begun to do ngoerek, and an older man who is also a priest, Mangkoe Ged£, climbs up on the high offering shrine, takes down a kris from the roof, then suddenly with a roar leaps down into the court and starts to do ngoerek.—MM) The trancers follow one another in rapid succession, breaking out in the trance motions, until there are in all five men—all priests—and two women. At the first outbreak the music has changed to the clanging gegüakan (crazy) movement. Stopwatch timing of I Degeng's motions:

The

Barong

and the Kris Dance

Seconds to yi

0" to to 40" to Γ05" to 1'35" to 1'50" to 2 Ί 0 " to

25" 40" 1Ό5" 1'35" 1'50" 2Ί0" 2'30"

ngoerek pause ngoerek pause ngoerek pause ngoerek

25 15 25 20 15 20 20

1:01 A.M. The assistants are taking away the krisses. A woman catches hold of I Degeng's arm. Then one of the priests seizes it. (Meanwhile the two women have been brought out, by means of the brazier and holy water. M M ) (The old priest, Mangkoe Ged£, is roaring, and doing ngoerek more like a woman. —GB) 1:03 Several people have hold of I Degeng, finally his kris is wrested from his hand. He is still held by one arm. He continues his side-to-side motion, from one foot to the other. 1:04 A woman gives I Degeng to drink. He still goes from side to side. The brazier is presented to him; he puts his face in it, then tosses back his head as if resisting, then again puts his face into it. He takes a leaf-cup of holy water and sprinkles himself. He stands for a moment. Then he walks off. 1:05 The old priest Mangkoe Ged0 has a spasm in which he jumps around. The assistants hold on to him. He cries out, asking for a drink of arak-berem. ("He dances like a cat on hot bricks."—MM) (When the brazier is offered to him, he crunches the coals in his hands, "because he was given only a little arakberem."—GM) The dipper of holy water is brought by one of the women who was in trance, now quite herself again. She sprinkles him and gives him to drink. The wewangi (sandalwood water) is offered. He comes out. 1:07

All are out of trance. I Degeng and

123

Mangkoe Gede were the last ones to come out. It is to be noted that I Degeng went in trance within one minute after the dancing which is ceremonially intended to bring about trance had begun. He was allowed to do ngoerek for only four minutes. We have the stop-watch record of the timing of two and a half of those four minutes. The rhythm of the time periods in which he is stabbing at himself, and not stabbing, is fairly regular, the periods averaging twenty seconds and varying not more than five seconds one way or the other. (The nearest five-second interval was used for the recording, since the difficulties of keeping an eye on the subject and on the watch, at the same time writing down the count and handling a flashlight by which to see the second hand, made it impossible to be more precise. The count by this method is not more than two and a half seconds in error, and the rhythms indicated are near enough to be of use.) It takes four more minutes to bring him out of trance. During all but a few seconds of these four minutes he was actively resisting the efforts to bring him to himself. Although Mangkoe Ged£ was on this night more violent in his behavior, our group of observers agreed that Degeng's behavior was more typical, and the timing of his ngoerek motions may be taken as representative of the average male ngoerek behavior. For comparison with the timing of a male subject, I shall give here the parallel timing for a female subject, taken down on the same evening (December 11, 1937) but not in the temple of Boeitan. The observations were made in the Poera Dalem of Dendjalan, where we attended the odalan, which was finished early so that we were able to go on to the other odalan at Boeitan. The scene is the one I have described earlier, in the section on Weweg. The female subject was Mangkoe Tegeh, the priestess, who had set off the trance and who struck one of our Balinese witnesses as the only one genuinely in trance of the whole group. She will figure again prominendy in the coming section on Pagoetan,

124

Gianjar

for she is one of the enthusiastic trancers who go round from one festival to another in the neighboring villages. But for comparison I DENDJALAN,

11:42 P.M. T h e line of dancers is circling the central shrine. Mangkoe Tegeh circles away from the line, dancing independently. She circles around and comes u p behind a priest who has a kris in his belt. She draws it out, with a highpitched shout bursts into trance, and begins at once to do ngoerek. She does it in the familiar way, with a sliding step forward and to the right, then bends backward and forward as she presses the kris against her chest. This is interspersed with pauses in the stabbing, when she half walks, half dances with slowish steps, knees wide and quite bent, advancing and circling in time to the music. Sometimes she dances backwards. Her kris is held against her hip in her right hand, point upward. Each time she begins to do ngoerek she gives this peculiar high-pitched shout. 11:47 Stop-watch timing of Mangkoe Tegeh's ngoerek motions: Seconds 4'55" to 5 Ί 0 " ngoerek 5 ' ΐ σ ' to 5'25" pause

PAGOETAN—VILLAGE

District should like to give the timing I recorded for her here.

DECEMBER

11,

5'25" 5'40" 6'00" 6Ί5" 6'35"

11:50

to to to to to

1937

5'40" 6'00" 6Ί5" 6'35"

ngoerek pause ngoerek pause ngoerek

15 20 15 20

As she does it, she comes and goes around the court and disappears behind the shrine, so that I lose sight of her. In each ngoerek period she does the pumping motion forward and back, pressing the kris into herself, from three to seven times. T h e timing is remarkably close to that of the male trancer, and, though the average of the ngoerek periods is a little shorter in this sequence, I earlier recorded, in a sequence which was too soon interrupted to be of value as such, a single ngoerek period of 35 seconds duration. She was stopped and disarmed eight minutes after she had begun to do ngoerek.

T h e reader may compare this to the timin« records of the same female subject to be found in the following section.

15 15

STRIFE

T h e last of the village groups of this district to attract our attention was Pagoetan, which lay in a rather remote position, across a ravine, and about fifteen minutes' walk away from the motor road. Toward the end of the year 1936 Walter Spies witnessed a performance by the Pagoetan Barong group at a festival in Batoeboelan. T h e players were so good and the trances so convincing that he decided to approach them with

PLAYED

OUT

IN

TRANCE

a view to engaging them for private performances, such as we had often ordered in Dendjalan and Tegaltamoe. H e talked with a young temple priest who seemed to be the leader of the group and was met with almost gushing eagerness. T h e young man had never known any Westerners before. H e manifested his delight by learning to shake hands, and so pleased was he with this new accomplishment that he would

Village Strife Played Out in come up to Spies or to one of the other Western guests and shake hands time after time during the performance, walking away only to return again for the pleasure of repeating the greeting. The first ordered performance given by the group took place outside the Poera Babian, the temple which is the home of their Barong—a lovely setting under enormous trees and on the edge of the rice fields. It more than exceeded expectations, and many subsequent performances were arranged so that visiting foreigners might see them. In fact, the group became so popular that several different households of foreign inhabitants fell into the habit of taking their guests to Pagoetan as the best place to see a kris dance. Unfortunately these different households were not always in touch with one another's plans, and it would sometimes happen that three or more trance performances would be ordered in a single week. Doubtless it was not particularly good for the health of the participants in the trance performance to be asked to put on their show so frequently. But they always did put one on, and a most striking show it was. The advantage of this village as a field for study was the very frequency of the performances, so that we as observers were not forced to wait until a calendrical event came round to see the subjects once more in action. Members of our group have records of trances at Pagoetan, both at ordered performances and those accompanying the temple ritual, from November, 1936 through January, 1938. On one occasion our entire group attended, and the record was compiled from the notes of four Western and two Balinese witnesses, together with a reasonably complete recording on Leica and Cine film. This performance, which we had planned in order to take the photographs, turned out an especially interesting one, for in the trance manifestations were revealed marked hostilities between the chief characters such as we had never before witnessed. We noted exaggerated cruelty on the part of several of the trancers directed toward each other and what seemed to be unnecessary brutality in the treatment of one

Trance

125

in particular (who had been wounded) by a leader who was not in trance. The question arose: were these hostilities the expression of stricdy impersonal aggression through the impersonal symbolic forms of the trance roles, or were they actual, personally felt hostilities, which might not under ordinary circumstances be expressed, here being resolved without fear of community discipline? Does the trance situation simply permit the release of a generalized aggressive drive, which might be directed toward the Rangda, or toward any other trancer, as a target? Or did the individual participants under cover of the trance situation give vent to feelings, based upon real grievances against particular enemies, which they had long held in check? We shall first examine the character of the chief personalities involved on this occasion and afterward give a report of the events on the occasion and its sequel, in the light of our knowledge of these characters. The village of Pagoetan had two divisions, North and South. Taken together, they numbered 105 households. All belonged to the big Poera Dalem of Dendjalan and also to the Poera Babian, which was their own Poera Dalem. T o the sekaha (or players' club) of the Barong kept in the Poera Babian the entire village also belonged. Together they owned an orchestra, the Barong and five Rangdas, as well as other masks, costumes, and headdresses necessary for their performances. As a group they were industrious and well organized. Their performances and rituals went off on scheduled time, there was little scurrying about for forgotten necessaries, and as a rule no internal ructions disturbed the smooth working of their cooperative system. The most prominent figures in our study of Pagoetan were closely connected with the Poera Babian. This temple had a reputation for supernatural power (teng^t). People said that 115 kolas (demons) inhabited it and at times made themselves visible. According to legend it was the meditation place of a Prince called Tjokorda Ged6 Meregan who lived three generations ago. This Prince used to visit the temple on "holy"

126

Gianjar

District

days to b e g the gods for power over his subjects, a n d surely his petitions were granted, for all the p e o p l e were so afraid of him that they crouched d o w n w h e n they heard h i m approaching, or, if they were too frightened, ran away. W h e n h e w e n t forth he was preceded by a pack of strange d o g s C a n g s o n - a n g s o n ) who wore bells a r o u n d their necks, and the sound gave the people w a r n i n g of his coming. In the temple, the dogs w o u l d climb u p on the highest shrines. It is s u p p o s e d that they were a gift from the gods a n d that w h e n they died they went back to heaven (mewtoefe). T h e chief shrine in the temple at that time was that to Betara S a k e n a n . T j o k o r d a G e d 6 M e r e g a n dreamed that he should m a k e a big shrine for R a t o e G e d e Poeseh B a b i a n , a n d this b e c a m e the chief shrine in the t e m p l e from w h i c h it took its name. A t a later time "it was s a i d " ( i n trance) that the Barong should be m a d e , a n d a sleeping-place ( P e r e r e p e n ) for him. H i s n a m e was Ratoe A n o m , a n d h e w a s the child of the temple's chief god. A n d it w a s also said that a R a n g d a should be m a d e , the wood cut from the sana tree to the north of the temple, a n d her n a m e was Ratoe G e d 6 B a b i a n . N o w h e r e was there a R a n g d a so terrifying ( a ^ n g ) . T h i s is a composite rendering of the legend, culled from the statements of various informants. A t that time there were three temple priests formally connected with the temple. T h e first was called A n a k A g o e n g N j o m a n S a r w i , of

Pered6wa caste, a n d the sen tana 11 h u s b a n d of a direct descendant of the Prince T j o k o r d a G e d e M e r e g a n by a lower caste w i f e . H e officiated particularly at the big central shrine for the chief g o d of the temple, R a t o e G e d e Poeseh B a b i a n . T h e second w a s a m a n of low caste, I R a w a , w h o g a v e offerings at the original shrine of R a t o e S a k e n a n a n d to the Barong. H e was not allowed to officiate at the chief shrine nor to dedicate the offerings of high-caste temple members. T h e third w a s another m a n of low caste, a n old m a n , w h o was n o longer very active, b u t w h o was empowered also to give offerings to the B a r o n g . C o n n e c t e d with the temple were two more figures of importance, D e w a Ketoet K e l £ n a n g , of the small nobility, w h o habitually wore the m a s k of the chief R a n g d a , a n d I N e k a , w h o played the front m a n in the B a r o n g . O f those with priestly functions I R a w a , D έ w a Ketoet, a n d I N e k a habitually went in trance. L a s d y , there w a s a trancer called I M a r s a , w h o h a d a very illustrious reputation as the only m a n to be entered by a god, the god of the B a r o n g . W h e n h e w a s in trance his orders went over the h e a d of the high-caste priest, and the offerings which he d e m a n d e d in the n a m e of the g o d h a d to b e given. W h e n h e w a s not in trance, h e h a d nothing to do with the ceremonial activities. 1 1 A marriage in which the husband becomes a member of the wife's family, as a son, and honors her ancestors.

RAWA

R a w a w a s the young temple priest w h o w a s so keen about shaking hands. H e was between twenty-five and thirty years old, of m e d i u m height, very sturdily built, broad-chested, a n d with heavy thighs a n d calves, so that h e g a v e a n impression of stockiness u n u s u a l in a Balinese. H i s features were regular, his skin smooth a n d sufficient pale to be counted a point in his favor by the Balinese, to whom light skin is o n e of the first attributes of beauty. H e wore his

hair long. T h i s was not usual in so y o u n g a m a n , for it h a d at that time become the style for them to cut off their hair. In D e n d j a l a n in 1931 all the kris dancers h a d long hair, in 1934 half of them still h a d their hair long, but in 1936 all h a d short hair. O n the other h a n d , it was more usual for temple priests than for laymen to wear their hair long; there seemed to b e a certain conservatism in the old style suitable to their f u n c t i o n . In R a w a , however, we suspected

Village Strife Played Out in that the long hair was a sign of coquetry, that he wore it so to be different and because he had an idea it suited him. H e was very vain about his appearance. Once when we were discussing his success with a certain woman, my secretary, to lead him on, said, "Indeed, I Rawa is very handsome!" Rawa only smiled complacently, flattered by the compliment, which he took to be genuine, and did not bother to deny what seemed to him such an obvious fact. W h e n he smiled, he disclosed four brilliant white teeth in the center of his betel-stained mouth. It never occurred to me that Rawa's white teeth were false until one day I saw one come loose. T h e y were little plates of mother-of-pearl, glued on in some way to the surface of his own darkened teeth. T h i s discovery gave further evidence of his vanity concerning his appearance. W h e n he was officiating as temple priest, Rawa behaved in a self-conscious manner, as if he were "playing to the gallery." H e took a characteristic pose, with legs apart and feet firmly placed pointing out—a masculine and distinctly aggressive pose (Fig· 6 6 ) . W e have records of him in trance taking this same pose with marked exhibitionistic overtones in his behavior. For example, once when the other trancers were laid out, supposedly unconscious, in two rows upon the ground, Rawa took up a position in the center, as if to be the focus of the trance activity. In trance, he made a dash down between the two lines of recumbent men, attacked the Barong at the west end of the space, and returned to the east end where two attendants took hold of him, supporting him by placing one of his arms around each of their necks. As he was held, he fixed himself firmly with legs apart, feet pointing outwards in an exaggerated manner, his entire body from the waist down tense and semirigid. His hands were alternately tense, vibrating with outstretched fingers, and relaxed. As another temple priest approached him with the smoking brazier, Rawa reached out with his left hand, his arm still passed over the shoulder of the man supporting him, and snatched at the burning wood. H e accompanied this compulsive gesture with a deep inarticulate

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shout. H e was given a drink of arak-herem. H e continued to hold the pose while the other trancers got up and proceeded with a stylized dance advancing to the west end, and then, in pairs, alternately crouched and rose to stand threateningly over their partners in the mock batde, the ascendant figure placing his foot upon the thigh of the withdrawing enemy. Rawa was able to remain quiet for several minutes while the other trancers held the center of the stage. At one point he clenched his fists. T h e n he was seized with a paroxysm, starting forward with violent leg motions, leaping with his legs outstretched, his arms still over the shoulders of his two supporters, so that he dragged them forward with him. H e made several of these bounds, drawing his knees up and kicking outward, advancing in all ten feet from his original position. T h e n he broke away from his attendants and rushed wildly in amongst the players of the orchestra, searching for a kris. He snatched at first one man, then another, until he had got hold of a weapon. He came tearing back into the central space, crying, "Awa!" brandishing the kris and continuing the kicking leaps as before. A pause. T h e n more leaps. H e was doing, according to my notes "something like ngoerek, but not very seriously." I believe that on account of the very violence of his leaping bounds he could not coordinate them very well with the movements of arms and shoulders required in the selfstabbing as it was usually done. There was no lack of intensity in his behavior but less attention to the activity with the kris, as he continued the automatisms begun before he got hold of it. On this occasion he was the first of the trancers to begin the self-stabbing. He set off the others. H e was also the first to stop. After a few seconds he staggered backwards, as if about to fall, but not falling straight over, rather backing up until he fell into the arms of his supporters, as if he were giving them time to be in position to break his fall. As soon as they caught him he became rigid, stiffening his entire body in their grasp.

He cried out the pain-word, "Adoh, Adohl" and

they removed his kris. Nine minutes had passed since he first took the position supported by the

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two attendants, and fifteen minutes since the first break into trance activity. Rawa was now supposed to be out of trance, although we recorded no routine with the brazier and holy water to bring him out. He broke away once more from his attendants and rushed down the center of the performance place shouting, "Be still, be still!" to the other trancers, as violendy as he had shouted before, so that at the time I was not sure if he was still entranced or not. He took upon himself the role of quieting the other trancers, throwing his arms around the necks of two of them and dragging them by force down the performance place, to make them stop stabbing themselves. Then he left them standing and dashed back to the east end shouting, "Stop now!" He took hold of the mask of the Barong, the front man of which had gone in trance, and led it down towards the entrance to the temple. Later, when the entranced had been taken into the temple for the final bringing out and the chicken-eating scene, Rawa took no part in the doings but stood close to the group of Westerners who were looking on, answering their questions and making himself agreeable. There were times when Rawa did not go into trance at all at the Pagoetan performances. But these were times when he had a position in the limelight by officiating as temple priest or by some other circumstance. Once he did not go into trance at the kris-dancing part of the performance, but later, and alone, when he ate the chicken. The aloneness, the isolation of his trance behavior was typical of him. He was never one of a line of trancers more or less indistinguishable from one another, but stood out as a central figure, as if to focus the attention of the audience upon himself. His behavior in trance was characteristically violent, aggressive, and exhibitionistic. His introspective statements of his sensations in trance are as follows: 'It's like this. The kolas, all of them, want to attack Qngereboet) me, in the legs, the arms, in my [whole] body. I have the feeling of the kalas—I don't know how it is. At such a time if I do not get to ngoerek, even until night I do not stop being unconscious

District Cengsaf). Then my eyes have a feeling of darkness; my body is as if it had got paint on i t i a My chest itches as if it were being smoked, burned." When he detailed these sensations, he became excited, pressed his hands to his chest at the point under the clavicles where it is customary to drive the kris, on both sides, and also on his shoulders at the back of his neck. He was miming the attack by the many kalas on various parts of his body. He went on: "If I were not entered by kalas, I should not dare to ngoerek." GM asked, "How is it, how can it be, that you don't want to stab your comrades if you are angry?" Rawa said, "The reason I don't is I have a powerful desire (ngedot) to stab here [indicating his chest], and then I am unconscious. I don't know anything. As for me, it is as if there were someone ordering me to stab. When it's like that, if I don't get hold of a kris, I should die, so strong is my anger. The reason I stop to ngoerek is that libations are made of arak-berem, [offerings of] segeh agoeng, something of the sort, so that the kalas will go home. That is to send away the kalas, that libation. . . . As for me, when I have succeeded to ngoerek, I feel extremely content. If the libation should not be given until night, I should not stop to ngoerek until night. So it goes, being tired and stopping again, after a moment feeling well again and ngoerek again, like that. If one has succeeded to ngoerek, and after that gotten the libation, then one's thoughts are content, like a belly that hungered and after a moment was given rice— just so." Following up the mention of his desire to stab himself, I asked him how the desire for the kris compared with desire for a woman. He said it was stronger than the desire for a woman, for he had them often. His statements were in accordance with his behavior in trance. We have noted that his enu He refers, I think, to the itching which comes from the lacquer paint they use, when they get it on their bodies.

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tire body was affected—he kicks with his legs; he stabs at his head. This corresponds with his feeling of being attacked by many kolas in all parts of his body. The compulsive nature of the trance actions is recognized when he says that "It's as if there were someone ordering me to stab." The strong desire he experiences corresponds with the violence of his trance conduct and also with the exhibitionistic drive, which is so urgent in him and which, when satisfied, leaves him appeased and content. In contrast to his behavior in trance, he had a soft and almost wooing manner in his relation with Westerners. His addiction to the habit of shaking hands was significant, as if by the repeated gesture he could make a closer contact with the white person and reassure himself through this sign of their friendly feeling towards him. It was only after some months that he could be persuaded to desist, when he was told that one handshaking at meeting and one at parting were sufficient. If we encountered him at a festival in a neighboring village, he immediately attached himself to the Western person or persons present and clung to them throughout the evening. He would take their arm and walk off with them, speaking softly and confidentially in their ear, even though the subject under discussion be matter-of-fact business. I have seen him seat himself beside a Westerner whom he hardly knew, lay his hand upon the man's knee and lean and fawn upon him for an extended period of time, without receiving any encouragement from the object of his attentions. He made a great point of offering refreshments to the white guests who came to his village. He pressed rice wine and fruit upon them and hovered about solicitously, as if he felt personally responsible for their pleasure and well-being. Quite often he walked the ten kilometers to pay a visit to the house of one of his Western patrons, to inform us of a coming festival. From the beginning, it had been with Rawa more than with any other member of the group that the Westerners had their dealings in ordering the performances. He had shown himself an excellent impresario. When we asked for an elevated

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platform from which to take photographs, he had built a practical but almost too elaborate structure. When we asked for the introduction of female trancers into the performance Can unprecedented variation), he did not hesitate to promise that it should be arranged. He agreed to produce six women who could go in trance and who would take part in the self-stabbing, but he said that they would not appear until after the men had done the kris dance, as they would not know that part. When the performance took place, however (and without previous rehearsal), there were ten women in the kris dance— equal to the number of men—and twelve went into trance. From the Westerners' standpoint, performances arranged through Rawa were always just a little better than might have been expected. On one occasion he invited all of us, and Walter Spies, in particular, to see a new performance by the group, based on quite a different story from the one they usually gave, and involving a revival of an old-style spear dance remaining in the memories of the oldest men. Rawa did not act in the play. He presented offerings at the beginning and the end of the performance, and in the interim sat alone and aloof in a central position of the performance place, watching not so much the play itself as the effect of it upon the Westerners present. He wore an expression of extreme anxiety. The photographs (Figs. 67 and 68) were taken of him during the performance. Where he is looking up and over his left shoulder, he is intent upon Spies, who was photographing from the high platform. Where he smiles, he is smiling at the approval of his foreign patrons, not in response to the humor of the play. Throughout the performance, whenever his attention rested upon the action, it was with an abstracted air, as if he were not witnessing it as himself but endeavoring to visualize the impression it was making upon us. At the exciting point of the play, when the men armed with spears attacked the masked figure of a giant bird, the contrast between the expression on the faces of the orchestra players, who sat immediately behind him and

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that on Rawa's face was very marked. T h e musicians leaned forward, extremely intent and interested, as if they were themselves involved in the action. Rawa's face was a blank. It seemed that Rawa's feelings and attention were so fixed upon the Western audience that he had none left for participation in the illusion created by the play. It is clear that foreign patronage of their performances was of considerable financial advantage to the group, but the amount which they received was not sufficient to enrich any one individual. T h e regular charge was fifteen guilders, and according to Balinese custom each of the 105 households belonging to the sehaha had a share in it. T h e actors and the trancers did not receive any greater part than those who did manual labor. For example, when we inquired what, if anything, was the reward given the ten extra women performers on the special occasion when we had asked for them, we were told, "Their husbands did not have to carry the gamelan instruments." Rawa himself, because he had to share equally with the others, could not be motivated by any special financial greed in his exaggerated attachment to white persons. Rather it seems that he found in contact with them a reassurance which he particularly needed. W e have noted the isolation of his position in space, both in trance and out. Whenever we ran across him at a temple festival near his village, he was alone. It was customary for Balinese to go about in pairs (as a rule the boys and men had some friend who was a favorite companion), and when they went visiting in other villages they would hang on to each other, standing or sitting close together, often with an arm thrown round the companion's neck. (See photo of G M and Rena). I never saw Rawa displaying affection in this way toward any other Balinese, nor any other Balinese expressing any affection for him. Probably he clung to Westerners for the reason that he lacked friendly relations with his own people. W e collected some evidence to show that Rawa was definitely unpopular in his group. Because of the Balinese aversion to gossip, be-

District cause of their reluctance ever to say anything disparaging of one another, one could very rarely hear any direct exposition of a man's faults. One could only pick up hints here and there and note the negative evidence, the things that are not said. T h e most important fact in connection with Rawa's position in the village is that he was not a native of Pagoetan but had married into it. T h e people of Pagoetan had not forgotten this, and several times I heard them speak of him as an outsider (anak tios). In spite of his position as impresario, or middle man, between the group and its foreign patrons, in spite of the fact that it was through him that the first contact was made with Westerners, and that almost all the ordered performances were arranged through his agency, I never heard any member of the Pagoetan group give him credit for this function. Although we ourselves modified the performance through directions given to Rawa, when other members of the group were asked who was responsible for the form of the play or whose idea a certain innovation was, they answered by referring to I Doerja the storyexpert as "the man who knows" or by saying that they all worked together, never mentioning Rawa as a leader or as an especially valuable member of the association. Further, when we had learned to mistrust Rawa's statements regarding technical points in the story and his version of events occurring in the village, we found that others of the Pagoetan group showed the same mistrust of him as an authority. For example, one day in the temple, when my secretary and I were holding a conversation with Rawa, the high-caste temple priest Anak Agoeng Njoman, and another member of the group, I Ompog, we directed our questions to Rawa. He was the one we knew best, and we were at the time still vague as to the organization of the temple. I Ompog seemed to be annoyed at us for addressing our inquiries to Rawa. He took pains to explain to us that Rawa was not the only priest of the temple and that Anak Agoeng Njoman was the only one who could officiate at the Big Shrine (Gedong Ageng). W e asked Rawa then if the god of the shrine in his charge,

Village

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Betara Sakenan, ever made the pilgrimage to the island where Sal^nan lies. I Ompog burst in with something like this: "I've never seen the god go to Sak£nan. Why do you ask Rawa? He's only just come here; he became a sentana." The fact was that Rawa married as a sentana the daughter of the former temple priest and in this way managed to inherit the priestly function. He came originally from quite a different district, near the town of Den Pasar. Although he had held for four years the position of temple priest inherited from his father-in-law, the people of Pagoetan persisted in considering him something of an outsider, as if he had usurped the rights. It is to be noted that the high-caste priest Anak Agoeng Njoman was also a sentana and that he came from the neighboring bandjar Toeboeh, not from Pagoetan itself. But I never heard these facts held against him with any disparaging implication, such as in Ompog's outburst just quoted. At another time a different informant, a sweet-natured boy who generally had nothing but good to say of people, told us that the old priest who was Rawa's father-in-law had been in charge of the Barong. "Rawa is a stranger [unrelated] from afar," he said. 'When the old man died, Rawa became temple priest because he often goes in trance. Anak Agoeng Njoman is the priest for the Great Shrine; he can climb up on high. When Rawa officiates, he must do it down below [on the ground]." The implications of statements such as these would not be sufficient evidence of unfriendly feeling toward Rawa were they not supported by other observations. The lack of affection displayed for him by any of his associates, their lack of gratitude for his undoubted helpfulness in making their show a success, his apparent compensatory need for reassurance at the hands of Westerners, the very aggressiveness of his trance behavior, and the violent hostility toward him shown by various individuals at the trance performance which we will describe later—all tend to make these statements significant. The weight of the evidence, taken all together, suggests that his fellow-villagers recognized Rawa as an un-

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balanced personality, that they were wary of him as a show-off, as a man who used devious ways to bring himself into prominence, that in the normal course of life they were patient with him, but that at times his nonsense so exasperated them that they had to release their feelings by pulling his nose and ears or by calling him down in public. On December 16, 1937, we had ordered a performance, which our whole group attended. Rawa appeared in the center of the performance place between the double lines of male trancers and of female trancers, just as the preliminary kris dances had taken place. He was brandishing two krisses—itself an unusual and exhibitionistic point in trance behavior. He attacked first his head, then his chest, while all about him the other trancers began also to stab themselves. Almost at once he had wounded himself, cutting a deep gash in his chest over the left breast. Immediately he was surrounded by attendants wanting to disarm him and by other trancers who hurled themselves upon him to suck at the gushing blood. KM, who followed him particularly at this time, reported: He seemed quite limp and unaware as he was picked up and taken into the temple. As soon as they were inside the temple, they carried him to the north wall of the temple, in back of the shrines along it. By the time he reached there, and they had placed him on a big stone in back of one of these shrines, he opened his eyes and gazed down at the wound from which the blood was spurting with each heartbeat At this time he did not seem to be in any way unconscious, for he wiped the blood away, not unsteadily, and walked from the shrine to the wall, a distance of two meters, where he pulled off some leaves and wiped the wound and his hands. Two men rushed at him and literally dragged him back, and at this moment they seemed much more entranced than he was. By now many other people who had been in trance were beginning to be brought into the court, also back of the shrines. Men who had held krisses and who were still in trance, as soon as they saw Rawa, again seated on the big stone, ran toward him and tried to suck the blood awav

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again. Other men, not in trance, have searched for leaves of the red hibiscus to stuff into the wound, and this they try to do, pulling away the men sucking the blood. ( O n e man had his mouth on the wound while a second licked around it wherever the blood trickled down.) The Barong has been brought into the yard and placed in front of the Main Shrine. All the trance people are on the ground, some struggling, others limp, most of them being forcibly held. When Rawa hears the Barong come into the court, he rises to go toward it. At this moment Anak Agoeng Njoman enters and rushes up to Rawa, who is surrounded by the kris men, all still struggling and some of them getting up. Rawa at the sight of him immediately goes into a trance so violent that in only a moment he has become limp and fallen to the ground. They raise him and place him on the stone again. Anak Agoeng Njoman goes to him, strikes at the wound, sucks at it until the leaves are out and the blood has begun to flow again, and then darts around in back of the shrine toward the Barong shouting something, completely unintelligible in the noise. 11:40 A.M. Men bring arak and pour it into the wound of Rawa, which is again bleeding badly. I Neka comes, and, when he sees what is going on, he raises his foot and puts the sole of it on the wound, kicks at it, challenges him, making noises all the time and brandishing his arms about, and at last the blood is coming out so that one of the other persons in trance knocks his foot off and begins to suck the blood again. T h e Barong is brought in to him from the Main Shrine and champs his jaws over him. They take the Barong's whiskers and brush them over Rawa's face. A paste is brought and some leaves which Anak Agoeng Njoman crunches up in his mouth and then stuffs into the wound ( a combination of lime and leaves). After he has given aid to the

District wound, Anak Agoeng Njoman takes Rawa by the hair, which is pretty long, and literally tries to raise him from the seat by the hair of his head. H e fails, so he takes the back of his hand and strikes him first on one cheek, then on the other, so that I could not see how Rawa could help having two black eyes. Men began to scream and cry a little while this was going on, and both men and women near me tried to plead with Anak Agoeng Njoman to stop. But Anak Agoeng Njoman was either very much entranced himself or else he has a private quarrel with Rawa, for he took him by the nose and twisted it into his face, then twisted and pulled his ears, and punctuated all this with body and face blows while he kept a steady string of language pouring forth. . . . [MK reports what he said to Rawa at this point.] "You don't know anything. There are many people here. You try to become famous, act proudly; [you think] the top of your head will send forth flames.13 I am kind to you, but you don't know that I am kind to you, I Rawa." [KM continues.] While others are trying to hold the remaining kris men, who are stamping and fighting, trying to get at Rawa, some helpers pull off Anak Agoeng Njoman as he tries again to pull Rawa by the hair. Rawa during this awful abuse seemed pretty unconscious and finally slumped to the ground as Anak Agoeng Njoman was pulled from him. Rawa is then lifted and carried back to the stone in back of the shrine. 11:45

11:50

Rawa is given arak in a leaf while the kris men are laid out in a line. . . . Holy water is given Rawa, and the brazier, without any result. . . . Rawa is still not out of trance.

" T h e phrase is ngendih pabaattni. People possessed of magic power (sakti) are supposed to be able to emanate fire from the frontal suture. This is a taunt: Rawa is accused of trying to show magic power which he manifestly does not command.

Village Strife Played Out in Trance Rawa sits limply in a sort of half-trance. Rawa comes out of trance and moves out on the mat in front of the Barong, where he sits. I Neka now gets into the front legs of the Barong and dances. He puts the Barong head over Rawa and covers him with the hair and mane, stamping on him. He keeps this up until Rawa falls completely limp so that they have to lift him to the mat where the others are all seated. . . . The way the Barong had stepped on Rawa while he was smothering him with his hair apparently had been rougher than one would suppose, for by the time they had carried the Barong man to the front mat, the wound on Rawa had begun to bleed rather badly again. [MM, who was following other trancers at this time, nevertheless noted:] Rawa seems to be a target which excites the others in trance. [And as the maltreatment continued], KM says that she thinks Rawa is badly wounded, that they haven't been able to stop the blood, and it was spurting. All through the rest of the recording up to the chickeneating scene I was wondering what would happen if he died and what ought to be done about it, now, if he needed medical care. [Again] I suggest that they drag Roegroeg off, as Rawa cannot stand another attack. [MK's full report of the same sequence was:] Rawa was seated above, on the edge of the northern shrine, and he sat facing the shrine and put his arms around it. People said to Rawa, "Be still, be still." But Rawa got up again and took a kris and attacked himself. The men who had ceased to ngoerek also got up, all of them, and beat their chests. Once more they were caught and taken back to the north of the shrines. Rawa was seated once more on the side of the shrine as before. His chest was cleaned 11:52

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with arak. He said, "Not on the wound, away from the wound. Don't touch it." Then Neka came and stamped upon the wound of Rawa. When he had stamped upon it, he went away. Anak Agoeng Njoman then stood before Rawa and prayed. He dabbed spittle upon the wound of Rawa. Then the wound was stuffed with a blood-stopping medicine of betel. While Anak Agoeng Njoman was attending to Rawa, the Barong was standing behind Anak Agoeng Njoman, snapping his jaws. Rawa got up, perhaps wanting to ngoerek again. Anak Agoeng Njoman took hold of Rawa's hair; he twisted his ears and hit him in the face. Rawa exclaimed, 'I'm not doing anything, I'm not doing anything." From the south of the shrine I Roegroeg came and threw his arms around Rawa. Anak Agoeng Njoman took hold of Roegroeg's hair, and Roegroeg fell down upon the ground. Anak Agoeng Njoman then put his foot on Roegroeg's neck. Anak Agoeng Njoman called out to Rawa, "You don't know anything. . . ." [Here follows the abuse quoted above.]

MK's impression was that "Anak Agoeng Njoman was angry with Rawa because he wanted to show that he was brave; after he was cut he wanted to show people again that he was brave." The other Balinese witness, GM, said afterward, "Rawa must have been ashamed because he was wounded. People would think he was pretending to be in trance. He wanted to ngoerek again to show that he could. Anak Agoeng Njoman was angry and would not allow him to, lest he wound himself again." My own impression was that Anak Agoeng Njoman was resorting to forcible treatment to snap Rawa out of his hysterical state. It did not occur to me at the time that Anak Agoeng Njoman himself was in any way out of control, but it was clear that a good deal of feeling was expressed in his behavior. I wrote in my notes:

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"I think he is trying to bring him to, at the same time taking out a little of his animosity for Rawa's nonsense." KM, on the other hand, was so struck by the violence of Anak Agoeng Njoman's behavior towards Rawa that she thought him to be in trance or, at any rate, "not himself." In support of her view is MK's description of his treatment of another trancer, Roegroeg, as he could hardly have been also harboring a grudge against Roegroeg, whom he also pulled by the hair and trod upon. Rawa made himself on this occasion very much the center of interest. W e knew at the time that he had within the month taken away the wife of another man. He had, in fact, on December 5, approached me to ask my assistance in making what he called a "rekis" (a request, a petition) to the Resident, for he said he was in trouble over having taken a woman. I discouraged this idea, noting only that it was typical of Rawa to want to turn to the highest white authority upon the island to aid him in the complications of his private life. The man whose wife Rawa took lived in the northern division of the village. Rawa had seduced her and later taken her away to his own house, as he said, "because she was pregnant." W e suspected that some of the animosity displayed by his fellowvillagers during the trance might be attributed to this circumstance. It is a common enough occurrence in Bali and brings no particular dishonor. But if we had found that the men who brutally handled Rawa in trance were relations of the woman's husband, or that there had been some bad feeling between the northern division to which the husband belonged and the southern division to which Rawa belonged which found expression in the trance hostilities, we should have seen a vengeful motive for his maltreatment. The evidence on both these hypotheses was completely negative. An impartial informant from Pagoetan, related neither to Rawa nor to the injured husband, to whom we talked privately on December 20, discussed the fact that Rawa had stolen the woman without qualifying it with any emotion whatsoever. He very simply connected Rawa's wounding himself with

District the "unclean" state of a man who has recendy taken a woman. When we mentioned it, the informant said, "There are 118 demons (oeniwoenen, kala) at the Poera Babian. He [Rawa] is still impure Qngeletehan). He took a woman, not yet a month ago." The idea here is that the temple is such a magically powerful site that any man who was impure would be in danger. It should be noted that the impurity referred to is the state which follows any marriage, not a moral impurity because he took another man's wife. My secretary put in of his own accord this comment: "But he did go in trance and ngoerek at Dendjalan [December 11], and that was since he took the woman." Our informant answered, "Perhaps he was not quite dark [that is, deeply in trance]." My secretary was careful to note in his report that Rawa had attacked himself with two krisses, first in the head, and then in the chest, and that "nothing had happened." It was after this that he wounded himself. GM's volunteered explanation of this was: "Perhaps the kala came into him for a moment [Rawa went in trance and was able to stab himself without injury]; and then, because he was unclean, the kala didn't want to stay; then Rawa wounded himself." On December 21, 14 the day following these discussions and five days after the performance at which the hostilities towards Rawa took place, the regular temple festival of the Poera Babian was celebrated. The famous I Marsa who represents the god of the Barong went into trance. During the course of his impressive trance, which will later be described in detail, Marsa in his capacity as spokesman of the god called upon Rawa to admit in public his fault "of having taken a wife." Rawa was shamed before the village, and there was contained in the trance " It was owing to Margaret Mead's sense of something brewing in the situation that we followed up the performance of December 16 and returned to the village for further interviews and to cover the calendric festival which occurred five days later. At her insistence G M and I covered the festival. She was proven to be absolutely right in her prognosis. If we had not followed up in this case, we would have missed an important part of the sequence.

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talk a broad hint that his services as priest were no longer welcome. But according to Balinese custom a ceremonial "penance" was prescribed to counterbalance the wrong and to reinstate him. So strongly did the trancer Marsa bear down upon Rawa that members of the audience called out from the back, "Don't speak like that here! If he is wrong, let him go!" There could be no question but that this public denunciation of Rawa was of the same order as the physical violence done to him on December 16, evidence of a desire to correct him in his bumptious ways. It was characteristic of Balinese culture that the demand for offerings imposed upon him was not of prohibitive value and that, even as there was no malicious gossip about him after he stole the other man's wife, here there was no serious attempt to deprive him of his priestly function. The denunciation, the penalty, and the maltreatment actually did litde to lessen Rawa's selfesteem. Not quite a month after these events Rawa came to the house, and we talked with him about them. W e asked what he had done wrong to occasion them. He said, Ί was not wrong, but mistaken." He made a distinction between the Balinese word salah (wrong, punishable), which I had used, and the word pelih (wrong, mistaken), which he applied to his own case. "That wasn't salah," he said, "If it had been salah, I should have died. That was pelih. Once before I was salah, I was made ill (ge/etn) for a whole month. T h e reason I was mistaken was that I had had the purification in the house, not in the temple. I had a Brahmana High Priest officiate instead of Anak Agoeng Njoman." Here he was referring to the penalty imposed on him through I Marsa's trance, which was that he should give the offerings three times over again in the temple and that Anak Agoeng Njoman should officiate. H e spoke as if the wrong had to do only with the manner of the purification following the marriage, not with the marriage itself, nor with his daring to attempt self-stabbing when he was still impure, as suggested by our other informant. He reinforced his statement that he could not have been salah or he would

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have been ill or even died, by telling us that (to him) "salah is the same as kesisipang," which means "to be made ill by the gods as a punishment." He went on to say that he was sure he could not have been salah, because if he were the gods would not be pleased with him, and if the gods were not pleased with him he would not have success with women. T h e implication is that there was nothing wrong with his taking the other man's wife, because if he had been wrong he would not have got her. The only way a man can tell if he is right or wrong is by the gods' favor: if he is healthy, prosperous, and successful in his ventures, it is a sign that the gods are pleased. This attitude takes the place of morality. If you are in the right (patoet), the venture goes through (pajoe); if it goes through, you must be right. Rawa's cockiness did not seem to be in the least reduced by these experiences. He boasted to us that he had had altogether four wives, of whom one died and one went home. (Becoming the sentana husband of a girl and the heir of her father does not preclude other marriages.) He said he had also one more woman, a neighbor of his, whom he had not yet married. Certainly this made an exceptionally large number of marriages for a Balinese, although it would not be an unusual number if they had been only love affairs. One suspects that Rawa as a ladykiller was spurred on by much the same need for reassurance as that which we observed in his relation with Westerners. Very possibly he was not content merely to seduce the women, but he wanted to take them home with him and to formalize the marriage as a proof of his conquest—just as he wanted to keep on shaking hands with his new-found friends. Such an unsatisfied need makes congruent the vanity, the aloneness, the soft ingratiating mannerisms of his behavior in the normal state, and the exhibitionistic violence of his behavior in trance. In trance and out he was a good showman; and maladjusted as he was, through trance forms, he had found a place in which he could be successful.

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ANAK

AGOENC

NJOMAN

Anak Agoeng Njoman (Fig- 74) was a man of about forty, chief temple priest of the Poera Babian, efficient at his job and respected by his fellow-villagers. H e had a sensitive face, with eyes rather far set, a small nose, a pleasant smile, and withal a look of determination. He affected to wear his hair half-long, in the manner of a Boda High Priest. It was always well combed and oiled, and often he had a hibiscus flower behind his ear. I never saw him wearing a headcloth. H e was of medium height, neither tall nor short, and lighdy built. H e had no outstanding idiosyncratic mannerisms, his demeanor was characteristically self-possessed and modest It was only after I had been several times to Pagoetan performances that I remarked him at all as a person of more importance than another. H e did not go into trance. He was always present, however, at the hired performances, and it was upon him to a great extent that the responsibility rested for keeping the other trancers under control and for bringing them out. Usually he appeared among them with a bowl of holy water or a brazier as soon as they had begun to grow violent. But he did not press himself forward in any way nor manage to turn his performance of official duties into "an act," as Rawa did. H e was not without talent as an actor, however, for once we saw him play the role of the Balian in the Tjalonarang play. This is a comic part. It requires no training in the classical steps and postures, but a gift for mining, as the Balian goes through a burlesque of divination in trance. As a rule we have seen this part played by men who were also genuine trancers (Rena of Dendjalan, Ompog of Pagoetan). Anak Agoeng Njoman gave a creditable but not a spectacular performance. Anak Agoeng Njoman had a certain amount of prestige not only as temple priest but as a representative of the high-caste family of the descendants of Tjokorda Ged£ Meregan, the founder of the temple's Chief Shrine. He mar-

District

SARWI

(OR

MEHANGGl)

ried as a sentana the daughter of the Anak Agoeng of Toeboeh, and therefore did not live in Pagoetan itself, but in the neighboring bandjar of Toeboeh. It is indicative of his modesty and of the respect in which he was held by the Pagoetan people that two different informants went out of their way to explain to us that he was priest for the Chief Shrine and therefore in a higher position than Rawa. It is also significant that on the occasion of Marsa's important trance, when the god of the temple came down to speak, proceedings were halted until Anak Agoeng Njoman could be summoned, although Rawa and several of the substitute priests were present. Marsa himself, in trance, cried out for Anak Agoeng Njoman, and various other members of the group seemed much concerned that he should be called to the scene. His behavior on this occasion was mild, benevolent, forceful, and responsible. H e handled Marsa firmly when he thought he went too far, but he did not lose his temper. Throughout the trance talk which Marsa gave he treated him with respectful and almost affectionate consideration. He was humble but not grovelling, neither touchy nor upset when the god said something which might have been a rebuke to him. Rather he seemed amused, interested, and extremely self-possessed. After the session he spoke to me enthusiastically of what had occurred and seemed genuinely pleased that his god had "come down." It is my impression that such behavior was much more characteristic of him than the brutal behavior he displayed at the time when Rawa was wounded. I think on that day he was beyond himself, that he felt the responsibility of the twenty-six trancers all running wild at once— an unusually large number—and that, as they kept bursting into violence like a fire that has died down and then leaps up once more in flames, he became desperate in his attempt to quiet them. N o doubt he was carried awav by

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the cumulative excitement, and a less balanced they are themselves excited and would prefer to personality in his place might indeed have fallen run away.16 The hysterical reaction was apt to into trance, M K noted in his report of that day be the more marked when an accident occurred how another member who was not in trance was at a trance performance, for the magically danroused to a pitch of excitement approaching gerous happening carried with it the still more trance as he endeavored to wrest away the magically dangerous complication of something krisses. "I Renteng, formerly accustomed to be going wrong in the supernatural manifestations. one of those who ngoerek, was taking away the The report of MK notes that Anak Agoeng krisses of the men who were doing ngoerek. T h e Njoman first attempted to give aid to Rawa, voice of Renteng as he took hold of the krisses according to his lights, by praying and by applywas violent like that of one entranced (paling) ing spitde and blood-stopping medicine to the crying 'Stop, stop'!" This boy, Renteng, was the wound, and that it was only after Rawa again well-mannered informant whom we quoted showed signs of wanting to ngoerek that he above. It was also recorded that the husbands of resorted to violence. If his attentions were actwo of the women who were carried into the companied by excitement which afterward temple entranced fell into trance at the sight of turned to brutality, we must therefore give him their wives. One of these, I Ompog, was an credit for the preliminary attentions. They were habitual trancer and had taken the part of one tinged with emotion to be considered normal in of the minor Rangdas in the preceding play but a Balinese under the circumstances. Anak Agoeng Njoman showed, whenever we had at that time remained normal. Under these circumstances, Anak Agoeng Njoman might talked to him, a devout and vivid interest in the easily have been expected to go in trance also, gods of his temple and their attendant demons. W e recorded such statements of his as these: had he been an habitual trancer. "When there is a great earthquake, the gods He did so far desert his customary poise and mild demeanor that he was remarked by five of arrive. When there is a great earthquake, the the witnesses, three of whom had never before gods return to their home. So it is told in the identified him. KM thought that he was "either writings." "Ratoe Anom is the child of Ratoe Gede very much entranced himself or else he has a private quarrel with Rawa." Both Balinese wit- Poeseh Babian." Of Marsa's trance: "This indeed is the nesses mentioned the anger he manifested toward Rawa. M M listed him in her notes as "the representative (tafäkan) who comes but selhaughty high-caste temple priest who seems to dom, the representative of Ratoe Anom. He hate Rawa." I think the evidence is sufficient to indeed is the spokesman (djoeroe fcaos) of conclude that on this particular day the intensity the god here. When utterance is beseeched, he of the trance situation betrayed Anak Agoeng is the one to make the utterance. Marsa is his Njoman into releasing his feelings in a manner name; Ratoe Anom it is who enters him. Neka exceptional for him and that he did in fact bear is entered by I Batoe; he is a follower of the god here. Renis is also entered by a follower; that toward Rawa a warranted animosity. one is called Kalan Taka. I Tamboer is entered One more point must be noted in connection with his maltreatment of the wounded man. The by a kala too, another follower of the god here, Balinese react to any accident with an exag- called Kalan Djaja. Here [in this temple] there gerated emotional response which has nothing are a great number of spirits (heboetan), there to do with pity. They are, like people who faint are andja-andja [bodies without legs, thighs,· foreat the sight of blood, of not much use in an legs, and so forth], A great many, they number w In the case of a performance at Blakioeh which we emergency. Often their application of first aid did not witness, an actor went in trance and mortally appears to us clumsy, misguided, and extraorwounded another player. All the witnesses to whom we dinarily lacking in compassion. This is because talked said they ran away as soon as it happened.

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118. T h e r e are Banaspati, Banaspati Radja, Widiadari, Widiadara, Betara Loemanglang. Betara Loemanglang is the one who enters the women." T h e priest showed himself thoroughly conversant with the names and identities of the spirits. Whenever we had any questions to ask

District regarding them, we were referred to him. And in evidence of his earnestness, this was the prayer he recited when, in a frenzy, he could not manage to bring Rawa and the others out of trance: " O h Demons, O h Great Demons, go home!"

DEWA KETOET KELENANG (OR SENGKEET) Dewa Ketoet Kel£nang, aged about forty-five, was one of the more outstanding trancers in Pagoetan, in that he habitually played the chief Rangda and at every performance which we witnessed was one of the last to come out of trance. H e was a man of exceptional appearance, very tall, and with a tower-shaped forehead and elongated face which made him look as if the whole man had been stretched. His resemblance to Kretschmer's ' T o w e r - s k u l l " 1 8 was so striking that both G B and I remarked upon it. M M ' s impression was "very tall, and stiff in movement, extremely thin, britde, jerky." H e frequently met arriving guests at the crossroads when a performance was scheduled, and like Rawa, enjoyed shaking hands with them. I believe he was sent as an emissary by the group and not that he had singled himself out for this function. During the part of the play when he had nothing to do, he crouched down, sitting on the sidelines or close before the orchestra—a place of vantage without being conspicuous—and from there kept an eye on the proceedings. H e was not one of those who hovered about the white guests. Rather his attention was fixed upon the performance, to see that it went off well. From his place he called out and gave directions. I f the sash belonging to one of the little dancers came loose, D6wa Ketoet went forward to rearrange it ( F i g . 7 5 ) . O n the whole his attitude was very cooperative and unassuming. H e undoubtedly was chosen to play the chief " E . Kietschmer, Physique and Character 1925), Plate 19.

(London,

Rangda—there are five of them in the Pagoetan performance—on account of his imposing stature, for the bigger the Rangda, the more terrifying she appears. B u t he was also gifted as a dancer. T h e day that the revival of the spear dance took place, D έ w a Ketoet, since he was one of the older men, seemed to remember most clearly how it should go. H e had a position in the front rank, and it fell to him to give the orchestra their cues for changes in the music. During the Tjalonarang play, he appeared as Rangda, and was attacked successively by the King's Minister, the Barong, and the entire line of kris dancers. As a rule he would go in trance here and be carried into the temple in a horizontal position, as if he were rigid. O n December 16, M K recorded that he was caught as he was about to fall. M M noted the horizontal position, but she was not quite sure if he were rigid. W h e n the performance took place at night he would be laid upon the steep steps leading up to the main shrine, where he would look tremendous and very impressive. O n December 16, as it was midday, he was laid upon a roofed platform to one side and, except for being fanned occasionally, left quite alone during the whole period ( 1 1 : 2 5 - 1 2 : 1 5 ) . ( S e e Fig. 7 6 . ) H e lay perfectly straight and still, apparently unconscious. It was customary to bring him down from his high place and seat him upon a mat before the main shrine for the final coming-out and the chicken-eating scene. O n December 16 five men carried him down and set him in position as if he were a great lifeless puppet. H e then gave a little jump, an upward jerk of the body, accom-

Village Strife Played Out in panied by a gasp. T h e most curious postural idiosyncracy of his was noted at the time. A s he was carried down, his hands were seen to b e joined, the thumbs together and pointing u p ward ( t h e ritual position for meditation). T h i s position of the hands was apparendy with him an automatism, for G B had remarked it and photographed him in that pose before he went in trance, while he sat watching the performance ( F i g s . 69, 70, 7 1 ) . It has a certain stiffness and restraint particularly suitable to him as a personality. T w i c e I saw D έ w a Ketoet b e the m a n who "eats the chicken." T h e r e was apparendy no previous understanding between the members as to who should get it and, as a rule, anyone who manifested the desire to eat it could do so. B u t on December 16, we were all surprised to see I N e k a , also a chicken-eater, take the chicken, go through all the motions of preparing to devour it, and then turn round and pass it towards D e w a Ketoet. N o sign was given which could account for the sudden change. D e w a Ketoet accepted the chicken dutifully but "ate" it without enthusiasm. K M said he "had the chicken put into his hands by two men who guided it to his mouth." M M recorded his action thus: " D e w a Ketoet simply clamps his mouth shut on the head of the chicken, so that in order to get the body, the assistants have to twist its neck and pull the body off." G B a d d e d : "the assistants d u g the head out of his mouth with their fingers and threw it away." Immediately arak was poured into his mouth. H e was then sprinkled with holy water and gave another j u m p as before. H e made the customary reverence, rose, walked across the court to the Barong to wipe his face in its beard. After this he seemed quite normal and came to stand round us with the rest of the crowd as we collected our equipment to depart.

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T h e other time I saw Dewa Ketoet eat the chicken was also at a daylight performance, following the spear dance revival, at which there had been no trance. I noted particularly that as he took the chicken's head in his mouth he seemed overcome with revulsion, he gulped, his face flushed, and tears came into his eyes, as if the action nauseated him. After it was removed, he continued to gulp, and I thought for a moment he would be ill. It occurred to me that the chicken-eating as a necessary ritual act must be a most revolting experience for anyone who is not or has not been recently in trance. But the passive, nonresistant but withal nonparticipating manner of D6wa Ketoet's "eating" the chicken when he was, supposedly, in trance, suggests that he performed the action only because it was required of him. H e showed no relish of it, none of the gluttonous, animal-like urge which we observed in other trancers, to pounce and to gnaw upon it. Neither did the very idea of taking the live chicken in his mouth send him off into trance, as it did Rawa, when it was presented to him in the normal state. Probably D έ w a Ketoet did it just as he fulfilled his other functions, because the group counted upon him to do so. N o t e that although he played the fierce role of Rangda, his docility in the advanced state of trance was remarkable, to the extent that the group did not feel any need to guard him when he had "passed out." T h e y simply laid him down and went off and left him until they had time to attend to him, as if they were quite sure that he would not become violent nor play any tricks. D e w a Ketoet, although he ranked in caste with Anak Agoeng N j o m a n , was not called by the higher title, because he did not marry into the more powerful family. H e was a farmer and, when he was not pursuing his dramatic vocation, he spent his time working in the fields.

ΝΒΚΛ N e k a was an old man, toothless, with an evil look ( F i g . 8 2 ) . H e was perhaps sixty years old,

and rheumatic, but in trance he was uncommonly active. H e belonged definitely in the

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theatrical category of trancers. Like Rawa, he was always ready to show off, but he did not make himself appear a vain and splendid fellow. Rather he cast himself in a Machiavellian role, crafty and sinister, and seemed always to be saying, "See what a devil I am." Indeed he was known to be possessed in trance by a demon, a special one who went by the name of I Batoe (stone). And he himself let slip no opportunity to remind the audience of his demonic identity. He was, and had been apparently for over thirty years, an important member of the Pagoetan dramatic group. He was one of the old Baris dancers, and it is remembered that he was one of those to go in trance at the "trial" ( ngerihang) of the Rangda, said to have been made shordy after the Dutch conquest. The younger men said that he had been a trancer as long as they had known him. Besides this, he habitually played the front legs of the Barong. Although the members of his group spoke of him always as a Barong player and did not seem to know that he had ever had anything to do with Rangdas, we once saw him wear the Rangda mask at a trance ritual in the village of Tegaltamoe. He will perhaps be remembered from the report of the festival held in the Poera Dalem there on December 5, 1937, as the old man who gave such a theatrical performance, especially as he was on the point of entering the Rangda figure, and who was present at the final coming out in his Rangda part, as if he were one of the Barongs. Although for the Pagoetan performances there were many other players who danced in the Barong, Neka seemed to take it upon himself to be in the figure for ceremonially important parts of the ritual. He had a strong identification with the Barong and behaved often after he had got out from under it as if he were still the front legs. Further, he did not hesitate to behave as himself while he was in it: he would point through the hole under the mask, call out demands and insults to others, and partake of generous portions of arak, lifting up the mask while he did so. He seemed to rely on alcoholic stimulation more than the average trancer, and the libations offered to him were

District always poured down his throat, not on the ground. He was a chicken-eater, a fire-eater, and a trance-talker. The little scenes which he put on in the temples were interesting as pantomime, but there was seldom any value in what his demon said, and the others did not seem to pay much attention to his utterances. On the other hand, he was often spoken of by informants from Pagoetan as a trancer possessed by a demon, not by a god, and they did not doubt the genuineness of his trance. Rawa quoted to us as a proof of genuineness an occasion when Neka "bathed himself with fire." He said, speaking of the demons inhabiting the temples: "I Batoe, that is, I Neka. He once went through a test (taen metjontoan)·, he bathed with fire. Nothing happened; he was unhurt." As was often the case with trancers of long standing, Neka showed a facility for going into the trance state and also an attentiveness to what was going on about him, as if he were guiding his action in accordance with the flow of events, without, however, dropping his role. In other words, he did not seem to be "beyond himself" to the extent of being carried away by his own experience to true oblivion to outside circumstances. This facility and this awareness we could interpret in two ways. Either the trancer has from long practice become accustomed to enter a state of only slight disassociation in which, because of his familiarity with his particular trance role, he nevertheless behaves as if he were very much entranced; or he is indeed in a profound state of trance, but, because of the long practice, he is no longer so concerned with the strangeness of the sensations and impulses he experiences in the disassociated state as is the less accustomed trancer and therefore is able to take a less introverted view than theirs and to direct his attention to events outside of himself. A person who is unaccustomed to fainting is extremely concerned with the odd sensations which accompany it: the experience itself constitutes an all absorbing hypnotic focus which leads to oblivion. But there are persons who have fainted often and who are less disturbed by the oncom-

Village Strife Played Out in ing symptoms. Such a person recognizes the sensations without emotion; he remembers to put his head down or to remove himself to a more convenient place for the anticipated "pass-out"; he does not let himself go and seldom quite loses consciousness. There is a possible parallel between the behavior resulting from greater familiarity in the trance state and that in the experience of fainting. The younger trancers whom we studied, those who were mature but still sufficiently fresh in their response—as, for instance, Roni of Sanoer or Rena of Dendjalan —gave an impression of greater absorption in the trance than such veterans as Djero Plasa or Neka. Although the old-timers at the game would adapt their behavior to circumstance in such a way as to cast doubt upon their insensibility, it is none the less possible that they were in a state which we can call disassociation but which in their cases did not debar them from exerting this sort of attention. An example was the first time I saw Neka, on February 18, 1937, at a hired performance. W e were inside the temple court for the final coming out and the chicken-eating scene. (There were nine Westerners present, standing in a semicircle about the group of priests who were seated on the ground, attending to the offerings. T h e mask of the chief Rangda had been put into its basket and was held upon the head of a man who stood on the opposite side of the priests' group from us, waiting for the procession to form so that the mask might be carried away out of the temple. Neka was on the ground, in trance, snorting and snoring, as was his wont. The live chick was handed to him, and it was clear that he was about to devour it. [Notes of JB] He holds it out before him by the two outspread wings, the chick goes peep-peep-peep. Suddenly, just as he is about to bite, the Rangda mask falls out of its basket. He registers, turns his head towards the scene of excitement, but goes on holding the chicken before him. . . . He holds pose, looking again at chick. What happened was the Rangda mask . . .

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somehow or other half fell out of its basket. There were three or four people there, and they managed to catch it. Great excitement. People call out, 'Tut it on, put it on!" and it is put on a man's head, but with the mask over his forehead, not over his face, while the other people gather up the hair. Then they lay the hair in the basket, and the mask, and many directions are called out to "Go on, go on!" The Rangda mask is bome out. Now I Neka has a chance to eat his chicken. He is still holding it by the wings, brings it to his mouth, bites off the head, throws down the body. . . . He is given a drink of arak-berem. He now comes out, slapping his chest violendy as he does so. [End of JB's notes] In this instance, Neka delayed his litde act, timing it in accordance with the unforeseen accident to the Rangda mask which momentarily diverted the attention of the audience. He himself obviously responded to the happening and held back his own dramatic turn until the competitive interest had been removed. On the occasion of Marsa's trance (December 21), he again displayed this ability to calculate his effects, for he remained in abeyance while the interest was focused on Marsa and burst out in his usual antics as soon as Marsa had finished. Again, on December 5, when he spontaneously "became Rangda" at the Tegaltamoe festival, I noted after the mask had been placed upon him: "Neka, the Rangda man, dances out a litde in the court; he is stretching out his right hand to the side. One of the priests comes running down the steps holding out to him the white cloth (Rangda's magic weapon); he grasps it as if he were waiting for it and dances off round the court." His behavior on December 16 has been described in part: he was the man who approached the injured Rawa and placed first one foot and then the other on the wound. MK's interpretation of this behavior is that "he was acting as the front legs of the Barong (although he was not in

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it at the time), and his action was curative in intention." Later he was the man who leaped upon Rawa's back, this time actually in the Barong. But in the meanwhile he had put on a little scene with another trancer, another older man of much the same type as Neka, called I Renis. These two had seated themselves on a mat before the main shrine, and held the following conversation, which was taken down by G M . It is significant that none of the priests were paying any attention to them at this time. They were all at the far end of the court concentrating upon Rawa and the women trancers who were still in a state of violence. Neka and Renis in their speeches appeared to resent being thus neglected: Renis: Ladder of mine [priest], [let the] circling round be finished. Come, come here all of you. A listener: Yes, I address you [I am listening]. Neka: It is I Batoe who speaks. No attention is paid to him. Renis (possessed by I Bok Barak, the demon Red Hair, just as Neka is possessed by I Batoe): Well, if Bok Barak doesn't ask for it, no attention will be paid. I have never allowed your subjects to be careless. Now there's this scramble. Even though there are women trancers (Sepermas Boelan?), what about it? I tell you, brother, don't allow it. Neka: Now if it's like that, I Batoe will teach them. Renis: Well, I'll be going now. Neka: I'm going too, I'm going too. [Pause.] I have spoken. I don't allow it. That's the way I am abused. (It should be noted that although Neka's demon announced his intention to depart, he did not do so, and Neka remained in trance for another half hour.) As G M remarked afterward, there was not much sense in what they said. So far as our records go, this conversation was typical of Neka's trance utterances. But if his words were of no particular interest, Neka's actions accompany-

District ing these scenes were often curious in the extreme and corresponded very closely to the welldefined role in which he cast himself. A series of comments upon him by different observers will illustrate the point. At the time when he had been dressed as the Rangda and was waiting in trance for the mask to be put on him, M M noted: "A man who can't stand still, keeps dancing in the compulsive way that Misi and Renoe [sanghyangs, see Chapter III] dance when the music starts before their headdresses are on." Later, when he was dancing at the other side of the court and the boy Goesti Gedjir went into violent trance, Neka as Rangda approached the grovelling boy, "as if attracted, then circled away and back again, dancing near him." M M noted: "Rangda, appearing very detached and 'innocent,' dances near to him, as if drawn there, holding her cloth, partly folded and like a child in her arms." Twenty minutes later, J B noted: "Rangda dances forward, Goesti Poetoe Soebali advancing beside her. Rangda's motions are very slow, as if running down." Then, as the Barongs were collected at one side and the offerings laid before the seated trancers to bring them out, Neka still in his mask was behind them. M M noted: "Rangda dances gendy behind them, waving her cloth a little among their heads and giving very mild snorts. She holds her tongue [which is about three feet long] in one hand and a bunch of her feathers [the hair of the costume] like a stole in the other, as she dances slowly from side to side. A priest goes up to her, and she puts her arms around his neck and whispers to him." [Notes by J B ] Brazier is brought to Rangda and presented under the mask. . . . T h e Rangda mask has been removed; the man, Neka, drops to his knees, snorting and holding his hands before his chest, parallel to each other and about eight inches apart, as cataleptic (rigidity). . . . Neka is now able to get his hands together; he pulls them up under his chin, then holds them apart again and wiggles the fingers. (Is he just regaining feeling in them?) Now he extends his

Village Strife Played Out in hands, palms down, and speaks: "Don't . . . I Batoe . . ." and snorts. His hands are still outstretched, and the fingers wiggle as he snorts. . . . Neka holds out his hand to reach for the chick which is passed to him by the priest. He is upright on his knees, his body swaying slightly. They pass over to him a brazier, too. He holds up the chick, then puts the head in his mouth, at the same time reaches for burning coals from the brazier which he forces into his mouth (simultaneously). Then he takes both out, takes a piece of burning wood which is red coals for about two inches at one end, puts this end to his mouth, and laps at it with his tongue. Priests: "Don't do that." H e joins his hands and leans over sideways, resting his head on the shoulder of the boy Gedjir who is still unconscious. Neka cries. He locks his fingers together and draws his hands up to his face, to his nose. . . . Goesti Poetoe Soebali (next him) gives an unearthly yell. Neka looks to the side. He brings himself upright on his knees again as they give him the brazier. [Compare M M on this same passage.] Rangda man is down on his knees with others. He is a little high on his knees. Offered a live chick. Holds it, then pops it in, bites. Grabs a brand [faggot] from the brazier and rubs i t — like a disinfectant—all over his mouth, as he holds the remains of the chick in his hand. They take away the chick. He goes on scrubbing his face with the brand [faggot]. People say, "Finish." He clasps his hands. Rangda woman (Goesti Poetoe Soebali) roars. Rangda man covers his face with his hands; hoarse, very audible breathing. [Compare also this notation (December 2 1 ) , when Marsa as the god had just come out of trance. Neka had been quiet and in abeyance for almost forty minutes, after previous violent activity in trance. As Marsa finished, JB noted the following.] Now it is Neka's tum. As soon as Anak Agoeng Njoman is ready to pay attention to him, he has a sudden paroxysm, stretches out his legs before him, crying out in a big voice, "I Batoe!"

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( H e has been ever so quiet up till now.) Brazier is before him; he puts his face in it, making longdrawn-out moans like a fog-horn. He takes up the coals and licks them. Begins to cry. Stretches out his hands as before, stiff and twisted, especially the left. Then he brings his hands together and up to his face, making a sound, "cluck, cluck, cluck." T h e crowd laughs and call out "Chicken!" Anak Agoeng Njoman gives holy water. . . . Neka's hands are held up for the chick; he holds his right forearm in his left hand, supporting it; the fingers of the right hand are extended and wiggle, horrible. . . . Neka gets the chick; holds it out at arms' length, three times (repeated). Then rises on his knees and turns around halfway, as if showing it to the Rangdas (or Barong), then pops it in his mouth. D£wa Ketoet comes up near to him and twists the body from the head which Neka holds in his mouth, same way it was done to Dewa Ketoet December 16. Neka licks coals. Given leaf-cup of arak. He is sprinkled, gets up. [The observations of the hands in particular coincide with this note, taken December 16.] Now on the mat beside offerings are Rawa, Neka, Renis, and a group of twenty or so. Neka has a spasm, a laughing fit; he rolls over on his back with his hands outstretched. One hand seems partly paralysed, the left one, twisted and horrible. The four fingers do not move, the thumb is at an angle. He seems to be playing with Renis, as if he were being tickled. He laughs his toothless, gruesome laugh and snorts. [This bit of action immediately preceded the scene at which Neka made as if to eat the chick and did not. M M noted:] Neka given a leaf-cup, jiggles it from side to side, with his sneering, unreal laughter. Gives a hysterical, roaring Rangda laugh. Lies down with his hands up in Rangda position. Lies back. Sits up, with same secret Machiavellian smile on his face. Leans on the shoulder of priest Anak Agoeng Njoman. Snorts and gives snoring sounds. . . . Neka sits up. . . . Neka puts his hands up to side of face, cups his hands on each side of chin. Gives a shout as they bring over

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Dewa Ketoet Kel6nang. . . . Neka says a mantra [prayer]. . . . Hands are now down, but cupped together in lap. Sits with sly relaxed smile. Looks around and talks. Leans on the shoulder of Renis and talks. . . . Boy brings little chicken. . . . Chick passed to priest who puts it in smoke, sprinkles it, using red flower, etc. Neka's hands are trembling violendy. Priest holds chicken by both wings. Neka has his hands wide apart, open. (Hands) on knees; then lifted; then taps the sides of his open hands up and down on lap. Priest puts the chicken in the smoke again. Priest gives it to Neka. Neka holds it by its wings, giggles; smiles; lifts it and roars, "ah—ah-ah," panting; holds to mouth but doesn't eat it; [and brings mouth to chicken.—GB]; reaches for fire, rubs fire in his mouth; then the chick held to mouth, holds it out again on wide wings; turns and hands it to D£wa Ketoet Kel£nang. . . . Neka rubs more fire in mouth; almost cries; given water or arak. . . . Says "Nah, nah, nah" (now, now, now). He takes leaf-cup and offers. [Compare with notes by GM] The chicken was given to Neka, and Neka also prayed, facing east, and wanted to eat the chicken, but it didn't hapen. He gave it to Dέwa Ketoet Kel6nang, and he was the one who actually ate it. I Neka did not get to eat the chicken, so he took the brazier and ate the fire of the brazier. [MK's description was] I Neka held out his hands to catch (njadangin) the chicken. When it had been given to him, he used it as a plaything. Thus spoke Neka to Renis, "How now, brother, do you want (it), how now, sister?" As he held the chicken Neka licked the fire of the brazier. After a moment he

M A R S A

( N A N G

Marsa was a tall, spare man of between forty and fifty years of age, with an elongated, ascetic type of face. He was of low caste, but, because

District gave it to Dewa Ketoet Kel6nang. D£wa Ketoet Kel£nang closed his mouth on the head of the chicken. After he gave the chicken, Neka again took the fire of the brazier and licked it, and said, "Am 1 not to be given a chicken?" Having given one up, now he wants another. [Neka is once more voicing a grievance, in the role of the abused, cantankerous I Batoe.—JB] In her summing up MM refers to the "gloating, pouncing quality of the chicken-eating," which particularly impressed her. She says of Neka, "He has the kind of poised, assured manner which one associates with the confidently evil, a delicate sneering laugh, a kind of cadike ready-to-crouch, ready-to-pounce manner. This was especially accentuated in the handling of the chicken and in the position of the hands, cupped to catch the wings, some of the most significant of which were anticipatory." I think it has been made clear from the combined evidence that he was a figure who struck all the witnesses, not so much by the brutality of his behavior towards Rawa, as in the case of Anak Agoeng Njoman, but by the singlemindedness of his evil role. And the congruence of his behavior at Tegaltamoe, among relative strangers, with that in his own temple, showed how faithfully he performed the part which he had made for himself in trance, that of the demon I Batoe. It is in accordance with this role that Neka behaved with comparative docility on the occasion of Marsa's trance, December 21, when the god came down. The demon is violent, he is cantankerous, he is greedy, he has an appetite for blood and fire, but he knows his place. When the god comes down, the demon must subordinate himself, for he is only a follower, and the god is supreme.

T O E R O E N )

of his function as the representative and only spokesman of the god, he was held in respect by his fellow-villagers. Although, from his appear-

Village Strife Played Out in ance, he resembled the sensitive, self-possessed, and delicately coordinated type to which belonged many of the finest actors and dancers (as Mario, the renowned Kebiar dancer, or Goesti Ngoerah of Tegaltamoe), he did not take any part in the Pagoetan dramatic performances. It was affirmed that he had never gone in trance at an ordered performance. His trances took place only at temple festivals or at accompanying rituals concerning the gods or the demons. They were said to be very rare and were therefore acclaimed as events of importance. It was a piece of very good luck, and good management, that we were able to witness a trance of his. One of the younger informants from Pagoetan told us when we asked if any gods came down in Pagoetan: "Ratoe Anom [the god of the Barong] enters I Marsa. He is called -petapakan. At ordered performances (\metjoba-tjoba) he has never gone in trance. If the favor is not strongly beseeched (brat noenas itja), Marsa is not entered. If he does go in trance, it is Ratoe Anom who enters him." Speaking of the functions of the various priests in the temple, the same informant said, "At the time of a temple festival, if I Marsa goes in trance, it is he who gives orders. Anything at all he may ask for, in the way of offerings." The older men remember that Marsa was one of those to go in trance at the first trial (ngerihang) of the famous Rangda almost thirty years ago. If this is true, he must have been a youngster at the time and was at the time of our observations a trancer of extremely long standing. On the occasion at which we saw him in trance, a festival at the Poera Babian, his behavior was intense, significant in a variety of ways, and full of surprises. From the moment that he fell down in trance upon the path—from all the evidence, a quite unanticipated happening—until the moment, one hour and thirtyfive minutes later, when he opened his eyes, his conduct was, like that of a very great actor, completely absorbing to his audience. It was an arresting and meaningful performance, free from anything which smacked of histrionics, because of the very earnestness of the protagonist. My

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secretary was profoundly impressed by the actuality of the god's presence in this particular trancer—although he had a tendency to doubt any of those whom he suspected of faking. I also perceived in Marsa's trance a quality of genuineness hard to define but none the less convincing to behold. I should like to stress the unexpectedness of Marsa's trance. When we were invited to the festival, we were told that no trance was anticipated. The ritual had already begun when we arrived: people were in the temple making the reverence and offering their gifts to the Barong and the god of the main shrine. Anak Agoeng Njoman, Rawa, and Neka were present, all officiating in the dedication of the offerings. Then the procession formed for escorting the Barong and the Rangdas, as representatives of the gods, to the bath. At this time Neka, wearing the front of the Barong, went into trance. The procession wound down the lane to the ravine, a ten minutes' walk, to a place where a bridge crosses the stream at a height of perhaps forty feet above its narrow bed. The sides of the ravine at this point are precipitous. On the eastern bank waterspouts project from the rock wall, and enclosures have been built as bathing places for the men and women. At the top of the steep wall is a tiny temple, the bedji shrine, standing in a level space which has been cut away from the side of the rock. Immediately outside the entrance to this little temple court passes the trail leading down to the bathing places and the river's edge. The trail itself inclines at an angle almost unscalable for Westerners and is at all times slippery and treacherous in this moist, dank spot. The ritual in the little temple had been going on for seven minutes, when without warning Marsa, passing by on the trail outside, fell down in trance. He was returning from his bath. We had asked and been told that he was not present at the preceding rituals. (At that time we did not know him by sight.) When he fell, a loud response burst from the crowd swarming in the ravine at this hour of the evening, the people passing on the trail, the men and women dawdling about the bathing

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places, the children paddling in the stream. Women and children shrieked, men called out to each other, there was a scuffle, and immediately Marsa was lifted up and brought into the little temple. There could be no doubt but that the happening took them all by surprise. I believe that the setting, dangerous for a fall, was chiefly responsible for this extreme reaction to a single individual's going into trance, for as a rule the audience looked on with the greatest unconcern when trance broke out.1T But I imagine that the fact of its being Marsa who fell added to the excitement. All those who had been seated in the temple leaped to their feet at the disturbance, even Neka, in the midst of his trance. People around us immediately informed G M and me that this was Marsa, as if it were a fact of great importance. As evidence that Marsa himself did not expect to go into trance, at any rate not at this moment, we have only one clue: he was wearing in his belt the flat basket which serves as purse and betel and tobacco pouch. This detail is significant because the Balinese as a rule are careful of their belongings and would not deliberately take a chance on losing them. They often attach bells to their knives, keys, and betel accessories, as we might to a kitten, to keep a check on their whereabouts. The trancers know very well that once in trance they will be heedless of their possessions. The men often remove their headcloths and other light articles of apparel before the time for going into trance arrives. T h e fact of Marsa's wearing his betel basket, therefore, points to an unawareness that a trance seizure was coming upon him. As soon as it was remarked, the onlookers called to his small son to remove it from his belt for safekeeping. Marsa's facial expression during the trance was, whenever we could observe him, tense and strained, as if he were under some very exhausting nervous pressure. His eyes were closed throughout; he wore a steady 'frown, and his " V i c l r i B a u m has well observed and described their equanimity in her chapter on the kris dance in Tale of Bali ( N e w York, 1 9 3 7 ) , p p . 2 7 1 - 7 2 .

District mouth was set, or pouting, or working in response to some internal stimulus whose nature we could not guess. His breathing was labored; when he spoke, the words burst from him in short breathless sentences, the voice tense, but extraordinarily clear, the diction clipped, decisive. At one time when he got in the Barong, one could hear him panting from within. When, after a struggle, he was removed from it, he was bathed in sweat. Several times during his trance, after darkness had come, I flashed my searchlight full in his face, without eliciting any response. G M and I, whom he did not know, were at his side, often within three or four feet of him, throughout the hour and a half of his trance. When he opened his eyes as he came out, he saw us at once and looked with curiosity upon us busily writing in our notebooks. From his evident surprise, it was quite clear that he had not known of our presence up to that moment. Of this order are the clues upholding the validity of his trance. It is true that he might have been quite conscious and yet, keeping his eyes closed, have failed to remark the presence of strangers. But everyone knows how easy it is to cheat with closed eyes, to peep under lowered lids, and, as Marsa frequendy threw his head back, I do not believe that he could have resisted a good look at us during that hour and a half had he been at all conscious. And that he had not seen us I am reasonably sure from his behavior when he came out of trance. Other items in his behavior point definitely to a "guiding consciousness" at another level. G M was particularly impressed by his manner of reordering the offerings, redistributing the coins in different allotments, correcting the procedure used by Anak Agoeng Njoman. For instance, when the priest would lift a cup of arak, dedicating it without passing it in the smoke of the brazier, Marsa would, with eyes closed, take up the brazier and hold it for a moment under the cup. G M thought this evidence of remarkable clairvoyance, that Marsa could know what Anak Agoeng Njoman was doing even though his eyes were shut. H e had a characteristic gesture, extending his hand to arm's length and groping

Village Strife

Played Out in

blindly over the offerings. He would swing his outstretched arm over the surface of the offerings, pointing, taking up something, throwing it down again impatiently, fumbling again, until someone took up what he wanted or he himself got hold of it. As I saw him only once in trance, I cannot be positive, but his performance with the offerings struck me as quite stylized, as if this sort of play were characteristic of Marsa in trance and as if these were tricks which he had often repeated. We know from the evidence of other informants that he had the power to dictate in regard to offerings "when the god is in him," and I took his behavior as an example of his exercising that power. To this extent, he seemed to me to be "conscious" of what he was doing, directing his actions in accordance with his role. With all the elements of the situation which were familiar to him—the offerings, the Barong, the conduct of the priests and of the other trancer—he was able to deal in his trance role. An unfamiliar element, the presence of GM and myself, apparendy did not pass the barrier of the state of consciousness in which he found himself. It is an interesting point on the threshold of consciousness in trance. The gist of his talk in trance, when finally he came to it, was distincdy to the point. Although he phrased it in trance language, he made quite clear his denunciation of Rawa. He addressed Anak Agoeng Njoman as permas (priest), and Rawa as djoeroe sapoeh (sweeper). Marsa: Sweeper, you act stupidly; don't go on like that. Now I am going to speak to you, Sweeper. If I should tell you all your faults, they would be many. Now will the Priest speak to the Sweeper? Or shall I tell you? Don't go on being bad (momo [as a spoiled child]). If you continue to be bad, don't let me come here. You have many badnesses, and you have not yet been purified (jmerasjita). Rawa: I beg pardon, I beg for mercy from the Lord God. Marsa: If the Sweeper begs pardon, what does

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he beg pardon for? What is his wrong (peiih)? Go on, say it! Marsa (later, bearing down on Rawa): The Sweeper has many faults. Let him know his faults. Speak up now, if you know what your fault is. Rawa: The badness (jnomoan) is . . . taking a wife. Marsa then ordered him to have the purification ceremony (perastjita) three times in the temple, Anak Agoeng Njoman to officiate, in order to get rid of his uncleanness (leteh), which Marsa said was great. Marsa, in the disassociated state of trance, could put into words the prevalent antagonistic feeling towards Rawa. Was the level of consciousness from which he spoke not so deep as to render ineffective the preoccupation which he doubdess shared with others of the group? Theoretically, had Marsa spoken from the most profound depths of the unconscious, I should not have expected him to concern himself with correcting the misbehavior of a man who had not personally offended him in any way. But, as spokesman of the god, he was in some part responsible for the welfare of the community: it was up to him to make pronouncements of the god's will in order to restore peace and equilibrium in compensation for wrong. If it be accepted that Marsa was in a disassociated state, either he felt the responsibility so strongly that he himself, in his deeper self, was involved in any problem affecting the group; or, by another hypothesis, in the disassociated state he was highly suggestible, and the preoccupations of one or a number of the group might be communicated to him, causing him to speak as the medium of their will, not of his own. In support of the first of these hypotheses, we can adduce the following facts: Marsa showed in the whole course of his trance behavior an absorbing identification with the Barong. It will be remembered that he is in trance supposed to be possessed by Ratoe Anom, the Virgin Prince, god of the Barong and child of the chief god of the temple. Somewhere in his trance talk he

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stated that his father is already old and therefore sends him, the son, to speak in his place. When Marsa entered the big temple, he dashed up the steps of the Chief Shrine, calling out that he was looking for his father and mother (the chief god and his wife). At the very beginning of his trance, as soon as he had been brought into the little temple, he manifested by a violent paroxysm his desire to enter the Barong, and it was with great difficulty that he was persuaded, twenty-nine minutes later, to come out from under it. Thereafter he continued, by a series of gestures and remarkably clever pantomime, to play the part of the Barong personified. There could be no question but that, consciously or unconsciously, he, Marsa, was being the Barong, with a fervor and intensity only possible under the sway of a powerful affective identification. In my comment written at the time I find: "He behaved as much like a Barong, when he was not in it, as it would be possible for a man to behave. He tossed his head and turned it from side to side, with short jerky twists exacdy as a Barong, even in time to the music. He would throw his head all the way back on his neck, bringing his face flat to the sky, just as Neka often does with the Barong mask. He butted with his head, like a Barong running at things and people. He used his leg to knock away Neka's arm when he did not want Neka to eat the chicken. He swayed his weight from side to side as he turned his head, like a Barong when it is forced to stand still. He did not bare his teeth and snap them, but once I saw a slight motion of his closed lips which I could not make out. It did not look as though he were talking under his breath; could he have been snapping his teeth behind closed lips?" In his trance utterances, he made a point of directing that the Barong should be present when the special offering to the demons (t;«roe) was given. Speaking as the god, he said: "I already have a Form (jpesiloeman [the shape of one transformed—refers to the Barong]). Let me [in that form] witness my own offerings." It should be noted that it is not unusual for Barongs to stand by when tjaroe offerings are spread on the

District ground and, in the course of the ritual, to circumambulate them, treading upon them as a sign of their animal nature and of their right to do with the offerings as they like. So far as I know, only Barongs and Rangdas ever tread upon offerings of any sort. Therefore, it is significant that Marsa, in trance, but not in the Barong, trod upon the segeh agoeng offerings. I should like to bring out here the meaningfulness of the whole trend of his behavior, the strong hold upon him of his conception of himself as Barong, the way in which that conception was apparent throughout in his gestures and his words. The excitement evidenced in his strained expression, his breathless speech, his persistent labored breathing, and his restless and erratic movements showed an undeniable affective tone pervading him at the time of the impersonation. This, perhaps, was "religious emotion" in the Balinese manner. We have seen from Anak Agoeng Νjoman's comment and from the villagers' behavior with how much feeling the Pagoetan gods were treated, how the relationship of the father god to his son, who was the Barong, was dwelt upon. Whereas in other villages the figures of the gods were carried in procession to the bath, from this temple only the Barong and the Rangdas went, as representatives of the father god. I believe that Marsa was one of those who had been most forcibly impressed by the intimate aspect of this relationship and that he felt very close to the awesome god on account of his identification with the son, who spoke through him. Here we must point out a very curious quirk in Balinese thought, illogical, as it seems to us, but none the less acceptable to them for all that. There was in their conception of the gods' making themselves manifest an odd dislocation of the elements. Let us take the three factors of the Barong god's identity—the invisible god, the visible mask, the man. Ratoe Anom is the god himself, the son of Ratoe Ged£ Poeseh Babian. He is also the god of the Barong. The Barong, as a masked figure, is imbued with the spirit of the god and is therefore Ratoe Anom transformed and made visible. Thus Ratoe Anom the

Village Strife Played Out in Barong can receive offerings in the name of Ratoe Anom the god, and represent him in the ritual. But he again must be animated by a man, and the man himself may be "entered," imbued by a spirit. The spirit in the mask is not necessarily the same as the spirit in the man in the mask. A man may go in trance while he is dancing in the Barong, but there may be no connection between the spirit which takes possession of his body and that in the Barong; whereas the spirit in the Barong may at the same time be in possession of someone on the outside. Of the three elements, God, Mask, Man, we get this combination: COD

on

DEMON

Ratoe Anom

I Batoe

The diagram represents the moment when Ratoe Anom is simultaneously in the Barong and in Marsa; and at the same time Neka is wearing the Barong, while it is I Batoe who is in him. This disassociation of the three elements was affirmed by our informants, and they did not remark that there was anything queer about it. However, the confusion was dissolved in the minds of the people because they thought of Ratoe Anom as the Barong, not as a spirit imbuing his form. When they spoke of the Barong in other contexts, they always called him Ratoe Anom. When they said: "It is Ratoe Anom who is in Marsa," they were calling the Barong by his name; they were really saying, 'It is the Barong who is in Marsa." If, as I believe, Marsa himself shared this view, it would explain his pantomime of Barong behavior when he was in trance, and his complete personification of the Barong when he represented the god. The Barong as a personality was at once awesome and lovable. He had the attraction of a pet animal, with endearing, capricious ways and a charm all his own. One could not help being fond of him when he would run about, toss his head, wriggle his behind, and jingle the little

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bell on his tail. He was as gaily decorated as a toy, his fluffy coat invited an affectionate pat. He would wear flowers in his silken beard. Even though his great eyes bulged and his teeth snapped fearsomely, he was a lovely being. When Marsa was in trance, Anak Agoeng Njoman treated him with an affectionate devotion which would have been appropriate for a beloved Barong. He was gende, benevolent, at times even amused. He responded to him in the trance talk very politely, using the proper language for trance interrogation and saying yes, but often smiling a litde or laughing to himself, as if he were addressing an unruly, imperious, but withal delightful creature. Anak Agoeng Njoman was so evidently pleased with Marsa's trance that for a moment I began to wonder if by any chance Marsa could have been in league with him, if together they could have planned the scene for Rawa's discomfiture. Anak Agoeng Njoman made certain remarks which might be interpreted as cues to Marsa to bring him to the denunciation of Rawa. But after careful consideration of the evidence, I have come to the conclusion that the possibility of a conscious plot is debarred. Marsa dragged the talk on and on, as if he himself had difficulty in bringing out the point he wished to make. Several times he seemed to be about to put an end to the trance, and Anak Agoeng Njoman did nothing to detain him. But most important of all was Anak Agoeng Njoman's evident surprise at the denouement, the way his expression changed as he dropped the mask of pleased acquiescence and turned to the man beside him with a significant look as comment on the unexpected twist to the conversation. The outcome of the talk cannot have been distasteful to him, granted his antagonism to Rawa, but I am reasonably certain that he had not anticipated it. When I spoke to him immediately after the event, he beamed upon me, and said, "That was Ratoe Anom, who very very seldom comes down." Much as we might say, turning away from a telephone, "That was So-and-So, ringing up from London." He gave the impression that the god's descent was a matter for rejoicing, and that anything he might

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District as a whole and of the temple's chief priest in particular, not by conscious design but as a result of the working of his strange identification.

have said was of secondary importance. In my opinion, any collaboration of Marsa with Anak Agoeng Njoman took place on an unconscious level, and Marsa spoke the will of the village

THE

MALE

KRIS

The line of kris dancers at Pagoetan generally consisted of ten young men. It was not customary for the older men, even though they were good dancers and facile trancers, to take part. (Perhaps it had been suggested to the group by their white patrons that the younger men were more comely in the role, where their bodies dressed only in a strip of a loincloth showed up to good advantage.) In a check of their identities at three different performances, we found that fifteen individuals did the kris dance, of whom four were in all three performances, five in two performances, and six in one performance. Of the four who took part in all three performances, all might play one or more other roles, in one of the Rangdas, in the Barong, or as comic characters in the play. Two of the five in the second group also had doubled roles, and two in the last group. This check gives an indication that the line of kris dancers was not by any means constant but was apt to be filled in as occasion demanded; and that the young men of dramatic ability were the most likely to be called upon to make up the desired number. On December 16 three of the men who played the minor Rangdas, Roegroeg, Djodog, and Gog, made a quick change when they left the "stage" to reappear as kris dancers. In all the performances we witnessed, there was never a failure of any individual in the kris dance subsequently to go in trance, or to simulate trance, and to ngoerek. In every case, bystanders who had not appeared in the line-up of kris dancers also went in trance and did ngoerek. W e recorded several times the presence of a few individuals whom we had seen go in trance on other occasions and who therefore might have been expected to go in trance but did not (Olas, Tabih, Renteng, and others).

DANCERS

Rawa was the most striking example of a person with this ability to refrain from going into trance. Every time a person classified as a trancer demonstrated his ability to stay out of trance at will in the presence of all the stimuli which customarily call forth trance, it furnished us with further evidence that trance is something to which the subject must give himself up and that what we call the stimuli to bring about trance are not so much actual stimuli to be followed by a mechanical response as merely factors in a setting favorable to trance. And they are dispensable factors, for the subject may go in trance without their presence or stay out of trance in their presence. T h e cases of the men who were potential kris dancers but who, because on a particular day they were not called out in the line-up, stood by as assistants, seized the krisses of those who ngoerek, held them when they struggled, or carried them off when they fell unconscious, without themselves letting go, make some of the more amazing corollaries to the trance activities of this extraordinary group. Of the men who did the kris dance, Roegroeg singled himself out as especially violent. At every performance of which we have a record, he was the leader of one of the two lines in the fixed formation for the dance. He also played one of the minor Rangdas in the performance. MM's description of him is: "Heavy, coarse-featured, stocky boy, with broad shoulders." Of his behavior on December 16 she says: "He was about four times as violent and conspicuous as anyone except Rawa, who was more violent. He gave the appearance of a series of seizures which were precipitated by any attempt to do anything new to him—take his kris, take him into the temple, move him to a new place, and so forth.

Village

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Played

Type of rage could probably be correlated with a mild epileptic type, but no special symptoms." M K described him: "Tall, fat, with a big mouth, his appearance like that of a crazy person; black skin." He had unusually heavy, pendulous hps, which he protruded like a funnel when he hurled himself upon Rawa to suck the blood from his wound. I have a mental picture of him projecting himself across the intervening space with lips extended as if the thirsting mouth led the whole man. His response to Rawa's self-inflicted wound was instantaneous, as it is recorded on the film. M M noted, as he was pulled away and Rawa carried off into the temple ( 1 1 : 3 3 ) : "Roegroeg is in a furious fighting state, large group to hold him." Again: "Roegroeg is still very violent, taking five to hold him." Later ( 1 1 : 4 5 ) : "Roegroeg goes fighting mad again." M K recorded at this time (which was when Anak Agoeng Njoman was lifting Rawa by the hair): "Roegroeg came from behind the shrine and threw his arms around Rawa. Anak Agoeng Njoman took hold of Roegroeg's hair, and Roegroeg fell down. Anak Agoeng Njoman put his foot on his neck. . . . Roegroeg was rolling on the ground, holy water was poured on his lips. He called out 'Adoh adoh' (pain-word) . . . Roegroeg took hold of the leg of Anak Agoeng Njoman." This was where MM had noted: 'Ί suggest that they drag Roegroeg off, as Rawa cannot stand another attack. ( 1 1 : 4 6 ) Roegroeg, fighting, dragged off, given water and arak, stands up, reels off to the west of building." At this point he, and all the other male members of the kris-dancing line, were supposed to be out of trance, although many of the women were still unconscious. But three quarters of an hour later, he was again remarked at the chicken-eating scene, still in trance, seated on a mat with Neka, D6wa Ketoet, and others. As Dewa Ketoet "ate" the chicken, Roegroeg seemed to be overcome with (sympathetic?) nausea, he drooled at the mouth and rolled his head about He was again given a drink of arak and the usual routine passes for bringing him out. He was, this time, one of the last five in trance. On another occasion, we re-

Out

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corded that he was the last to give up his kris and was still struggling when the other trancers had been taken into the temple. And on still another day, the Plessens18 shot good close-ups of him during the ngoerek activity, blowing out his mouth, protruding the lips in circular shape, the so-called "boedjoeh" expression such as we have described for Rata of Dendjalan. This extension of the lips is apparendy a typical automatism with him, and the fact of its being set off at the sight of the blood gushing from Rawa's wound is of particular interest. Curious anticipatory reactions were also recorded as he half-knelt, half-squatted, in position ready for the beginning of the kris dance on December 16—he was breathing hard, and a muscle on the inner side of his raised thigh was agitated in a rapid convulsive flexing. Because of the violence and recalcitrance of his behavior in trance, we inquired if he were subject to fits of temper in ordinary life. Our informant answered: "Roegroeg is never angry. He is always polite (anak aloes dogen). If he's not in trance, he's never angry. He doesn't remember his body [he is unconscious, in trance]. I have myself asked him; [he says] it is only dark, only a dark anger. He is a poor man (anak latjoer)." The informant seemed here to be defending Roegroeg against the derogatory implication of our question. Anger is associated with pride and power; Roegroeg is a poor man, a man who puts on no airs, who excites compassion rather. We were also told that he has been married twice, that one of his wives died. His unattractive appearance has not debarred him from having success with women. The evidence here is skimpy, but it does not point to any special abnormality in Roegroeg's everyday personality. One wonders if in such a case mild epileptic tendencies might have been present but, through the practice of trance, were released, and sufficiendy resolved in the culturally accepted situation to leave the man free 18 Through the courtesy of Baron and Baroness von Plessen we were able to study and analyze their films of Pagoetan taken on another occasion, and to compare the results of their film records with our own.

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from any symptoms in the normal state. Roegroeg would bear examination by an expert, who would be able to determine to what extent he is an abnormal subject. Another trancer of Pagoetan singled out by his behavior on December 16 was I Ompog. He was about forty, with a big head, a heavy flat face, forceful and ugly. He was the informant who burst out with the belitding comment on Rawa the day of our discussion of the temple organization. He impressed us at the time as a man sure of himself, unusually articulate, with opinions of his own. I noted: "Ompog makes the most sense." His role in the performance was to play one of the subsidiary Rangdas, the so-called Ratoe Babian who has a nose like a snout As a rule he did not go in trance in this part, and on December 16 he did not. He also doubled in the burlesque role of the trance Balian. But after the performance, when the entranced had been brought into the temple court, Ompog discovered his wife in a violent trance. She had a sudden seizure; he also fell down and "buried his head in the group who were holding his wife's head" ( M M ) . According to MK, he cried. A few minutes later, I noted that he was sitting cross-legged near his wife, leaning his forearms upon his knees, his hands rigid in set positions. There was a tremor in his hands, and he was making explosive sounds through his teeth, "pff!" Ompog was one of two husbands to be sent off in trance at sight of their wives. As the trance of the women was an unprecedented addition to the regular performance, and, as the women took it very hard and many of them were extremely difficult to calm, it is not surprising that their husbands should have been much affected. W e note it here as still one more stimulus which may bring about trance. W e are again indebted to the Plessen films for intimate recordings of some of the other trancers while doing ngoerek. I Geledet, for instance, is shown on the ground with his kris, rolling on his back, then spinning about, making a half-circle, using his back as a pivot. Later (on the same reel) he is on his feet; he and another

District trancer, I Gog, approach each other, challenging, one rises to stand over the other as he crouches, then they reverse the positions—a very pretty imitation of the formal paired contest figure in the earlier kris dance, here repeated in the most violent state of trance. (It should be noted that although we have no record of the line-up on this occasion, twice before we had seen Geledet and Gog as partners in the kris dance.) In a moment, Geledet is seen stabbing himself again; then he is retiring; he goes on dancing round with kris extended in the air, as Rawa comes into the picture with a brazier. Rawa begins to dance with exaggerated dramatic motions, and the two circle, facing each other, like fighting cocks. Later, when they had been brought into the temple, Geledet is shown once more on his back. The Barong approaches; both Geledet's legs go up, and he kicks in the air. Still later, on another reel, Geledet is on his back, beating his chest with both hands and writhing. Somehow or other he has again found his partner Gog, and they are again "getting tangled." In the last shot of him, he is seated quietly, coming out. There was considerable variation in the performance filmed by the Plessens and the one we filmed, although they took place in the same month. In their performance the Tjalonarang play was omitted. The Barong played first alone, then with the Jaks (masked players). The Chief Rangda was carried in on a dais, borne by eight men. She called the lejaks or minor Rangdas, and, when they gathered round, she was set down, and the scene was continued much as it was in the performance of December 16, Ompog as one of the minor Rangdas also grasping the Chief Rangda round the knees as a sign of devotion. When the kris dancers came on, they made the dash in formation toward the Rangda and knelt before her; then rose, turned away from her, and toward her and away again, as she waved her magic cloth at them. This part of the performance was the same, also their retreat before the advancing Rangda, executing formal steps in unison, and the attack upon her in pairs, each man, having attempted to stab her, falling

Village

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Played

prone on the ground. But when the Rangda had been carried off, and the men, laid out in two lines, leaped up once more to follow the Barong down the space, they proceeded with the stylized mock battle in pairs, directing their krisses at each other, one rising to stand threatening over the other, then reversing the position. This was the figure which had been typical of the Dendjalan show since 1931, according to our records. It was, however, omitted at Pagoetan on December 16, perhaps because of the introduction at our request of the women kris dancers. In the Plessens' performance, the mock battle led immediately into the ngoerek activity. In our performance the appearance of the women and the double lines of men and women dancers passing each other was substituted, this figure instead leading directly to the ngoerek activity. I mention these differences because there is some question as to the point at which the performers may be said to go in trance. Let us call that part of the activity from the initial appearance of the ( m a l e ) kris dancers up through their individual attacks upon the Rangda, when each in turn tries to stab her and falls down upon the ground, the "preliminary kris dance"; and let us call that part beginning at the point when, having been laid out in two lines, they rise again and proceed in formation to execute stylized figures, up until the time when the formation breaks and they begin to stab themselves, the "secondary kris dance"; the question is: May the preliminary kris dance be said to culminate in a first genuine state of trance when the men fall unconscious, afterward to be roused to a state of sufficient control to enable them to execute the stylized figures of the secondary kris dance? or, if the preliminary and the secondary kris dances together must be taken as a sequence leading up to the wild outbreak in self-stabbing, then is the point where the men fall on the ground apparendy unconscious but one more stylized figure of the dance, and, in its way, a group fake, a simulation of trance in which the entire number takes part? The Balinese themselves, when questioned on such a point, sav they are in and out during the

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dance, they "remember and forget." We have good evidence that some, at least, of the performers are not unconscious when they are laid out on the ground, for example, when, in the Plessen film, the boy Regeg is clearly shown lying with his arm over his face, his arm slips off, and for a moment he opens his eyes and looks up into the camera. But once more, this early simulation does not mean that the subject will not ultimately go in trance, as Regeg is seen to be later on in the film, when he is stabbing himself and is one of the last to come out. Though we admit that some are faking when they appear to fall unconscious we would like to know if any are genuinely entranced, for if that is the case, how can they rise in unison and proceed with the dance? According to our records, four of the ten men showed some violent muscular agitation at this time: a convulsive flexing of an isolated leg muscle (Intoegan), a violent trembling spasm, a twitching of the feet (Tjedoegan or Sadra), a tremor and convulsive opening and shutting of the legs (Samba); and a fifth fell flat on his face. It is true that the film also recorded a flexing of a muscle of Roegroeg's thigh, similar to that of Intoegan's, when Roegroeg was kneeling before the beginning of the preliminary kris dance. These reactions must be considered, I think, as involuntary nervous responses to the trance situation, not necessarily correlated with a disassociated state of consciousness but often marking the prelude to the change. It should be noted that on both the Plessens' film and on ours it is recorded that the Barong is brought over to the lines of recumbent men, and the priest comes to sprinkle them with holy water—two measures which may be used to bring the entranced to themselves—before they again rise to dance. Possibly these measures are intended sufficiently to revive the men from the spell which their tussle with the Rangda has cast on them, so that they can again rise to attack —the attack which may take the form of a stylized battle with their partners and will culminate in the release of their "anger" upon themselves, when they do ngoerek. It is interesting to compare this phase of the

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performance of Pagoetan with that of Taman, Intaran. At Taman the men rush upon the Rangda and, failing to stab her, immediately tum their krisses upon themselves. In Pagoetan, a split is made after the attack upon the enemy Rangda, and, beginning all over again, the anticipatory warlike motions of the kris dance are repeated, leading up to the attack upon members of their own side, and themselves. It is a characteristically Balinese device to have evolved a schism in the very plot of a trance performance, so that the trance itself is disassociated in its various parts. On the other hand, if we assume that the intended pattern of the Pagoetan trance performance, on which the players model their behavior, includes an initial falling into trance, a final outbreak of frenzied self-stabbing, with a period of less complete disassociation, as it were strung between the two poles, we could draw a parallel between this and the performances of the child sanghyangs (see Chapter III). T h e entranced children also pass through a more violent stage at the beginning and at the end of their trance role, swaying and hurling their bodies from side to side as they lean over the incense brazier; and between these two poles comes a period in which they are able to coordinate, to dance more or less in unison, to respond to the musical cues, and to preserve their balance in precarious positions. As we shall see, their behavior in the middle period is at times so well controlled that it is doubtful if they are in any abnormal state at all. Therefore the comparison with the Pagoetan kris dancers becomes the more pertinent, for their behavior between the two decisive outbreaks of trance seizures is no more and no less stylized than that of the sanghyangs. We may call the state whatever we like —pre-trance, semi-trance, or pseudo-trance; but we must recognize that it is one which communicates with the state of deep trance and that the passage of the subject from the one to the other is often indiscernible. As a footnote to the variation of the Plessens' Pagoetan performance and the one which we filmed, it is interesting that, although the mock battle between the partners in the kris dance

District was omitted on December 16, our film records an enactment of a paired combat in the state of violent trance, similar to that between Geledet and Gog. This occurred inside the temple, when the men had been laid out against the wall to be brought out of trance, when it was supposed to be all over, but on account of the unusual pitch of excitement, they kept bursting forth again into violence. Here Sadra and Tjedoegan (who were partners, that is, who had danced opposite each other in the two lines of kris dancers and together made the dash to attack the Rangda) are seen struggling, pulling each other about, and knocking their heads together. Sadra falls to the ground, Tjedoegan has hold of him by the hair. Then Tjedoegan also falls down on top of him. The idea of the paired combat was carried over into the post-ngoerek stage of trance, although on this occasion it had not been enacted in the pre-ngoerefe stage. It was because of the highly organized and stylized presentation of the Barong, Rangda, and kris dance performance in Pagoetan that the group achieved such success with foreign spectators. The players were well trained and experienced: they gave a splendid show. They danced well, and they executed the gestures of trance with gusto and enthusiasm, in good order and without fail, whether the individual members were genuinely in trance or only going through the motions. At different times, I was present when at least twenty different foreign guests attended the performance for the first time. In the great majority of cases, these fresh observers had the impression during the preliminary stages of the kris dance that the whole thing was a big hoax, that the men were not in trance at all, but putting on a simulacrum of trance in a singularly dramatic and effective manner. But when these same observers had witnessed the end of the performance, the ngoerek activity and the efforts to bring to themselves inside the temple the more deeply entranced subjects, they came away breathless and startled, convinced that something extraordinary and unexplainable had taken place before their eyes. In not a few cases, the observers remarked the

Village Strife Played Out in Trance peculiar sexual undertone of the trance behavior, to them suggestive of sexual activity without

THE

FEMALE

The women who participated in the performance on December 16 were, as we have noted, especially summoned for the occasion. The last in the double lines of the dance were two of the four little girls who in the play danced the formalized part of the Witch's pupils (Soekoen, Moenet). Two of the older women were presented as experienced trancers, and one of these, in fact, we had seen go in trance at a festival at Dendjalan. She was Ni Botor, known as Mangkoe Tegeh (Figs. 72 and 73), herself the priestess of the Tegeh temple. The other was Ni Djantoek, who, it was said, often went in trance in her own village but, according to her own statement, did not visit the temples of neighboring districts to take part in the trance ritual. We collected observations of these two and of Ni Ngales and Ni Gaberoeg (wife of Ompog) in particular, as they were the ones who showed the most marked disassociatdon and violence in trance behavior. Also Ni Latri made herself conspicuous by the strength of her seizures. She, with another woman, Ni Μ add Tjenik, went in trance spontaneously outside the temple (although they had not been included in the dancing group) and joined in the ngoerek activity with the dancers. Mangkoe Tegeh was a short, squat woman past middle age, with a square forehead and a frank, direct look in her eyes. She wore the conservative costume of a woman no longer young, a black skirt. But she affected an unusual style in dressing her hair, which the Balinese witness MK especially remarked. She wore it parted in the middle and drawn into a knot at the back of her neck, as MK noted, 'like that of a Javanese woman." Although she was friendly and quite intelligent, she shared with the majority of Balinese women of low caste the tendency to incurious, unthinking avoidance of intellectual mat-

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being in any obvious or surface way connected with a sexual idea or purpose.

KRIS

DANCERS

ters. Herself a priestess, she professed ignorance of who "enters" her in trance and, when we inquired, her answer was in the tone of voice which might be rendered as, "How should I know? I never thought about it." KM remarked that she seemed the most intent of the whole group during the preliminary dance on December 16. She led one of the two lines, and danced with poise and assurance. When the ngoerek activity broke out, she was among the first to begin a long series of very rapid ngoerek motions. She held the kris against her breast and hurled her body forward and back, completing the motion eleven times in eight seconds before she paused. Her motions are well recorded upon the cine film. As she bends back, she lifts her arms, holding the handle of the kris, but she never raises it to an angle of more than forty degrees above the horizontal. As she goes forward, she lowers her arms. It is at this time that the chief pressure of her body comes upon the kris. The kris is held with the point against the breast, and the strong phase of the motion is the bending forward, while the bending backward is a recovery, in order to be able once more to press forward against the kris. This is in contrast to the typical masculine mode of performing ngoerek, in which the strong phase is the bending backward, at the same time lifting the arms so as to press the kris with more force against the breast, and accompanied by a pelvic thrust upward; when the men lean forward they are recovering for another bend backward and upward thrust. It is significant that the film showing these women doing ngoerek, when run in reverse through the projector, shows the motion more closely resembling the masculine manner than when it is projected in the ordinary way. This is what we should expect from our observations, since the

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women's strong forward bend becomes in reverse a backward bend. The timing is different, (or the men hold for a longer time the position at the top of the upward thrust. In the women's motion, the pelvic thrust is lacking altogether or is rudimentary. Also, when the women discontinued the motion for the "pause," they stop after the last down swing, the men after the last up swing and thrust. It was Gregory Bateson who first noticed and analyzed the difference between the masculine and feminine modes of doing ngoerek. After he had called our attention to it, all those in our group were able to see the difference and agreed with him in his analysis. There was, of course, considerable variation in the individual manner of performing ngoerek; and, when we refer to the "masculine mode," we mean those ways, in more or less exaggerated form, which were typical of the male performers. Occasionally one can remark a female subject doing ngoerek in a way that approximates the "masculine mode" and a male subject doing it in a way which recalls the "feminine mode." But these cases were atypical; and the observation is a comment on the character of the individual concerned and is actually parallel to such a comment as "she sits cross-legged like a man" or "he dances like a woman." On December 16, the entire time from the breaking out of the ngoerek activity till all the trancers had been disarmed and taken into the temple was three minutes. During this time the women, upon whom our attention was centered, did not stab at themselves continuously but interspersed a series of the pumping ngoerek motions with pauses in which they either danced in place, leaping or swaying from side to side, or stood with heads down as if in a daze. Mangkoe Tegeh in her "pauses" danced around among the others in a small circle. Her head was down, and the hair falling over her eyes. She did not look at any of the others, neither did she collide with any of them. Then she would break out again in a series of fast ngoerek motions. W e recorded no particular disturbance created by her when she was disarmed or later during the coming-out period in the temple. She did, how-

District ever, strike one of the Balinese witnesses as the woman most strongly entranced during the ngoerek. She did not definitely come out of trance till twenty minutes later. Then she rose and at once resumed her role of priestess, helping to restore the other trancers by sprinkling them and giving them holy water to drink. T h e woman whose behavior in the postngoerek or coming-out period was most extreme was Ni Ngales (Men Rabeg). She is described by M M as a woman with "a coarse peasant-like face, a Γεΰ:ου55έ nose." Her appearance was not unlike Roegroeg's, especially the big loose mouth, and M M noted that, "Her behavior was analogous to Roegroeg's." When she had been taken into the temple, she was laid upon the ground, her feet stretched out before her, and was s u p ported in a sitting position, her head thrown back upon the shoulder of the man behind her (Fig. 8 7 ) . She cried, tears rolled down her cheeks, and she was taken with a series of violent spasms interspersed with periods of stillness, apparently profoundly unconscious. T h e brutal scene of Neka's and Anak Agoeng Njoman's attack on Rawa took place within six feet of her position and immediately in front of her, but she did not seem to be conscious of it. I also came up to her at this very time and took a close-up of her with a cine camera, at three feet. The film shows the man supporting her turning his head in surprise, his attention attracted by the sound of the camera's mechanism. But on Ni Ngales's face is no sign of response. She remained in trance from the first outbreak, at 11:32 A.M., till 12:08. These are MM's notes of her behavior: 11:32 A.M. 11:45 11:50

Outbreak of trance, beginning to ngoerek. Ngales still lying back against supporter, crying. Ngales appears to come out of trance. Ngales starts struggling again. They (people around her) say, "Wait, wait! Just a moment." Ngales becomes very violent, fights and struggles. Five people hold her,

Village Strife Played Out in Trance

12:00 12:03

12:05 (12:05)

12:07

12:08

one holding her feet tight together. A woman does up her hair. (This is a calming, "get-into-your-right-mind" gesture. Compare the doing up of the hair of a woman in labor.) Ngales given to drink. She starts to cry again. Ngales now having a litde segehan offering placed at her feet Ngales cries on. She begins to sniffle. Then suddenly another violent seizure; struggles, orgasm-not-quitereached expression. Shouts, both hands clenched and held down in front of her. Says "Adoh" (pain-word). The helpers spread her legs. (Call for) fire (the brazier). Priest gives her arak. She jiggles the leaf cup. Fire put down, ashes blow all over the priest's face, and she wildly puts her hands on brazier. All the assistants giggle. Call for water. Ngales starts to cry again. Scatters the (contents of) brazier. Fights at it. They hold the brazier up close to her face. She breathes in the smoke, comes out. She takes water, washes her face and rather guzzles at the water and gurgles as she splashes it over her face. Two people lift her, she stamps one foot hard, then starts off westward, stamping both feet (as if to restore sensation to a foot asleep.)

During her trance, and after photographing her, I noted, "Ngales cries, then is quiet, cries again. At one point she arches her body upward from her sitting position on the ground, on her face an expression of painful ecstasy, very sexual." T h e action of the body also, forming a complete arc, her belly lifted two and a half to three

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feet off the ground, was suggestive of a sexual spasm. Ngales belonged to the type of female trancer which we often saw performing in the temples late at night. Women either no longer young or particularly ugly and lacking in physical charm, not infrequendy dressed in shabby, faded, black skirts, whose whole appearance was in contrast to that of the young belles with flowers in their hair or of the dignified matrons who bound their best gilded sashes round them and swept into the temple with an air of assurance—these aged or unattractive women often went into an abandoned trance, surprising in its violence and in the completeness with which they gave themselves up to i t They were, in all appearance, compensating at this time for some urgent need in which life was cheating them. These humble, mousy women, who did not sparkle as their sisters in youth or in bright raiment, became all at once aflame with desire and gave themselves up in forgetfulness to conduct which was the more exhibitionistic, because they were denied the minor, everyday exhibitionisms which are every woman's need. This at least is the interpretation which I, as a woman, put upon their behavior. It is significant that time after time, at temple festivals, when we had been watching the preliminary ritual for three or four hours, suddenly out of nowhere would appear the mousy women, hurling themselves into the center of things at the very height of the pitch of trance. They were astonishing in the ferocious urgency of their trance behavior. They had, no doubt, been present all during the preliminaries, but they kept out of sight in the background, and no one noticed them, until at last in the trance hurlyburly their moment would come, and they would take it with a vengeance. In connection with this aspect of the women's trance, it is amusing to be able to set down a sample of the conversation of the women and girls as they were preparing for their initial performance in the trance dance on December 16. While the play was going on—it lasted nearly two hours—Rawa came to tell me that the women trancers were arriving and were collecting

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Gianjar

in the temple. I went in to photograph them and found one of the male kris dancers, I Intoegan, busy instructing some of the younger girls in the approved manner of holding a kris. They had, it seems, never wielded one before. Girls of thirteen or fourteen years were crowding around him, laughing gaily, in very good spirits. I photographed the group, but, as it turned out, these particular girls did not take part in the dance afterward. Even the line-up was at this time still undecided, it depended upon who should tum up. I asked Rawa if there were not to be any experienced women trancers. He said there would be two older women who had already done it and that the younger girls would "follow." (From the smooth, polished performance the women actually gave, dancing in line, in perfect unison, and, when the proper time came, all together going "into trance," one would never have known that it had been so casually prepared and quite without previous rehearsal.) Meanwhile Mangkoe Tegeh and Ni Djantoek, the two experienced trancers, arrived and were photographed (see Figs. 72 and 74). W e then sent M K into the temple to record the chatter, as a reflection of the mood before the trance. They were dressing. I have translated what they said, not always literally but in equivalent idioms, to render the flavor of their talk.

Mangkoe Tegeh: That's my flower over there, to the west Desak Ade (a handsome mature girl): I'll just dance out any old way. Mangkoe Tegeh: Powder, too. I'm so black, if I didn't powder, what would I look like? Desak Ad6: Don't take that last hibiscus over there. Mangkoe Tegeh: Let me dance in the middle of the line, what about it? [She does not want to be the leader, she is shy.] Renjah (handsome girl, leader of the dancers in one line): Where'll I get a kris? Mangkoe Tegeh: Oh these flowers, they won't stay in my head anyway, in a minute I won't know east from west!

District Renjah (holding the kris): How do you hold this thing? Moenet (adolescent girl dancer): How do people do that ngoenjing (ngoerek)? Renjah (the handle of whose kris is missing): Where on earth's the tail of this thing? ( N i Moenet is carrying the kris on her arm. Ni Soekoen, the other adolescent dancer, pokes her.) Soekoen: Don't carry it on your arm now. Mangkoe Tegeh (picking up a kris): Whose is this one? I don't know anything about anything, I'm all of a dither. Moenet: Soekoen, where on earth—go over and look for one. Renjah: Can't we bend this one a little straighter? My hair's standing on end (ngeres atittey. Pitja: Come on, let's pray a litde first, sister, let's pray ([bakti) all together. Soekoen: Are you going to ngoenjing, Roebeg? Djantoek (instructing the others): When our partners (the men) go south, we go north. Soekoen (looking at MK's notebook): Are we all to be written down there? Pitja (making her kris to dance): This is the way, Ratoe, look here! Soekoen: It makes my head swim to guzzle arak. [She uses a very vulgar word for to drink.] This 'Sak Ade, she imbibes arak, I delicately partake of it. [A play on words here, she uses first the vulgar word for her drinking, then a polite word for the drinking of Desak Adέ, who is of higher caste, and then, in fun, the word applied for the gods' refreshment, for herself.] Moenet: All our friends will go home. ( T h e audience will leave if the performance is poor.) Soekoen: Lots of people have come to see; they've even brought the babies just born. Moenet: How is it you hold a kris? Intoegan (the boy): Don't forget now, girls, before we kneel down at the east side, don't come out, any of you. This little cross-section of their conversation shows the spirit in which the girls and women

Village

Strife

prepared themselves for the trance dance, as if it were an ordinary dramatic performance, paying attention to their appearance and to the effect it would have upon the audience. Several of them confessed to a feeling of uneasiness, but they were not sufficiently disturbed to be beyond making jokes. N o t e that the one who suggested the praying, which sounded very solemn at the time, two minutes later was playing with her kris, making it dance in the way the Balinese have of turning any inanimate object into a puppet. T h e two young girls, as professional dancers, were concerned over this their first appearance in an unrehearsed part, as to how they should behave, what their gestures should be, not how they should look—for they knew they

ORDERED BARONG,

PERFORMANCE

TJALONARANG

Out in

Played

KRIS

9 : 0 0 A.M. T h e Barong dances alone. T h e front player, I Ddbot, is one of those who afterward take part in the kris dance and go in trance. Both players have made their reverence at the shrine of the god and have received holy water from the priest before entering the Barong. 9:20 T h e Barong is joined by two masked players, in the role of Jak (similar to Djooefe) who put on a comic fight with the Barong. 9:24 E n d of the Barong and Jak play. play. Beginning of the Tjalonarang [ T h e story of the play is as follows: T h e Witch, N i Doekoeh Batoer, tries through her magic power to "burn u p " the country of the King of Kertanegara. S h e is a balian who practices medicine. M a n y people are ill in the kingdom, and it is N i Doekeoh Batoer who is called to attend them. S h e burns u p all those (the evil spirits) who are causing the epidemic. It happens that many peo-

159

were young and lovely. Soekoen, by the way, had the reputation of a "naughty" girl, and in the play often varied the fixed pattern of her dance to approach and dance flirtatiously before the foreign guests—showing unheard of independence in a child dancer. It is interesting to note the relative boldness of her remarks. A n d M a n g k o e T e g e h , the eldest of the line-up, was the one who spoke with most concern, in this litde sample, of her appearance. O n the whole, it is clear that both the older women and the girls anticipated no very personal emotion to accompany their trance act; that whatever nervousness they felt was akin to stage fright and not the result of being keyed u p to an intense emotional experience.

AT PAGOETAN,

PLAY,

Trance

DANCE

9:24

9:37

DECEMBER OF

MEN

16, AND

1937 WOMEN

ple die. T h e King orders a trance practitioner to be consulted. Through the trance it appears that N i Doekoeh Batoer is "making the pestilence." T h e King is angry and sends his Minister to kill the Witch. S h e transforms herself into Rangda; he transforms himself and becomes the Barong. T h e y fight. T h e story does not tell who wins. Proper names given are: T h e W i t c h — N i Doekoeh Batoer of Wedaserengga. Her p u p i l s — N i Waksisia, N i Mdsawadana (or Misawedana), N i Raroeng (or Laroeng), N i Lenda, N i Lendi, N i Wakkilia (or Waksindia) T h e King—Praboe Siwasipoema of Kertanegara H i s Minister—I Soerawidjaja] T w o pupils ( s i s i a ) of the Witch appear. T h e y are girls, aged about ten. T h e y execute the formal sisia dance. T w o more pupils appear and dance. T h e s e two are the adolescent girls N i

160

9:42

9:50

10:03

10:05

10:15

Gianjar Soekoen and Ni Moenter who afterwards take part in the kris dance and go in trance. Enter Raroeng, the Witch's chief pupil. Played by a man, I Doerja, the story expert of the village. The interpretation is cast in the form of the Tjondong part, a stylized representation, in dance and gesture, of the maidservant to a chief female character. Enter the Witch, in her normal shape, a bent old woman leaning upon a stick. (As a rule, she is at this time dressed in ordinary clothes. Here she was wearing the full Rangda costume, the striped trousers ornamented with fur, the pendulous cloth breasts, and leather trappings. Only the mask, with the long hair which is attached to it, was missing.) Played by an old man, I Renis. She dances; addresses her chief pupil; instructs the four other pupils (those who were the first to appear) who are seated at the east end of the performance place. They rise and execute a dance. The comic characters, Poenta and Kartala, followers of the King, appear, and through their banter make known the situation. They do typical posturing, a burlesque of the stylized behavior of the chief characters. They make extemporaneous jokes referring to the present, and meanwhile let fall the names of the characters concerned in the play and the fact that the land is besieged by pestilence. Enter the King. His costume and his part are those of a Djaoek (usually associated with the Barong play). Further antics of Poenta and Kartala. The birth scene. Four comic characters, among them a pregnant woman, played by a man made up with an enormous protruding belly. This character mimes labor pains and the breaking of the water. Two ISjaks, malevolent spirits of

District

10:25

people in evil form, come on to attack the unfortunate party of the pregnant woman, who are refugees from the pestilence. The lejaks are a man, wearing a terrifying mask, and a small boy of about eight, his face grotesquely painted and wearing a long tail to represent a monkey. During the scene the child is born: a doll is removed from under the wrappings of the "pregnant woman." The large lejak carries off the dead child, then returns it to its father, who, confused, makes as if to eat it. There follows a riot of anal obscenities, the lejaks poking the behinds of the refugees, and a play upon the supposed invisibility of the attacking spirits, in which the comic characters Poenta and Kartala also take part. [The actors who afterward went in trance were I Djodog, as the pregnant woman, who later played one of the Rangdas, and I Regeg, as the big lejak, also in the kris dance.] Divination scene. The trance practitioner (the balian) and her attendant are men playing the part of women, also comic characters. The refugees have left the scene, but Poenta, Kartala, and the lijaks remain. The Balian is seated before mock offerings and enacts a burlesque trance, while the clowns and evil spirits continue their tussle, the lejaks stealing the offerings, causing the balian's bell to ring unaccountably, and so forth. In the trance utterance the balian announces that Ni Doekoeh Batoer is responsible for the pestilence, that she possesses eight hundred pupils, and that those which are bothering them at the moment are among them. The Witch herself has not yet arrived. Then the balian comes out of trance and asks what was revealed in her utterance. She pretends to be afraid to remain after she has heard the content of the communication. But the others de-

Village

10:45

10:50

10:58

Strife

Played

tain her to ask for a charm which will allow them to catch the evil spirits. This she prepares for them before she departs. There ensues a boisterous scene in which the lejaks, made visible by the charm, are pursued by Poenta and Kartala. The big one climbs high in a coconut tree, the small one is captured and ducked in an irrigation ditch adjacent to the performance place. Then they return to the scene, and the big lejak is finally unmasked. [The part of the balian was taken by I Ompog, who later played one of the Rangdas and, although he did not take part in the kris dance, went in trance in the temple court at the sight of his wife entranced.] Burial scene. A mock corpse is carried on by four comic characters. The dead man is said to be the father of one of them. They burlesque the digging of the grave, while Poenta and Kartala act as formal interlocutors. The joke is that they want to bury the body in a field, not in the regular graveyard. This scene was a mere sketch, very brief. It is designed, with the birth scene and the divination scene, to render by comic means the atmosphere of misfortune in the country, which necessitates the attack upon the Rangda. Enter the King's Minister, formal in costume and gesture. The followers Poenta and Kartala address him in the vernacular, making known to the audience his intention of killing the Witch, while the Minister himself gives utterance in obsolete language. He advances and returns before the main gate of the temple (which in this instance is used to represent the house of the Witch). The Rangda, masked and holding her white cloth over the top of her head, appears in the doorway of the main gate. The Minister draws his kris and dashes up the steps to attack her. He stabs and stabs, then retires and repeats the rush

Out

11:01

11:10

11:15

in

Trance

161

upon her. She falls down, sprawling upon her back on the steps. She rises, staggering, as if drunken, and descends to the performance ground. The Minister approaches her, and another leads her for a minute. It is not clear whether the man in the mask, Dέwa Ketoet Kelenang, is at this time already in trance or not. The Rangda dances alone down the performance place, while the Minister exits. [According to the story, he is supposed now to transform himself into the Barong, since she has transformed herself into the Rangda.] Rangda dances slowly; returns to a central position and calls the lejaks, her pupils. Four smaller Rangdas, representing her pupils, answer to her call; two come running from the east end of the performance place, two from the west. They play and gambol about her; one crouches at her feet, covering its mask with odd cowering gestures, wraps its arms around her knees; two more go swaggering off with their arms about each other. They take up the Chief Rangdas call of "Lejak! Lejak!" [The players are Roegroeg, Djodog, Gog, and Ompog (the odd cowering one); the first three take part in the kris dance, the last also went in trance later.] The Barong emerges. It dances, facing away from the Rangda. Neka is not in it, but Doerja and Tabih, neither of whom go in trance today. The minor Rangdas disappear. The Chief Rangda approaches the Barong, fingers the leather pieces along its spine, addresses it. Fight between Rangda and Barong ensues. He snaps his jaws, she waves her magic cloth and sways this way and that. The ten male kris dancers appear. They arrange themselves in formation at the west end of the place, facing toward

Gianjar District the Barong and Rangda, in a double

11:22

T h e first two men at the head of the

line. T h e y kneel on one knee and hold

lines, Roegroeg and Intoegan, make a

their krisses in their

hands, ex-

dash forward, running the length of the

tended. T h e y are uniformly dressed in

space, and in turn attack the Rangda

white loincloths and wear red hibiscus

with their krisses. Roegroeg is the first

flowers behind their ears. As they kneel

to stab at her, while Intoegan

a man comes out with more red flowers

round her. Roegroeg falls back, Intoe-

which h e places behind the ears of those

gan leaps forward to attack. Rangda is

who had none. T h e y are not now s u p

unarmed except for her

posed to be in trance, but it is remarked

but she is so tall that she towers over

that while

them by the full head of the great mask.

some

right

are

still, others

are

magic

circles

cloth,

trembling violently. [A convulsive flex-

She hurls Intoegan to the ground, and

ing of Roegroeg's thigh muscle is well re-

he is the first to fall down in trance,

corded on the film.] H e also begins to

rolling upon the ground. Roegroeg then

pant, breathing harder and harder. T h e y

falls down too. [ T h e film shows a flex-

are tense, waiting for their c u e to rush

ing of Intoegan's leg muscle as he is

upon the Rangda. I n unison they raise

carried off.]

their krisses, look away,

toward

the next two in the lines of kneeling

the Rangda, emitting a grunting shout.

men waiting to attack, rise and turn,

The

out,

facing away from the Rangda, lifting

turns the Barong, w h o walks through

their krisses in the air, and stand poised

the line of kneeling men.

for a moment with leg raised. T h e n they

As the Barong passes them, they give a

spin around and make the dash u p to-

shout, and the entire formation springs

ward the Rangda. First one and then

forward, running toward the Rangda,

the other grabs her round the waist,

and they drop again on one knee before

trying to stab her. T h e y behave as if

her. T h e Rangda faces them and waves

overpowered by her superior strength,

her cloth at them; they cower and turn

and fall, one in

their heads away, then rise to attack;

spasm, the other face down upon the

she waves them down; they rise; she

ground. As the men fall, they are lifted

temple

priest

Rawa

then

comes

Now

Debot and

a violent

Regeg,

trembling

waves them down. T h e m e n rise and

by attendants, and moved out of the

shout and turn away from the Rangda,

way, arranged neady in two lines, ly-

facing toward the west. W i t h

ing with their head out and their feet

another

shout they complete a dance step which

toward the center of the performance

turns them again toward the Rangda.

place.

krisses,

Rawa is at this time sitting crouched

threatening her. S h e advances toward

before the orchestra, picking his teeth.

They

shout

and

raise

their

them; they retreat, forced back and back

T h e third pair, Sadra and Tjedoegan,

down

performance

make their dash forward as the last two

place. T h e y still keep in the formation

fall to the ground. O n e of them falls

of two lines, they retreat by

close to Rangda's

the length of the

moving

feet

and

begins

a

backward raising the knee very high in

strong twitching of the feet which con-

the formal dance step associated with

tinues all the time he is on the ground.

war dances. W h e n they have retired to

T h e y in turn are lifted and laid out in

the far end, where the Barong stands,

line.

they kneel again on either side of him,

At the next attack R a n g d a seems al-

while he snaps his jaws at them.

ready

to be weakening.

One

of

the

Village Strife Played Out in

11:25

fourth pair, Samba and Djodog, seems almost to be holding her up, with his arm round her waist as he draws back his kris to stab at her. Samba, after his attack, falls back, losing his balance, and describes a perfect circle, running backwards, until he falls flat on his back. He lies with his legs apart, his hands thrown over his head, his kris firmly clutched in his right hand. There is a violent tremor in his legs: he swings them together and apart again convulsively. As two men rush up to move him, one takes hold of his kris, endeavoring to wrest it from his grasp, but is unable to get it away from him. The man holds it firmly as Samba is moved, so that Samba cannot wound them with it. Djodog is trembling only slightly as he goes down. As the last two attack, the Rangda is swaying, as if about to fall. An assistant comes up and puts an arm around her, to brace her. Geledet, with his kris held ready, crouches low and dances about in a wide circle, closing in on the Rangda, as if about to pounce on her, his movements like the crouching advance in a primitive war dance, stalking. When the last two have attacked, three men take hold of the Rangda, now ready to fall, tilt her up horizontally and carry her into the temple. The ten men are lying in the two rows, most of them in spread-eagle position with legs apart and arms over their heads. But two of them, Samba and Gog, turn on their sides and throw their arms over their faces as if to shut out the world. The Barong comes toward them now and passes down between the two rows of recumbent men, as the priest Anak Agoeng Njoman goes amongst them with holy water, sprinkling each in turn. Rawa is at this time walking about, watching, not officiating.

11:30

Trance

163

The Barong turns and starts toward the west end again. The men rise of one accord, and with a shout and a bound, lifting their krisses in the air, they go after him, executing in almost perfect formation a dance step of the baris type. At the west end they turn and dance down again making short jerky jumps of the body, like spasmodic twitches, as they pause, and begin a new step forward. [Close-ups of Intoegan and Roegroeg in the film show a strained, nervous expression, and Roegroeg's lips are slighdy protruding.] When the men have reached the east end, the women dancers emerge from the temple and form themselves in two lines, headed by Mangkoe Tegeh, the priestess and experienced trancer on one side, and by a robust and handsome young woman, Ni Renjah, a good dancer, opposite her. Ni Djantoek, the other experienced trancer, is fourth in line behind Mangkoe Tegeh. The two litde girls, Moenet and Soekoen, who danced in the play as the Witch's pupils, have the last positions in the two lines. The men kneel at the east end. The women, acting on this cue, begin slowly to dance forward, executing a dance of the redjang type (temple dancing), holding the kris in the right hand, close to the body, with the left hand extended; then, as they step forward, reversing the position of the arms, so that the left is brought close to the body, and the kris is extended. The men, holding their krisses close to their bodies, advance to meet the double line of women. (It is a very pretty figure, and no one would have guessed it was a new and completely unrehearsed development.) The faces of the women are for the most part serene, with that composed and rather detached look of the Balinese dancer. Only Djantoek wears a rather

164

11:32

Gianjar District strained and anxious look, frowning as she peers over the shoulder of the girl in front of her to see what is happening at the head of the line. At one point Ngales (who was afterward the most violent in trance) was a little out of line. Mangkoe Tegeh is very serious and intent, leading the line with assurance. The two little girls follow the motions of the women in front of them, with great facility but rather hesitantly, as if they were trying out a new series of steps in which they had not yet been trained. The lines of men and women, slowly advancing, pass each other. Suddenly Rawa comes dancing out in the center, in the space between the formation of the men and that of the women. He is holding a brazier, and with one hand held high in the air, he dances in a mad circle. Immediately the men and the women point their krisses at their breasts and begin to do ngoerek. All of the twenty performers go through the motions of stabbing themselves, leaping forward and back or prancing from side to side. The women scream and cry, and toss their heads so that their hair is loosed and floats wildly. Mangkoe Tegeh is off at once with a long series of pumping ngoerek motions, very rapid (11 in 8 seconds), bending her body forward to press upon the kris, in the characteristically feminine manner of performing ngoerek. The other women behave more or less as Mangkoe Tegeh, except that in general their ngoerek motions are slower than hers, and the rhythmic pumping not so often repeated between pauses (as 7 times in 7 seconds, 6 in 6 seconds, 2 in 2.4 seconds, then pause). Gaberocg has a reeling circular motion as she does ngoerek. Rawa has given up the brazier and got hold of two krisses. As Rawa makes a dash forward, two men, Roegroeg and Debot fall over on their backs, drawing

their knees up and still stabbing at their chests. Rawa is prancing in the center of the space. He attacks with both krisses, first the crown of his head, then his chest. Almost at once he is wounded, the blood streams down his chest There is an immediate response, eight or ten men rush upon Rawa and swarm about him, some of the entranced hurl themselves forward to suck the gushing blood from his wound, the assistants try to take hold of his arms to remove his krisses. A woman falls prone and limp on the ground. The men struggle around Rawa, stretching out his arms horizontally, pulling away the men in trance, who fight back fiercely. Finally they manage to wrest away Rawa's krisses, and, holding them aloft, the group of assistants hustle him off into the temple. Roegroeg, who was sucking the blood, is in a furious fighting state, and a large group is required to hold him. The Barong moves forward to mingle in the melee. Meanwhile the other men and women continue to do ngoerek. Two women who took no part in the dance rush forward with krisses and begin to stab themselves, mingling with the others. The priest Anak Agoeng Njoman goes amongst them with holy water, sprinkling them as he passes, with little hopping steps. During the pauses between the attacks upon themselves, the women dance from side to side or stand, with head down, in the same place. One of the women who has just rushed in, a frail older woman in shabby dress, Ni Latri, in her pauses hops violently from side to side, leaping from one foot to the other. She is one of those, like Mangkoe Tegeh, whose ngoerek motions are rapid and relatively long continued. Mangkoe Tegeh herself, when "pausing," circles around in a six-foot circle, with head down, her hair falling

Village Strife Played Out in

11:35

over her face, very intent, and oblivious of the others. Ngales at one point looks to the woman at her side, moves ofif a step to get out of her way and, when she sees the other begin to do ngoerek again, herself begins once more to do ngoerek. The assistants are now disarming the remaining men and women. The Barong has been led off toward the gate, and the head player goes in trance in the gateway of the temple. Substitutes are put in. The assistants are grappling with a little woman lying on the ground, who, when they try to take hold of her, slides down sideways between their hands. They pick her up and carry her off. Ni Latri gives so much trouble when they try to disarm her that one man picks up the top of her body under his arm, the other grasps her legs, and she is borne off, kicking wildly and thrashing her arms in the air. Two men have hold of Roegroeg by the arms. He shakes his head, stiffens his body, and draws back from them. Then, as they pull him toward the temple, he gives in, goes rather limp, takes a step forward, stumbles, and would fall over sideways were they not there to hold him up. Inside the temple. Ni Djantoek, who had been led peaceably into the temple, once inside had another seizure and burst out crying. The old man I Renis also went in trance in the temple court and insisted on getting into the Barong. Now all the entranced have been led or carried into the temple court. The men are laid out with their backs against the wall, in the shade; the women are seated, their heads fallen forward and the hair hanging over their faces. Several, among them Ngales and Gaberoeg, are so limp that they have to be supported from behind. Gaberoeg

11:40

Trance

165

is crying and continuing the rotary motion of her torso, as she did when she was performing with the kris. Ngales is lying back with her mouth open, apparently deeply unconscious. Within a few feet of her is going on all the disturbance centering around Rawa. Rawa had been taken into the temple and set upon the stone ledge of a shrine. Limp and unaware when he was taken in, he seemed to come to himself, examined his wound, and wiped off the blood. Some of the entranced men as they were brought into the court again rushed upon Rawa and tried to suck his wound. Rawa then leaped up and seized a kris, and, dashing out toward the Barong in the center of the court, tried once more to do ngoerek. Several of the men lying against the wall at this leaped up, shouting, and rushed after him, also wanting to do ngoerek, beating their chests for lack of a kris. The assistants caught hold of Rawa and the other men and led them back to their places. Arak was poured on Rawa's chest, and he again seemed to be conscious, for he directed them not to pour it on the wound. Neka comes up to the group standing about Rawa. He is much excited, turns his head this way and that, puffs out his lips, breathing fast. Then he pushes one of the attendants out of the way, steps up to Rawa, who is half lying against the shrine, lifts first one foot and then the other, placing the sole of the foot firmly upon the wound (Fig. 83). His manner is compulsive, not brutal. The others standing about make no protest. Neka then turns and walks off, as if his business were done. The Barong is brought up to Rawa, and he is lifted and forced in under the mask so that they can brush the Barong's beard over his face. [This is curative, and a common device for bringing

166

11:45

Gianjar the entranced to themselves.] Roegioeg is still very violent, taking five to hold him. The men laid along the wall twist and groan and kick their legs as others try to hold them. Some are very violent, wallowing and biting the ground. The scene is one of great disorder, twentyfive men and women at one end of the court, many of them out of control and the others in a state of collapse. For a time it seemed almost a hopeless task for the priests and assistants to handle such a large group of entranced persons, and at each fresh outburst individuals who had been partially calmed would break out again in convulsive spasms or leap up to perform some erratic, unanticipated act. It looked as if the situation, instead of growing quieter, were growing more and more intense in excitement. Rawa has been replaced against the shrine, lying back panting. The priest Anak Agoeng Njoman prays over him and applies blood stopping medicine to his wound. Rawa again gets up as if he wanted once more to do ngoerek. The priest loses his temper, grabs Rawa by the hair, twists his nose and ears and hits him in the face. Roegroeg dashes up and hurls himself on Rawa, the priest takes him also by the hair, and Roegroeg falls flat on the ground. The priest continues to abuse Rawa, telling him that he is acting proudly and showing off. Rawa finally slumps to the ground. He is lifted and carried back to the shrine, and given arak. The Barong is brought over to the other men in trance lying against the wall. Neka goes up and gives arak to the man in the Barong. The kris men sit up dazedly, in half upright position. One is shouting for arak. Another is trembling wildly. All but two besides Roegroeg

District

11:50

11:52

seem to be out of trance, they talk a word or two to each other, mostly exclamations and the pain-word, "Adoh!" The women are lying back against the men supporting them, crying. Holy water and the brazier are given to Rawa, but he does not respond; he is still in trance. The priest attends to the men against the wall, wafting the brazier to each of them and sprinkling them with holy water. Roegroeg, fighting, is given holy water and arak. He stands up and reels off behind a shrine. All of the kris men now seem to be out of trance, though many of the women are still in. Ni Latri has a sudden seizure, half rising and jiggling up and down. Rawa is still not out of trance. At the same time, Neka and Renis, the two old men, both in trance, had seated themselves before the Main Shrine and begun to enact a little scene, the conversation between two demons possessing them. The priest Anak Agoeng Njoman is not paying any attention to them, as he is busy trying to bring the women to themselves. Neither is anyone paying any attention to D6wa Ketoet Ketenang, who played the Chief Rangda, and has been lying stiffly stretched out on a pavilion at the back of the court, ever since he was brought inside (11:25). Rawa now appears definitely to come out of trance. He walks out into the center of the court, stands in his characteristic pose, with legs apart. The priest Anak Agoeng Njoman brings the brazier over to one of the women, Ni Gaberoeg, who is seated crying and being supported. He says to her, "What's the matter? Can you speak?" Neka approaches, exclaiming crossly "What? What?" She goes in hard again, and her husband, I Ompog, who was behind her, falls over also in trance, burying his

Village Strife Played Out in face in the laps of the people holding his wife's head. Neka goes away. T h e women are one by one slowly coming to. T h e little girl Soekoen is lying with her head in an old woman's lap. Ni Ngales appears to come out. In a moment she has another seizure, becomes very violent, fights, and struggles, while five people hold her, one holding her feet tight together. A woman does up her hair. Mangkoe Tegeh has come out, and is sprinkling others. Soekoen appears to come out. Gaberoeg is now just trembling. Her husband, I Ompog, is clinging with both hands to the priest's hand, his head is bobbing undirected. 12:00 m. Ngales is given to drink. She starts to cry again. She says, "I'm going home." 12:03 P.M. Ni Gaberoeg lies quietly. Then her shoulders tremble, she sits up. ( T h e two women, Gaberoeg and Ngales are seated only a few feet apart. They both ask for an offering, labaan poetih koening.) The priest lays out a small offering Qsegehan) at the feet of Gaberoeg. He says to Ompog, who is crying, "Now stay here for a minute; don't go away." He lifts the brazier and prays. Ngales calls out for fire. Gaberoeg is up on her knees, swaying, quiet, but still in trance and still being supported. The priest lifts the leaf-cup of arak, dedicates it, and pours it on the ground beside the offerings. Then he presents the brazier to Gaberoeg, that she may lean over it to be "smoked," and to Ompog. He offers a cup of palm wine to Ompog, who refuses it, then to Gaberoeg, who drinks it. When he has finished with the couple, he goes to Ngales, and sets out at her feet a similar offering. She 12:05 becomes violent, thrashing her body about, calling out, "Adoh! Adoh!" She struggles, on her face an "orgasm-notquite-reached" expression. She shouts, clenches both her hands and holds them

12:07

12:08

Trance

167

down in front of her. T h e assistants spread her legs. She calls again for fire (the brazier). T h e priest gives her a leaf-cup of arak; she jiggles it in her hands. He gives her to drink. T h e brazier is put down before her, the ashes blow all over the priest's face, and she wildly puts her hands on i t All the assistants giggle. They call out for water. She begins to cry again. She says, "Hurry up, brother courtier, how lazy you are!" She scatters the contents of the brazier, fights at it. They hold the brazier close to her face. She breathes in the smoke, comes out of trance. She takes the preferred holy water, washes her face, and rather guzzles at it, gurgling as she splashes it over her face. Two people lift her. She stamps one foot hard, then starts off across the court, stamping both feet as if to restore sensation to a foot asleep. While this was going on at the far end of the court, in the center I Neka has got into the Barong, and is once more going after Rawa. T h e other trancers have collected on the mat before the Main Shrine; Rawa is sitting there quietly. Neka lifts the Barong mask and points at Rawa through the opening, calling out, "Disobedient, disobedient, you wouldn't pay attention to what you were told." Then he rushes at Rawa from the rear and leaps on his back, spreading the Barong's coat over him. T h e Barong backs away, and Neka collapses on the ground. The Barong is lifted off, and a substitute is put in. Rawa has begun to bleed again. Neka comes to sit beside Renis upon the mat. They whisper together. Mangkoe Tegeh comes up and joins in the whispering. Renis says, ' I f it goes on like this for so long a time, the [god's] subjects will be dried to a crisp (feeding)." They are sitting in the sun. Rawa

168

12:13

12:20

Gianjar answers, "If it's possible, may it be done quickly." T h e two entranced old men, Renis and N e k a (Figs. 84 and 8 5 ) , set about making medicine to apply to Rawa's wound. Anak Agoeng N j o m a n comes over to join the group. Renis recites the formula for the medicine, " G r o u n d lime, the points of leaves of the santen tree, mixed with holy water." Assistants fetch the leaves and grind u p the mixture. W h e n he has poured in the holy water, Renis lifts the medicine on a banana leaf and prays over it. N e k a takes the medicine from him, saying, " O h let me have it, so that I'll have had a chance." H e also prays over it. T h e n he takes the stamens of two hibiscus flowers and prays over them. T h e two medicines are then rubbed upon the wound of Rawa. While the priest prays, N e k a lays his head on the priest's shoulder, and emits loud snores. T h e y give Rawa sandalwood water to drink and holy water (banjoen tjcikof). In the group, besides Rawa, Renis, N e k a , and Anak Agoeng N j o m a n , are also Roegroeg and Ompog, still in trance. Ompog is swaying from side to side, Roegroeg leans his head on the shoulder of Renis. D6wa Ketoet Kelinang (who played the Chief R a n g d a ) is now carried down from the pavilion where he had been lying and set beside them on the mat. Some of the women trancers are also present, Mangkoe T e g e h and N i Pitja, but out of trance. Rawa sits quietly, conscious, staring straight ahead of him. T h e Barong comes over to stand immediately behind the group. Anak Agoeng N j o m a n continues praying and dedicating the segeh agoeng offerings. T h e live chick is brought to him. As the priest prepares the chick, N e k a goes through the antics characteristic of him at the chicken-eating. H e

District

12:30

holds out his cupped hands, grasping for it. H e grunts, snores, snorts, giggles, and roars. H e is given the chicken and plays with it, as if about to eat i t T h e n he turns and gives it to D e w a Ketoet Kelenang, who clamps his jaws shut over the chick's head and has to have the body wrenched away a n d the head itself gouged out of his mouth. N e k a licks the coals from the brazier and rubs them over his mouth. D έ w a Ketoet and Roegroeg are given arak to drink. Roegroeg is apparently nauseated. N e k a lifts a leaf-cup of arak, dedicates it, and hands it to Renis. D e w a Ketoet puts his face in the brazier. H e takes a flower and makes a reverence facing the shrine. T h e priest also makes a reverence and sprinkles them all with holy water. All finish with a reverence toward the shrine. D 6 w a Ketoet gets up, walks over to where the Rangda mask (which he wore) lies upon the edge of the shrine and makes a reverence to it. T h e n he crosses the court, goes u p to the Barong, wipes his face in the beard, puts his head in the mouth for a moment, and makes a reverence to it. Everyone gets u p and leaves the temple. Outside the temple, when we are collecting our cameras and equipment to depart, the crowd gathers around us in a friendly and casual manner, as if nothing untoward had happened. A m o n g them are D e w a Ketoet and M a n g k o e T e g e h . R a w a appears to be paid. H i s chest is swollen around the wound, but it has at last stopped bleeding. H e does not speak of it. N o one mentions the participation of the women nor the exceptionally febrile nature of the performance.

T h e table shows the synopsis of times for this performance.

Village Strife Played Out in Trance SYNOPSIS

OF T I M E S :

PACOETAN,

DECEMBER

169 16,

1937

Hours Complete performance

9 : 0 0 A.M.—12:30 P.M.

Minutes

3Vi

Time from first trance manifestation till all are out.

11:22 A.M.—12:30 P.M.

Preliminary male kris dance culminating in their attack on Rangda

11:15 A.M.—11:22 A.M.

7

Secondary male kris dance

11:25 A.M.—11:30 A.M.

5

Mixed male and female kris dances culminating in ngoerek

11:30 A.M.—11:32 A.M.

2

8

11:32 A.M.—11:35 A.M.

3

11:15 A.M.—11:35 A.M.

20

11:35 A.M.—11:50 A.M.

15

dancers

11:35 A.M.—12:08 P.M.

33

Last final offering, chicken-eating and bringing out trancers

12:11 P.M.—12:30 P.M.

19

activity, through the removal of

Ngoerek

all trancers to temple From

1

first

appearance

of

kris

dancers

through removal to temple Time for bringing to the majority of male kris dancers Time for bringing to the last female kris

Individuals longest in trance: D6wa Ketoet Kelenang

11:25 A.M.—12:30 P.M.

1

5

Roegroeg (in and out)

11:22 A.M.—12:30 P.M.

1

8

Ngales

11:32 A.M.—12:08 P.M.

36

Rawa (in and out)

11:32 A.M.—11:52 A.M.

20

Mangkoe Tegeh

11:32 A.M.—11:52 A.M.

20

ODALAN

AT

THE

POERA

TRANCE

OF

BABIAN,

MARSA,

PAGOETAN,

DENUNCIATION

5 : 2 0 P.M. T h e alarm is sounded to call the people to the temple. It is time for the gods to be taken to the bath. In the temple court, people are presenting offerings and receiving holy water; they make their reverences both to the

DECEMBER OF

21,

1937

RAWA

shrine of the Chief God, and to the Barong, who is standing in his "house" together with the five Rangda masks. T h e temple priests Anak Agoeng Njoman, Rawa, Rawa's wife, the old man I Gangsar, the priestess from the Tegeh

170

5:33

5:35

5:38

Gianjar District temple (Mangkoe Tegeh) are present, busy with the offerings and giving out holy water. I Neka is also there, acting as priest for the offerings given to the Barong. Rawa offers libations, tjanangs (betel offerings) and the lighted brazier to the Barong. Then Neka takes the brazier, offers it to the Barong; he himself bends over it, covering it with his hands as if to bring himself in trance, and, removing a brand from it, "eats a little fire." People standing about comment that he is not yet in trance. He gets in the front of the Barong, another man, I Lemon, in the back, and they go down from the pavilion and cross the court to a position before the Main Shrine. As he approaches it Neka leaps twice in the air, off both feet at once; then squats, feet apart, causing the jaws of the Barong to snap before the Main Shrine. This represents a reverence Qmehakti) of the Barong, as the representative of the god Ratoe Anom, to his father, the god of the Main Shrine. T h e Rangda masks, exposed upon the tops of their boxes, are also brought over carried upon the heads of women. Anak Agoeng Njoman offers a brazier before the Main Shrine. When he has done, Neka jumps to his feet, stamping and leaping, now admittedly in trance. He lifts the mask of the Barong high over his head. He is given a libation. In this case the leaf-cup of arak is poured down his throat while he remains in the Barong. The procession forms to accompany the gods to the bath, with ceremonial parasols and spears, followed by the marching orchestra. The Barong and four of the Rangdas are joined by their relative, the Barong Bangkal (pig) from the neighboring handjar Toeboeh. He is made of wood cut from the trees of this temple and therefore has to come home on fes-

5:50

5:51

tival days to take part in the ritual. While the others were preparing to leave the temple, he had been taken round to the back to give offerings at the foot of the tree from which his mask was cut. The fifth Rangda did not go to the bath but remained in the temple. One of the priests told me that she stayed "in order that the temple should not be left unguarded, and to receive her mother (the Chief Rangda) on her return." Arrived at the bridge over the ravine, Neka in the Barong pauses at the top of the inclined path leading down to the litde bath temple, making a scene, so that the Barong seems to sniff the descent, to twist his head as if looking afar, and snaps his jaws. Then with a run he goes down the incline into the little temple. Rawa and Mangkoe Tegeh go to his head to hold him. The temple cut away from the side of the rock is so small that the Barong's head is near the litde shrine at the north side, and his tail almost brushes the rear wall. There is room only for him to make one pace backward or forward. The Rangdas are carried in, their bearers stand in a row facing the Barong, their backs to the wall. With a few spearbearers and the priests, the temple is quite filled and crowded. The Barong crouches before the shrine, snapping violently; then stands, with head held high in the air. Neka's feet are far apart. People begin to chant. I Renis takes a vessel and goes down a precipitous trail, leading from the head of the temple down to one of the water spouts, to get water. He returns with it. Neka puts his feet together. He snaps the jaws of the Barong, and a tremor begins in his legs. He stamps on the ground, moves resdessly forward and back. Now another man takes his place in the front of the Barong. Neka falls forward on his knees. His hands are stretched upward and out, as if asking for holy water.

Village Strife Played Out in

5:57

6:00

He takes a flower, rises, goes out the way Renis went, over the side of the precipice. In a moment he comes back, kneels again, with hands extended, fingers stiffish. Rawa places a smoking brazier before him. Up to this time he is the center of attention. Suddenly women and children scream outside the temple on the inclined path. Everyone stands up (including Neka) and approaches the entrance. Marsa, his head thrown back, a tortured expression on his face, is being held up and half carried by four or five others. They bring him up the incline and maneuver him into the temple entrance, where he immediately becomes violent, breaks away from them, and butts into the rear of the Barong with his head. As he butts, Neka is standing, quiet but tense, a dazed expression on his face [not unlike Rekoen of Sindoe watching other trancers]. People call out excitedly to let Marsa get in the Barong if he wants to. T h e man in the front gives up his place to Marsa; Neka gets in the back. Marsa in the Barong makes a dash forward, sticking its head into the shrine and snapping viciously at the offerings laid there. Barong leaps and snaps, very violently, then quieter. The other people present are excited. They call out for incense; they discuss sending for Anak Agoeng Njoman who has remained in the big temple; they send off a child to fetch him and instruct another child, Marsa's son, to take his betel-basket from his waist. Lemon, who was in the back of the Barong, squats immediately behind it, blinking and twitching his mouth. He calls out frantically to a child of six, who leaves the temple. Meanwhile Marsa turns the Barong wildly this way and that. Rawa takes hold of its head to restrain it. Marsa makes no trouble when the betel-basket

6:02

6:06

6:10

Trance

171

is removed, the child lifting the feathers of the Barong's coat to get at it. Then Marsa has another spasm, goes backward stamping. The attendants try to get him out. They surround him cautiously, one man creeping under the Barong, two on either side, and one squatting in front of it. But they fail, Marsa will not give up his position. Neka, in the rear of the Barong, calls out, "Me! Let I Batoe, now!" He falls down on his knees. Another man is ready to take the back, Neka advances under the Barong to the front. But Marsa won't give in. I Renis says to him politely, "Would you be pleased to change? If it would please you, let your place be taken by your servant." But Marsa only shakes his head to show he would not be pleased. Neka retreats to the rear again, where he displaces the other inan. He is grunting loudly, he lifts his feet and stamps. Marsa is quivering, so that the whole fore part of the Barong shivers. Thus he continues, with occasional paroxysms of violence, prancing back and forth in the small space, snapping at the offerings, being unruly. Marsa speaks from within the Barong: "Where, where is he?" He makes a rush, advancing over the head of Rawa, who is squatting to one side, facing him. There is no room. If he pushed, Rawa would fall over the side. Neka responds by lifting his feet and stamping. Marsa calls for tjanangs. He runs the Barong's head up into the little shrine. I Renis hands him a tjanang, Rawa hands him some coins, which he places in the offering. First he holds the coins out over the brazier, as if to smoke them—but at the time the brazier was not alight Marsa falls down. All gather around, trying to get him out from under the Barong, also gathering up the feather coat of the Barong which he crushed into the mud as he fell. They are not able to get Marsa out. Neka, in the rear, faces round in

Gianjar the Barong, facing his tail. H e prances. T h e n he turns again. He gets out from under, stands beside it, panting. T h e n he puts his head down, squats. Marsa (calling out to Neka's demon): Batoe! Neka: Yes. Marsa: Come here! (Talking from within the Barong, in short breathless sentences): Have you brought the -pedjati offerings? Where's the kwangen? ( A n offering). Rawa: W e have not brought them. Marsa: W h a t are you going to bring then? What's the use of my coming? Rawa: T h e bathing offerings, those for making the reverence, such things. Marsa: What shall I use to make my reverence? [He has asked for a kwangen to lift between his fingers in the reverence, more formal than a simple flower.] Rawa: I beg your pardon humbly, there are flowers. Mangkoe Tegeh addresses him politely, and an older woman, of the highest caste, belonging to the family of the founder of the temple, also speaks to him, as if to reassure and calm him. She crouches near the tail of the Barong. "This is only for the bath," she explains to Marsa, "later on you will get the piodalan offerings. Be merciful; all your subjects obey." Marsa turns round and hits Neka, from within the Barong. He calls for a white flower. T h e high-caste woman says, "Have mercy, have mercy, have pity upon your subjects!" Marsa snaps the Barong's jaws violently. One can hear him panting. H e is given a white flower and makes his reverence from within the Barong (very unusual). Marsa: Shall I address my subjects here? Be ready, be ready; take a white flower and face to the northeast! I Batoe is nothing but a demon!

District

6:17

6:20

Neka takes a white flower and, facing northeast, makes a reverence to the Barong. T h e n he takes a yellow flower and repeats the reverence. Marsa: Have you done it, Batoe, have you done it, Batoe, is it done? Now use a black one; have you done it to the north with a black one, Batoe, have you? Neka: It is done. ( T h e Barong snaps, swinging its head up in the air, then from side to side.) Marsa holds out his hands from within the Barong, asking for holy water. I Renis gives it to him. T h e high-caste woman says, "That's it, may you be bathed. . . . May you speak nicely!" Marsa: Hasn't my priest come? He betrays me, he does not come. I am not believed. Where is he, where is my priest, where? Now Anak Agoeng Njoman, summoned from the temple, comes hurrying down the path. T h e woman says, "Here he is, he has come, your priest, Lord!" Anak Agoeng Njoman goes to the head of the Barong, seats himself facing north, and begins to recite prayers, having first made a reverence to the Barong. Marsa: Where is my priest? He's a traitor. Anak Agoeng Njoman makes another reverence. Marsa: How now, priest, am I now to be given holy water from the spring (tirta goemana)} Shall I go home now; will you take care of me here, or shall I go home? [He does not mean to come out of trance, but to return to the temple, which is also "home."] Anak Agoeng Njoman: If there is utterance, may it be poured forth here; if there is any, let it here be spoken. Marsa: How can I speak here? If it's here, you'll have to watch over me here till morning. Anak Agoeng Njoman: No, it is better

Village

6:26

Strife

Played Out in

to go home first. Can we give you the piodalan offerings here, not in your palace? T h e priest sprinkles the Barong, and then the Rangdas and the Barong Bangkal, which was standing outside the temple as there was no room within. Marsa continues to snap the jaws of the Barong and to pant in short snorts. A man says to him, "Please don't do that." T h e highcaste woman speaks soothingly to Marsa again, explaining that this is only the bath, that he'll get the big offerings when he returns to the temple, "and please to hurry, for the road is bad." ( I t has got quite dark by this time.) Marsa is quieter. Now he allows the Barong to be lifted from him. Neka says, "Now me, I Batoe, now it's my turn." Marsa says, "Are you ready, priest? I'll go home; let my place be taken." Neka gets into the Barong in his place. Marsa twists his head from side to side exactly as a Barong and throws it back on his neck. He is bathed with sweat. T w o men support him, his arms around their necks. H e is panting hard. He says, "I'm going home. I'm sick of it here." T h e others answer him in the tone of voice in which one would speak to a spoiled unruly child, promising him a treat if he'll go home nicely. He lays his head back on the shoulder of the man supporting him, as if exhausted. T h e brazier is presented to him. Marsa: How shall I go home now? Shall I fly away invisibly? ( I f I do, if you let m e ) I'll not come back tonight. Anak Agoeng Njoman: No, if it's possible, may it not be so. W e have not yet given the -piodalan offerings; we've done nothing yet. iMarsa: I have not been allowed to speak to my subjects. What, shall I speak to them at home? After a while, I'll not be here. Anak Agoeng Njoman: No, mav you go

6:30

6:32

6:38

Trance

173

nicely on your way home, so that your subjects may follow you. Marsa: Well, bring the wages (arak). I came unexpectedly; if there's nothing here, come along, let's go home, shall we? During this conversation, Neka once made the Barong's jaws snap violendy. Rawa put his hand up to stop it, which it did at once. Marsa twists his head around as he speaks. Anak Agoeng Njoman reaches out and takes hold of the back of his neck. He holds it a moment, firmly and soothingly, to control him. T h e brazier is again presented, Marsa rolls his head; then he puts his face quite in it. He raises himself, stretching out his hands, still panting. He keeps on rolling his head from side to side. H e is given a leaf-cup of arak, which he drinks. T h e n he puts his face once more in the brazier and makes a reverence. Neka calls out, asking for arak, "A little bit, a litde bit." It is given to him. T h e men supporting Marsa raise him to his feet, and, turning round, the three start out of the temple. They go up the incline, cross the bridge, almost at a run. On the other side the way is rocky and slippery, very steep. They go up this at a terrific pace. Marsa seems to be dragging the others along, in his uncontrollable state, or else they are racing to get him back to the temple as quickly as possible, lest he become unruly again on the wayThey have no lamp. ( I am running behind with a flashlight, but I can't keep up with them; I can only see and hear them stumbling blindly up the path. T h e old high-caste woman and I started immediately behind them, but they gain on us and are twenty yards ahead by the time they reach the temple.) Arrived before the temple, in the space outside the gate Qdjaban), the men stop and stand there, Marsa still being supported. I flash my lamp on him twice. No

174

6:42

6:48

Gianjar response. He has his hands locked on his chest, his head is rolling from side to side. His eyes are closed, a frown is on his forehead, and his mouth is slightly extended in a pouting expression. A mat and the offerings segeh agoeng are brought out from the temple, and the rest of the procession comes up more slowly, the two Barongs and the Rangdas forming in line beside Marsa to receive the offerings, Anak Agoeng Njoman seating himself facing them to officiate. Neka, in the Barong, lifts the mask high in the air, so that we can see him through the opening under the mask. A lamp has been brought out from the temple. Neka prances, lifting his feet waist high; he almost jumps on the offerings. Marsa rocks his head. His hands are separated now, over the shoulders of the men supporting him. The gamelan orchestra, which has come up in the procession, begins to play gilakan, a dance melody with a strong rhythmic beat Neka responds, lifting his feet in the air, as if he were dancing to the music, but not moving from his place. Marsa also responds by tossing and turning his head in time to the music. Neka does the same with the Barong head; then leaps with both feet off the ground; moves backward, then forward again. As the priests prepare the offerings, Marsa calls out, "Well, are you ready, are you ready?" They continue, offering the brazier and sprinkling the offerings with the holy water fetched from the spring. Marsa advances, looks as if he were about to stamp on the offerings. He has freed his right hand, and he points here and there over the offerings, gesturing that he wants this or that. He extends his arm and points, at the same time swinging the arm over the surface of the offerings, blindly, until someone takes up what he wants—or at times he himself takes it up, a bottle for the libation, the

District

6:53

brazier, and so forth. Now he is very excited; he sways from one foot to the other as if he could not contain himself. He calls out, "What about the coins, what about the coins? Hurry up!" [This is the money which must be in the offerings, and the amount of which must be regulated to suit him when he is in trance.] He takes up a botde and pours a libation on the ground beside the offerings, in a circle. He points. On his face is a steady frown, his mouth is set. He falls back a little, both arms round his supporters now. Neka is prancing, making the bells on the Barong ring in time to the music. Barong snaps, leaps in the air, mask lifted very high. Anak Agoeng Njoman is preparing the live chick; he holds it over the brazier. Neka suddenly goes down on his knees, sliding out from under the Barong, and holds out his grasping hands for the chick. Marsa with his leg kicks down the outstretched hand of Neka. In response to this, Anak Agoeng Njoman rises and stands before Marsa, wafting the chick toward him. Then he sits down again and twists off its neck. Neka, disappointed, falls over. Now the group breaks up, all troop into the temple. Neka and Marsa follow the Barongs and the Rangdas. As the Barong begins to move forward, Marsa gives it a hard push with his body, as if to say, "Get on there, get out of the way." Then, in passing, Marsa treads upon the offerings. Inside the temple court, Marsa has broken away from the men who held him and made a dash up the steep steps leading to the Main Shrine. Anak Agoeng Njoman tries to intercept him and is knocked down. They struggle together on the narrow, railless stair, and, almost to the top, both fall on the steps. Several other men rush up to help. But

Village Strife Played Out in

7:00

they are not supposed to go up there, and as soon as the two are again on their feet the others descend. Anak Agoeng Njoman helps Marsa up. H e says, ' I f you want to make your reverence, do it from below." Marsa answers, 'Ί don't want to. I'm looking for my father and mother." Then the priest, with his arms around Marsa, helps him to the top, where he collapses in the doorway. T h e priest slaps Marsa's back, not too hard ( t o bring him to?). Marsa's arms are around Anak Agoeng Njoman's neck, Marsa seated in the doorway, the priest facing him on the step below. Marsa makes another attempt to get into the shrine. Anak Agoeng Njoman maneuvers around to block the entrance with his own body. He is using force but being at the same time gentle. H e stands there, facing out, with his arms round Marsa's shoulders and Marsa's arms clinging round his waist. T h e n Marsa again collapses on the steps. Neka meanwhile is standing at the foot of the shrine, supported by two men, his head thrown back on the shoulder of one of them, as if quite unconscious. A group of men now come up the flight of steps, lift Marsa, and carry his unresisting form down to the bottom, making a picture like the descent from the cross. They set him down on a mat beside Neka, facing the shrine. His head is still rocking slightly. But he is able to sit upright. Neka is also seated, still with his head thrown back on the man's shoulder. Rawa sits down beside Neka and Anak Agoeng Njoman on the other side of Marsa. Neka is trembling. Anak Agoeng Njoman lifts a lighted brazier, wafts the smoke toward Marsa, and then empties the coals upon the ground. He takes a fresh brazier and places it before Marsa. Marsa takes it up in his hands. H e bends over and puts his face in it—holds this fifteen seconds. He

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raises his head. His face is still but strained. His eyes are closed. After one minute he again rocks his head a little. H e places his hands on the newly lighted brazier. (There is not much fire in i t ) H e calls out, "Priest, perfume, perfume (incense)!" Anak Agoeng Njoman: W e have just put in perfume, you killed it [the fire], what am I to do? Marsa has crunched the coals between his fingers. He keeps his hands on the brazier, then removes them, throwing them to the sides with a restless gesture. People on either side of him take hold of his wrists. Marsa: Priest? Anak Agoeng Njoman: Yes? Marsa: Well, priest, where is the Sweeper? 1 9 Come over here, where are you, come here, and be quiet. Rawa answers to this call, gets up from his place next to Neka, and moves over to sit at Marsa's elbow, a litde behind him, facing him, and very close. 7:08 Now Marsa enacts a scene of groping round over the offerings, counting out and redistributing in the tjanangs the number of coins they contain. Anak Agoeng Njoman laughs goodnaturedly, as if he were humoring a child, and counts for him as he fingers the coins. Those that are left over Marsa casts away. Marsa: That's the way [it must be done when] I who very rarely come down in trance Qnapak) have come. Anak Agoeng Njoman: I can't remember [how it should be]! Marsa picks capriciously at the offerings, asking for this, refusing that His eyes are closed. He pants. Once he bends in the middle, as if the breath went out of him. They continue with the offerings, making libations, springling holy water, "Marsa addresses Rawa by the tide Djoeroe Sapoeh (Sweeper), less complimentary than the title Permas, which we have translated priest, that he uses to address Anak Agoeng Njoman.

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7:10

Gianjar District smoking flowers of various colors over the brazier, and wafting the essence of the offerings toward the shrine. Here Marsa, with eyes closed, holds out the brazier under the leaf-cup which Anak Agoeng Njoman has lifted without smoking it. Same performance, twice repeated. W h i l e they are still busy with the offerings, Anak Agoeng Njoman says: "Now let it be spoken, if there is anything to be said, if your Sweeper is wrong (seiaJi),

let him now be corrected Qsalahang)."

7:16

Marsa's response to this is to reach again among the offerings, saying, "Priest, give me that," and, as a bottle is handed to him, and he spills a libation from it, he continues, "Well, I have finished now [with the ritual]. W h e n it's done give me a present (gagapan [here arak or libation]), for I am going home [going to come out of trance]." T h e y continue, the priest offering a libation before the shrine, Marsa wafting and smoking the offerings over the brazier. He says, "That's done, now give me a libation." As Anak Agoeng Njoman gives it to him, he says, 'Tes, now pour forth your utterance to your subjects." Marsa puts his face in the brazier, then brings the smoke with his hands to his mouth first, to his eyes, to his chest. ( I s this to come out or go further in trance?) Marsa says, "Priest, what were you going to say a moment ago? W h a t are you going to place in my hole?" [ G M interprets this to mean, " W h a t offerings are you going to give to the Barong-hole (place-to-sit of the god)?] Anak Agoeng Njoman: I have already given offerings there, segehan poetih koening ( a set, white and yellow). Marsa: In my hole the priest has already

given segehan poetih koening. To the hole and to the kalas, the priest has already given. W h a t will you give me? How many chickens will you give me? Where shall I be called [in prayer]?

Anak Agoeng Njoman (laughing, mildly): I beg pardon, I am stupid. Marsa: Now Priest, is the one who has come down Qnapak") here to be believed? Because I come rarely [unexpectedly], the Sweeper is disturbed. T h e reason I Banas Poetih [Banaspati, the Barong] descends to Bali is that my father is already old. Now let it be thus, if you can, offer a tjaroe (set of offerings to the demons), only a small one. I already have a Form (pesiloeman, [the Barong]); may I witness my own offerings. I'm not too hard. I rarely come to bear down on my man. Anak Agoeng Njoman: So it is, the God's priest is stupid, he is priest only in name, he knows nothing. [He is apologizing for himself.] Marsa: If you are not priest in fact, why do you climb up and down the shrine? Now, Priest, may you both be priests, and do not be troubled. You have already given tjanangs to my father and mother, haven't you? Is it not given? Have I not already told you, I rarely bear down upon man? If it's so, that's all. What do you want to ask of father? Is there anything? Anak Agoeng Njoman: I beg that your servants, here and in Toeboeh, mav prosper, and that is all. Marsa: Well, if it's like that, if you can't say, haven't I already told you? May I not be too hard, and too cheaply bear down upon man—how much am I worth? Is my worth a penny? I have already given orders to Batoe and to Bok Barak. [Interpreted to imply that the higher the god, the higher the cost of his going forth, as a radja's excursions are costly, whereas his servants may go cheaply and come often.] Marsa (now turning to Rawa, and beginning to call him down): Sweeper, you act stupidly, don't go on like that. Now I am going to speak to you,

Village

Strife

Played

Sweeper. If I should tell you all your faults, they would be many. Now will the Priest speak to the Sweeper? Or shall I tell you? Don't go on being bad [as a spoiled child, momo] if you continue to be bad, don't let me come here. You have many badnesses, and you have not yet been purified (_merastjita). When he begins to speak thus, Anak Agoeng Njoman turns to give a significant look to another priest sitting beside him; he is not laughing any more but looks extremely interested. Rawa (sitting humbly beside Marsa): I beg pardon, I beg for mercy from the Lord God. Marsa: If the Sweeper begs pardon, what is he apologizing for? What is his wrong (peZiJt)? Go on, say it! (While he is in the midst of upbraiding Rawa, Marsa turns again to speak to Anak Agoeng Njoman.) Priest! I have no use for him, still he remains. Anak Agoeng Njoman (taking this rebuke to apply to himself, goodnaturedly) : So be it, let me die. The audience laughs. Marsa continues then to speak of the badness of Rawa. From the back of the group of listeners, Dέwa Ketoet Kelenang calls out, "Little ones, little ones, let us give all honor [to the god]!" Anak Agoeng Njoman: I know nothing. I also am untrained, and I am frightened. Marsa continues about Rawa. He mentions the performance Qtontonan). He says, "Sweeper, you are wrong. Sweeper, be quiet." Anak Agoeng Njoman asks the group if they have any further requests to make of the god. But Marsa has not yet finished with Rawa, he goes on upbraiding him, until Rawa says, "I shouldn't be so bold. Let it be done with." Then Marsa bears down on Rawa, won't let him go:

Out in

7:30

7:32

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177

"The Sweeper has many faults. Let him know his faults. Speak up now, if you know what your fault is." Rawa: The badness (momoan) is . . . taking a woman. [It is a surprise to everyone, that Marsa should have so insisted that it was necessary to state openly and in so many words the cause of the accusation—a procedure most unexpected at a trance session, and altogether out of accordance with Balinese habits of reticence.] A stir passes over the audience, and a man calls out from the back in protest, "Don't speak like that here, if he is wrong, let him go!" But Marsa will not drop it. He says, "He must be purified three times, great is his uncleanness (leteh). T o cut it short, he must this day and for three days have the purification ceremony. Now and in three days the priest [Anak Agoeng Njoman] may officiate. The purification must take place three times. . . . [He mentions the offerings required.] If I should tell all, it would be too much. Well, now, give me my wage [libation]." People in the audience call out, "Go forth now! Go to the upper world! (he loewoer)." Marsa: Where to? Where shall I go? Don't let the pedjati offerings be lacking. He is given a drink of arak. Marsa puts his hands on the brazier, rocks his body. Dέwa Ketoet Kel£nang begins to chant, "Ascend, ascend." Rawa raises himself onto his knees; he is laughing rather sheepishly. Marsa puts his face close over the brazier, lifts his head, looks around him. He has come out of trance, he looks intently and with curiosity at GM and myself, who are seated nearby, and stares at our notebooks, as if he wondered what we were doing there. A few raindrops fall. Marsa starts to get up and go away. Anak Agoeng Njoman pushes him back, saying,

178

Gianjar "Be quiet," in the familiar language, a contrast to the high-flown politeness with which he has been addressing him all the time Marsa was a god. [Note that on account of the difference in their caste, Anak Agoeng Njoman "speaks down" to Marsa in the normal state, and Marsa must "speak up" to him; but when Marsa is in trance the position is reversed: Marsa speaks down to Anak Agoeng Njoman, using the familiar language, as to an inferior.] Now it is Neka's turn. H e has a sudden paroxysm, stretches out his legs before him, crying out in a big voice, 'Ί Batoe, Oh-oh-oh, my subjects!" T h e brazier is before him, he puts his face in it, making a long drawn out moan like a foghorn. H e takes up the burning coals and licks them. He begins to cry. H e stretches out his hands, hooked and grasping, in the gesture which we have learned to associate with his chicken-eating. T h e left hand especially is stiff and twisted. Then he brings his hands together and up to his face, at the same time making a sound in imitation of a chicken, as G M noted it, "kiyek, kiyek, kiyek." T h e crowd laughs and calls out, "Chicken!" G M interpreted this not as a call for a chicken but as the voice of the chick itself which was to be sacrificed, here having taken possession of the body of Neka in trance. Anak Agoeng Njoman sprinkles Marsa with holy water and pours it into his hands for him to drink. T h e n Marsa gets up and goes away.

7:37

Neka is supported by two men. His hands are raised to receive the chick. He holds his right forearm in his left hand, the fingers of the right hand wriggle horribly. He is given the chick. H e holds it out at arm's length, brings it close to him, holds it out again; repeats this three times. He rises onto his knees and turns halfway round, as if showing it to the Rangdas and the Barong which stand

District

7:42

behind him. T h e n he pops it in his mouth. Dέwa Ketoet Kelenang comes up to him and twists the body from the head which Neka holds in his mouth, in the same way as it was done to D£wa Ketoet on December 16. Neka takes coals from the brazier and licks them. H e is given a cup of arak to drink. He says, "Don't be troubled." H e is sprinkled with holy water and comes out of trance. Everyone gets up and hurries to shelter, as the rain is falling. On our way out, Anak Agoeng Njoman comes up to us, very pleased and smiling. H e tells us who the god was who came down in Marsa, that he is the son of Ratoe Gede, the chief god, and his spokesman. Rawa remained with us for the hour following the end of the trance. W e had been invited to share in the feast, and a table had been prepared in the pavilion outside the temple gates. At the table were seated another Western guest, who had not been following the trance activities, and a young man, member of the Pagoetan group, who had been detailed or had taken it upon himself to entertain him. W h e n I joined them, Rawa followed me into the pavilion and carefully drew the cloth curtains, thus separating off the space in which we sat from the outer ledge, now crowded with villagers taking refuge from the rain. Rawa then further entrenched himself by getting behind the stand on which the food was laid out and busying himself with the polishing of plates and the rearrangement of the food in its various containers. He himself served us and poured out our drinks, hovering over us solicitously. During that hour, not a word was spoken concerning the astounding events just transpired. But it seemed that Rawa was once more escaping from contact with his fellow-villagers and finding reassurance

Village Strife Played Out in Trance in friendly relations with white people. It is equally significant that when G M , who, with another "follower" of mine, was given food on the crowded ledge outside the curtain and sat surrounded by

179

the people of Pagoetan during that hour, was asked what the people were saying about the trance and Rawa's discomfiture, he answered, Ί didn't hear anybody mention i t "

ΠΙ

Kintamani District SANGHYANG

DELING,

LITTLE

GIRL TRANCE

DANCERS

The sanghyang cMlitig was the dance of two lit- between which the string for the puppets' dance tle girls, eight to twelve years of age, who would was stretched. Once brought into trance, the go into trance with the aid of two dancing pup- litde girls were able to dance not only "as if they pets on a string. According to tradition, this had been trained," but they were able to perform dance was "made" only when pestilence threat- other feats unknown to the professional dancers; ened the village. When the spirits came down they could climb upon the shoulders of men who into the two little figures, and then into the then move about with the little girls balanced two small girls, they were able to dance as gods, and dancing high in the air; and they could and the whole sacred manifestation was consid- dance on the ground over hot coals without feelered efficacious in warding off the threat of dis- ing the heat. ease. The dance is distinguished from the classiDuring the time that the little girls were in cal legong dance of a pair of small girls by the trance, their eyes would be kept closed. There fact that the dancers were not previously trained was in their movements a relaxed, rather listless in dancing. Because they were imbued with the quality, quite different from the tense postures spirit of the god, they were able to dance all at and acute movements of the approved Ιέgemg once, to go through the classical steps and hand style. They were, and seemed to be, dancing in postures without having studied. Good ligong their sleep. Their mood was likely to be somedancers were given an arduous program of train- what petulant and willful. They sometimes reing, as a rule, for six months or a year before a fused a dancer who offered his shoulders for performance and were not considered skillful them to dance upon. If they did not like the until they had been dancing two to three years. melody which the orchestra began to play, or a Legongs and sanghyangs alike had to stop danc- song which was sung to them, they would stop ing when they reached puberty. and refuse to dance to it. They expressed their The word sanghyang means, as closely as it displeasure in gestures only, for in the trance can be translated, "spirit," and the word doling, they did not speak. At times, when the two "puppet." It was possible to have a performance little dancers wished to communicate with each of the two little girls without the adjunct of the other, they would go up close and whisper in two little figures on the string; and cases are each other's ear, but what they said was not to known of performance of the puppets alone, be heard by the audience. The audience would without the little girls. But most commonly the watch them anxiously, eager not to displease dance of the puppets served as a prelude to the them but to anticipate their wishes. In this asdance of the little girls, who were brought into pect of the performance they were deferred to as trance chiefly by holding the vibrating sticks gods, who were expected to be somewhat over-

Little Girl Trance bearing in their demands and whom it was wise to placate and to please. They were also very much like children—capricious, gay, and difficult by turns. And in this the whole nuclear theme implicit in Balinese religion, "gods are like children, and children are like gods," found expression. The material we have on sanghyang deling comes from the Kintamani area, in the mountainous region of central Bali, chiefly from the small village of Kajoe Kapas, and from Bajoeng Gede. In the latter village Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson found sanghyangs in existence when they went into residence there in 1936, and they were able to follow the group over a period of almost three years. We have a movie record of the performance at Kajoe Kapas, taken in the early 1930s, and there are extensive notes, film, and leica records of a number of performances of the Bajoeng Ged6 sanghyangs in the years 1936 to 1939. There is very little difference in the records of these performances, except that the two children from Bajoeng Ged6, over the two-year period, grow perceptibly a little older. There are minor ritual changes, as, for example, at one time a double pair of puppets were used, strung upon two parallel strings, but for the most part the sequence of ritual, the going into trance, the patterns of the dance, the dancing on the shoulders, and the coming out of trance, were unchanged. The little girls of Bajoeng Gedέ let their hair grow from the short haircut of children to the long flowing hair of preadolescent maidens, they are a little taller, and their faces a bit more mature, but they are still the litde girls they must be to represent the godly spirits, and their dancing is still the listless, relaxed dancing of the entranced. They had not developed, as do the professional dancers, a more finished technique and a heightening of the rigid, formal patterns in their dancing. In spite of this sameness, the people of the village of Bajoeng Ged6 gave to MM and GB a feeling of uncertainty: each time a performance was scheduled it was suggested that perhaps it would not come off, that the little girls would not dance, or perhaps only one of them

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would dance, or only the puppets, or perhaps the gods would not come down and nothing would happen at all. The offerings, they said, were expensive (actually they were very small) and if something should be lacking in the offerings surely the performance would not take place, the gods would not come. However, they always did. Viewing the performance in daylight was also regarded with some suspicion, for the usual thing was for the little girls to dance at night, and all through the night. To ask that they start a little earlier in order that photographs might be taken added an extra factor of uncertainty, but nevertheless, they were many times persuaded to play in daylight, and the film records, especially those taken by GB, turned out remarkably detailed and complete. In our first film records we would often run out of film before the performance ended, and the record of the coming out of trance was therefore lacking. This very important part of the ritual trance was very satisfactorily covered in the 1937 and 1939 films. The only feature of the sanghyang performance which appears in the Kajoe Kapas records and not in those of Bajoeng Ged6 is the dancing on hot coals, a feature which was not a part of the Bajoeng Ged6 sequence. The dancing on the shoulders, too, was done at greater length and with more persistence in Kajoe Kapas. The little girls of Bajoeng Ged6 very often refused a man who offered himself as support, or would climb up and dance, balanced upon his shoulders, for a few moments only, and then leap down again upon the ground to continue their dance. Except for these differences, the performances from the two villages were alike in the sequence of the ritual, the smoking and vibration of the puppets on the string as a prelude, then the going into trance of the two children, the putting on of the headdresses, the dancing and refusing to dance to the proffered musical accompaniment, the keeping the eyes closed, the communication with each other by whispering, the taking off of the headdresses, and the being brought out of trance, the return to the normal state. Since the record of the Bajoeng Gede performances are complete, and the notes of the background

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material on the little girls and of any idiosyn- priestess of the village, went into trance several cratic behavior during the performance and after days later on a ceremonial occasion and gave it are available, I am giving the record of two utterance to the effect that the two clubs were to be merged. This gave the arrangement official such performances as representative. T h e history of the sanghyangs of Bajoeng sanction. The sanghyang club played for a time Gede during MM's and GB's stay there is as fol- thereafter with the two sets of puppets, each lows: An original pair of dancers, Wadi and pair strung on its separate string, and arranged Tjibloek, had stopped dancing together, and parallel with each other. Wadi had taken a younger girl, Misi, as partner. This method of inducting trance dancers was A second club was then formed, Tjibloek taking called in Balinese njawat, literally "to touch," as partner another younger girl of about the age and it was the touch of the entranced which of Misi, called Renoe. The two clubs called was considered to be the powerful agent in themselves the East Club and the West Club bringing another into the trance state. M K CSekaha Kangin and Sekaha KaoeK). Very soon in writing up in Balinese his account of the Wadi reached puberty and was forced to stop occasion on which Renoe chose Misi for her dancing. A performance was arranged of the partner, used the term njawat. H e wrote: "I remaining pair, but the day before it was to take heard it said that the sanghyang desired to place, Tjibloek began to menstruate and was njawat (touch someone). The desire of the therefore retired. T h e club decided that Renoe sanghyang was that Misi should accompany her might dance alone. During the performance, in in dancing. . . . T o the east of the singers then her trance, she approached and shook a little Misi was touched (djawata). At the touching it girl in the crowd, with the expectation that this was like this, her hair was grabbed and her head child might also go into trance and become her shaken. Misi went in trance." partner. But nothing happened. Three weeks M K , himself a Balinese, gave in his phrasing later, Renoe danced again, and this time it was the proper emphasis to the touch of the enMisi, the younger member of the other club, tranced. But because he was a good observer, he who was approached by Renoe and violently did not omit the description of what actually shaken. Misi did go into trance and danced took place, that the transition into the state of with Renoe, and from this time forward Renoe trance was effected with the communication of and Misi were partners. Djero Balian, the old a violent motion.

SANGHYANG (COMPOSITE

PERFORMANCE

ACCOUNT

FROM

THE

N a n g Karma, hlian or head of the club, had stated repeatedly before the show that there would be only deling and no ta-pakan, that is, puppets but no dancers (literally, "supports"). The occasion was the odalan (yearly festival) of the main temple, Poera di Panti. About eight o'clock at night, Nang Karma took down from the shrine in the temple the paraphernalia: the two end sticks with bronze bells attached, a long box covered with cloth, containing the puppets, and a holy water container.

OF J U N E

NOTES

24,

OF GB,

1936 MM,

AND

MK)

T h e brazier was filled with aromatic wood and lighted. The small orchestra had assembled. A small procession was formed, and, with the orchestra playing, the paraphernalia, shaded by parasols of state, was carried to the temple court where the performance was to be given. Since this was the East Club, the mats were spread and the string stretched on the eastern side of the court. The two sticks between which the string was stretched were stood upon two doelangs, a form of offering stand with a pedestal

Little Girl Trance base. Two boys, Moedri and Ngemboet, held the sticks. Nang Karma took his place in the center, before him the two puppets strung on the taut string, the incense brazier, and the necessary offerings. A group of onlookers, composed chiefly of women and small girls, gathered round. These were to be the singers. Nang Karma began to pray, sprinkling the two puppets with holy water and censing them with the incense brazier: "Titiang nawegang matoer sisip ring penembahan titiang ring Kajuselem mangda kenak kajun tjokor Ratu medal ketuntun ring kramasekaha, mangda kajun tjokor Ratu sinarengan raka-rain anak putun Tjokor Ratu ping kalih penembahan titiang Ratu Sakti Dέwa Aju Agung Penjarikan, Dewa Aju Agung Manik Djeriring, Bagus Anom Manik Dalang, medal tjokor Ratu gelis djaga nintjap Tapakan Radja duwen tjokor Ratu, titiang nunas itja lugera ring betara menawi iwang antuk titiang nanginin tjokor Ratu, penembahan titiang, sawirah titiang lintang nambet anggen tjokor Ratu, sampunang tjokor Ratu menggah piduka ring titiang mangda gelis, mangda gelis tjokor Ratu medal apang nenten tjokor Ratu ketjobajan ring pandjak tjokor Ratu sareng sami." (Here he begs the gods' pardon, asks them to come forth, together with their elder brothers and younger brothers and all their children, and, calling them by name, asks them to come quickly and to enter the tapakan [supports] of the gods. He prays that the gods may not be angry with him, their stupid servant.) The two stick bearers agitated their sticks, and to the accompaniment of singing and gong playing the puppets began to dance. Nang Karma leaned over with the brazier and smoked the hands of the two boys holding the sticks. As the vibration of the string began, Nang Karma had taken off his headcloth. The puppets leap up and down on the vibrating string, they advance a little toward each other, and retreat; at times the motion is so intense that they make a complete turn in the air, whirling head over heels and back to position again. The motion of the boys' hands and

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183

arms holding the sticks is a steady tremor. The singing continues, with from time to time a change of verse and tune. After some twenty minutes, the boys holding the sticks are tiring, and their places are taken by two other youths. The dancing of the puppets goes on uninterrupted. Meanwhile a rumor goes through the crowd that one of the little girls, Renoe, is going to dance after all. The costume appeared from somewhere—the gilded headdress, collar, and apron (lamak), the litde green sarong, the scarves. Renoe, standing at one side, was dressed, her small torso tighdy bound from breast to hips with a long band of bright magenta cloth. Around her neck and passing under this corselet to flutter out at the hips went another scarf. The headdress was adorned with fresh marigolds but not yet put on the head of the little dancer. She came and sat down beside the pedestal on which the stick was held, sitting on her heels. MM

Renoe looked about her, fidgeted a little, yawned, wriggled, looked at us who were only about a foot away from her. Tjibloek (the older sanghyang) grasped her firmly from both sides of her hips, and she leaned forward and grasped the stick with both hands.

GB 8:55 P.M. Renoe holds the trembling stick in her hands. It is not perfecdy clear at first how much of the motion of the stick is being done by the man holding it and so moving Renoe, but I think the man gave several irregular movements to the stick and of greater amplitude than its trembling before Renoe started to take chief control of the stick and to jab it against the pedestal in syncopated time to the singing. [A man held the smoking brazier under her nose.] MM She began to sway faster and faster, from side to side, the puppets danced wildly on their string, and she swayed practically as far as her body would go, held

184

Kintamani

all the while by Tjibloek. Then she began to pound the stick up and down on the pedestal. The girls changed their song, and this time it was practically all pounding, up and down, rather than swaying to the side, instead she swayed back and forth. GB analyzed it thus: Renoe takes on a rolling motion from the hips—she is now doing all the moving of the stick—and the dancing of the puppets is therefore at an end, her movements having no relation to the periodicity of the wave motion of the string. The puppets just dangle, while Renoe beats time to the singing, as above. M M Suddenly she fell back, limp; they stood her up, she fell once and then stood with eyes closed. Her headdress was then brought and put on (it had been censed previously), and the gold apron, and she was given a little fan. There was much commotion while the crowd reversed its position, forming a half circle with an open end to the west. She started to dance, stiffly, a poor legong dance, very quick and jerky, and stopping continually and coming over to whisper to someone that she wanted different music, now singing, now gong, now singing. She seemed thoroughly dissatisfied. Then she came and started pulling at Tjibloek's clothes trying to get her to dance. Tjibloek got up and ran around to the back on the eastern side (she had been to the north). But Renoe followed her there and, working through the crowd, again grabbed at her. Tjibloek ran away to the temple gate, Renoe followed her. Nang Karma and many others called out to come back, that the other girl could not dance tonight. Finally Men Polih went after her, knelt down, talked to her quietly, and led her back to the front of the group to the north, and she danced again. But she was cross and dissatisfied still,

District continually stopping and whispering that she wanted company. Nang Karma kept calling out to her that in fifteen days they would dance together but not now, so to finish dancing now. But she was definitely contrasuggestible and now began raising her feet forward as she walked, as a sign that she wanted to be carried (to dance on someone's shoulders). Nang Madera stepped forward and knelt, and she got on his shoulders. He held one hand for a minute and then held her foot. As he walked about, he let go of her foot for a minute, and she slapped him in the head with her fan to hold onto it again. She balanced well and swayed somewhat, but not a tremendous amount. The chief effect is given by the twisty line which the man and child present in profile, in which she takes up the dancer's buttocks-extended stance, upon his different stance, and so appears top-heavy. She clapped her hands to get down almost at once. Then more short bits of dancing and whispering, and signaling with her fan toward the south where her partner has gone.

MM

[She continued in this fashion, being cajoled by the onlookers, refusing and finally accepting to dance upon the shoulders proffered to her.] Then she claps her hands and demands to get down. Now, in a worse temper than ever, she began to grab at a small girl, Raksi, pulling her hair, swishing her back and forth with the same rhythm as her own going into trance, demanding by signs that she dance with her. T h e child did not cry out, although whenever the sanghyang let up, she tried to crawl a little further into Ringson's lap (a cousin, a grown woman). Ringson held her from Renoe and laughed heartily as did everyone else, while Nang Karma and others admonished her. Finally she turned to pointing south again and demanded another shoulder. Ngemboet offered, but

Little Girl Trance she rejected him, a n d he said indignantly, "I'd do it better than the others!" A p a u s e of confusion and flinging herself about, a litde dancing, then she accepted N g e m b o e t H e held both her ankles a n d danced with her. T h e other m a n had only walked. S h e flung her f a n down at one point and, w h e n she was let down, went over a n d got it from the people who had picked it u p . T h e y kept imploring her to finish. MK Very often the members of the club called out: "Inggih samfoen wengi, moenggah sampoen." ( Y e s indeed, it's already night, go h o m e please.) GB [Finally it w a s k n o w n that it was over.] 9 : 5 5 P.M. T h e r e w a s a s u d d e n break from the dancing to bring her out of trance. T h e group reformed around the mats. ( T h e p u p p e t s h a d been put a w a y . ) H o l y water was sprinkled on Renoe's feet. S h e goes through a series of repeating motions—clapping h a n d s together, interlocking fingers, a n d so placing h a n d s with fingers interlocked a n d palms separated on the brazier, with the open p a l m s to the brazier. T h e n separating hands, clapping, clasping, a n d so forth, repeating over a n d over again. 1 0 : 0 1 P.M. Sanghyang sitting in the lap of girl starts a rolling motion from the hips. S h e scratches her hair. S h e opens her e y e s — rather slow a n d dazed, eyes watering a little, probably from the smoke of the brazier. N o other symptoms. MM S h e was . . . rocking a n d twisting f r o m side to side for a long time, finally dem a n d e d holy water, and came out. S h e looked quite normal at once, her headdress was taken off a n d her breast plate; everybody p a i d attention to it and none to her. S h e b e g a n matter of f a c d y to undress herself. JB

T h i s performance h a d lasted a little over two hours, one hour of preliminary dance by the puppets, a n d singing, prayers, a n d gamelan accompaniment to bring the

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little girl to a readiness to go into trance, and an hour a n d five minutes that the child played in trance. M M ' s comment was as follows: " T h e crowd was gay, pleasantly tickled by the b a d temper a n d contrasuggestibility of the sanghyang, a m u s e d by telling her that she couldn't do things and at the same time calling her Ratoe ( Y o u r H i g h n e s s ) . T h e whole thing h a d a double kick, the child, usually kept in her place, was allowed dominance, given power a n d sanctity, but then the crowd, through N a n g K a r m a , was able to deny her what she wanted. T h e laughter was gay and light, nonexplosive a n d unhectic. N o one minded chatterings, interruptions, a n d so forth. N o one was nervous or tense. T h e r e w a s no fussing about people b e i n g higher than she was, or to the north ( k a d j a ) of her, and so forth. " T h e puppets are a perfect figure of speech for the sanghyang, pulled on a musical string in jerks. After I h a d said this to G B , he said, that's what Geoffrey Gorer says . . . referring to legong: T h e little girls danced in absolute unison, moving together like marionettes held by the s a m e wire, following every change of rhythm a n d emotion a n d speed in the music, as though the music were the wire they moved o n . ' 1 " A n d h e did not see the sanghyang boengboeng, a n d does not mention it. It is a good e x a m p l e of the double distilling that this culture does all the time, first the idea of trance, a n d then a ritual form which is symbolic of the idea of trance. It is necessary of course to remember the presence of the marionettes, here, as providing the material for the symbolism . . . " T h i s child sanghyang business has some of the same function as child dancing in S a m o a , but with considerably more kick in it. It also raises the whole problem of what there is in the Balinese character which permits so m u c h use of single surrogates for g r o u p emotions, in which spectatorship is satisfying. In S a m o a each individual gets a release, here it must all b e d o n e through a f e w selected individuals." 1

Geoffrey Gorer, Bali and Angkor; Looking

(London, 1936), p. 81.

at Life

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Kintamani

District

SANGHYANG P E R F O R M A N C E ( F R O M N O T E S OF M M , M I , C I N E F I L M

This was the performance which was ordered by MM and GB in order that they might see the West Club dance, since Tjibloek, the elder of the two girls, appeared to be on the verge of puberty. They had asked that the performance begin in the early afternoon because they wanted to photograph it. The day before it was to take place Tjibloek began to menstruate. The show was held up, too, for other reasons: the orchestra had been lent out, and it was necessary to borrow another one; the offerings were not right; the crowd necessary for the singing was slow to assemble. Once M M and GB went off in a huff, left the temple, and went home, for it seemed that the performance would never take place. MM

3:52 4:00

4:05 4:10 4:11 4:13 4:15

About half an hour later I Lasia came to say that both Renoe and Tjibloek were there. . . . W e went back, to find Renoe inside looking very sulky and cross, and Tjibloek looking over the temple wall, and were told that she could not enter the temple because she was menstruating, but that Renoe would dance. So we started in. P.M. They started to dress Renoe. She was trembling violently. Nang Karma starts praying. Singing begins. Each stickholder puts his hands on the stick, Nang Saboeh to the east, I Moedri to the west. Cine shots of Renoe dressing and trembling. Renoe brought up to the dAings (puppets). She puts her hands on the stick. Renoe begins to sway. Nang Karma sprinkles her. She starts swaying with head free and begins stamping with the stick. Shift to a more stamping rhythm, back to swaying, then stamping again, swaying.

OF J U L Y

#20,

#21

13,

1936

OF GB, L E I C A 2 A ,

GB)

JB The film of this part shows Renoe, her body rounded and her head bent toward the pedestal, her arms only agitated at first by the vibration of the stick. Soon the vibration extends to her head, which seems to shake. Then, as she goes further into trance, and the swaying from side to side increases in violence, she loosens up so that her head rolls on her neck, and the shaking motion is discontinued. This is the moment which MM noted as "swaying with head free." The film shows her swaying several times to the left, then, with a compensatory swing, far over to the right, and again to the right, before she achieves the full abandoned fling of her body all the way from one side to the other. As she begins the thumping motion on the pedestal, she leans forward, toward it, and her head goes forward loosely as she pounds. Again she goes into the side-to-side motion, so strongly carried away that the girl behind her, who is supporting her under the armpits, is carried from side to side too in the swaying motion. As Renoe leans toward the pedestal, thumping, her head rolls forward with the forward motion, down, almost on her arm, back, down, and down again. The pedestal rocks. M M noted: 4:16 Stamping again. Another song. So violent she missed the pedestal. 4:18 Renoe falls back, OUT. JB The film shows her fallen back against the attendant, quite limp. The attendant shifts her position, lifting her a litde on her lap, to which Renoe responds, or fails to respond, with rag-doll flexibility. Her head rolls forward. Then it lolls back against the attendant's shoulder. MM noted: 4:20 Renoe's head is swaying. Her headdress is put on. She leans back. 4:22 Singing. She starts to sway. She is stood

Little

Girl Trance

up, picked up, carried on shoulder to our sanggah (household shrine). JB The leica series shows the putting on of the headdress. Renoe is leaning back as they bind the cloth around her head, and, as they adjust the headdress, her head is still lolling. One arm, over the shoulder of an assistant, dangles limply. Further shots with the cine camera show her as she is lifted, seated on the shoulder of the man who is to carry her, still limp. He holds her legs as he rises from the crouching position and walks away, but her arms dangle loosely, she does not hold on to him, and even her feet hang down without any tension in them. MM noted: 4:25 She begins to dance in our sanggah. 4:30 Change of step. She is dancing better than I have ever seen her, but MK thinks it is just because of the presence of the gamelan (orchestra).

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kotds. I Sadia came up bringing the fans. One fan was given to Renoe. I Pajoe adjusted her headdress. She was sung to, then, the song "sampar wanten" [meaning unknown], and she was not pleased by it. Then there was the song "άέχνα ajoe," still she was not pleased. Now she was played to by the gamelan. She wanted it. After the gamelan played, again "άένσα ajoe" was sung. Again it was not wanted. Then the singers sang the song "menjerigsdg" (side step). The sanghyang did njeregsdg (side step). After that she did not want to perform. Nang Karma called out, "Mesolah, Ratoe, apang tiang nenten doekaina ring 1 Toean" (Perform, Your Highness, that I may not be blamed by Tuan). MM 4:45 4:47

JB The film shows her flinging her arms downward and back to alternate sides in a motion like the one the Balinese call tajoengan, "as when someone is walking and swinging his arms," yet she is standing in place. She twists her head, turns her body from side to side, as if dissatisfied. Then she raises her arms in the side-to-side motions, lifting them high over her head (an unusual gesture in Bali) and flinging out the ends of the scarf which hang from her hips with grace and abandon. As she goes into the side step, njer6gs6g, her litde feet, now extremely active, seem to race across the dance space. Someone has given her her fan, which she was without in the early moments of the dance and which, perhaps, she was gesturing for as she flung her arms about.

4:50

MK noted at this time: When we reached Tuan's sanggah, the sanghyang was sung to, and the song was the one which contains "kotes-kotes" (side bend and down flung arms). The sanghyang did kotes-

5:01

MK

MM

5:07

Renoe demurs again and is asked if she would like to go back to the temple. She would. We approve. Back to the temple. Crowd shout warning as she is carried through the gate. It is said that she wants Tjibloek. Crowd is enjoying this impersonal bullying. Renoe whispers. Everyone laughs. Whispers again. I heard it said that the sanghyang wanted to touch (to bring in trance). The women and girls ran away. It was the sanghyang's desire that Misi should dance with her. Renoe stamps in temper. Whispers again. I Misi was lifted (?) over the wall and came down the east side of the crowd. Renoe fell upon her and shook her furiously, nearly pulling her head off. Misi went into trance almost immediately, went limp, and was carried over and dressed hastily, Renoe standing with eyes closed, in a position of petulance, occasionally stamping and waving her fan. Misi's eyes are twitching. Crowd is growing. Djero Balian [old priestess, who is also a trance spokesman of the gods] comes in. Both litde girls begin to dance. Misi dances backward, trips over a child and

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falls limp. Ngemboet goes over and redresses her. GB remarks "Misi believes in it." Renoe stands with eyes closed while Misi is dressed. After headdress is put back on her head, holy water is brought, and it is sprinkled. 5:10 Misi's head lollops back while the headdress is sprinkled. 5:12 Dancing again. Crowd of girls keeps shrinking back from the dancers. Renoe whispers to Misi. 5:14 Music changes to gamelan and flute. 5:15 Dancers stop. Begin again. Renoe is dancing with eyes a little open, Misi as if her eyes were closed and she conscious. 5:17 Change to singing. A baby, I Ngenoe (approximately nineteen months) on the south side with his mother is waving his hands and imitating the dancers. [The baby is the small brother of Misi.] 5:19 Change of song. Renoe tells Misi to demur. Whispers. Fascinated, the baby Ngenoe dances out into the center, going up to Renoe, who doesn't see him and knocks him down. He is picked up wailing by Wadi [older trance dancer] and returned to his mother. Crowd shouted warnings when he fell. Renoe takes no notice. Dancing again. 5:21 Renoe in tantrum. I Lasia offers his shoulder, bends his knees several times, but is not accepted. Renoe goes over to a group of girls and sits on a girl's shoulder. She points and demands to be taken up. The girls laugh hard. I Lasia kneels again. She still refuses him. Misi falls backward on the girls. She doesn't want to be carried. Men Polih goes to her, persuades her to dance, to stand up. She wants her to dance on shoulders. Misi refuses. Men Polih demands. Misi simply flops over backward. Men Polih is angry at the refusal. Ngemboet offers himself. He is refused. 5:25 Misi still refusing to dance on shoulders.

District

5:27

5:31

5:32 5:35

She stands up near the girls and dances in place, as if she would have a safe place to fall if necessary. Renoe is dancing more and more violently and boisterously, seated on the girl's shoulder. Renoe demands that Misi get up on a girl's shoulder. Nang Karma asks why Renoe is so wild and is told she wants to be carried by I Lameg and I Lameg refuses. Ngemboet offers to carry her. He is refused. I Lasia lifts her finally, dragging at her ankles. Renoe drops her fan. Misi goes limp, in the face of attempts to make her dance on shoulders. Men Polih in exasperation lifts her up in her arms and dances with her. Renoe gets down. Renoe goes and flops backward on the arms of a group of girls. Wadi is ordered to lift her up and does. Wadi dances with her in her arms. Renoe is really too heavy for her, and she has to shift her constandy. I Lasia offers to take her from Wadi. Renoe refuses. Renoe flops about wildly in Wadi's arms. Misi is dancing, stiff and formal, in Men Polih's arms. Men Polih puts Misi down. Renoe gets down. Renoe goes and climbs on I Lasia's shoulders, and points with fan at Misi. Nang Ngetis offers to Misi and is accepted. Both are up. Misi is now dancing very well on shoulders. The baby, I Ngenoe, follows them out again, the same tranced look on his face. Men Soeni grabs him back crossly. Change in music, and both change their style of dancing. Misi demands to be let down and falls flat just as he kneels. Men Polih tries to

Little Girl Trance

MK MM

stand her up again, but she merely falls about limply. [MK noted that after Misi's fall, I Lasia sprinkled her with holy water.] Renoe goes on dancing. Misi finally stands upright alone. Renoe goes over and whispers to her. Men Polih says it is already night, to stop

Cmoenggah, go up, go home).

Renoe grabs Misi tight around the neck and whispers. 5:37 Men Polih picks up Misi announcing that the god wishes to ascend. Renoe refuses. I Lasia kneels and asks her if she wants his shoulders. Singing starts up and Misi and Renoe dance. Pause. Gatnelan orchestra starts. Renoe dances and then stops, and I Lasia grabs her and bears her off to be brought out of trance, struggling. Men Polih grabs Misi who goes quietly. 5:43 Taking them out of trance begins. Nang Karma starts to pray. Singing starts. Misi begins to clap at once. Her clapping is never quite in time and has a desperate spasmodic quality about it. Neither Misi nor Renoe is very limp. Now both clap at once. 5:45 Both are swaying, and Misi keeps bumping into Renoe. 5:47 Their headdresses (taken off) are dipped in holy water. The brazier is taken away (to be replenished). They are sprinkled with holy water. Intoning. Renoe lies back. Misi still clapping. 5:48 Fresh fire brought. Misi puts her hands in the brazier. Renoe lies back. 5:50 Renoe begins to clap, and to sway. She holds her right hand on the fire. Both girls' hands in the flames. Renoe lies back. Misi claps. Renoe sways. 5:52 Misi comes out of trance, putting both hands up to her face, palms in (faceclearing). Renoe still lies back. She leans back and

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grabs at people back of her. They stand her up, but she falls back. She is back on the assistant's lap. Singing,

of the men 5:53 5:55

(me)ddoeng).

Her hands in the fire again. Purposeful hands on the fire. She rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands (face-clearing). Out of trance. She turns sideways, and attends to her clothes.

JB This performance was of particular interest because of the induction of Misi into trance and as the partner of Renoe. The method of induction, described to us earlier as njawat, the touch of the entranced, was on this occasion illustrated, and it was possible to observe the vigorous shaking which Renoe gave Misi at this "touch." It is also a good illustration of the extreme of pettishness and capriciousness to which the little sanghyang dancers go in the trance state. This was an occasion when everyone was out of sorts, the older dancer couldn't dance, the gamelan orchestra was lent out, the offerings weren't right, and the Tuans, nervous about the failing light, threatened to cancel the whole show. When Renoe came in, the club members spoke of fining her 100 cash if she didn't dance. It is no wonder that the little girls exhibited on this occasion more contrasuggestibility and were more intractable and demanding in their trance roles than was their wont Yet this very capriciousness is an acknowledged characteristic of their role: it is expected of them and is one of the features of the performance which the audience finds most diverting. In this particular instance their unruliness was carried to an extreme, so that the participating audience all but lost their patience with them. It is therefore fortunate that for this occasion we have such a great deal of background material and such meticulous notes. The photographic record is good so far as it goes, but it breaks off halfway through the performance, for by that time the light was gone. MM's final comment was: "Renoe arrived to find herself threatened by

190

Kintamani

a fine of 100 kApbtgs, but this was remitted as a bribe to get her to dance. All the time she was dressing she was trembling violendy, but this trembling disappeared when she started to dance. Note that she had been told she couldn't have

ORDERED (FROM

THE

CINE

FILM

Misi, so demanding Misi was of a piece with demanding Tjibloek. Renoe gives the impression of enjoying the whole show, but Misi of doing it because it should be done, jerkily, convulsively, grimly."

PERFORMANCE,

RECORD

BY

CB; NOTES

At this time the club was playing with the two sets of puppets, on two strings, and the two litde girls Misi and Renoe as partners. The puppets had been so much used that they were on the point of falling apart, and the club had begun to plan to make new ones. The club assembled and prepared to begin at half past two in the afternoon, for the sake of the photography. JB 2:30 P.M. The mats are spread. Nang Karma, the priest, takes his place in the center between the two sets of pedestals and begins to pray. The two sets of puppets are taken out of their box and, held in the hands of Lasia, are smoked by Nang Karma with the incense brazier. There is a pause, while Nang Karma sends someone off to fetch something lacking in the offerings. At last everything is ready. Nang Karma sits with the offerings, the holy water container, and the incense brazier before him. The helpers who are to hold the sticks arrange 2:50 the two sets of puppets on their strings before him, where he can reach each pair. He sprinkles them, and censes them, and begins again to pray. The little girls, Misi and Renoe, come into the temple. They have been dressing in a nearby house, and are still arranging their clothing as they stand by the two strings of puppets. They look quite unconcerned. 2:54

District

The film shows Nang Karma praying, then (as the singing began) the two puppets on the western string began to

2:55 MK

2:56

2:58

JB

MM

3:01

JB

MAY

26,

BY

MM

1937 AND M K ;

LEICAS

BY

GB)

dance. As MK put it, "The delings (puppets) on the west went in trance (paling [unconscious, having lost the sense of direction]). Wadi [one of the helpers holding the stick] was changed off with Dampoek, holding the stick. As soon as the change was made, then the delings were willing to go in trance. While Wadi was still holding the puppets the eastern ones did not want to go in, the western ones were already in trance. At 2:58 the puppets on the eastern side began to go in trance, and Tuan photographed them." The headdress of one of the puppets to the west came loose, and, as the two strings danced wildly up and down, Nang Karma reached over to adjust it. For a time the two stick holders of the string which he was arranging continued their motion. MM noted: "Nang Karma holds the doll's neck and the patokans (sticks) are still shaken. This in illustration of or compliance with the belief that the dolls dance of themselves. "Then he says to stop the ones which keep bumping the fixing. This is out of keeping with the belief." The film shows Nang Karma reaching over to adjust the puppet, reaching across the other dancing pair. After a time the two stick holders of the pair which is being arranged stop their motion, but the other pair, which were late to "go in," are still wildly dancing. Then both pairs come to a stop.

Little Girl Trance 3:05

3:10

3:11

3:13

3:15 3:18

At last the puppets are fixed, and they begin to dance again, more ecstatically than before. The singing accompanies them. Then Renoe and Misi take their places, each kneeling beside a pedestal (one of each string of puppets). They are supported from behind, each by one of the older girls. Nang Karma prays toward them, sprinkles, offers them the brazier over which their hands are smoked. Renoe takes hold of the stick; then, almost at once Misi places her hands on her stick. The film shows the stick vibrating strongly, and the motion at first seems to be communicated only to Misi's arms. Her body is not yet involved. Then (thirty seconds later, according to MM's notes) she begins to sway, the motion of her body a swing from side to side, involving all of her upper body, head and neck, though she is still held tightly at the waist by the girl behind her. She sways wildly from side to side, then more slowly, then goes wilder again. After ninety seconds, she leans forward and begins to thump on the pedestal with the stick, and here for the first time appears the slow somnambulistic type of motion. As she begins the thumping motion, the boy holding the top of the stick ceases his vibration. He lets her take it. He holds it in relaxed fashion, his body leaning with hers as she slowly and rhythmically lifts it and pounds the pedestal. Renoe, on her side, had begun to sway in the same manner, from side to side and then to stamp with the stick. Two and one half minutes after taking hold of the stick, Misi fell back limp against her attendant. Renoe followed seventyfive seconds later, or four and one quarter minutes after placing her hands on the stick. The puppets are taken down. Renoe is lying back limp in Wadi's arms. The girls are lifted up and their head-

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191

dresses put on. They begin to dance. The gamelan plays a litde. Misi dances a little and stops. The gamelan stops. She has not accepted the piece they are playing. 3:20 The gamelan plays again. Misi jerks into position. Renoe is limp. Misi is standing, hand on hip. 3:26 Singing begins. 3:27 Misi stands. Renoe dances. After thirty seconds, Misi begins to dance. They dance, as the film shows, beginning with a figure which resembles a movement of the legong dance called kotes-kotes. The dancer bends far over to the side, bringing her head almost to the level of the ground, then reverses, bringing her torso up through the reverse arc and down again to the other side, and repeat. She accompanies the movement of the body with arm and hand movements which begin at the top of the arc, when the torso is passing through the erect position. The hand is rotated outward, and the arm slowly extended outward and backward in a gesture as if pushing away. This motion, in the legong dance, is performed with the arm opposite the side toward which the figure is bending. The arm on the same side is flexed and the hand bent back at the wrist, palm inward. As she rises, the arm on the same side follows the motion of the body toward the center; and again, as she passes through the erect position, the hand flicks back to the outward rotated position and the arm (now on the opposite side of the way the body is bending) does the slow outward and backward extension. The little girls in trance execute this motion in a different way from the trained dancers, they seem to fling the arm on the same side as the body bend in an outward and backward motion which accompanies the body motion rather than opposes it. The arm on the opposite side is often left dangling,

192

Kintaniani as if forgotten, on the downward bend, and rises again with the inward motion on the upward arc. The sanghyangs do two or three bends, then break the series with incomplete bends from one side to the other, their heads swinging rather loosely, and continue the rotating motions of the arms. The position of the hand holding the fan in the legong figure is with the arm extended, turned backward, the fan open and spread along the surface of the inner arm which is itself everted. T h e little sanghyangs often do not complete this eversion but hold the fan toward them even in the extended position. T h e looseness in the execution of this highly patterned figure of the dance gives it a rather disorganized quality which is accentuated by the continual stoppings and startings characteristic of their dance in the trance. An augmented flexibility is also probably characteristic of this trance state, so that often the motions which in the legong seem to us stylized, rigidly controlled, and voulu—as the extension and outward rotation of the opposite arm in the side bend—are in the sanghyang trance executed with a mimimum of this type of control. The control which they do manifest, especially in the feats of balance when they dance upon men's shoulders, is of a different order and is probably from a different neurological level.

MM's notes of the interrupted dancing of the sanghyangs continue: 3:28

3:31 3:32

JB

Misi stands. Renoe takes a flower out and hands it to Tamboen. Misi stands. Renoe stands. Singing stops. Gamelan begins. Misi falls back into the circle. She is stood up again. Much laughter from the group who stand her up. T h e film shows Misi doing the sliding

District step to the side (njeregseg) and falling sideways into the crowd. As they lift her she is limp, and her body turns face downward as a woman takes hold of her under the arms to lift her. Her feet are extending out into the open space beyond the onlookers and do not react at first; they are spread sideways in her prone position. The woman lifts her and puts her on her feet. As she is lifted, her head rolls back on her neck, her whole body seems flexible. She stands, quite still, while the woman adjusts her clothing and settles her headdress straight upon her head. MM 3:33 JB

T h e dancing changed to njerigseg. [This is a side step in which the dancer crosses the whole dancing space taking small steps to the side, while the arms move in the direction in which the dancer moves. T h e arm on the side toward which she is going is flexed and everted, the other extended and everted, and both together describe a curve in this direction. At the end of the movement, the dancer reverses her direction, the palms flick quickly around to face the direction in which she moves, and the arms once more describe the curve. The sanghyang dancers go to the side with a step which M M describes in her notes as a "slide-hop," and the arms execute several gyrations toward and away from the body during the course of one movement to the side. A Balinese from another area viewing the film said, "That is not njeregseg but antjog-antjog." However, the people of Bajoeng Gede called this movement to the side njeregseg, and M K used this term and its derivatives in his report. It is a feature of the legong dance that the small girls who dance in a pair execute their movements in perfect unison, so that in this step both move together to the side and, according to the phrasing of the music, reverse the direction at exactly the same moment. Characteristically

Little Girl Trance the sanghyang dancers are not together, they cross the dance space at odd angles to each other, and the reversals of their arm movements do not coincide. This lack of unison, as much as the frequent stopping and starting, gives to the dance of the pair an aspect of disorganization. It must be remembered that their eyes are closed throughout, so that any order they achieve is dependent solely upon their like response to the music. It is therefore of interest that the two little sanghyangs do, as a rule, execute the same type of movements at the same time, and, though they are not together, they are often doing the same thing.] MM 3:35 3:37 JB

The two sanghyangs bump smack into each other. Pause. Change to gamelan music. Singing. Dancers bending. Misi dancing differently from Renoe. The film shows the two girls doing the kotes-hotes figure described above, bending far over first to one side, then to the other, while they stand in place. Renoe sweep« with her fan to one side, then as she rises to the top of the curve she bends farther and farther over backward, until at last she goes into a bend backward, her body a complete arc. Misi at this time is doing the bending figure to the side more nearly as it is customarily done, if anything, leaning a little farther forward. Then Misi does the back bend too and with extreme sup pleness. The figure which they came to execute is called ngelajak, the body bent over backward in an arc like a drawn bow. It, too, is a well-known figure from the legong dance. At times sanghyang dancers execute this figure while dancing on the shoulders of the men who carry them (a feat unknown to legong dancers), and this ability perhaps more than any other illustrates the extreme of delicate balance of which they are cap able in the trance state.

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MM 3:38

Lasia offers himself [for one of the girls to dance on his shoulders]. He is refused. The gamelan plays. Quick dancing. (They waggle their heads from side to side, and their hips, in a motion called engot-ewgot.) 3:40 Pause. Singing, Renoe dancing. Misi standing. Gamelan plays again. Renoe whispers to Wadi [an older girl, former trance dancer]. They continue the dance, swaying. 3:42 Misi gets up on Lasia's shoulders. JB The film shows her, as she is lifted high in the air standing on the man's shoulders, take a position with bent knees for a moment, until she has her balance, and, as he moves forward, she begins the sideways and forward bends, sweeping her arms and the hand holding the fan from the center of the body down to the side, as before. Lasia stands while she executes this motion, counterbalancing her movements with slight adjustments of his own posture. Then he moves forward again. She dances chiefly with her head and arms, moving her head rhythmically from side to side (ewgotengot), fluttering her fan, and lifting the little scarf which hangs from her hips, flinging it outward and back. MM 3:45

3:47 3:48

Misi gets down. Lasia offers to Renoe. Renoe accepts him. Misi gets up on the shoulders of Nang Madera. Misi nearly falls. Misi gets down. Renoe still up. She claps and throws down her fan (as a sign that she wants to get down). Renoe down. Lasia goes out into the center and gives her her fan. Shouts and confusion, a Barong troupe is outside the temple. Half the group get up and rush out. Neither dancer turns a hair, they just keep on dancing.

194 3:50 3:54 3:55 3:56 JB

Kintamani District Misi falls into the crowd. Renoe falls into the crowd. They are picked up. Pause. Renoe claps, wants to moenggah [literally, go up, or come out of trance]. Misi doesn't want (to moenggaK). Misi wants to moenggah. She is carried over. The film shows the two little girls seated on the laps of two women, their feet stretched out straight before them. Before them are the offerings and the brazier of incense. They are being undressed, their headdresses are off, and their stiff golden panels. Renoe's head rolls back, then lolls forward. Misi sits quiet, straight. The eyes of both are closed. Renoe sways a little to one side. As the attendant shifts Misi on her lap, Misi's body responds with a willowy, flexible motion. Nang Karma sprinkles them with holy water. He prays. He lifts the incense brazier and holds it before them. Renoe is swaying from side to side. Then she gives a couple of sulky jerks, jabbing her left elbow in the direction of Misi, who sits beside her but does not respond. As Nang Karma holds out the incense brazier before her, the attendant holding Misi takes her two arms, as one would those of a small child, and holds her hands for a moment in the smoke of the brazier. This is to initiate the motion with which they will come out of trance. But Misi simply allows her hands to be placed over the brazier; she does not participate in the motion. Then she begins to sway a little too, from side to side. As she sways, her head rolls loosely on her neck, her head follows the motion of the torso, which seems to originate from the center of her body, perhaps from her pelvis. Renoe's swaying is at this time more pronounced, faster and more violent, but with more rigidity than Misi's; her upper body seems to move more all of a piece.

As they continue their swaying, they roll a litde forward toward the smoking brazier. Misi's expression is a litde drawn and pained, like that of a tired child. Yet the writhing motion they are making suggests an agony or an anguish in its intensity—though on Renoe's face there is no expression at all. M M gives the time in seconds from the beginning of the smoking: 3:59

05"

58" 60"

110" 124"

142"-144" 180"

260"

310"

JB

Smoked. Renoe jiggles shoulders and fusses. Misi sitting forward. Renoe begins to sway. Misi slightly. Misi swaying from side to side, wildly. [Puts] hands on fire. Clapping. Stopped. Misi swaying from side to side wildly. [Puts] hands on fire. Clasping-opening. Cine. . . . Misi, hands on fire. Renoe makes a mess of the brazier, scatters the ashes. Both come to, together. Renoe dresses at once. Misi stares for 4", then starts to dress. ( 5 ' 10") from the beginning of smoking.

In the film record the two little girls are swaying, at first in opposite directions, away from and toward each other; then, after a few swings, they come into unison, Misi seeming to adjust her swing to Renoe's. Misi pulls her left arm up to a hand-on-hip position, characteristic of her. Misi claps, extends her hands over the brazier, interlaces the fingers, and lifts the hands again toward her, opening

Little

Girl Trance

them to bring them into position for the second clap. Before she has executed the clapping and extension of the hands a second time, Renoe begins to clap. But Renoe is reluctant, she claps only twice, rather slowly, as if not yet ready, and then goes on with the swaying motion. Misi continues the series of claps, six or seven times in rapid succession, at times drawing her hands in an inward curve toward her and up with the fingers still interlaced, like someone doing a cat'scradle. Then she throws herself into a violent swing from side to side, all the way over, almost into Renoe's lap, and again far to the other side. She interrupts this motion with a single clap (Renoe also has begun to clap again), then sways again with still more violence from side to side, a dozen times. Renoe is still intermittently swaying too and at one point flings one arm into Misi's lap. The attendant holding Renoe shifts her position to the side, lifting Renoe a few inches away from Misi. The two little girls are in the new position seated more at angles to each other. Renoe begins a series of very rapid clapping and clasping movements, stretching her hands straight out to the fire and lifting them in the open position as high as her head. There is a build-up in the sequence of motions; she goes faster and faster (fifteen full clapping and extend-

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ing movements in as many seconds) while Misi's tempo is in strong contrast, as if in slow motion, approximately one third as fast. She lifts her hands too as high as her head, with a slow twirling motion, holding them poised at the top of the swing, wide apart, before the clap. As Renoe's fevered clapping and reaching touches a climax she scatters the incense from the brazier. Nang Karma, still holding the brazier before them, picks up the scattered embers and replaces them on the brazier. Then Misi lifts her palms to her face, rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes, and comes out of trance. This is the characteristic faceclearing gesture common to hypnotic subjects. Renoe follows in a split second, doing the face-clearing gesture likewise with the heels of the hands to the eyes, the fingers extended up over the forehead in a manner suggesting relaxation rather than tension. They open their eyes and draw their feet up under them, adjusting their legs toward the normal sitting position with the two legs under them and to the side. Renoe has begun to undress herself. Misi draws herself up on her heels for a moment. Then she turns her body toward her attendant, rising to a kneeling position, and turns her attention to the matter of undressing. They are, as the film shows, almost immediately in a state of normal consciousness.

SANGHYANG D£LING SONGS This is perhaps a good place to discuss the songs which accompany the sanghyang performance. In practice it was impossible for us to take down the whole text during the performance, but MK would frequently note: ' T h e song had something in it about giving a flower, and the sanghyang gave a flower" (see p. 192, May 26, 1937, performance, 3:28 p.m.); or "the

song mentioned njeregseg, and the sanghyangs began to [do the step called] njeregseg." One of the prettiest examples of this type of suggestion is when the singers sing, "leap like a deer," and the little girls, still doing the patterned movements of the legong style, manage to leap in a manner expressive of the deer. The songs are, like those of the Selat sanghyangs, not easily

Kintamani District

196

translatable, since many of the syllables make only rhythmic and onomatopoeic sense. Here are the texts of a few of them which Mad£ Kal£r ( M K ) took down in more leisurely moments after a performance. I Koekoes goenoeng, koekoes aroem, kesar-kesir, Sanghyang Doling kidang dongkelang, likak-likoek, ngeloeng titi, ngeloeng tanggeloek, delimanl bet£n temen, ngeres toendoen ngeres pipi, medimani ngangsan demen, kebijar-kebijoer, gending moeroek kad£watan, meriki tedoen ngelelinti, lilit linting mengelingling, bangkiang6 ramping, djaring goeling ngelod kanginang tepoek m&oe toempang siang olas, ditoe djalan Joe Dedari memaret, I Loeh Tjantel ngatoer tjanang g6nten meboeah tjanggoeri, njelang goenting kesereng kangin, patjang napi dani njelang goenting, patjang angg&n mengoenting ikoet tjapoeng, tjapoeng napi kegoenting dan£, tjapoeng Mas pelalianan Joe E)edari, boeka boelan6 menadarin, boeka ken ten boeland menadarin, meloek pindo boender apisan, boeka k6nk6n meloek pindo boender apisan, kesar-kesir sambilang dan6 ngigel, igel napi doewinang dan6, igel gowak memaling taloeh, ketjas-ketjos kena djaring, djaring goeling ngelod kanginang. Smoke of the mountain, sweet-smelling smoke, The sattghyangs leap like a deer, Back and forth, on their head like a moon, On their head like anders, They stop under a temen tree, Stroking backs, stroking cheeks, Happy to caress each other. Light and flitting, the song rises to heaven. Come here, come flitting down, With sinuous motion, crying out. Their waists are narrow, their net rolled up. They go off to the south, to the east, They encounter a pagoda of eleven roofs.

There the heavenly nymphs approach, There the woman I Tjantel Is offering betel with a tjanggoeri flower; She borrows a scissors and goes off to the east. What does she borrow die scissors for? She means to cut off the tail of a dragonfly. What dragonfly did she cut the tail of? The Golden Dragonfly, the plaything of the heavenly nymphs. Like a moon— This is the way a moon is— Two sickles make a single circle, Just like that, sickles twice, a single circle, To and fro as they dance. What dance is that of their plaything? The dance of the crow stealing eggs, Jumping about as if caught in a net. The net is rolled up, they go off to the south, to the east. II Ratoe Ajoe sampoenang sendoe, parekand noenas kesisipan, itja koeda Ratoe Ajoe, tiang noenas kesisipan. Lord Ajoe, do not be angry, Your servant begs your pardon. However much you may give, Ratoe Ajoe, I beg your pardon. III Goematar-goematar Sanghyang Teter ninija-nija οηέ, goematar anggon nongos, sampoen dedelanga wangi. Trembling, trembling, the sanghyang, A dove is her mother, Trembling on the spot, As soon as pressed down, the perfume rises. IV Piring anggeris toetoepina baan pinggan tjawan, dedari nangis waneh menjawat san£ betjik soekeh djawat. An (English?) plate, covered By a big bowl,

Little

Girl Trance

The nymphs weep, wanting to touch— The beautiful is difficult to touch.2 V Mangoel£mat I Ratoe Sanghyang, sampoen s£r£g pemargini, jan tonden toetoeg mara djani £l6g-£l£gang. I Ratoe Sanghyang comes fluttering down; Don't be tired of walking; If it's not yet over, now Is the time to wiggle the hips. VI Pedjang lebang tangan njan£ bibin Simpering, agoeng toeroen memaretin di pedjang lebang. Turn loose her hand, Of the mother of Simpering, The Great One comes down, approaching, When she is loosed. VII Ka raris ngadeg Joe Dedari sareng kekalih igel dan6 kadi toendoeng menedeng sari, tempoeh angin sojor megelohan. To quickly stand (be present), the nymphs, Two together they dance, Like lilies with pollen in the center, Blown by the wind, swaying. VIII Sekar Tandjoeng ngalih Sandat ragan£ oeloeng, lamoen oeloeng Dedarini lajak-lajak Melok-melok βηέ tjerikan. The water lily seeks the sandat flower; They fall, and as they fall The heavenly nymphs bend over backward; The littlest one is curved way -over. The translations given here are approximations, intended to render the type of imagery evoked in the songs, and the looseness of grammatical * To touch so as to bring into trance. See p. 182.

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197

construction which ties the images together. In the song of the deer, for example, the image of the antlered deer whose two curving horns suggest the shape of the moon, leads into the passage about the dragonfly, and this again to the image of the moon. It is not clear if the dragonfly, perhaps by its markings or by the beat of its paired wings, is like the moon or if the image refers again to the homs of the deer. The dance of the dragonfly, the song continues, is like the dance of the crow stealing eggs. "Crow stealing eggs" is the title of an ancient and well-known melody. Another image is evoked. Then we have the dragonfly "jumping about as if caught in a net," which leads back again to the image of the nymphs with their dragonfly net. With this the song ends: without a return to the imagery of the deer, they roll up their nets and are off. The choice of words is often more consonant in sound than it is congruent in sense, as, for example, the passage "Lilit linting mengelingling," indicating a sinuous motion (lilit linting, coiling) and making a humming cry (mengelinking), which has onomatopoeic value. T h e words together sound like a sinuous motion, though the last one is only like in sound and has no meaning referring to motion; and then the following words continue with a reference to the narrow (willowy) waists and the coiled-up net. All the words, of which there are many, suggesting a light and flitting movement, have also a sound of lightness and motion: k£bijarkebijoer (light and flitting) ngelelente (fluttering), kesar-kesir (to and fro?), ketjas-ketjos (jumping about), likak-likoek (back and forth), from song I; from III, goematar-goemitir (trembling); from V, mangoelemat (like a falling leaf). There are also many of the more specific words which refer to a dance movement: in V, dldg-ilegang, elsewhere, elog-elogang (wiggling the hips); in VIII lajak-lajak (bend over backward); and in I and VIII, meloek or melokmelok (bend, like the bend of a kris). Flowers, dragonflies, the moon, deer, doves, incense, and perfume seem appropriate imagery for this type of song. As for the English plate, if indeed it is that which they sing about (the

198

Kintamani District

word is emggeris, of which no one knew the meaning, and may well be a corruption of inggeris, Malay for English), the idea no longer seems so poetic. Probably what is meant is a plate of foreign manufacture, a glazed plate, which, to a people who make only unglazed pottery, is a pretty thing. The last line, which we have translated "the beautiful is difficult to touch" (sane betjik, the beautiful, good, fitting one) may carry the underlying meaning: "To touch, and bring into trance, the beautiful trance dancer is as delicate as to touch the fragile foreign plate." These songs are elusive to translate, as are the folk songs of many other lands where sound and image have come together in rhythmic association. ( I should be reluctant to attempt to translate, "Hickory dickery dock, T h e mouse ran up the clock," into another language.) The translations offered here are made from the annotations of Gregory Bateson, who went over the texts collected by Mad6 Kal£r, and annotated every translatable word with its associative meanings, and who later went over them with Dr. C. J. Grader, a Dutch authority on the Balinese language. The original texts are punctuated but not arranged in verse form. I am responsible for the arrangement in verses as this arrangement seems to me to render the songs more closely than a prose passage. But it must be borne in mind that the Balinese syllabic writing not only does not break the writing into verses, it does not divide the phrases by any signs of punctuation, and even the spaces we place between words are not indicated. Therefore my arrangement is somewhat arbitrary and intended only to suggest that it is a song, with well-marked musical phrasing.

Titiang oesan ηέ mekarja Sangijang mangkin Pelan mar pelan loejoe tetoemboen6 oeli meretjepada Sidemdemang I Dewa sidemdemang Μεΐίββέ ingkoet Ida lengeh ngadjengang gadoeng. Gadoeng napi ngalengehin I Dewani? Gadoeng Kastoeri tetoembasan oeli Djawa. Ascend, ascend, ascend, Ajoe Dedari, ascend. I have finished the ceremony (work) of the sanghyang now. They are already weary, already tired, the carriers from the earth. Sidemdemang,3 the God sidemdemang With betel, drunk from eating gadoeng. What gadoeng made the God drunk? Kastoeri gadoeng brought from outside the land.4 On certain occasions the sanghyangs were asked to give medicine. The priest consecrated the holy water to be used for this purpose, and those who were ill might ask to be sprinkled with this water. In such cases the song sung to the sanghyangs was as follows: X Song for Asking Medicine Sekar djepoen ngalepang mandori^ poetih Poetjoek bang mesari koening Anggέn Ida mekarja tirta Tirta ning pamijak mala pangenteg bajoe Siratina ragan6 tiang. The fragrance of the djepoen flower overpowers the white mandori flower; The red hybiscus is decked with yellow. The god uses it to make holy water, The pure holy water, which separates misfortunes and steadies the strength; With this may my body be sprinkled.

The following two songs were collected at a later time in Bajoeng Gede, written down by Mad6 Kal^r, and annotated by Margaret Mead.

The following prayer was recited by the priest when people asked for medicine (written down by M K ) :

IX

Titiang nawegang ring paloenggoeh tjokor Ratoe, penembahan titiang Ratoe Sakti Kajoeselem, wen-

Song for the Coming Out of Trance Asking the Gods to Ascend Moenggah-moenggah moenggah Ajoe Dedari moenggah

3 No

one knew the meaning of the word sidemde-

mang. ' Djawa, or Java, is commonly used for any land outside Bali.

Little Girl Trance ten oeningang titiang ring paloenggoeh tjokor Ratoe, sinarengan ring raka-rain tjokor Ratoe ping kalih pekak-adjin tjokor Ratoe ping kalih poetran tjokor Ratoe sareng sami, mangda kajoen tjokor Ratoe medal wenten wekasang titiang ping kalih pandjak tjokor Ratoe saking dangin djoerang djaga noenas pengenteg. Bajoen tjokor Ratoe djaga moesboesin kegeringan pandjak tjokor Ratoe. Ping kalih titiang jan sampoen oesan tjokor Ratoe mekarja tirta pengenteg Bajoe mangda sampoen titiang keneng tjinakra bawa ngeroepak radja-derewen tjokor Ratoe mangden betjik antoek titiang nibakang tirtan tjokor Ratoe ring pandjak tjokor Ratoe, nembe mangkin pandjak tjokor Ratoe tangkil, di sampoene lintang beboeboetan, tangkil ring tjokor Ratoe, ngatoerang peras-penjeneng medaging tjanang adjoeman poetih-koening ring beras atjekilik meroentoetan djinah seket-pat meserana baas barak ring koenjit inana. T h e gist of the prayer is as follows: I beg pardon, Lord God, to the Lord Sakti Kajoeselem; I have a communication for the Lord God, together with his elder brothers and younger brothers, and together with his grandfathers and fathers, and together with his children, all of them, that the Lord God may come forth; there is something I have to tell, I, together with the subjects of the Lord God from across the ravine; we want to ask for the steadying of strength, that the Lord God may take away the sickness (kegringan) of the Lord's subjects. And what is more when the Lord has finished making the holy water which steadies the strength, may I be right in opening the Lord's possession, may I properly give the holy water of the Lord God to the subjects of the Lord. Only now the subjects of the Lord come into his presence, they have for a long time been made ill by demons (beboeboetan), they come into the presence bowing to the Lord, bringing offerings of peras-fenjeneng filled with tjanang adjoeman yellow and white, with a measure of rice, accompanied by money, 44 cash, and with a magical (meserana) filling of red rice and yellow curry. This prayer is difficult to translate because the priest in giving it to M K has embellished it with polite phrases and frequent repetitions of appellations of respect for the gods. There are also some few words which are perhaps from the

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199

old language and which neither he nor M K knew the meaning of, as, for example, tjinakra bawa. H e repeatedly brings in the tjokor Ratoe, literally, "the foot of the Lord," an expression of respect for the god, which is associated with the name for one of the kinds of holy water commonly used in ceremonial in Bali, banjen tjokor or banjoen tjokor, meaning the water in which the gods' feet have been washed. T h e priest apologizes for himself and for the people, the god's subjects, asks for holy water to drive away the illness, and enumerates the offerings which are given in return for the favor. T h e two words used here for illness are derived from the names of evil spirits (gering) and demons ( b o e t a ) . Gering are more specifically the spirits bringing sickness, especially pestilence, which is believed to approach a village from the direction of the sea (kelod). In the districts of Intaran and Sanoer, which lie by the sea to the south, there was much talk of gerings, and the temple rites surrounding the play with the Rangda and Barong served as exorcism for these as well for the other representatives of the forces of evil. Visitors to that area from other parts of Bali were not surprised to find it reputedly abounding in gerings, because of its location by the sea. Boeta, the word for demon, has no specific connotation as regards illness. Evil and misfortune in general are attributed to the influence of demons, and illness is just one of the evils which are considered to be their work. For the most part when one heard in Bali of the formation of sanghyang groups, it was said that the reason for it was the threat of an approaching epidemic. T h e performance of the sanghyang dances was thought to ward off pestilence, and the creation of a sanghyang pair was believed to be a judicious move when the village was threatened. In Bajoeng Ged£, as we have seen, the sanghyang dancers had been in existence for a number of years, and the tradition was perpetuated by the induction of new trance dancers each time a girl came to puberty and was forced to stop dancing. Here there was little connection between the play of the sanghyang deling groups and the threat of pestilence. This

200

Kintamani

giving of medicine was decidedly a minor function of the Bajoeng Ged£ sanghyangs and one which was only rarely called into play. It was

District their only link with the belief, elsewhere prevalent, that sanghyang performances were made especially to ward off illness.

IV

Selat District FOLK TRANCE

A quite distinct type of trance manifestation was the group of sanghyangs performed in the mountain district around Selat, in the eastern section of Bali. These were folk plays, crude, earthy performances given without any elaborate and gilded costuming and paraphernalia but using the simple homely objects to be found around the house. A potlid might be the center of the performance, or a broom. The players might take the part of the domestic pig or the familiar monkey that lived in the trees round about, and they dressed for either role in the shaggy black needles from the sugar palm, tied in bunches to their bodies. No high-flown jargon relating to the gods and their imperial retinue was invoked to explain why Darja suddenly would go into trance and wallow in the mud like a pig, why Darma suddenly would climb a bamboo pole and swing from it like a monkey. Very litde was said about the theoretical entering by spirits belonging to the gods' world. To questioning on this aspect of the performances the people gave vague and confused answers, qualifying all their suggested explanations with expressions of doubt and uncertainty. They were not concerned with known godly personalities to whom a chain of religious and legendary associations clung. It was just a fact: the men went into trance and behaved like that. The word used when the man passed into the state of trance was not keraoehan (entered) but nados or nadi (from dados and dadi, to become). The people knew how to bring about this change of state and had known how for at least two generations—they said they had always

SANGHYANGS known. They saw nothing remarkable in it. Only certain individuals went into trance, but they were ordinary human beings, and there was nothing remarkable about them either. The only necessary qualification mentioned to us was that, as children, they should not have been bitten. They said: "Those become sanghyangs who are bold. But if they have been snapped at by a dog or by a pig and are wounded, usually, when they are smoked, they don't go in trance. If they have been snapped at by a dog or a pig but not wounded, they do go in trance when smoked." Certain rather strict rules surrounded the giving of sanghyang performances. It had to be the harvest season, after the Oesaba festival in the Dalem temple. The moon had to be growing full: they were never given during the dark of the moon. They had to be given at nightfall, never in the daylight. Neither might the performers go on playing after about nine o'clock at night, for on no account were they to come in contact with dew. Some of the performances were more delicate than others, less likely to succeed unless the greatest caution was exercised in the preparation for them. For the sanghyang snake and the sanghyang puppy, stage-property snake and puppy had to be constructed from fresh grass. "He who goes to seek for the grass must not be seen, and it must not be seen where he puts it Moreover, the grass must be such as has not been eaten by cows, or by anything else." These performances, which were likely to fail if the gatherer of the materials had been observed, were called the most secret (pijit).

202

Selat District

A considerable crowd had to be present to insure that the trancer did not get out of hand. Once, they said, a man who had become a sanghyang pig escaped from the courtyard where he was playing and roamed the outskirts of the village all night long. T h e y were not able to catch him until the morning. H e had by that time ravaged the gardens, trampled and eaten the plants, which was not good for the village. H e had also, being a pig, eaten large quantities of excreta he had found in the roadways, which was not good for him. At the season for sanghyangs, performances might take place every night for several nights in succession and even in several different houses on the same night. In the village of Doeda it was said that every household had its sanghyang. T h e crowd that gathered was alert and attentive, the whole spirit like that for a game in which everyone would take part. Everyone would join in the singing which directed the trancers' performance. People would call out jibes to the performers, urging them on, taunting them with phrases known to infuriate them. T h e crowd enjoyed this very much indeed. W h e n the time came to bring the act to an end, a whole group would fall upon the trancer, who struggled fiercely in convulsions precipitated by the attack. Amid great excitement, everyone would fall over everyone else in a headlong rough-and-tumble. T h e n they would set themselves to nursing the trancer back to normal consciousness. All would then be just as intent on caring for the man who was coming back to himself as they had been a few moments before in taunting and exciting the creature he had "become." In this land of rigidly formal trance stances, where mediums dressed in gilded cloth and jewels would sit in solemn conclave giving trance impersonations of the gods, it was surprising to come across such homely and undignified proceedings surrounding the practice of trance—a sort of adolescent roughhouse. T h e odd thing was that the actual trance states achieved by these techniques were quite as intense as those which were produced in the elaborate settings and with all the aura of the godly presences hanging about them.

T h e history of our connection with the sawghyang players of this district began in September, 1937, when Walter Spies and I first learned of their existence. Walter Spies had at the time been residing in Bali for some thirteen years and had by study and exploration become thoroughly familiar wtih all the types and variations of performances to be found throughout the island. T o run across a veritable nest of new forms unknown to him seemed an astounding discovery. T h e people gave a list of twenty different varieties of sanghyangs practiced locally: sanghyang n

lelipi tjeleng koeloek hodjog seripoetoet

11

memedi

II II II II II II

tjapah sela praoe sampat dedari lesoeng kekerek djaran gading djaran poetih teter

"

"

II

II

II

dongkang penjoe lilit linting sembe toetoep

snake P'g puppy monkey (puppets of palm, on a string) (evil spirit, steals children) (bit of woven palm) (kind of potato) broom heavenly nymph rice-pounding mortar small bamboo object yellow horse white horse (three-forked stick, tied to finger) toad turtle (coiling) (oil lamps on a string) potlid

Onlv two of these corresponded with forms known in other parts of Bali, the sanghyang dedari and sanghyang memedi. T h e others were all completely new, as if, as sometimes happens in Bali, a sudden burst of creativity had at some time given rise to a whole gamut of improvisations, which later became standardized in the locality as traditional forms. 1 1 Gregory Bateson pointed out a parallel between the sanghyang performances of the Selat district and the wood carving of the village of Sebatoe. Here also there was an outburst of folk art, producing an enormous crop of wooden figures all outside the traditional forms

Folk Trance Soon after we had heard of the new sangwe were able to persuade the people to put on a trial performance of three kinds. They warned us that because it was not the season, they were likely not to succeed. But taboos and restrictions in Bali were not so stringent that they could not be got around by some sophistry or other. The influence of the Hindu priests, past masters at this art, was no doubt responsible for the lack of inflexibility. At any rate, the three performances came off to our entire satisfaction and to that of the audience. During the subsequent harvest season I was away from Bali. Walter Spies, however, attended the festival and witnessed seventeen of the performances. Enchanted by them, he wrote to me the glowing description which I shall presently quote. GM, my Balinese secretary, accompanied him and made a complete record: descriptions hyangs,

in sculpture, expressing the free fantasies of the relatively unskilled villagers. In a very short time after the inception of this movement, the carvers had settled down to a recognizable style in the production of their little figures, and though they continued to experiment with ever more audacious and grotesque subjects, the rendering conformed to what could already be called "the Sebatoe tradition." Gregory Bateson and Margaret Mead collected some eight hundred of these figures.

SANGHYANG (REPORTED

Sanghyangs

of the procedure and the different properties, the texts of the songs, interviews with the chief players, and the comments of the villagers concerning the manifestations. Later GB, GM, and I saw a group of three sanghyangs, arranged for us, and only one of the three, in our opinion, failed to come off. Finally, we were able to arrange for Dr. van Wulfften Palthe, a psychiatrist, to be present at a performance of three of the varieties of sanghyangs, to examine the players before, during and immediately after the seizures, testing their pupillary reactions and the reflexes of the limbs. The results of his examinations were that pronounced physiological changes were observable in the subjects in the trance state. His observations also fully supported the villagers' claim to a localized effect (that is, an effect in one arm only, as if it were disconnected from the body) brought on by certain of the rituals. This was a most remarkable effect, it seems, of especial interest in medical circles and a parallel to symptoms of hysterical conversion. Dr. van Wulfften Palthe referred to this phenomenon particularly in his paper on possession.2 " "Over de Bezetenheid," Geneeskundig Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch-Indie, Afl. 36, Deel 80 ( 1 9 4 0 ) , pp. 2123-53.

KOELOEK BY

When we arrived at about half past six there were all sorts of preparations made. The court seemed a forest. Two huge bamboos were planted behind the little shrine of Ratoe Medoewd Karang (Lord who owns the court). Very thick bamboos they were with all the leaves and branches on them; the underpart was adorned with a few curls of palm leaf. They stood opposite each other, leaning at each other a bit. Another large tree, a tjempaka, was planted on one side of the shrine, and, of course, the live orange tree was on the other side. The yard was full of people. It was to be sanghyang puppv first.

203

WALTER

PUPPY SPIES)

A mat was spread between the two bamboos. A bare-breasted man came in, sat down on it, and a small puppy made of grass and wrapped in black cloth, with a nice curly tail, was bound to his right hand—under it, so that the hand lay on top of the dog. The hand with dog was leaning on the basket with sesantoen offerings, and under the dog and the arm of the man was burning an incense brazier with a lot of smoke. There he sat, and his eyes were open, because only his arm and hand had to be smoked. Small bells had been tied round the neck of the puppy. Very soon the hand began to tremble. The chorus of girls and boys was as funny as ever,

204

Seht District

and everyone clapped hands rhythmically. At last the dog jumped down from the basket and went sliding and jumping a litde forward and backward. The man followed his arm in every direction, squattingly walking. It went on and on, all round the yard, the crowd always making some space free but being very careful not to touch the doggy! Once he jumped on the foot of the shrine, another time on the steps, but was warned away with shouts of "tyh-tjih" [special "go away" used to dogs in Bali]. So the puppy went trembling and tinkling round and round. On some corner suddenly he fell on one side and could not get up again. Everyone shouted, "The puppy's dead, he's dead, he's

SANGHYANG (REPORTED

dead." Two men jumped to him and unfastened the strings. The hand of the sanghyang man was trembling and shaking furiously. And the man himself looked at it with awe and astonishment. It had real convulsions, and it took a long time to calm the arm. Holy water was sprinkled on it, and it was washed and rubbed and massaged, and very slowly the shaking became slower and slower, and, when it stopped, the arm hung limply down, very tired, and the man could hardly move it. He had to lift it up with his left hand. He said afterwards it was a feeling like semoetan (pins and needles), and the arm felt as weak and forceless as if one had slept on it the whole night in a wrong position.

BODJOC BY

They were dressed in the house-temple. One [represented a] female (Darja [Fig. 103], the same who had just done the puppy performance) with black sugar-palm fiber all around his body, with a funny crest on his head and a long tail behind. The other, the male (Darma [Fig. 104]) was white, with bamboo shavings, with a still longer white tail. They were sprinkled with holy water in front of the shrine of Ratoe Pand£.3 They came out and sat on the mat between the two bamboos, leaning over two incense bowls, the sesantoen (offering) basket in front of them. The chorus sang something very much like the pig song.4 The trembling came very soon, accompanied by the clapping of hands. The white male monkey was first to jump up. U p he went one of the bamboos, right to the top. Very soon

WALTER

MONKEY SPIES)

came the black one behind him. They met somewhere very high in the tops, the bamboos swaying dreadfully; they jumped from twig to twig and from one bamboo swinging to another, and all that about five or six meters high up in the air. It was very astonishing, this absolute balance in movement, and speed, and "monkeyness." They did some sort of lovemaking up there and came, embarrassed, j u m p ing down to the ground. The white one ran to the other tree, the tjempaka, climbed like lightning to the top of it. The tree broke, and he fell with tree and everything tumbling down, and jumped up, and was in a second on the bamboos again. They swung, hanging on one arm only, and flying through the air, grasping on the way the next bamboo, just like acrobats in the circus. The audience called out, "Njoet— * G M noted the prayer spoken by I Tabanan, one of njoet." The black one, who was not as lively, the villagers, at the time the two players were sprinkled suddenly shook the bamboo furiously, sitting on with holy water in the house-temple. It was: "Lord Betara Seri, I beg that it may be the will of the Lord the top of it. The bamboo could not stand it any Cod, swiftly to come down, that [they] may be seeped longer and broke in the middle: with a crash into (kxisoesoepan) by the gods (sanghyang widi).' it fell, with the monkey in it. The monkey ' T h e song sung to the monkeys was this: jumped, I think, from about three meters high Don dapaap, don djaroeti, down on his four legs—and jumped away in Manalaplap manaliti. Leaves of dapdap, leaves of djaroeti, the dark somewhere. In the meanwhile the white Take a chance, balancing.

Folk Trance one was amusing himself, standing and jumping up and down on the broken bamboo and doing all kinds of dangerous stunts—broken bamboo is knife-sharp. He tried to climb over the broken bamboo to the roof of a building but was not allowed to by the crowd, and the houseowner! He became more and more wicked and furious, and at last got quite hysterical and had to be captured and held by at least six men. He was kicking everyone with arms and legs, making monkey noises and biting round him. They forced him down on the ground. But the black one came from nowhere and began to climb bamboos again and was also already quite ripe

SANGHYANG (RECORDED BY J B

Sanghyangs

to be captured. So they did: they caught him in midflight, and he was annoyed, very much. When he also was lying on the ground, he had a wound on his upper lip, which was bleeding badly. Water was brought, and the wound washed and stuffed with something that looked like spinach. And then both were washed and sprinkled and rubbed and massaged. The white one went to sleep pretty soon, but the black one had many more convulsive attacks and, when he did fall asleep, slept for a longer time. No more sanghyangs could be done that night, because the dew fell strongly. [End of Walter Spies's account]

TJ£L£NG—PIG

AND G M ,

9:45 P.M. T h e player, I Soekrana, came out dressed in sugar-palm fiber, formed into a cowl entirely covering his head and face, extended in front in the shape of a snout, covering his back, and twisted into a lovely upstanding tail. It was tied down to his elbows and his knees, but left his forearms and calves bare. He squatted on the mat facing the little shrine, holding his hands over the smoking brazier. 9 : 5 0 T h e audience began to sing: Dag dag s6 baang tj61£ng, Parokpok toeroein banjoe; Lengar ged£ matjoelal^ng, Getok tendasn6 ben panggoel. Leaves and grass give to the pig; Pour outrice-washingwater in the trough; His wide, bald, filthy head Hit with a hammer. The man's head swayed forward over the brazier, he rocked on his heels. The people, seeing him near trance, began to clap. In one minute he had fallen forward on all fours, knocking over the

205

SBPTEMBBR

9,

1937)

brazier. He went slowly creeping away, in a very leisurely animal-like walk. Across the court, he suddenly did a sort of handspring, swinging his legs in a semicircle but not bringing them very high off the ground. He continued on all fours, approached one of the buildings, and stood rubbing his side against it, raising and lowering his body. As the audience continued to sing, he crossed the court again, came to another pavilion from which people were watching, turned round, and presented his rear to them. T h e onlookers were by now thoroughly in the spirit of the thing, and, apparendy, enjoying it hugely. As the "pig" crossed the court, a man gave him a push, just as if he were a clumsy animal in the way. "Go get him something for a nest, so he'll want to stay here," another suggested. A great mass of dried banana leaves was dragged out into the center, to serve as the beast's nest. Unexpectedly, the "pig" crossed over to a stone trough and, lowering his head, began to drink out

206

Selat District of it like an animal, making a slobbering sound. People rushed to overturn the trough and spill the contents, because, they said, the rice-washing water it contained was spoiled. The "pig" then made for the entrance, which was barred with bamboo poles such as are usual in gateways, to keep the pigs from straying out of the courtyard. "Don't let him out!" they cried as he tried to pass this barricade. With some effort he was turned away from the gate. The singing of the song, monotonously repeated, continued without a break, except for the calls and exclamations from one or another of the audience. Someone brought a dish filled with fresh rice-washing water and set it down near me on the ground. "Tjitah, tjitah," they called, finishing with a clucking sound, the traditional call for pigs. He responded at once and came lumbering up to lap from this dish. Then he backed off, went to the nest of leaves, lay upon them, and rolled ecstatically. He continued this sort of business, getting up, creeping slowly across the court, rubbing his back against the various buildings, occasionally making one of his odd handsprings or dashing suddenly at a group of people huddled on a pavilion and startling them so that they climbed up on the sleeping platform, then returning to the leaves to scratch and roll in them, over and over, grunting with pleasure. People called out comments: "What a big pig!" "Come here, piglet, here's your feed!" "Go on, wallow in it!" as he hurled himself on his nest and began to make unmistakable motions of copulation. This was greeted with hoots of laughter.

10:08

A man then called out from one of the pavilions a taunt known to infuriate the sanghyang pig. "To Bandem," he cried, which meant "to the market." The suggestion is that the pig is to be caught,

put in a long basket, and carried off to be sold.5 With one bound the "pig" was up on the pavilion whence the taunt had come. Great confusion, the people shrieked and scattered, a child began to cry. Then the pig turned and leaped down again onto the ground, from a height of at least five feet, landing on all fours with as much ease as if he had been all his life a four-footed creature. Still angry, he attacked the overturned stone trough, butting it and pushing it along the ground with his head. Men, seeing he was getting out of control, hurried to restrain him. Others brought great jars of water which they poured in the center of the court, making a wet and muddy place, sloshy as a pigsty. As the men approached to try to catch him, the "pig" darted round behind a house, grunting and panting fiercely. By this time most of the fiber covering had come off him, only the head and snout remaining. Someone got close enough to him to tear this off, as they called out, "Wallow, wallow!" 10:16

At last the "pig" came to the muddy place, slid himself down in it, and rolled luxuriously, kicking with his legs. "Celalang geliling, gegalang geg iling!" (Roll, roll!), sang the delighted audience. He lay on his back and, as his ecstasy mounted, drew up his knees and stamped hard on the ground with the soles of his feet. Many men had come

S A taunting verse said to infuriate the sanghyang pig is this one, which GM collected at another time. Although the people did not sing it on this night, it carries the same meaning as the man's gibe.

Sent6 sent£ senti sent£ senti (kind of leaves), Pelendo pelendo pelendo pelendo pelendo (pith of a tree), Djoek djoek djoek djoek djoek (catch him), Bangsoengin bangsoengin bangsoengin (put him in a basket).

Folk Trance up on all sides of him, calling out excitedly, "Catch him, catch him, get hold of his legs!" The "pig" wallowed in the wetness, stamping violendy, making huge kicks in the air, and emitting loud grunts. He was slippery and in such contortions that he was almost impossible to get hold of. Finally the men fell upon him all at once, precipitating a fit; powerful convulsions shook his whole body, obviously beyond any control. After a terrific struggle, the thrashing limbs were at last pinned down, and with a loud "Wuh!" the man lay back, rigid. His grunts grew less loud, more like gasping pants. A strong tremor was observable in his arms, though three men were holding them tightly on each side. Another man was kneeling on him to hold him down, his knee pressed

OTHER

PERFORMANCES

OF

A year and a half later (March 7, 1939) GB, GM, and I witnessed another performance of the sanghyang tjeleng, also arranged for us. This time the people had decided it would be fun to have two pigs. One of the players was the same one I had seen before, I Soekrana, and the other, I Soekani (Fig. 105). By this time the people had become more accustomed to an audience of Westerners. G B and I used our flashlights freely, turning them onto the faces of the players. The light for the performances had always been very dim, coming chiefly from the moon. It was feebly augmented by a few very small oil lamps hanging in the corners of the large court. No one objected when we flashed on our beams or when, during the final spasms of the players, we took hold of their arms and legs to test the rigidity of the muscles. The crowd was very gay and enthusiastic, entering into the sport, egging on the players in their

207

Sanghyangs

firmly into his belly. People brought jars of water which they poured over him freely, literally dousing him from head to foot. As he grew quiet and his gasps diminished, they began to massage his arms and legs. (A special pinching motion rather than rubbing is the Balinese technique). 10:19

All together then the people lifted him up and carried him to a sleeping platform. His body, as they carried him, seemed still quite rigid. They continued the massage and called to him, "Ketoet, Ketoet!" He sighed, and opened his eyes. They lifted him to a sitting position He drew up his legs and leant his arms on them, tired. He looked around him

10:23

once, as if awakening. Then he stood up and, without saying anything, went away behind the house to wash the mud from his body.

SANGHYANG

TJ6LI!NG

PIG

antics, and roaring in appreciation, as if they were seeing the show for the first time. T h e play between the two of them began with "fighting" as soon as they had gone into trance. "MepeZoe, me-paloe!" the crowd called out, the word used for a battle between cocks or other animals. They were separated, whereupon they turned about each other, doing the peculiar "handspring." Soon one had taken a bit of the palm fiber (left over from their costuming) in his mouth, the other came up and bit at it, starting a tug-of-war which was very funny indeed, the two grotesque creatures straining on all fours to tear the stuff away from each other. After a while, wearying of this game, they wandered off, scratched their sides against the buildings, made dashes into the crowds, or lay down, sluggishly, in the dirt beside a wall, just as the pigs do. From time to time they would return to attack each other. Once, when one of

208

Seht District

the "pigs" was crouching low, the other came up and mounted him, making a few vague indecent motions which were greeted with shrieks of delight from the crowd. T h e top one got off, then the under one rose, and leaped over him flirtatiously. All this in slow motion, very animal and piggish. T h e illusion they created was so perfect that, when the moment came to untie and remove the fiber covering from their backs, they did not stay still, but kept moving along on four legs. T h e y looked very naked, like skinned beasts. T h e "catching" this time clearly precipitated the convulsive fit in the two players. As soon as they were caught their arms and legs began to do gyrations, their heads rolled back on their necks, while the "catchers" struggled to get hold of them and pin them on the ground. I was watching Soekani, who is small and lithe. As he was laid on the ground he arched his body backward in an arc, like Ngales of Pagoetan. His whole body was rigid, the head thrown back, a very tense expression on his face. Turning the flashlight full in his face elicited no response. His eyes were closed, the mouth open, the lips rounded and projecting slightly, the tongue also projecting between the lips, as if swollen. H e was gasping and panting, like a person near the climax of sexual excitement. His chest rose and fell with each gasp, the ribs sticking out, plainly marked. But there was no localized rhythmic pulsation. Rather his whole body was involved in the spasm, and the arms and legs would have been wildly thrashing had he not been so closely held down. W a t e r was poured on his face and into his open mouth. T h e spasm continued on a level, then gradually subsided. W h e n it was done, the body relaxed. T h e helpers lifted him to a sitting position. His head dropped forward, his arms hung limply, the people holding him and massaging him. "He's supple already," said one. "Call him." They called him to awaken him, showing much concern. H e opened his eyes, sighed, and went on sitting as he was, limp as a rag. Meanwhile Soekrana was being brought out of his fit. It took a couple of minutes longer but

seemed somewhat less intense than Soekani's. I noted the mouth rounded in the same way, but the tongue was not visible. W h e n both had come to themselves, they rose and went to have a bath. T e n minutes later, Soekani was back on the mat before the little shrine, ready to perform again, this time as sanghyang memedi. I asked G M afterward why he thought it was that the most violent seizure seemed to be brought on when the men gathered round and caught hold of the sanghyangs. H e thought for a moment. Then he said, "Animals behave like that. They go along nicely, but, if you try to catch hold of them, they struggle and go wild." W h e n Dr. van Wulfften Palthe came to see the sanghyang tjeling ( J u n e 10, 1939), it was Darja who played the pig. T h e doctor had examined the players before the performance began, to be sure that their responses were normal. During the final seizure, after Darja was caught, Dr. van Wulfften Palthe flashed his light into the eyes of the struggling man. T h e pupils were wide, and there was no reaction. In the normal state, he said, the eyes would have rolled up as a defensive response. Darja's fit in the grasp of the men who held him corresponded very closely to that we had seen before in Soekani and Soekrana, the head thrown back, mouth open, gasping, all the muscles contracted. T h e fit continued for some five minutes, while the men struggled with him and doused him with water. During this time the psychiatrist tested Darja's knee jerk. This reflex was absent, the strong involuntary contraction of both extensors and flexors rendering it impossible. Dr. van Wulfften Palthe later published this description of the seizure: "A few strong villagers catch the pig. W h e n as a result of this his movements are restrained, there is an outburst of a classical hysterical attack: stretch-spasm, arc en ciel, distorted eyes and a foaming mouth. After a few moments this changes to a general limpness Qverslajrping)." β At another time, Walter Spies and G M witnessed a sanghyang tjeling performance of Darja's which was brought to an unex" "Over de Bezentenheid," Geneeskundip Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch-lndie, Afl. 36, Deel 80 (1940).

Folk Trance pected end under curious circumstances. This performance (April 10, 1938) began in the usual way, the "pig" crawling about on all fours, rubbing his back against the buildings, and making the odd jumps. Walter Spies wrote: Very soon something happened. He was rubbing himself again along the wall of a building on which dozens of people were standing. Suddenly he fell over and began to cry dreadfully, beating the ground with his legs and arms. Five or six men jumped up and tried to hold him. He was defending himself fiercely. They put him on the mat and began to massage him, but he cried and shouted and had dreadful convulsions. It seemed that one of the children standing on the pavilion had spat on him, and that's why he suddenly had those attacks! It took a long time to calm him—these cries and moans were

SANGHYANG

A contretemps somewhat similar to the one with the pig occurred earlier the same evening (April 10, 1938) when I Darma was playing sanghyang lelifi (snake). This is one of the very secret ones, for which no one may see the grass being gathered; and GM had not been allowed into the house-temple where the offering was dedicated and Darma sprinkled before the performance began. The snake is kept hidden until the last moment: only when all is ready and the player is seated on the mat before the smoking brazier and a small sacred άαγάαγ tree planted in the ground, can the mysterious snake make its appearance. Walter Spies described the performance thus: The discordant singing began, of women, children, boys and men, in all pitches and tempi possible. A man about thirty years old, I think, sat on the mat. The snake was brought, a nice thing of about a meter and a half long, with a funny head adorned with curls of young palm leaf, and long whiskers, and a few brass bells.

Sanghyangs

209

dreadful to hear—but at last he became calmer and fell asleep for a long time. There was no feed brought for him and no mud bath, as we saw before, I suppose because of this accident. The crowd was very annoyed by the sudden end of it, and all went home. [End of Walter Spies's account] GM noted that many people had called out, "Who was that who was so very insulting (banggi)? Who spat over there? If he hadn't been spat on, it wouldn't be right for him to come out of trance yet." As Darja's convulsions continued, and he went on crying out, they remarked, 'It's not right for him come back to consciousness yet, he hasn't yet had enough of playing. When he's had enough, as soon as he's caught, he'll come out of trance."

LELIPI

SNAKE

The body of the snake is green grass bound round with whitish spirals and rings. The head of the snake was attached to the man's right hand, to his smallest finger, so that the body followed the length of his arm. The snake was put on the offering basket and half round it— it looked like a snake charmer. The man leaned over the incense bowl, and, when it looked as if he would begin to tremble, everyone clapped rhythmically, the singing going on more and more discordandy. The man fell backwards suddenly, with some sort of convulsions, but became calmer very soon and began to crawl along in a snaky way, lying on his stomach with legs outstretched, left hand under the breast, right hand (with the snake) stretched forward, and shaking it slightly so that the bells of the snake's head would tinkle-tinkle. The right snake-hand made movements from the elbow, as if the snake were looking where to go. He crawled along for some time, round the άαγάαγ tree, to the shrine, tried to climb a small orange tree but was not

210

Selat District

allowed to by the crowd. They shouted, "That's not allowed, that's not allowed—it's slippery there." I suppose they were afraid that the tree would be spoiled. He also tried to climb up some steps but was stopped. T h e crowd was vers' anxious not to be touched by the tail of the snake. T h e y said the trance would have an end immediately. And so he went on and on crawling. At a certain turn the tail of the snake touched slightly the foot of one of the women singing. T h e man turned immediately on his back and began to beat around with arms and legs and screamed, and several people had to hold him. Water was brought and poured over him. His face, legs, and arms were rubbed with it. After a few minutes he fell asleep and slept for one or two minutes. Then he stood up and went, a little bit shaky, into the dark. One of the old people said, "What a shame I am too old to do sanghyang leli-pi. I used to do it. And it is such a beautiful feeling! 'Lega, lega fisan" (delicious, quite delicious). And he told me that often he climbed trees and roofs but did not know it nor feel it, only that it was "lega, lega fisan." [End of Walter Spies's report]

SANGHYANG

T h e people told G M that if this sanghyang came in contact with water, or with a person, it would make the sanghyang (the performer) sick, not the person who was touched by it. W h e n he asked what kind of sickness, they said semoetan (pins and needles) over his whole body. At the end they remarked: "A sanghyang like this can't touch water, much less a person. It's very dangerous (ping/t)· Just now, if it hadn't touched a person, he wouldn't have fallen in a fit ([ngele-pat) yet. Just now, who was touched there to the south? Truly [someone] was touched by the tail, if it were not so he wouldn't have had the fit yet." T h e song for the snake sanghyang Menadi sanghyang lelipi, Melilit men£kang seboen, Melingkeh boeka lekeh, Menjeler boeka leser. The sanghyang snake, become, Coils upward to his nest. He coils like a head-coil (rest for round-bottomed pots), He straightens out straight.

MEMEDI

Perhaps the most eerie of all these sanghyangs was the one in which the performer would transform himself into the spirit memedi and, with gestures weird, stealthy, and sometimes obscene, come and go in the shadowy court, conjuring up the impression that one was indeed gazing upon a creature ordinarily invisible to man. T h e play in this case was chiefly upon the suggestibility of the sanghyang, the audience varying the song again and again, the creature responding each time with a specific set of fanciful motions. W e have seen him refuse a verse that he didn't like simply by sitting down, and once by making a dash at the singers and kicking them. But as a rule he was not recalcitrant, he would obey the suggestion of the frequently

is:

EVIL

SPIRIT

changed verses with amazing fluidity, his whole body charged with a sort of secret intensity and grace. T h e people said the chief danger in this performance was that the player would escape from them and run away to the graveyard. In order to prevent it they sometimes tied a scarf or string to the back of his belt, and an attendant would follow him about through the whole performance holding tighdy to this lead. W e saw I Soekani do this sanghyang twice, September 9, 1937, and March 7, 1939, both ordered performances. T h e second time he played it was immediately after the extremelv violent performance of sanghyang tjeleng described above, in which he had such a violent final seizure. Both sanghyang memedi perform-

Folk Trance ances ended in similar attacks. On the night when he did the two successive performances the attacks occurred in less than half an hour of each other. After the second one, when he was at last awakened, he looked around to right and left as if needing to reorient himself; when he tried to walk away, he staggered so that someone had to take hold of his arm to steady him. Soekani's costume for this part consisted of his loincloth trussed up between his legs and a few daubs of white chalk across his forehead, down his nose, and marking bracelets on his wrists and upper arms. When he leaned over the incense brazier to be "smoked," his head was covered with a piece of cloth, which kept the smoke in, and hid his face from view. In the 1939 performance he went in trance almost immediately, the tremor appearing in his hands and elbows within half a minute of his taking his position over the brazier, to be followed immediately by his throwing himself backward, arms and legs outstretched, then rising to a squatting position and moving forward. In the 1937 performance it took him almost eight minutes to achieve the same state. It took so long that the attendants remarked upon it and kept peeking under the cloth to see how he was coming on. One couldn't help thinking of the watched pot. The song they sang while he was going in trance was:

Sanghyangs

211

As soon as the player had fallen over backwards, the song was changed to this one: Song katak, song lindoeng, Song Ιέΐέ, song be djoelit, Metandang, mekidoeng, Mer6r6n njelek djit. Hole of a frog, hole of a little eel, Hole of a catfish, hole of a big eel, Dancing, singing, He stops to stick his finger to his ass. In response, the memedi moved forward in his squatting position, swaying from side to side as he advanced, tracing with his finger on the ground, poking along the edge of the buildings as if searching for holes, then at the termination of each verse, bringing his finger round to point at his behind. Again and again, as they repeated the song, he faithfully repeated the curious actions. ( G M was most impressed by the fact that for the obscene gesture he used his right hand and not his left, as would have been proper.) As the words were changed to new verses, the player changed each time to a new pantomime. There was one in which he stood erect, with one leg in the air, then did a little prancing advance, then sat, suddenly, cross-legged on the ground, rose, and repeated. Lightly and with great agility he executed the motions to this verse:

Sang Wέwέ, Sang W£w6, Ira ngoendang ngoendang rar£ ΓΙβΓέηέ ngoendang pitoeroen Ira ngoendang ngoendang toeroen.

Memedi toelak tingkih, Toro, Toro batan bila, Memedin£ mengantih, Teka I Toro djeg mesila.

Sir Wewe, Sir Wew6 (name of Memedi) We invite you, invite you, the children, The children invite you to descend, We invite you, invite you to come down.7

Memedi turns a nut, Toro, Toro under the bila tree; Memedi is spinning, When I Toro comes, he suddenly sits cross-legged.

7 Memedi spirits are said, in other parts of Bali, to steal children. Here the people saia nothing about children but connected the memedi with the graveyard. Rare is an old word for children appearing chiefly in their herders' songs.

This was generally followed by another spinning verse, to which the player, sitting crosslegged before the singers, would describe a circle very slowly in the air with his extended fore-

212

Seht District

finger, then point to the ground as the singers ended with a funny, screeching sound. Mengantih sira iwengi, Perad6n6 sebit soenting, Apa tengsoel apa pandjen, Ng«&k! He was spinning last night, Because, like a turning spindle, Is it unspun cotton, is it a basket? [imitates the sound when the spinning wheel stops turning]. T o another verse he would squat, trace with his finger on the ground before him, then bring it to his mouth. T h e words were: Pengaloe dagang oejah, Ker6r6gan di pesisi; Pengaloe basangn£ lajah, Mer£r£n medaaran nasi. Horse-driving traders of salt, Seaweed on the beach; The traders' bellies are hungry, They stop to eat rice. Again, he would rise to his feet, dance forward with arms held straight up over his head, palms forward, hands waving slowly back and forth. H e would advance with a slow prancing step, toe pointed down (knee not to the side as in most dancing here). He gave an impression of tiptoeing, of creeping up on something—the way-of-going of an invisible thing. This he did to the graveyard song: Men Badjang loeas ke s6tra Mangoendang ngoendang memedi, Memedi gigini poetih, Irik irikin itjang, Itjang njak tek£n ia, Adedengkoer ip^ng 6p6ng Nikoel kempoer maded6ngser. The mother of the young girl goes to the graveyard Calling, calling the memedi. Memedi has white teeth;

Come, come near to me. I desire him. He sits on one foot, with his neck twisted, Standing on one foot he carries the gong. Thus, changing from one verse to another, the audience directed the play. If, as sometimes happened, he refused to enact a verse, they simply said, "Sing kanggoang," ( " H e won't have it), and tried again. They might return to a verse they had sung before, even one he had refused, and this time he would accept it. At the end, he suddenly dashed into the darkness behind a building, whereupon they set upon him, forced him to the ground, and struggled to control the wild, raging creature he had become. All these sanghyangs, however they might differ from each other during the enacting of the specific role (pig, monkey, memedt) terminated in the same type of final seizure. And this final seizure seemed to be identical with that which occurred sometimes when men and women trancers who had been stabbing themselves with a kris were caught and disarmed. There is a universality about this strong seizure: it does not differ, apparently, from one culture to another, not from one individual to another. It comes from too deep a level to be influenced by custom or by idiosyncratic trends of the personality. According to Dr. van Wulfften Palthe, it looked exactly like what they used to see in the hysterical ward in Europe. That was while the doctors were learning what the Balinese in these villages knew very well, that to catch and restrain the movements of the person affected only intensifies the attack, "just like an animal which is caught and restrained," as G M remarked. T h e same type of seizure may also be observed in the subject in deep hypnosis. And this is in contrast to the behavior of hypnotic subjects in what is known as the somnambulistic state, when quite complex behavior can be carried out—behavior which is "unconscious" but none the less subject to control, which clearly bears the imprint of the culture to which the individual belongs, and which is modified

Folk Trance Sanghyangs according to the make-up of the individual personality, the positive impulses which fit in with the trance role he is playing, and the negative or inhibiting restraints which the remainder of his normal personality, although in abeyance, is able to exert. The behavior of the sanghyang performer or the kris-dancer enacting his role is in this way comparable to that of the hypnotic subject in the somnambulistic state. In very deep trance, hypnotically induced or of the dramatic type we have been discussing, these cultural and individual pattemings disappear:

FURTHER

NOTES

ON T H E

The sanghyangs that have been described so far fall into two classes: one, in which the player himself enacts the role of the creature represented, may be said to be transformed into it; the second, in which an object representing the creature is tied to the man's hand and, when he goes in trance, seems to lead him through appropriate pantomime. The pig, monkey, and memedi sanghyangs belong to the first category. Others of this class are the sanghyang dongkang (toad), in which the man, decorated with chalk stripes, would hop about on all fours; and, although they are on the borderline between the first and second types, the two horse sanghyangs, djaran gading and djaran foetih. In these horse performances, like the related koeda kepang in Java, and other sanghyang djaran to be found elsewhere in Bali, the player would start out riding the hobbyhorse, being, so to speak, the horseman. But in his trance activity he would soon clearly become identified with the horse—he would prance, gallop about, stamp, and kick as a horse—or perhaps it would be fairer to say that he would be the horse and rider in one. For though he would sit on the hobbyhorse, his legs had to serve from the beginning as the legs of the beast. In the two sanghyang djaran performances reported by GM from this district (in the village of Gerijana Kaoeh) the horses were made

213

we are down to bedrock behavior. In discussing these different aspects of trance behavior with Dr. van Wulfften Palthe, he expressed it in these terms: "In the strong seizure, there is less of 'conscious control,' with uncoordinated discharge of cerebral innervation; in the somnambulistic state, coordinated movements occur, governed by cerebral innervation from a much higher level than during the seizure, but still not on the level of consciousness. The acts are more or less automatic, in accordance with a preformed pattern."

VARIOUS

SANGHYANGS

of rattan decorated with leaves which formed the head and tail. For that of the yellow horse (djaran gading) there were two players, each provided with a mount. Curiously enough, the group had also prepared two extra horses. They said that, because formerly people from the crowd had gone in trance and tried to take away the horses from the regular performers, they had these extra mounts ready in case any spontaneous trance should occur! In the other play, that of the white horse (djaran poetih), the construction of the mount was the same, but there was only one, and this was animated by two men behaving as the front and hind legs of the horse. To describe this one, GM used the same term (njaloekin) as was used when two men played the front and hind legs of the Barong. The play consisted in treading on hot coals, a fire made of coconut husks lighted some time beforehand so that it had burned down to coals when the players went in trance. The horses then would run about, crossing the space where the fire was, kicking the larger pieces of coals to one side. Then they would dash to the side of the space where the smaller pieces had fallen and would stamp these out. So they continued until they put out all the points of fire. Word was passed around in the crowd that it was dangerous to smoke a cigarette, for the glowing

214

Selat

point in the darkness would attract the horse, and one would be trampled. G M reported that at one time in the white horse performance the forward man lay down and rolled in the fire. Someone in the crowd called out to the back man, "Why don't you roll too? Follow your brother!" But there was no response from the "hind legs," who just continued circling about. A little later, after they had run about some more, both got down and rolled, which seemed to please the audience. "Now they're doing it together," they called out. In his report of the sanghyang dedari, G M told of similar attempts on the part of the audience to keep the pair together. When the little girls would be facing one one way and the other at an angle, someone would come up and turn them so that they faced in the same direction. In all the trance performances of this district, part of the game was to keep calling out orders or prohibitions, exciting and fending off impulses of the subject in trance by gestures and remarks going beyond the suggestions contained in the repertoire of songs. As the singing continued almost without a break, the entranced subject was at times asked to respond to a double set of commands. Thus the play upon the suggestibility of the entranced was intensified. T h e audience, having lots of fun, would, as it were, tickle the performer, approach him with a taunt known to enrage him, and veer off as if wary of what he might do. The excitement of the game was kept at high pitch by the recognized threat that, if pushed too far, the trancer might become unruly. T h e "object" sanghyangs peculiar to this district were almost all of the type of the snake and puppy sanghyang in which the object was tied to the hand of the man, along with some small bells to convey its activity by sound. Hand and object together would be smoked over the brazier, and a trembling would start in the hand. In most cases the man's eyes would remain open, and the people would say that only the hand and the object were "in trance," as in the sanghyang snake and puppy. At the end the man would be caught and might go through the

District final convulsions involving the whole body. But often even after he came to himself the effect upon the hand and arm would remain apparent for some time, the fist tightly clenched, the veins and tendons standing out prodigiously distended. I saw only two of these object sanghyang performances, the potlid, sanghyang toetoe-p, and the sanghyang kekerek. An ordinary lid to an iron pot was used in the first play, tied to the man's hand with the usual bells. The action consisted of knocking with the lid, first in a rhythmic beat on the mat where the man sat, then, as it moved about the court, knocking more and more wildly on every obstacle, on wooden benches, on an empty kerosene tin which stood across the way, finally on the head of a boy, making a big gash in the top of his head. T h e man's motion throughout was to the side, the right arm with the potlid attached leading, making leaps forward and back like the lunges of a fencer. W h e n the boy was wounded, the crowd seized the player at once in a great hubbub of excitement, shouting and struggling to control him as the final convulsions took place, so bringing to a riotous end what had been a rather dull show. For sanghyang kekerek, a more diverting one, the stage was set by piling here and there around the courtyard great pieces of firewood, five or six feet long, each weighing about fifteen pounds. T h e kekerek was a little paddle of bamboo passed through a bamboo cylinder, bound round with a bit of cloth and bells. T h e whole arrangement, measuring not more than four inches in length, was tied to the player's little finger. When the hand was smoked, it began to rotate back and forth, ringing the bells, and this motion was continued without a break throughout the performance. T h e man ran about collecting the pieces of firewood, taking up one at a time by passing little finger and kekerek through a loop of string tied round the middle of each piece. He brought the piece (rotating his hand the while) to a central spot, where he cast it on top of a rice-pounding mortar. When he had collected quite a stack, some-

hoik

Trance

one would run out and steal a piece from his pile while his back was turned and would replace it against the wall. T h e sanghyang player was supposed to know who had taken it even though he could not have seen him. He then would run after and attack the thief. The most striking feature was the sustained motion of the hand, which continued to rotate while the player lifted and carried off the heavy pieces of wood. Dr. van Wulfften Palthe, who witnessed a performance of this sanghyang, said that his impression was that the motion was voluntary when it was first begun, but became involuntary, and could not have been voluntarily sustained over so long a time (thirteen minutes). The player, Soekadi, had his eyes open and staring throughout. When at the end he leaped on top of his pile of wood and was caught, the doctor tested his pupillary reaction and found that the eyes, wide and staring right in front, did react. The right arm was completely rigid from the elbow down, the muscles all contracted and appearing enormous, much larger than the other arm. Soekadi was placcd in a sitting position, and the doctor tested the reflexes of both arms. In the left the reflex was present, in the right absent. Four minutes later the man suddenly went quite limp in all his body, but the swollen condition of the right arm, the distended, protruding veins, and the rigidity continued. Dr. van Wulffen Palthe also remarked how the man looked at it as if it did not belong to him. He said that the medical literature did not contain a description of a detachment of one member of the body such as this, the condition of the arm remaining after the man was again in normal consciousness. With massage, the contraction of the arm muscles gradually relaxed, and the reflexes reap pea red. W e have GM's reports of a number of other sanghyangs in which an object was the center of the play, sometimes a real object, like the potlid, sometimes a contraption like the kekerek, whose origin and significance remain obscure. In nearly all the performances of this type the object was tied to the finger on the plaver, with

Sanghyangs

215

little bells to sound the motion. In sanghyang sampat, for example, it was a little broom which was tied to the man's finger. He would sweep round and round in a circle. For sanghyang lesoeng the rice-pounding mortar was not a normal-sized one, but a miniature about as big as a fist, which, G M said, was made to "dance." This object also, one knew not why, wore a litde dress of cloth as well as the bells. For sanghyang teter there was a three-forked stick wrapped in cloth, also made to "dance." Sanghyang selaperaoe, whose name refers to a kind of potato, was done by two players each having a three-forked stick with a puppet of tal palm attached to his finger. T h e puppets were said to be male and female, but without any marks of identification. (One of the players remarked that he would feel like a potato when he did this one.) Sanghyang tjapah employed two little weavings made of young palm said to resemble a toeloeng. Here one obscurity was offered to explain another, for as far as I know, a toeloeng was one of the mysterious bits which went into the insides of a palm-leaf puppet called sanggah oerip (shrine of life) and used in ceremonials. Another of the mysterious constituents of this puppet gave its name to a sanghyang performance, the one called lilit linting. The palm-leaf weaving in the puppet was coiled round and round itself in a way that always suggested to me the intestines (lilit means coil). In sanghyang lilit linting nothing was tied to anyone's finger; there were two little girls who played, very much like sanghyang dedari, and two bamboos were provided for them to "coil up." G M reported they actually did climb the bamboos and danced in the air with one arm while holding on with the other. The only explanation of it that he could glean was from a woman who said she thought lilit linting meant "that they should coil around in their dancing, on the linting, that tijing (bamboo) there." G M collected six typewritten pages of verses to be sung to the sanghyang lilit linting, mostly words strung together in the Balinese lyrical manner, without sufficient meaning to be translated, or even understood by those who sang them. There

216

Seht District

was a great deal about picking flowers of various kinds, and dressing up in silken scarves, and the graceful dancing and posturing of the litde heavenly nymphs (dedari) "whose bodies are still small, so small that they should not righdy yet be doing nursing, bearing bodies." 8 At the end of these verses, the words are: Go home, go home nymphs, go home, Your yellow älken scarves flying. . . . The lady nymphs have already gone home, The singers are already quite worn out. For this sanghyang and for the other one done by litde girls, the simple sanghyang dedari, the coming-out-of-trance was not brought about by "catching." There was no convulsive fit. The children merely would go limp, as they often did during the action, and be held on the laps of assistants. They would then be put through the motions of coming out of trance by these assistants. Their hands were clapped together, they were sprinkled with holy water and given it to drink, and with a flower placed between their fingers they were made to make the reverence to the gods—the same technique as is usual for sadegs and other trancers elsewhere in Bali, doing it of their own accord. It is notable that in none of the sanghyang performances of the Selat district was the incense brazier used as a stimulant for bringing the players out of trance, but in all of them it was used for going in. Holy water was, however, always used for bringing the trancers to themselves, even when it was not apparent that it was being administered. G M found that the players were sprinkled in the house-temple, before going into trance, with holy water obtained from a High Priest. Some of this same holy water was mixed with the ordinary water used to pour upon the faces and bodies of the men in the most violent spasms. An especially complicated sanghyang, different from every other and said to be especially pingit (delicate, dangerous), was the turde one, * Dari lidong ben pengerasa, Awaki noe tjerik Tonden pantes mengempoe awak mengaba awak.

sanghyang penjoe. For this a tall bamboo, six meters high, was stuck in the ground, a crosspiece at the top supporting a sort of wheel through which ran a string reaching down to the ground at both ends. Threaded upon this string was the turtle, made of woven split bamboo, about ten inches in diameter, like a litde coolie hat. The string passed through a cylinder of bamboo in the center of the turtle, and the two ends of the string were tied to the forefinger of the player's right and left hands. The hands were then smoked, and the turtle was supposed to slide up on the string. On the only occasion when Walter Spies and G M saw this performance attempted, it was a failure. Though the player's hands trembled strongly, the turtle refused to rise. Everyone agreed that the turde had not "gone in trance," the man had. The reason, they said, was probably because the turde was not absolutely new, it had been made the day before. "This sanghyang is always pingit," said one. "The right way is to make the thing now, then use it at once." "What could have been the trouble in the making of the thing I don't know," said another. "This sanghyang is like that, extremely pingit; if it's even a little bit wrong, it won't go in trance." Another failure reported by G M was when they tried the sanghyang sembe which used two lamps strung upon a string stretched between two little dapdap trees, very much like the properties of the Bajoeng Ged£ sanghyang deling. Here the lamps took the place of the puppets, and the two men who would hold the dapdap sticks and cause them to tremble were the ones who were to go in trance. The lamps were two swinging brackets cut from a node of bamboo, supporting a little clay saucer filled with coconut oil, the burning wick floating in it—and the usual bell attached. Soon after the men's hands began to tremble, the light in one of the lamps went out. Then the clay saucer of the other one fell out. The men continued to vibrate the sticks, but when the second lamp-saucer fell, they jumped to their feet, and the performance ended with a mild convulsive seizure for one of them, a more violent one for the other.

Folk Trance Both men held the dapdap stick so tightly in their clenched fists that it took several minutes of massage to pry them loose. Here again the

SANGHYANG

Still more like the sanghyang deling of Bajoeng Ged£ was the sanghyang seripoetoet, for this was done with puppets on a string. The dolls were made for each occasion. They offer a good example of Balinese repetition of a pattern. Each doll had a body of grass, with two arms, two legs, and a head made by twisting and tying the strands. Superimposed on this figure was another, of woven tal palm, having four arms, one pair with fingers, one without, and a pair of legs, toeless. The grass doll and the palmleaf doll were tied together to make one, and through the middle a bamboo tube was passed, through which the string went. Each of the pair had a litde dress of cloth, and a bell attached. They were said to be male and female, though they were indistinguishable. No one could give any explanation of the peculiar redoubling of the dolls' bodies. This sanghyang was said to be one of the very most pingit. The grass and the palm leaf for the puppets not only might not be seen while it was being gathered, it had to come from the fields belonging to the Bal£ Agoeng (temple). The dolls had to be made in the house-temple. But most important was that they be made by a person so old that she had reached her second childhood (mehalik alit, turned little again, as an old person becomes toothless as a toothless babe). W e saw one completely successful performance of this sanghyang with Dr. van Wulfften Pal the, June 10, 1939. Walter Spies and GM witnessed another, April 13, 1938, which was a semifailure—the people said because of the "pingit-ness." For the successful performance, Darja and Soekani were the players. They took their places facing each other at each end of the string

Sanghyangs

217

people said the men had gone in trance, the lamps not. The lamps, they said, should have "danced together on the string."

SERIPOBTOBT

stretched between two litde dapdap trees. The trees here were planted in the ground, with the leaves left on—not sticks set upon an offering stand, as in Bajoeng Ged6. Each man took hold of his tree with his right hand, and an incense brazier was placed under the hand, for it alone and not the man was to be smoked. In two minutes Soekani had begun to tremble. He sat with his knees crossed, and, as his hand vibrated the stick, his whole body shook. In two minutes more, Darja also had begun to tremble, in a slighdy more jerky and irregular manner, the litde bells on the dolls began to ring, and the dolls danced toward each other on the string, bobbing up and down in unison. The people were singing: Seripoetoet I Poetoet medjaoeman, Memaling tegal wedana kapedasang, I Poetoet magondjan gondjan. Nasi pangkon, nasi pangkon, Lal£p£ padang dereman; Njai mesangkol sangkol Mer£r£n mediman dim an. Bangsing kajoe bangsing kajoe Engsoetang di dingding, Njai mantoe, njai mantoe Ja toenggang toengging. Seripoetoet and I Poetoet are marrying. Stealing—on the field the figures can be seen. I Poetoet makes a great deal of noise. A portion of rice, a portion of rice, The dereman grass is supple. She is carried, she is carried, They stop to kiss each other. The root of wood must be hung on the back of the bed. The daughter-in-law dances upside down. In three minutes more, the intensity of the tremor in the arms of both Darja and Soekani

218

Seht

had increased to such a pitch, the trees shaking so vigorously and the puppets jumping up and down so feverishly, that there did seem to be something uncanny about the forces being released. Suddenly Darja put out his left hand and with it, as well as with his right, held on to the stick. Then the trees snapped—first one, then the other. The crowd leaped to catch the puppets before they should fall. Darja fell over backwards in a violent spasm. His legs were extended and retracted in convulsive kicking motions, and his right arm likewise, the piece of broken dapdap tree still tightly clutched in the fist. Soekani's spasm took another form: he continued to sit upright, with legs folded under him, rapid rhythmic contractions appearing in his thighs, his whole body moving up and down in the vertical plane. His right hand too clutched the broken dapdap tree, the whole forearm strongly contracted, the veins standing out. As the people worked to disengage the sticks from the men's clenched hands, Dr. van Wulfften Palthe tested the pupillary reactions of first one and then the other and the reflexes in the right and left arms of both. It was found that Darja's left arm as well as his right was in a state of rigid contraction, though not so strong as the right. He had taken hold of the stick at the end with the left hand. The reflex was absent in both arms. There was no pupillary reaction. In Soekani the reflex was absent in the right arm, present in the left. His eyes were wide, in a staring gaze, and there was nearly no reaction when the flashlight was turned full into them. It took five minutes from the onset of the strong seizure until Soekani relaxed, went limp, and the absent reflexes returned. In Darja, the eyes reacted, the arms still remained contracted, especially the right. Dr. van Wulfften Palthe remarked that there was an enormous difference in the pupillary reaction of Darja, when it returned, from the response elicited when he had tested him earlier in the afternoon in the normal state; it was so very much quicker now. In a couple of minutes more, with massage and the pouring of water on the arms, the contraction diminished, and the reflexes returned.

District It was in reference to this trance dance that Dr. van Wulfften Palthe made the observations which have been quoted in the introduction (pp. 5 - 6 ) . Walter Spies described what happened when he saw the sanghyang seripoetoet thus: The two men (Darja and Darma) held the dapdap trees with their right hand, and waited. The braziers were placed under their hands, because only the hands had to come in trance. Very soon one of the hands began to tremble, the man himself looking more or less astonished at it, sometimes looking away to one side, then to another, with open eyes, and a kind of serious expression on his face. The little bells tied to the puppet were tinkling louder and louder, as the shaking of the hand became more violent. But nothing happened to the other man's hand, it was as still as a stone. The onlookers got all excited about it, and I heard them discussing this phenomenon. Funnily enough the puppet on the side of the trembling hand didn't move, but only the puppet on the side of the still hand jumped a little up and down. Something was wrong with one hand and another puppet. Somebody shouted, the song had to be changed, another part of it had to be sung. So they tried, but it didn't help at all. Both trance men looked around astonished and at each other, but the one hand remained motionless. So it was decided that it was the "pingit-ness" of this kind of sanghyang—and somebody began to unfasten the figures. It was found that the little bells, I think, were tangled, and did not tinkle enough, and so the puppets were taken off. The still stone hand went off very easily, and not the slightest sign of cramp or trembling was in it. But it took some time to unfasten the trembling one, it was cramped around the dapdap tree stem. With force the fingers were opened so that the branch came loose. But the hand didn't stop shaking and trembling for some time. The man himself could do nothing about it, he looked in astonishment at his own hand trembling and having all sorts of convulsions, even spoke to his friends holding and helping him. Very slowly, by mas-

Folk Trance saging the hand and pouring water over it, they succeeded in calming it by degrees, till at last it seemed to become quite normal. The man tried it in different ways, moving his fingers and his wrist, and rubbing it himself—and satisfied, he stood up and walked off. Somebody thought that the puppets were not all right, that somebody had seen the grass being cut as the puppets were made, or the puppets had been placed on a dirty spot, or something of

COMMENTS

OF

At various times GM talked with the villagers asking for explanations and inquiring into the sensations of the players. He questioned Darja, Darma, Soekadi (Fig. 106), Soekani among the players, and Goja and Tabanan, who served as impresarios, organizing the performances and arranging for the necessary properties. The statements he elicited are scattered through his reports over two years' time. Nobody ever volunteered any explanations. Generally when he was sitting around waiting for a performance to begin, he would slip in a question about the sanghyangs and, as opportunity offered, would ask the same questions of other individuals. For convenience, we have grouped the statements here under two headings.

Sanghyangs

219

that nature! Another possibility was that the man (Darma) whose hand didn't want to shake, was unclean in some way. . . All the people were pretty excited about the failure of seripoetoet, because they seem to like this kind, or prefer it to several others, maybe because of the "pingit- ness." [End of account by Walter Spies.]

THE

VILLAGERS

[shrine before which players are blessed in preparation for the performance], what god is that? Tabanan: I think that is the shrine of Betara Sen [rice god], and that is why we have sanghyangs here in the harvest season. Mostly when it is not the harvest season they don't go in trance (nados~). Walter Spies: Don't people here make sanghyangs at the time of pestilence? Goja: W e don't make sanghyangs here for that, because here in this district, in the villages of Doeda and Djangoe, we have never had pestilence. When it is the time of worship (atji-atji) in the Dalem temple, as now, we make sanghyangs. It begins generally on the first day [during the bright moon]. The worship in the Dalem temple is in the tenth month.

About the Gods and Going in Trance September

9, 1937

G M : As, for instance, in sanghyang dedari, sanghyang tjeling, sanghyang memedi, who is it who enters? Goja: For sanghyang dedari, dedari [nymphs] enter. If it is sanghyang pig, it is a demon (beboeta) which enters; and if sanghyang memedi, it is a memedi [evil spirit] which enters. On this I am not clear, mav I not be mistaken. April 11, J 938 G M : That god Ratoe Pande [Prince Blacksmith] whose shrine is in the house-temple

April 13, 1938 G M : Try to tell us, what is the use of making sanghyangs here at the Oesaba season? In the West, in Oeboed, people make sanghyangs when there is pestilence. What is the reason here? When the sanghyangs are made, does the rice crop increase? If you don't make sanghyangs, is there no harvest? Darma: It's because out of the past our inheritance is like that—that's why I can't explain it. Always and always we have had sanghyangs. Tabanan: It belongs with the worship of Dewi

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Sen. If it's not the Oesaba season, we don't have sanghyangs. GM (to Tabanan): What do you think, in sanghyang snake, who enters, god or demon? Tabanan: Well, my thoughts are stupid. In sanghyang snake, perhaps it's the god of the snake which enters. And the others likewise, that's the way I think of it. GM: Is there a shrine here, a place of the god of the snake? Tabanan: There is no shrine for the god of the snake that I have seen, but a shrine for the god of the sanghyang pig, there is one, on the side of the pigsty. Afril 11, 1938 GM: Here [in this district] what do people say when one loses consciousness, keraoehan (entered) or kepangloeh'? Darma and Goja: If it's sanghyang, we say nadi [become] here. Nobody says sanghyang kepangloeh, nor keraoehan either; kerangsoekan also not Here, if it is in the temple, then only it's hefangloeh. For instance if we had a ceremony (jpetirtaan) in the temple and I were going to pray and as soon as I came into the temple I went in trance (engsap [lost consciousness]), that would be kepangloeh here. And further, if anyone during his unconsciousness had tremors suddenly, that would be kepangloeh. As soon as he has lost consciousness, he has no feeling of his body, he babbles, of anything at all he may chatter. If there is a lack of a shrine in the temple, he may speak of that lack. For instance, if I from the beginning have been making use of a shrine for Ratoe Batoe Dawa and then I don't work upon it, the person in trance (sang hefangloeh) speaks of that. If someone is entered (keraoehan), at any rate this is how I think of it, that is at the desire of the gods. Yes, for example, if I nadi [go in trance], and I am told by my brother this for instance: "Go somewhere or other and pick up something or other," and then I go to seek it and there it is, that's keraoehan. And again, for instance, if I should go to the woods and at once find and pick up a stone, and my

District brother should go in trance (ketedoenan [be come down into]) and he should say concerning my finding the stone, for instance, "That's it, use it for so and so!" like that. GM: And who enters sanghyangs, god or demons? Goja: From the beginning there have been gods of the sanghyangs. And there were also demons. Those three cannot be separated—god, demon, man—they cannot be broken off from each other. The way I think of it, first the man was entered (asoekina) by the demon, and after he had been entered by the demon, then he was entered by the god. Perhaps the god of the sanghyangs is Dedari Soetji [Pure Nymph]. The Performers' Sensations All the performers questioned by GM said they had begun to go in trance as sanghyangs when they were young boys. Most of them could not remember anything about the first experience, what sort of sanghyangs it was they played, and they were not even sure where it happened—it was too long ago. Of the players we studied particularly, Soekani, Soekadi, and Soekrena were brothers, the three eldest of a family of six boys whose father was also a sanghyang player in his time. The younger boys did not play sanghyangs. Soekani was the father of five children, the eldest about eight years old. Soekadi had four children, and Soekrena also five. Their younger brothers were unmarried. Darja was the only sanghyang player in his immediate family. He was one of ten children, of whom only two elder sisters and one older brother survived. Darma, who spoke of Darja as his younger brother, was actually a cousin. These two often played together as a pair. The following comments are from a conversation GM held with Soekani, Soekadi, and Darja: )une 10, 1939 GM (to Soekani): How long is it since you began to be a sanghyang? Soekani: Since I had just become adolescent

Folk Trance (ntenek teroena) I've

been

playing sang-

hyangs . . . Maybe it's twenty years. Every time I'm smoked I just go in trance (nodes'), only my thought [may be] half-conscious (ngedap sefera). When it's the season (Oesaba) I really go in trance. G M : What is the feeling like when you are beginning to be smoked? Soekani: When I am just being smoked my ears are stopped up, hearing the song. After that I immediately lose consciousness (lalt [forget]), I feel as if I were all alone. When I am about to come to myself (eling [remember]) suddenly I am in place (megenah [know where I am]). The song I hear, but if a different song is sung to me, I am angry; I am overcome. It's like that for a moment. G M : You become all kinds of sanghyangs. What are your thoughts like, the same or different? Soekani: My thoughts are the same being any sanghyang. My thoughts are to follow the song. G M (to Soekadi): What do you feel like when you are beginning to be smoked? Soekadi: In the beginning, overcome, pins and needles, burning, like that. G M : When people sing, do you know it? Soekadi: I hear the singing, but the people who are singing I don't see. I hear the song clearly, but people talking of other things I don't hear. When the song sung to me is changed, suddenly I'm angry, my thoughts are overcome. Then I am angry with the singers. Somehow or other, often I even trample on the singers. Whatever the song that is being sung to me, when I've had enough, I just get angry.

Darja thought perhaps his first experience was being sanghyang pig. G M : What is your feeling when you are first smoked? Darja: Somehow or other suddenly I lose consciousness. The people singing I hear. If people call out, calling me "Tjit—tahl" [pig call], like that, I hear it too. If people talk of other things, I don't hear it.

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GM: When you are a sanghyang pig, and

people insult you, do you hear it? Darja: I hear it. If anyone insults me I am furious. G M : When you've finished playing, how do you feel, tired or not? Darja: When it's just over, I don't feel tired yet. But the next day, or the day after that, my body is sick. What's more, when I've become sanghyang kekfrik [lifting the firewood with the litde finger], I am quite exhausted for even five days. At another time, when they had been discussing sanghyang snake and puppy, G M asked Darja how he felt, when he went in trance. Darja: When I've already gone in trance

(nadi), my thoughts are delicious (lega pisan),

but I do not remember [am not conscious of] i t What's more, my whole body is very hot And then, if I am touched with holy water, my thoughts are like a crazy person's. Darma: When the sanghyang dies [the snake and puppy, it will be remembered, were said to "die" when the life went out of them], my thoughts are absolutely dark. When that happens, like a crazy person, I don't know anything. If I am not touched by a person or by holy water, all of a sudden I go crazy. In still another conversation: G M (to Darma): When you become sanghyang snake, what is the feeling like, and where do you feel your body [to be]? Darma: When I'm a sanghyang snake, suddenly my thoughts are delicious. Thus, my feelings (bajoe [strength]) being delicious, suddenly I see something like forest, woods, with many many trees. When my body is like that, as a snake, my feeling (rasa) is of going through the woods, and I am pleased.

GM: If you become a sanghyang tjapah [bit

of woven palm], what does your body feel like, and where? Darma: Then I feel I am in the house-temple, that's how my thoughts are. When I feel I'm

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in the house-temple, I don't know why, suddenly I'm delighted to be in the house-temple. G M : That bit of woven palm, vou feel that is your body? Darma: For instance, if you are planting rice in the fields, don't you feel your place is low? That's how I feel, low, in the house-temple. G M : And if you're a sanghyang puppv, what does your body feel like? Where do you feel yourself to be? Darma: I've never been a sanghyang puppy. My younger brother there most often becomes that kind of sanghyang. I don't know what the feeling's like. GM asks Darja the same question. Darja: I just feel like a puppy. I feel happy to run along the ground. I am very pleased, just like a puppy running on the ground. As long as I can run on the ground, I'm happy. GM (to Darma): And if you're a sanghyang selaperaoe [kind of potato], where do you feel yourself to be, and like what? Darma: I feel to be in the garden, like a potato planted in the garden. That's it, just like a potato in the garden. G M : And if you are a sanghyang monkey, where do you feel as if you were? When you're a monkey, do you feel like the male or like the female? Darma: My thoughts are like a monkey's. Then, like a monkey, I seek in the forest for fruit. As to my feeling, it falls to me to be the male, to my younger brother there [Darja] the female. G M : And doesn't it come into your thoughts to make love there in the woods, the two of you? Darma: Yes, to beat upon ( a d o e k [literally, to beat up a mixture, a slang phrase for motions of copulation]) my mate. I don't go through with the copulation, but in my thoughts there is copulation. I have the feeling that we are many there in the woods, in the forest. G M : And if you're a sanghyang broom, what's it like, and where do you feel? Darma: Like sweeping filth in the middle of the ground. Like sweeping filth in the street,

District in the village. I feel I am being carried off by the broom, led on to sweep. Before any of us had had a chance to witness many of the varieties of sanghyangs, one of the trancers, Soekadi, described a number of them to GM, making the point that it was possible for only the hand to "go in trance," or the whole body. He ascribed the difference to the "smoking." Speaking of sanghyang sembe, with the hanging lamps, he said: "The sanghyang player takes hold of the άαγάαγ branch with his right hand. Under that hand is placed a brazier, and the hand is smoked by the brazier. It also happens that even to his body he is smoked, then he altogether goes in trance. It may be that his body is smoked, it may also be that only his hand is smoked. If it is only his hand that is smoked, in a moment, if it works, only his hand has a tremor. If his entire body is smoked, his body and his hand, all together have a tremor." Again, describing sanghyang seri-poetoet, with the puppets on a string, he said: "In this also the hand only may be smoked, or it may be even to his body. If it is only the hand that is smoked, he who is smoked can converse like someone who has not lost consciousness. But if it is even to his body that is smoked, he cannot converse." Of sanghyang sampat, in which the broom is tied to the fingers, he said: "For this one also, his hand with the broom only may be smoked, or his hand with his body. It is the same, if, for instance, only the hand is smoked, only the hand goes in trance." I quote these three statements because it seems strange that nowhere did Soekadi mention a difference in intention or in sensation of the player himself. The whole matter was treated as a ritual event, in a ritual sequence. Yet in at least one instance, when GM saw the sanghyang with lamps, he noted that although only the hands of the players were placed over the braziers, one of them seemed to him to "go in

Folk Trance trance with his whole body." His whole body had trembled during the performance, and afterward it was necessary to rub him all over. On the whole, however, the introspective comments of these players are surprisingly satisfactory. They did not have the ring of the muchrepeated phrases heard in other districts, where the people were more accustomed to discussing their trance experiences and where the more specific supernatural element was stressed. Darma's saying that he felt he was being "led on" by the broom is most expressive and exactly describes what seemed to be happening in all of the tied-to-the-finger performances. T h e h y p notic threshold, the selective awareness of certain stimuli and imperviousness to others irrelevant to the situation, well-known in hypnosis experiments, is illustrated in the players' remarks about hearing the song, but not hearing people talking of other things, not seeing the singers, but trampling upon them when angered. T h e feeling of lowness, which Darma described as delightful, fits in with the whole constellation of ideas about being mounted, being sat on, and so forth, wherein the pleasurable quality of the trance experience is connected with the surrendering of the self-impulses. This is one aspect of the trance state which seems to have reverberations in the trance vocabulary in whatever country these phenomena appear—and the aspect which is perhaps the hardest for nontrancers to grasp. Being a pig, a toad, a snake, or a creepy spirit are all enactments of the feeling of lowness in a very literal, childish, and direct manner. Recognizing this urge to be Imv as the foundation of some—probably not of all —trance phenomena makes understandable what we would otherwise be at a loss to explain. What could induce a grown man to wallow around in a mud puddle and eat filth, to hop about on all fours, or to slither over the ground on his belly, if he were in his right mind? Behavior that would be a degradation—animal-like behavior which the Balinese were carcful to avoid in their current manners, and which was even institutionalized as a punishment for in-

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cest 9 —becomes in the trance state pleasurable and delightful. Of another order are the feelings described by the sanghyang players as angry, being overcome (ifcoefe, hoelen), crazy (boedoeh). These correspond to what the trancers with the kris often mentioned in other parts of Bali, the feeling of anger when they attacked the Witch. This is a particularly Balinese phrasing for the violent storm of emotion which showed itself in the convulsive fit. Very probably different cultures interpret in different terms the involuntary spasm which is basic and universal, surrounding the experience with an emotional setting in accord with the prevailing affective make-up of the people. This affective interpretation or coloring of the trance experience no doubt determines the mood in which what we have called the "somnambulistic" trance activity, the enacting of the role, takes place. T h e climax, as a cataclysmic discharge of nervous tension, might occur against a background of any strong emotion, anger, fear, sexuality—one might say that it is of the stuff of emotion, undifferentiated, and physiogieallv on too low a level to have a meaning in the terms human beings use to refer to conscious emotional states. None the less, trancers in any individual culture learn to perform from each other, they observe the trance behavior of their fellows before they ever themselves fall into trance—hence the distinct cultural patterning of the behavior in the somnabulistic states—and, when they are themselves asked to describe their feelings, they cannot help giving answers based upon their observation of their fellows and the conception of the trance phenomena accepted by the culture. T o a Balinese, apparently, a man having a convulsive fit looks as if he were angry. M M and G B have shown in a sequence of moving-picture film * Offending couples were forced, according to old custom, to crawl on all fours and to drink from a pig's drinking trough. The attitude is discussed in Jane Belo, "A Study of Customs pertaining to Twins in Bali,"

Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal-, Land-, en Volken-

kunde, 1935. Also, on February 23, 1937, during the stay of GB and MM in Bajoeng Gedi, we all witnessed the ritual penance of animal-like behavior imposed on an incestuous pair.

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Selat District

the resemblance between the temper tantrum set off in Balinese children by the teasing of an impervious mother and the "fit" the adult trance performers fall into when they attack with a kris the equally impervious Witch figure. The fit looks the same when the trancer has been wallowing in the mud as a pig or dashing about with a podid tied to his finger. Again we hear "anger" spoken of by the trancers as the prevailing emotion of the final convulsive seizure. Yet from everything we know about such attacks we would be prepared to assume that the trancer could not possibly be conscious while in its throes; that he must be judging objectively from what he has observed in others—in other words, he may indeed be angry, during the fit, but he could not know it. One can imagine a similar argument about the trance manifestations in Haiti—if we had the necessary collection of trancers' statements—but centering there on whether the basic emotion engulfing the trancer was sexual. Foreign observers tend to see a strong sexual undercurrent in Haitian trance activities. Because the culture phrases and interprets the phenomena in religious terms, some Haitians are at pains to deny any connection with sexuality. The Balinese too had ready explanations of the trance phenomena in terms of the religion. Yet the anger motif keeps recurring in the Balinese statements alongside the formal explanations. It is significant that anger, in Bali, is not one of the emotions which it is customary to demonstrate in the normal state. The Balinese people are certainly not fiery-tempered. They appear to swallow whatever resentment they may feel, to express it only indirectly, as by endeavoring to get a balian to cast a spell on an enemy, or, in extreme cases, to let it burst out after a long period of brooding and nursing of a grievance, in the abnormal attack of violence known as amok. Compared with other peoples, who express anger more readily, they would appear to be either the most easy-going, good-tempered people imaginable—or incredibly consistent inhibitors of anger. Some Western psychologists, accustomed to freer demonstration of anger

as "normal" behavior, would incline to the hypothesis that the habitually repressed anger finds a vent in the trance state, that it is at last released after being long pent up. Perhaps. W e cannot be sure that such a mechanism, familiar in our culture, would apply in Balinese culture. W e do not know whether for them it is merely customary not to show anger, or it is customary not to be angry. Certainly, beside them, Dutch, English, and American persons in Bali appear uncommonly irascible and short-tempered as a group—and have a reputation as such among the Balinese. It is not impossible that when the Balinese go in trance and have a violent fit of what they think of as anger, they are indulging in the luxury of an orgy of unfamiliar emotion. Another point of particular import in Balinese culture is the reference to flace in the statements of the sanghyang performers. One of the usual terms for the trance state in Bali is paling, that is, having lost the sense of direction. Here we have Soekani telling us that when he comes to himself "suddenly I am back in place." In his hypnosis experiments Dr. Milton H. Erickson has made a special study of the ways the subjects reorient themselves when coming out of trance. The change in orientation seems to be somehow essential in the trance state, as in the dream. I like very much Darma's description of the illusions of change of place he experiences in his various sanghyang roles—he is in the forest, in the house-temple, in the village street. The childlike pleasure he takes in these notvery-distant excursions, the simplicity of the illusion, are both touching and, somehow, revealing. The results of this entire interrogation came as a surprise to us: no one before had told us of such a transposition in space. GM had probably been instructed by us to inquire of the trancers where the feeling began in the body (kenken rasane, toer didja rasaang belt ragan beline?~). The phrasing in Balinese not being any too clear, the subject answered by telling where he felt his body to be. GM then followed up this lead, asking about the illusion of displacement in other sanghyang performances. The statements he elicited tie up nicely with Soekani's remark that

Folk Trance when he came to himself he was suddenly back in place. For the first time we have been told explicitly where the subject wandered to during his disorientation. I think there can be no question but that these villagers were thoroughly adept at the practice of trance, so much so that they were able to slip into a state of half-consciousness almost instantaneously—a state in which they would experience certain sensations and have the feelings appropriate to the role they were playing, but would be sufficiently aware of these sensations and feelings to be able to recall them later. If conditions were propitious, if it was "the season" and all had gone well with the preparations, thev might spontaneously fall into a deeper trance

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225

of which they would say, "I don't know anything," or "It is absolutely dark (jpeteng)." The audience understood well enough the possibilities of the situation and was master of a number of tricks to be played upon the subject, worthy of the professional stage hypnotist. They knew how to make a game of his suggestibility, humoring him, taunting him, and finally bringing about— if he failed to fall into it spontaneously—the convulsive attack in profound unconsciousness. Most remarkable was the inventiveness shown in all these varieties of sanghyang, the veritable spate of trance plays produced by this region, and, as GB remarked, the same freedom in the treatment, tendency to obscenity, and innocence which is characteristic of Balinese folk art.

ν

Divining in Various Districts In any case of uncertainty the Balinese would t u m to divining in order to try to clear up the difficulty. Belief in the supernatural powers of selected individuals to "see" beyond, behind, and around ordinary facts and circumstances the evidences of hidden forces operating was extremely widespread, and not confined solely to the ignorant and superstitious nor to those mystically inclined. Supernatural phenomena were quite generally accepted and realistically discussed by many persons from the highest to the lowest in erudition and among the most hardheaded and practical of the populace. W h e n KM and her husband had selected a piece of land beside the seashore on which to build their house, they were told that the Brahmana High Priest, Pedanda M a d έ Sideman, was the best person to divine for them where to dig a well. T h i s dignitary, having been duly called, appeared with his long priest's staff and with his hair in a bun on the top of his head. He walked all over the property, stopping here and there as if to listen and sense the presence of water. "Here," he pronounced in one place, "if you dig you will find plenty of water, but it will be yellow in color." In another place, "Here there is water, but it is brackish, and not fit for drinking." In a third place, "Here there will be water that is clear and fresh and sweet, suitable for drinking and for bathing." T h e Mershons, partly out of curiosity and pardy for convenience, had wells dug in all three places. It turned out just as the High Priest had said; the well with the yellow water they used for the garden, that with the brackish water was good only for scrubbing floors and drains, while the third furnished an

abundant supply of delicious clear water for drinking and for bathing. T h e ruling prince of the District of Kesiman, a man belonging by birth to the nobility and entrusted with the position of Poenggawa (District C h i e f ) by the Dutch Administration, as practical and efficient a man of action as you could hope to encounter in Balinese circles, told G M and me this story in the course of conversation: Not long before, while they were celebrating a cremation, one of the mediums connected with the temple had gone in trance and, speaking with the voice of the departed, had given instructions that they should dig in a certain place within the family courtyards, saying that they would find something of value. They accordingly dug in the spot indicated, and recovered a valuable gold ring set with precious stones, together with what remained of a black and white checked scarf. It was thought that the ring and the scarf had belonged to the grandfather of the Poenggawa, who had perhaps buried them there in time of stress. There was nobody alive who could remember ever knowing anything about the hidden treasure; they were certainly not looking for anything of the sort, and the find came as a complete surprise. To be sure, there was a healthy amount of skepticism mixed in with the general credence given to divining. Those who practiced the art were rated according to the number of their successes, and those who gave garbled, indecisive messages were spoken of rather scornfully, while of those who were more precise it was said, "It is very clear, what appears in his divining." " W h a t appears" (ngenah), the glimpse of the beyond,

Divining in Various was accepted as more or less revealing, more or less accurate, in pointing out the forces at work in a difficulty. Doubt might fall upon the validity of the message or the vision, upon the skill of the diviner in transmitting from the world of the beyond to the everyday world, but that this beyond exists was not doubted. Everyone believed that the gods and the spirits of the dead had power to express their capricious desires in the events which befell the living and that witchcraft and sorcery were practiced among men in mysterious and invisible ways. The thing was to find a technical expert in whose power to see into this beyond one had sufficient confidence to engage his services and to follow out the instructions received from him. The skeptic among the Balinese who did not avail himself of the techniques at hand for the discovering of the source of trouble was in the position of a sick man in our culture who would refuse to consult a doctor: he did not doubt that there was something the matter, that something was causing him to feel bad, he simply had no confidence in the ability of the experts, with the techniques available to them, to ascertain the cause of the trouble. It is a curious corollary to the Balinese view of life that practically no divining in Bali was directed into the future. The past, yes, everything to do with the past, the activities and intentions of those who went before, grandfathers, great-grandfathers, and more remote ancestors reaching into history, were persistently inquired into. The present received attention, especially for the solution of immediate problems. But the future? No one was concerned about it. There was no reading of fortunes, no prediction of handsome men and women to come into one's life, of sudden riches to fall into one's lap, of occasions to beware of lest disaster overcome one. The stereotyped predictions of coming epidemics which were frequendy heard in the temples as the malaria season approached were about as near as these mediums ever came to prophecy. Once when I was discussing with GM this strange neglect of the future in the communications of mediums and diviners, I asked him if

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he could think of any instance in which something had been foretold which afterward happened. 'Tes," he answered after some thought, "sometimes the mediums tell what offerings have to be given, and afterward these ofFerings are given." Diviners claimed to be able to "see" reenacted events of the past, and that more recent events were more easy to call up than those more remote. Perhaps because the Balinese are not concerned, as we are, with the perpetual urge to shape events to their will, diviners were not asked by their customers to forecast the future. The resignation of the Balinese in the face of unforeseen difficulties which would crop up to make his plans miscarry was well expressed in the oft-repeated phrases hoeoeng (it's all off, or, it didn't happen) and, with reference to what was supposed to be about to happen, doeroeng terang, doeroeng mekanten (it's not yet clear, it's not yet definite). The Balinese would refuse to commit himself when asked the when and how of any event however imminent—he would not even hazard a guess when a procession was forming as to how soon it would start or what direction it would follow. Too many things might happen to make it hoeoeng (all off). He would maintain a continuous wariness with regard to the future, a persistent attitude of "there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." Because he was not in the habit of making up his own mind beforehand, very possibly he conceived the gods as equally undecided about the events which they were about to shape. It is quite a different thing from the "it is written" school of fatalism. The Balinese faced with a problem would do his best to set up communications with the Lords of the Upper World, in order to bargain with them, and try to influence them to make their decisions about the future in his favor. The techniques employed by Balinese diviners were various, and no doubt a careful record of the practice of a hundred different diviners would show up as many individual differences in method. There was the practitioner who preferred to "dream overnight" about the difficulty of his customer and on the following day to go into trance and relate what he had dreamed.

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Divining in Various Districts

Some diviners would go into trance in their own house courts, others, even for private practice, in the temple with which they were connected. In trance, some would speak with the voices of the gods or ancestor spirits concerned, while others would possess a taksoe, corresponding to the "control" of Western mediums, who would act as intermediary in transmitting messages. There were various forms of crystal gazing, looking into a bowl of water, and so forth; and the quaintest of these was that of the fingernail, in which the seer would gaze at one of his own nails and witness a past event reenacted in

diminutive scale, a miniature shadow play of reality as it were. We have the record of two cases in which this technique was used, the practitioner treating illness in the first case and inquiring into a theft in the second. This diviner did not act as "seer" himself but made use of a child under ten years as medium, while he, the man, directed and interpreted the findings. The record of the first case was written down by KM from memory, some time after the occurrence. The second case is from notes taken down by GM and JB during the sitting.

BAL1AN SERI ADA TREATING ILLNESS CACCOUNT BY KM) The man who was ill was I Roebag who had been a very fine dancer and who had been also popular with the women. It was on this account that when he became seriously ill he thought someone might have placed a spell upon him in jealousy over some one of his feminine conquests. He had a good deal of pain in the pit of his stomach; after a period of several days a large swelling, about the size of a man's fist appeared on the stomach just above the navel. This swelling was very inflamed, extremely sore to the slightest touch and very hard. Roebag sent for us and asked our help for medicine. We sent the doctor to him who prescribed European medicine for him and left him the medicine to be taken at regular intervals. The Balinese are sometimes not easy to watch on the matter of following orders, and Roebag was a highly dramatic person so that his imagination soon was running away with him. He feared that he was being killed slowly by poison; that there were spells upon him that he could never lose and he was generally in bad condition. Seeing this predicament we took him in a car and brought him to our own house where we felt he could be better attended to. His wife came with him, and we put them in a back room but where we could watch him. We ordered that he

USING

TRANCE

was not allowed to speak to anyone from the outside; that he could take no medicine but that which we gave him; all food was to pass under our supervision so that he would not mix Balinese medicine with European with perhaps disastrous results. He became much better. The swelling had practically disappeared, and he was able to sit up a bit. He could now eat porridge, and we gave him milk to drink. Everything seemed to be moving along in the best possible manner. I was left alone in the house for one night with just the servants to watch over me. Roebag had seen no one to our knowledge for many days. His wife was so pleased that he was better that we felt she was following instructions. At about nine o'clock at night I was seated on the front terrace talking with the Balinese schoolteacher. Suddenly I saw several people coming into the yard bearing baskets on their heads and other parcels. I was somewhat amazed and asked the schoolteacher if he knew who they were or what they wanted so late. He qustioned them and found out that one woman was Roebag's mother and that she had brought with her a balian whom she wished to see her son. We questioned her as to how she thought I would let her in, and she answered that Roebag had sent for her. We questioned him, but he would

Treating Illness Through not admit it. The wife said she had not carried a message. But there the people were. I at last decided that if they gave him nothing to eat or drink and used no medicine upon his body in any form that they could do no harm to what seemed to us to be a case recovering from illness. They promised this, and the women then took all these offerings they had brought in the baskets into the house. I went first and watched everything they did. They none of them went to the bed where Roebag was lying but placed the baskets on the floor, later arranging the offerings to the gods on a table. The balian, Seri Ada, sat in respectful silence on the floor on a mat, and by him sat a young boy of about nine or ten years of age. The offerings were in place, some on the table, and another group arranged on a mat in front of Seri Ada. The schoolteacher watched all of this as he had promised to see that they obeyed my orders about not feeding Roebag anything. The offerings contained money (in Chinese cash), coconuts, rice, flower offerings. Then last of all Seri Ada sent for the black frying pan from the kitchen which he placed in front of him. He then lighted the brazier of incense and holding it in his left hand made a prayer which he offered to the gods with a flower that he wafted towards the fire in the right hand. When this chant was over, he took the frying pan, passed it once over the incense, then placed it upon the mat in front of him. The litde boy was seated by his side, and, as Seri Ada had finished with the brazier, he put that down in front of the child who gazed at it fixedly. Seri Ada then took a small clay jar which had oil in it. The oil had apparendy been in the jar [when it was] in the basket, for I did not see him put any oil into it while he was in our house. This small clay jar he passed over the brazier [while he] chanted; then, holding it in his left hand, he dipped the first finger of his right hand into the oil and proceeded to write symbols or letters on the inside of the frying pan in the center. This he repeated many times until there was a drop or so of oil gathered in the middle of the pan which had trickled off the

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long fingernail that he wrote with. When this had been accomplished, he chanted another long prayer (mantra) over the pan, then took the child's right hand and with his forefinger placed some of the oil on the child's right thumbnail. The child held his right hand firmly with his left so that the thumbnail was just before his face like a tiny looking glass. He stared at it and continued to do so for some moments. In the meantime, Seri Ada chanted another mantera (if my memory is correct). At the conclusion of this mantera he began to ask the child questions as to what place in Roebag's body the illness was coming from. It was evident that it had shown itself on his abdomen above the navel, but Seri Ada seemed to feel that some other organ inside the body had been affected and the illness was just manifesting itself there. He rose and stood over Roebag on the bed and, touching first one place on his body and then another, asked if that was the cause of the illness, naming off such things as liver, lungs, spleen, and placing his hand on different zones called off different other names which at that time fell under one name, bajoe Cor nerve strength, as I afterwards learned). The child sat gazing at his thumbnail and answered in the negative to each of these questions. The appearance of the child during this interval was one of great concentration, but he seemed very "far off" and not as though he were at all conscious of what took place about him except for the one fact of being able to hear what Seri Ada said. After some questioning of several minutes, Seri Ada came back by the child, looked at him carefully, placed more oil on his thumbnail, and sat down beside him gazing at the nail himself. I was direcdy in back of the child and stared as hard as I could at the nail to see what it was the child saw. The oil made a glistening surface to the nail that gave off a slight reflection from the small room lamps. There did seem to be some sort of cloudiness on the surface of the nail, but whether it was due to shadows or what I could not say. Seri Ada then began to ask him other questions as to what was the cause. (The schoolteacher gave

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me this information in Malay.) After several widely varied questions the child suddenly began to talk very freely though with some difficulty as though he were tired or as though what he saw was difficult to describe. Seri Ada then leaned forward where he could watch the child (and not his thumbnail) and paid close attention. I rose and stepped around behind Seri Ada to the side by the bed where I also could see the medium's face. It seemed remarkably pale and somewhat drawn and much more fatigued than when he had come. He moved his lips slowly but spoke clearly, though hesitantly. He seemed to be completely removed from any sort of consciousness of where he was or what he was doing and looked as though he were hypnotized by his own hand. He talked quite at length, though slowly, so that this procedure took some time. Seri Ada occasionally asked him a question, very softly. This continued for what seemed to me to be ten minutes—probably shorter but it seemed very long. Suddenly the child collapsed and fell back into the lap of Roebag's mother who was seated behind him. Seri Ada paid no attention to the boy but took the brazier and holding it in his left hand and a flower in his right proceeded to chant. T h e child lay still for a bit, then slowly recovered so that at the conclusion of Seri Ada's prayer he was sitting up. Seri Ada put the fire in front of him so that he was smoked and after that he was given water. ( O n this point I am uncertain whether it was holy water or whether the child asked for water from one of the women, for I was not watching Seri Ada.) Seri Ada spoke to one of the women who went outside. I think this must have been Roebag's wife as she knew where things were kept. She came back with a handful of small onions and some garlic. Seri Ada cut open two or three of them and then proceeded to rub them all over each part of the bed—the legs, the uprights, the connecting rods, the top rods, the foot, the back, and so forth. W h e n he had finished with every bit of the bed, he began on the framework of the window and did his work as thoroughly as before. T h e door came next,

and he had to stand on a chair to do the top and asked permission from the high-caste schoolteacher. With the aid of an onion on a stick, he reached the highest place and by that time the room was unbearable. H e put the onions away, and by this time the women were packing up the offerings, the boy seated by himself on the floor looking not so pale as when in trance nor so strained. Seri Ada went to Roebag, rubbed the onion on his stomach, then held his hands over the place, and chanted silently to himself for a short period. He then came back and the schoolteacher said that it was over. W e went outside to the porch for the air in the room was impossible. Seri Ada sat down, and we smoked and he talked to the schoolteacher. After a bit they asked permission to go home and left. After their departure I asked what he had said to the schoolteacher, and he said that Roebag had indeed had a pasangart (magical device) worked upon him. It was described by the child as having been put in Roebag's house shrine and had contained excrement, both human and animal, had had scorpions pinned to it and other poisonous insects. T h e thing had apparently been made in the form of a body with these insects placed at well chosen spots and the filth well smudged over. It was supposed to have been placed in Roebag's house shrine for a time and then afterwards removed and buried somewhere in his yard. Because the evil was following Roebag, Seri Ada had taken the precaution of blocking all entrances to Roebag's room with the onion smear. Roebag, who had moaned off and on during the procedure, had stopped moaning as soon as Seri Ada had placed his hands on his stomach and prayed silently. By the time the balian had gone he was asleep. I had no rest all night from the odor of onions which seemed to grow and grow in the warm house. By morning my husband had come home and was furious with me and with Roebag for letting all this happen. Roebag in the meantime seemed to have learned from his wife the import of what Seri Ada had said the night before. He now begged to go home so that they could have offerings to purify his

Fingernail

Divining

house shrine. W e let him go rather gladly and spent the day having the bed cleaned and the woodwork washed. Several days later he sent frantic word for me to please come and see him, which I did. The house shrine had had offerings made to it, but Roebag was much worse. The swelling had come back on his abdomen and was the size of a small cup, very hard in substance and with a shiny spot in the center where the skin seemed the most taut. I suggested that he carefully rub oil on this spot, for it looked to me as though

FINGERNAIL

The priest was able to fix the time of the theft as some time during the night between Friday and Saturday, for he had been in the temple late on Friday evening placing offerings in the various shrines. Next morning he felt that something was amiss, that he ought to go to the temple to see if everything was all right— he would not ordinarily have gone there on this morning. He found the two artjas (little carved wood figures of the gods) missing from the shrine in which they were kept, and, lying on the floor of the temple, their mounts, each carved in the shape of a lion. The thief was suspected of carrying off the god-figures for sale, for the old-style carvings, beautifully weathered and aged, find a readv market with tourists and collectors. Possibly he left the mounts behind because they would make the figures too easily identifiable w h e n they came up for sale. It happened not infrequendy that the sacred objects honored in the temples as receptacles of the gods' presence would be stolen by unscrupulous persons. If they could be traced, the authorities would do their best to return these objects to the temples

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the thing might burst. After I went away they did this, and the next day word was brought to me that the swelling had burst and that the force of it had shot the pus in the infection halfway across the room. I went in again to see him, and his abdomen was normal and in a few days he was out working driving his dogcart. They dug up every part of the yard and did find in the earth near the shrine what appeared to be something similar to Serf Ada's description. So they purified everything again, and the case was finished.

DIVINING

One day at the end of November, 1937, a theft was discovered in the village temple of Sajan. The gods had been stolen. The priest, who was our great friend, came at once to tell us of the loss, and we offered to help in the investigation by visiting a diviner.

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FOR THE FT

whence they came. But very often the members of the temple refused to have the objects reinstated—they had lost their sacred power, and it could not be restored to them. It was assumed that, as long as the objects retained power, it would be impossible to steal them: the gods would strike down anyone who dared to handle them irreverendy. The fact that they had been stolen would show that somehow or other the power had gone out of them. The priest told us that in this case, even if the god figures could be recovered, they would not be restored to the temple. Nevertheless, the village was anxious to apprehend the thief and gave its approval to our consulting a diviner on their behalf. The next day, Sunday morning, we had the necessary offerings prepared, and we set off— the priest, GM, a follower to carry the offerings, and myself—to walk to the village of Njoehkoening, the home of a very famous diviner known as Djero Soemboe. Up hill and down dale we went, following a footpath which led down one side and almost vertically up the other side of precipitous ravines, until, after nearly an hour of clambering, we approached this village, inaccessible to motorcars and so remote from the outside world. Even then we found that the diviner lived not in the village but quite far out in the surrounding fields, so as to be beyond the prying eyes of his fellow villagers. A wall was

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around his courtyard. The people within could not have seen us coming near, for as our litde procession filed through the gate, they turned round in surprise—not at the advent of petitioners, but at the presence among them of a white woman. The diviner, Djero Soemboe, was sitting on a pavilion almost entirely enclosed with bamboo screens. Two men were sitting at his feet, getting medicine, and two more were squatting on the ground below, waiting their tum. The diviner was a fine old man with white hair worn en brosse and a litde white beard, a round and vigorous face, and very intent "strong" eyes. He addressed us politely from where he sat. Djero Soemboe: Yes, who are you? The priest (for our party): W e are from Sajan. Djero Soemboe: What is your business? Priest: Indeed, we come for divining (ma-

pinoenas).

Djero Soemboe: Why are there so many of you? Priest: Indeed, the white lady wishes to know how people divine-for-a-loss Qmeloeasang). The diviner turned back then to what he had been doing, pouring out water into a botde for the men sitting at his feet. As he finished, he turned again to us and told us rather peremptorily to "go home." He said he could not do it this day, as it was Redite (Sunday) and we came from a westward direction. W e were very much disappointed as it was a long hard walk, we must all have looked crestfallen. But he had made up his mind (in the moment that he turned away from us to pour out the water), and he was quite firm. W e asked what day we might come, and he said after Galoengan (New Year's day, three

days off), but not on a Redite, Sanistjara, or

Wrespati (Sunday, Saturday, or Wednesday). W e fixed on the following Friday to come again. It was our impression that the diviner was afraid of becoming involved in some trouble with the official government and had seized upon a pretext to turn us down. In the old days, any offense against the ruling caste was severely

punished by those in power. Especially in the more remote districts, the Balinese would connect any white person with the Dutch Government and were apt to assume that because the Dutch were in the place of the top caste, an offense in which a foreign lady was interested would entail all sorts of official inquiries. Accordingly when we returned on the appointed day, G M and I remained outside the walls while the priest and his assistant went in, hoping to reassure the diviner that we had no connection with official circles and would not cause him any trouble. But this time we were not received at all. A woman talked to us, told us that they were sebel (unclean), as they had undertaken to prepare for a cremation. Her story seemed a little thin, and, as we questioned her, her look became more and more sly; finally, when we asked what day we might come back, she sent a child into a nearby closed building, where, apparendy, the diviner was hiding. The answer came back that we might try again in seven days. Discouraged, we departed, planning to seek out another balian. W e drove to Blakioeh and hunted up the house of the Djero Dasaran of whom we had heard. Again we were unlucky. The diviner was not at home, since it was Pasah, this time a day of the three-day week, on which it is not good to try meloeasang for lost objects. The family did not encourage us to return. They said they did not care to investigate thefts, in case they should be involved in law suits. Meanwhile it seemed to us that the trail would be getting cold, and we determined to try farther afield, since we had been so unsuccessful in our own district. W e met KM in the town of Den Pasar and asked her to suggest someone of her acquaintance there. She took us to the house of Seri Ada, who had treated Roebag's illness by fingernail divining and smearing the house with onions. His house was quite close to the center of the big town, just south of the electric plant. None the less, Seri Ada remained a true Balinese, untouched by foreign ways. He spoke no Malay, dressed casually in a loincloth, and continued

Fingernail

Divining

his practice as balian and his avocation as a wellknown top0ng-play actor, within earshot of the whirling wheels of encroaching modernity. Sen Ada turned out to be an ugly man in his middle forties, with slightly popped eyes, but with a forceful personality and great confidence in his manner (Figs. 107 and 108). He had an easy way with white people and was not in the least embarrassed by our request. He did ask that, if anything should come of the investigation and the thief be apprehended, we would not mention his name in connection with the case. He asked us to come back the next day, when he would have his "child," the medium, ready. We were also to bring with us a child from the village of Sajan who would be able to recognize the thief in the fingernail. I asked if the child would go in trance. He said no, his medium would see in the fingernail, and the child from Sajan would recognize the person, as his child would not of course know the people of Sajan. A boy or a girl under ten years old would do, he said, or failing that, a pregnant woman, for the child in her belly would enable her to see as well. Next day we came back bringing two little boys, Loengsoer, aged nine, and Kajoen, aged seven (Figs. 107 and 108). These children had been for some time attached to my household, and I had chosen them because I thought they would be less intimidated than others by the strange situation. Neither had ever had any sort of experience of trance or divining. But they were both imaginative children: Loengsoer was distinguished for his excellent drawings of dramatic scenes, and Kajoen was one of the most talented players of the children's orchestra. Seri Ada received us warmly. He began at once to ask the priest questions about the theft —what was stolen, in what temple, and on what day. He said he had never been in Sajan but had passed through there on the road. His straightforward manner was rather surprising to me, as well as the priest's direct answers, for I had always seen both the petitioner and the balian maintain a crafty secrecy during these

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preliminaries—as if to test the balian s powers of clairvoyance by having as little information as possible stated before beginning the divination. But Seri Ada was very businesslike. He would not do the "seeing" himself, his role was to direct the proceedings. During the "seeing" he managed to orient himself in the unknown village very well indeed, calling up a clear picture of the relationship of the temple, the big waringin tree, the open space (bentjingah) before the temple, the road going west from there, and the position of the ward of Baoeng, of which he had never heard. He was throughout very clearheaded, going straight to the point, keeping a firm hold on the procedure and making statements of whatever results were obtained, then posing the next question framed so as to be most helpful in clarifying the matter in hand. There was nothing in the least trancelike about him. His medium was a young girl of about fifteen, slight but with such poise in her manner that she gave the impression of being more mature (Figs. 107 and 108). He had trained her, he said, for many years, since she was a little child. There was a certain intensity in her gaze, and, when we photographed the group later, KM remarked that the girl could stare straight into the sun. She clearly had well-developed powers of concentration and could speak out very definitely when Seri Ada asked her what she saw. In contrast to her, the little boys seemed dreamy and rather dazed. Seri Ada looked very intendy at the two children, first one, then the other. He chose Loengsoer to try first "because his eyes were better." He ordered chairs to be brought and arranged around the sides of a bamboo platform on one of the pavilions in the house-temple court. He himself sat at the head of the platform and placed Loengsoer next to him on a chair, so that the child could rest his elbow upon the platform as if it were a table. Kajoen squeezed himself in behind Loengsoer on the same chair. The rest of us sat around the edges. GM had taken out his notebook and was busily

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writing down everything that was said and done. Sen Ada only gave him one or two inquiring looks but said nothing about the writing down. A daksina offering had been prepared, containing a coconut, an egg, areca nut, a measure of rice, four tjanangs, and 400 Chinese cash. Before he began Seri Ada asked me to put another half a guilder into the offering. A woman brought a small iron frying pan from the kitchen, containing a little coconut oil. This she set down beside the offering in front of Seri Ada. He took up two incense sticks and, holding them before him, prayed in ordinary language. First he asked the priest which god he should address and was told Ratoe Desa (the god of the village, whose figure had been stolen). He asked the god of the village of Sajan to help us find the god's "sitting place" which was lost from the temple. This was very quick and no nonsense. T h e girl medium, Kisid, came up behind the chair on which sat Loengsoer and Kajoen. She leaned over the back of the chair, holding with her two hands to the sides of it, but not in a tense way. Seri Ada took oil from the frying pan and smeared the thumbnail of Loengsoer's right hand. He placed the child's elbow on the table, so that the nail was held up before him, not too close to his face. "Look here in this nail," he directed, "the temple is here; try to recognize it. If the shadow moves to the north, follow it, don't let it escape, see if you can recognize it." Kajoen, sitting behind Loengsoer, could see over his shoulder from almost the same angle as Loengsoer himself. I was beside them, and I too could see the nail very well. T h e oil made the nail luminous, with reflections from the light outside the pavilion. But for me the shapes were quite static, and although I could imagine that I saw something there, for the life of me I could not see anything moving, and certainly no complete scenes, as the children soon did. T h e girl leaning over the back of the chair fixed her gaze upon the nail. It was not a look of hypnosis, only of intense concentration. In a verv few mo-

ments the children began to see things—the temple, the shrine, people. Kajoen: Look, what's that, going south? Loengsoer (puzzled): What? Seri Ada (picking up each clue and pressing forward from it): Look well now. You see the temple? Are there people? How many? Are they men or women? If it's a man, he has short hair, if it's a woman, her hair is long. Loengsoer: There's someone in the temple. Kajoen: They've already gone into the temple. Seri Ada: Have they taken the art ja? How many are they? Loengsoer: There are two of them. Seri Ada: Have they taken the artja on their head? Loengsoer: No, they're still carrying it in the hand. Kajoen: Where are they going now, Loengsoer? Seri Ada: Are they still in the temple? Loengsoer: Yes, still in the temple. Seri Ada: How many have they taken? Loengsoer: Only one. They're going north in the temple. Seri Ada: When they walk north, follow them. Are they men? [No answer.] Kajoen (suddenly): Have they come outside? Seri Ada: Is it an old man? Loengsoer: There's an old man, because his hair is white. Seri Ada (to Kisid, the girl, who had not spoken up to this time): Speak out if it's beyond [i.e., outside the frame of the picture], so they will be able to follow it. Seri Ada: Do you see now? Where have they gotten to? Loengsoer: They've come to the waringin tree. Kajoen: They're going west, it seems to me. Seri Ada: Can you recognize the faces? Loengsoer: I can't. Seri Ada: Is it a very dark man? Loengsoer: Very dark. Seri Ada: How tall is he? As tall as whom? Loengsoer: They've stopped. Seri Ada: Are thev still carrying the art ja?

Fingernail

Divining

Loengsoer: Yes. In this manner the investigation continued, the children gazing intendy into the fingernail, Seri Ada pressing them to describe what they saw. Loengsoer was slow, apparendy absorbed in the vision, deeply concentrated upon it, but not quite sure enough of what he saw to answer all the questions. But Kajoen would cry out suddenly in excitement, "To, to, to!" (Look, look, look!) as he saw the people moving about. During the course of the "seeing" the children witnessed a pretty complete reenactment of the theft—the two people entering the temple from the south, going about, approaching the shrine, climbing up, taking the artja, carrying it away, leaving the temple, stopping under the great tree ( t o wait for the road to be clear), turning west, going along the road, entering a house, going in the courtyard and to a closed building, hiding the artja, 1 wrapping it in cloth, going out again into the street. In trying to fix the identity of the thieves, Seri A d a asked again about their height. Loengsoer: It's so small [the picture], I can't see. They're both the same height. They're tall, the two of them. Seri Ada: As tall as which of us here? Kisid, the girl: As tall as Soenteroe. Look, they're going west. Seri Ada: Where are they going? D o you follow? Kajoen: Look, they're running! Seri Ada: W h a t road are they taking? Loengsoer: From the place outside the temple, westward. [Pause.] N o w they've come to the road to Baoeng [one of the wards of the village]. Seri Ada: Arrived at Baoeng, where do they take it? D o they bury it? Kisid: They're going into a house, to a closed building. Kajoen (excited): Beh! to the shelf under the 1 Because in Balinese it is not clear whether a word is singular or plural, we cannot b e sure from the conversation record whether artja refers to one g o d figure or two, a n d similarly whether a n a k should b e translated person or persons. Loengsoer stated that h e saw them take only one artja, but it might have been assumed that they carried off both together.

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eaves to hide it. . . . T h a t one's leaning over, bending way over. He's turning it around. T h e priest: Which way was it that they turned? Kisid: T h i s house is south of the road. Seri Ada: Whose house is it? Remember it! Loengsoer: They're going north now. Seri Ada: Are they taking the artja? Loengsoer: It's so very small, I can't see. Kisid: T r y to remember the man. Whose father does he look like? Loengsoer: Yes, they're going north now. Kisid: T h e artja remains hidden there, placed in a basket wrapped in a piece of white batik cloth. T h i s first "seeing" was now brought to an end. Seri Ada reached over and wiped off the fingernail of Loengsoer, saying to him, "You're no good." H e ordered him to sit on the ground and brought Kajoen forward on the chair to give him a try. Kajoen had certainly been more explosive and explicit in his statements. Seri Ada had kept Loengsoer gazing for fourteen minutes. With Kajoen he tried a ten-minute period of concentration, followed, after a minute's rest, with a further six minutes' stretch of gazing at the fingernail. At the end of this he put Loengsoer back to gazing for another six minutes. At each new "seeing" they would begin the scene again from the beginning, entering the temple, approaching the shrine, and so forth. Every time a few new details were elicited, but the "scenario" followed the same course. T h e girl, Kisid, thus was kept at her job of combined concentration upon the enacted and reenacted scene, and the direction of the litde boys' attention, for thirty-six minutes within a period of an hour. She would gaze fixedly at the nail for a moment; then, if the children did not "get" the picture, she would take the slender shaft of the incense stick and point to the spot on the nail where there was something to be identified. T h e children seemed to see clearly for a while, then suddenly they would lose the picture. When she pointed it out to them, they were able to catch it again. W h e n they were going along well, she would occasionally look

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in Various

away from the nail for a time, looking off into space as if thinking of something else, and they would continue to follow the scene being enacted. While she was concentrating upon the nail, there was a fixed, intent look in her eyes. But when she would look away the expression of intentness was not there—sometimes she looked at me when I was staring at her. It was as if she had to bring the children to the vision by her own concentration, and, when they were well started, she could relax for a moment and let them go on with it. During the seeing I walked around to the other side of the platform to watch from there the children's faces. KM was watching from that side throughout the session. We agreed that the children would fix their attention for a time, and, when things began to happen, they would watch with great interest as if they were witnessing a play. Then suddenly their attention would wander. Kajoen, who was the best "seer" of the two boys, looked away right in the middle of a scene, and, when he looked back at the nail, he could not find it again until the girl pointed it out to him. KM said she noticed dark circles appearing under his eyes at the end of about five minutes' concentration. Once he gave a deep sigh while he was watching. The girl also sighed twice, once near the beginning of the s6ance and once just before the last attempt, when Seri Ada announced he was going to try once more. Beyond this there was no sign of exhaustion in any of the mediums. Seri Ada, meanwhile, sat upon the platform in the most casual and informal manner imaginable. His legs were spread, and he leaned up against the headboard. He had taken off his headcloth because it was a very hot day. His loincloth slipped down around his waist, exposing his bare brown torso. He was anything but the picture of the aspiring and self-conscious clairvoyant who hoped to enhance his prestige by putting on a show and aping the mannerisms of the Brahmana Priests. His own performance was the most impressive for the frank cooperative spirit in which he tried to inquire into the

Districts

mystery and for the amazing efficiency and quickwittedness with which he controlled and directed the entire investigation. Never for an instant did he allow the threads to slip through his fingers. And there was throughout the investigation no wandering of his attention from the matter in hand. When the smaller of the two little boys began to look into his own fingernail, he saw, and announced that he saw, the people just entering the temple. The girl, trying to make him recognize the thieves, pointed out the face, even the nose of one of the figures. Our village priest joined in, putting questions to the child, and Seri Ada pressed him to name the person. For a time the child just sat gazing and said nothing. The priest: If he really took it home with him into his house, you must be able to recognize him, if it's a man from Baoeng. Seri Ada: Where has he got to now? Kisid: Recognize the man. Who is it? Seri Ada: In his shape does the man resemble anyone from Baoeng? It is certain that that man took it [the artja] to the shelf. Kajoen is silent, gazing. Seri Ada: This one only stares. Who does it look like? Kisid: Who is it? Who does it look like? If it looks like someone from Baoeng, say so. [Kajoen still says nothing.] Oh, here they're going south outside the temple in what we saw before. Here there's a house two doors down from the north. Now they're already gone in, proceeding eastward. The priest: Is the bale bandjar (meeting house) there? Kisid: The bale bandjar is south of this. Seri Ada: Tell him, the boy, where the bale bandjar is. [The girl points it out to Kajoen, on the nail.] In this case the theft is already a long time past. If one seeks today what was lost last night, one gets it. The priest: This you say was wrapped in unused cloth, white batik, is that right? Are the men still there? Kisid: The men are still there.

Fingernail

Divining

Seri Ada: Tell him where the bale band jar is, Kisid. ( T o the boy): Do you see the bale bandjar? Kajoen: Now, here it is, the bale bandjar. Seri Ada: This man is from Baoeng. But it is not possible to recognize him. [He wiped off the nail of Kajoen, to give him a little rest.] Now, let's talk a little while first. This child hasn't been able to recognize him. Kajoen: In size, he's like I Tapak in Baoeng. His height is just the same. He's just the size of I Tapak. Seri Ada (taking more oil and again smearing the fingernail of Kajoen): Now let's be sure, is he I Tapak, or not? [The girl had to take the incense stick again and, pointing, help Kajoen to find the image.] At what time did he take the artja, did he take it at midnight? Is he still there the next evening? How is it, Kisid? Kisid: What appeared a little while ago was the day before in the middle of the night, what appears now is the evening of the next day. ( T o Kajoen): Recognize this. Look, there's the face. Remember whose face is it? Is it the face of I Tapak, or whose? T h e priest (to the other boy): Loengsoer, try to recognize the face. Seri Ada: This is the day when it was taken, and the following day. Counting from five days before Galoengan, doesn't that make eight days already [that it's past]? ( T o the boy): Whose face does it resemble? Does it look like I Tapak? ( T o the rest of u s ) : I have been through Sajan, but I do not know the ward of Baoeng. Kisid: Where is the country of Sajan? T h e priest explained where our village lies. Seri Ada (to the boy): How about that other one? Can you recognize him? What's the face like, is it round, is it long? Both little boys said they could not be sure, the figure was too small. They did not know who it was, and, if they saw the man again, they would not be able to recognize him. Ί can't do it," they said, "the face is too, too small." Seri Ada brought this trial to an end, and we sat talking for a quarter of an hour,

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discussing the details which had been brought out, the priest and Seri Ada together trying rather unsuccessfully to reconcile them. Seri Ada: These children, because they're small, don't dare to be sure [that is, make a definite accusation]. What about this I Tapak, where is his house? T h e priest: It's a long way off, to the north, in Baoeng. Seri Ada: Is this I Tapak very dark skinned? T h e priest: No, he is very pale skinned. Seri Ada: They don't know the name of this man, that's why they can't tell us. That's the way it is with litde children, they don't know people's names. J B : If you should see him again, would you recognize him? Kajoen: If I saw him, I wouldn't know him, because it's night. Seri Ada: If we had divined for this on the day that it was lost, it would have appeared. The person who took it has appeared, but it isn't known who it is. If only he could have been recognized by the children, you could have taken the man first and then gone on to seek the object. K M : Does today appear? Seri Ada: What appears there is the day eight days past, together with the day seven days past. T h e priest: Did the people come from the west, or from the south? Kajoen: They came from the south. J B : Would it be better to bring a child from Baoeng? The priest: If you took a child from Baoeng, surely he would be unwilling to say who it was who stole the object. [The feeling between the various wards of the village was not too friendly, but a member of one ward would be reluctant to accuse a fellow ward member.] Seri Ada: Aren't there many people who belong to this temple? The priest: Very many. The head used to be Ida Tjokorda Rai [a prince]; now it's the Bendesa [a village official]. But Tjokorda Rai still "is seated" [that is, lives and worships] there.

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T h e priest: Perhaps they haven't sold it yet, and it's still hidden. Where is it that they have hidden it? Kisid: This is two houses down coining from the north. Sen Ada: A little while ago when they were under the waringin tree, did they stay long there? Kisid: Yes, they waited until the road should be clear, and then they went ahead. They decided to try Loengsoer once more before giving up. He was brought forward on the chair and his nail oiled. T h e girl, Kisid, helped him to find the image by pointing with her little stick. Kisid: Look, there's the gutter [along the edge of the road]. T h e priest: In the house into which they went, were there many people? Kisid: There are two people, those are the thieves. T h e priest: Besides them, who else is there? Kisid: There's a woman. She is not standing up, she's asleep. Loengsoer: Is that at the very point of the stick? Kisid: Don't you see her? Kajoen (breaking i n ) : Look, look, look, they're going. Kisid: South of the kitchen. Sen Ada: Well, the children saw it, but we don't know what the names are. Thus frankly Seri Ada admitted that we had failed in our purpose. He apologized profusely to us, repeating that it would have been better if we had come to him the day after the theft. T o the priest he said, "Beg pardon, priest, but if you should be lucky and the object should come to light (ngenah, appear), please don't bring it home to me. Once some people came to divine here from Padang Tegal, and they were successful. The person who was making [the patient] ill was discovered, and then I went there to give medicine." Apparently he got into trouble over this case, for the person who was "making ill" subsequendy died in the river, and

there was an investigation by the authorities. He did not need to say to us that he was innocent, that his "giving medicine" had been in the form of a cure for the patient, not of an attack on the one who was "making ill." He did say, "If anyone is struck by bebai (small evil spirits in the power of some individuals, sent to their enemies to make them ill), it is easy to discover it, and also to seek here by divining what has happened in the past." He was perfecdy willing to put to use his powers of divining and his knowledge of "medicine" and counterspells to assist his petitioners in solving their difficulties. But he did not wish to be held responsible by the authorities if anything happened to the thieves and malevolent persons who might be discovered through the techniques at his command. Driving home in the car the priest was silent the whole way, saying nothing about the divination and what he expected to do about it. But the next day he came to tell G M that he had gone down to Baoeng to try to find the house described in the children's vision. He said that north of the bale bandjar there was only one house on that road, whereas the description had been given as of two houses up. South of the bale bandjar were many houses, "But if you went two houses down, that was the house of Pan Warsa, who had never been of the way of stealing, for all time." T h e priest made no accusations, and no thief was ever apprehended; the village let the matter drop. G M asked the two litde boys privately the next day what their impressions had been of the whole business. They told him that they really had seen two people, but very, very small. They said it was just as when you looked into one of your playmates' eyes, you could see your own reflection there, "the shadow of yourself, very very small, that's how it appeared in the fingernail." Moreover, the people weren't very clear, because it was night. Both of them had the feeling, G M reported, that it was like looking at a film which has not yet been washed, that is, a negative.

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A BABY'S

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SOUL-DEWATAN

August 24, 1937 Poegig and Rantoen were man and wife, householders in the village of Sajan. The wife, Rantoen, came originally from the village of Padangtegal, six miles away, and her husband, Poegig, from Klandis, about seventeen miles away and in another district, close to the big town. For several years they had served as cook and houseboy in my house in Sajan, and eventually had married and bought themselves a house site in the village. Each however preserved strong family ties with their villages of origin and frequendy returned to them for family celebrations and temple ceremonies. Their first baby died in its early infancy. It was the custom in Poegig's family always to consult a diviner after the birth of a child in order to find out which ancestor's soul had returned to life in the new baby. In Rantoen's village and in Sajan this consultation was not considered obligatory but was often resorted to if the infant seemed to be failing in health or if there were any other signs of the gods' displeasure. When the diviners set up communication between the world of the living and the "Upper World," they were able to inform the parents not only which soul it was that had returned to earth, but also what offerings this soul had promised the gods for the privilege of being allowed to return to earth. It became the responsibility of the parents to fulfill these obligations incurred by the soul in order to ensure the welfare of the child. I had been away from Bali at the time of the birth and death of Rantoen's first child. I learned that they had had the divining to find the child's soul (ngaloeang) before its death. The diviner consulted was a woman, belonging to the Goesti caste, who lived in a village a few miles north of Rantoen's home village. She had gone into a violent trance and had announced that the baby was the incarnation of one of its father's grandfathers, the baby's great-grand-

father (koempi'). This was the ideal reincarnation, the return in the fourth generation. Curiously enough the term koempi in Balinese means either great-grandparent or great-grandchild, a reciprocal term of relationship reflecting in its usage the close identity, almost interchangeability of the very old and the very young, the newly dead and the newly born. Rantoen's second child, a son, was born in Sajan. On the morning of the third day after its birth the end of the umbilical cord had dried up and fallen off (feepoes -poengsed^), and the household was busy preparing the necessary offerings. The mother was walking about the courtyard, very happy that the dangerous first three days were past. Men Gondjo, a friend of the family and an accomplished offering maker, was there helping with the offerings. Rantoen's mother and Poegig's father had come from their distant villages to be present for the event. Also calling at the house that morning were the village priest and another neighbor. When I came in, they were discussing the visit to the diviner to determine the baby's soul. Poegig's father and Rantoen's mother were going to set out in a few minutes to walk to the village of Tebongkang, where lived the diviner whom they had consulted before for the baby that died. Poegig said he was anxious to see if it was the same soul that had come before. A wise man of his acquaintance had said that the child who died must come back again. Men Gondjo suggested that they try a balian in Dέwatan, an adjoining village, whom she had twice visited successfully. Rantoen and Poegig asked what sort of balian this was, if she went in trance. Men Gondjo answered that it was the same kind as the one they had visited before, that she went in trance and "her own god speaks." The priest then expounded to all of us that there are three kinds of balians: balian

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ketakson, who go in trance, also called balian siksik; balian tenoeng who use 'letters" (sastera); and balian ngbigngingan, who speak but do not lose consciousness. He added that the speech, the message, should be the same, whatever balian one consulted. Rawi, the neighbor woman, clinched the argument by remarking that the diviner in the nearby village did not require a sesantoen offering and was therefore cheaper than the one they had intended to consult Rantoen, surprised and pleased, promptly decided upon the one in D£watan, "because it was nearer." When I asked Poegig what his opinion was, he said, 'Terhaps it's better to go to D6watan, because we already know what the other one said, and we'll see if this one agrees." After a while we set out, neither of the child's parents nor the child itself, but its father's father only representing the family. At the last moment Rantoen's mother decided not to go but to let Men Gondjo go instead, as she knew the way. GM and I went along only to see what happened. The balian was not at home when we arrived. She had gone out to work in the garden. Her daughter received us, and Men Gondjo introduced us as "people from Sajan, who have come for divining." We sat chatting while a child went to fetch the balian. Men Gondjo made conversation about a mutual acquaintance of hers and the girl's, who had been married, but carefully avoided any mention of our purpose, the matter for which we had come to divine. During the talk the girl asked suddenly straight out if it were a baby we came to divine for. Men Gondjo answered yes, but no more. She was very canny and would not for anything have given more than this away. Poegig's father, meanwhile, was staying shyly in the background, examining the fighting cocks in their baskets, and acting for all the world as if the whole affair had nothing to do with him. The talk turned onto a rare flower growing in the house-temple and about an old woman who had died. After some twenty minutes the balian arrived. She seemed a very normal sort of woman, about forty or forty-five, who looked you straight in

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the eye and only wanted to get on with the day's work. When she had greeted us and asked us to chew betel, she said, "What's your business?" Men Gondjo answered that we had come for divining. "Have you had your bath? Better go and change first so we can hurry up a little," she suggested. The balian, taking the hint, went to fetch a dipper of water from the kitchen. She washed her hands, slipped into fresh clothes, oiled her hair, washed her hands again. Then she took coals from the hearth to light the coconut husks for the offering, and after this she washed her hands once more. Yet there was nothing compulsive in the way she washed her hands—rather it seemed just a part of the routine procedure. The woman seemed thoroughly competent and assured in what she had to do. We were asked to take places on the "speaking platform" (baU fengeraoesan) in the housetemple, the balian taking the place of honor, Men Gondjo, GM, and I at her feet, Poegig's father remained down on a still lower level, on the floor of the court. The offerings we had brought were spread out with the incense brazier and water jars, the balian's equipment. Men Gondjo asked if the money in the offering were correct—33 Chinese cash, (less than 5 Dutch cents). The balian said that was the customary amount. She removed the coins and put them on a shelf behind her, where there was already quite a pile of cash, reminding one of a housewife's store of pin money from the sale of her picldes. She had put fire into the brazier and sprinkled the offerings. She passed her hands rapidly in the smoke of the brazier, closed her eyes, and began to pray. She began with a long aspirated "Ih—h!" in a humming tone, followed by a recitation, addressing the gods and calling them by name in a singsong voice. (I should have called it a song, but GM would not agree, because, he said, there was no meter.) Balian: Yea, Lord Gods, and also Lord God Siwa, we ask for mercy, we beg for mercy. Yea, we greet you, Lord Siwa, Lord of the Great Mountain, Lord of the Mountain Sari, Lord of

Finding

a Baby's Soul

Nataran Agoeng, Lord Poetjak, Lord Great God of the Middle of the Sea, Lord Grandfather (Kompiang), Lord Small Flower, come quickly. She prayed thus for a minute and a half, then her voice trailed off in an indefinite "oh—h." There was a slight pause, and she began to speak again in a small voice, as a medium. Balian: Here are your subjects asking for utterance. They beg for banghet [euphemism for the divining], yes, they from whom the demand comes, well, now, if it's like that, the one for whom the demand is made is male, and, now, it's on behalf of Balinese people that it's asked, and they don't know anything. [In this garbled message she has indicated that the baby is a boy and that it is not the child of the foreign woman. She has also shifted from addressing the gods to rendering their cognizance and back again, without a break.] Men Gondjo (supporting her): Indeed, we are stupid people. That is why we are begging for utterance. Balian: The one for whom it is asked is male, he is already purified [by cremation, and so forth, the necessary ceremonials to be performed for the dead soul before it can return to earth]. He is already pure from his emergence (pewid;ilan [emergence from heaven, that is, birth]). Men Gondjo: Whence is his emergence? Balian: This one emerges from the male line [of the family]. He is pure already, he is already pure, he emerges from the fifth step [that is, five generations]. Men Gondjo: Yes indeed, and where is this male line?" [She wants to see if the balian can name Poegig's village.] Balian: It is from his ancestor temple (pemoegeran). Men Gondjo: Yes, it is because I do not know, where is his ancestor temple? Balian: Don't you know the ancestor temple either? It is the ancestor temple of the male line. Men Gondjo: Who is the incarnating spirit CSang Noemadt), and is he already pure? Balian: Now, the incarnating one already has commitments (sesaoedan [promises made to the

241

gods]), but do you intend to discharge them? If you do it, the little child will live long. If you don't intend to do it, he's going back where he came from. Here, these are his commitments: one set of soetji offerings, one djetimpen offering, a four-legs [small pig], the money to go with four-legs thirty-three, to be paid off at the six months' birthday, and if it's not possible then, it can be put off till later. Men Gondjo: Well, all right, but I must insist, where does this male line come from? Balian: From the male line, from the man. Now if you expect to do it, this is the place, from the temple of origin. I will explain: the one who is incarnated is I Serining, already pure. [If you must put off the offerings], ask for time from the temple of origin at a distance. The one who has animated ([mijang) the child is called I Serining. If you are going to do it, pay it off on the birthday, but from afar. [Offerings may be made in any temple to a head temple at a distance, dedicating them from afar.] Dedicate the offerings from afar, from the ancestor temple, from the temple of origin. The temple of origin is already swept clean, there is no heir [remaining in that place to keep up the house-temple of five generations ago]. Men Gondjo (rather crossly): That's not true. (To Poegig's father): Is it? Balian: This, this, from asking for utterance. Now it has been spoken that the emergence is from the male line. Men Gondjo: Where is the place of the male line? Balian: You are very stupid. Don't you know the male line? Now I will make it clear, it is the male line from the temple of origin. [Pause.] No, what more do you want to ask? Where to go to look for the male line? From there you send word, you let the gods know. Don't you know that? Men Gondjo (somewhat subdued): Yes, indeed, I'm stupid, I know nothing. But where is the male line, on that I am begging utterance? Balian: Whatever you want to ask for there, asking for time, ask for it at the temple of origin.

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Men Gondjo: I insist upon saying to the gods, try to say more, where is the place of the one who has been incarnated? Balian: Now what about the one who has animated [the child], is there no male line? The male line is from the temple of origin, ask for time there, it makes no difference. This is from the sprouting [living] emergence from the male line. Men Gondjo (impatient): Male line, all right, male line. Where is the place of that male line? Yes, I do not know, where is his village? That is what I am asking of the gods. Balian: This is from the emergence, from the male line. The name of the one who has been incarnated is already clear. Let the one for whom the utterance is asked beg for time there. Men Gondjo: What god is speaking now? Balian: God, don't you know god, which ancestor temple, so that you don't know the male line! Go ask for time at the ancestor temple. Now, then, what more have you to ask, the Lord God wishes to stop speaking. This one has made promises in order that he may live long, he wishes to live long. The promises are . . . [Here she repeated the offerings listed above.] Throughout the interrogation Men Gondjo had been very firm, not the least timid, even daring to contradict the medium when what she said was wrong. She had begun by speaking politely, in the high language, but once she got into it, she forgot and relapsed into customary low Balinese from time to time. The phrase, 'Tes, I am stupid," is customary ritual parlance to a god, a sort of mental gesture of subservience. Men Gondjo really thought she was being very clever, pitting her wits against those of the medium. The father of Poegig took no part at all in the interrogation except to answer Men Gondjo when she referred to him. The balian showed signs of being troubled when Men Gondjo pressed her too hard. She would put her hands into the smoke of the brazier again and rub them up and down on the surface of the offering stand before her. She kept her hands lying on this offering stand, and, when

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a difficult question was asked of her, she would begin again to rub the edge of it, as if that would help her to bring out the right answer. When she was ready to come out of trance, she picked up a flower from among the offerings and sprinkled them with holy water, at the same time singing the prayer in the singsong voice, as at the beginning. She asked the gods to make holy the water to be used for purification (pengcloekatan). The balian turned round then in her place, out of trance, looked inquiringly at Men Gondjo, and asked in her normal voice: "How was it? Did you get what you asked?" Men Gondjo relaxed and told all. She said that this man here, Poegig's father, was from Badoeng district, that his son worked for me in Sajan, that it was the child of this son about whom we were asking. She said that in the divination "there was talk only of its coming from the male line, but that nothing at all was said of where the incarnating spirit came from." The balian, somewhat nettled, answered: "What more do you want? You asked for divination, and it has been spoken, even as to the one who has become Qmetedja'), it has been spoken." GM asked her what god "was seated" there, that is, to what special god she owed her power. She said it was the god of Dalem Gedέ, a temple of Dέwatan village. When he asked her what god or gods had spoken during the siance, and how many of them there had been, she said she could not say, for she was not conscious during the talking. She poured some of the holy water into a jar we had brought for the purpose and gave it to Men Gondjo with a piece of garlic that she passed in the smoke of the brazier, telling her to have the child drink of it five times and be five times sprinkled with it. Before we left we asked for her history, how she had become a trance practitioner, and how long she had been doing it. She said she had been ill and had gone to consult a diviner in P£dj£ng. There it was told that she was being punished (kesisipan) from on high, that she should have the "speaking pavilion" built in her house-temple and begin to practice. First

Finding

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she had to ask permission from the priest of the temple of Dalem Gede, and the Bendέsa (village official). All at once petitioners began to come to her. She said she thought it had all happened about four months previously. Men Gondjo and GM argued with her, Men Gondjo affirming that it was longer ago than that when she had first come to her for divining, and GM insisting that from the look of the wood the "speaking pavilion" must be two or three years old. This vagueness about time past was not abnormal in Bali, rather it was just what one learned to expect in the answers to one's inquiries. Later I asked GM why he thought it was that so many trance practitioners, like this one, were ill first, and then began to go in trance on the order of another person in trance. He said perhaps the gods made them ill so they would know about it (know that the gods wanted them to serve as intermediaries). He said, for example, if he had had enough to eat at home, he would never have looked for a job, and so he would not have had the job he had then. On the way home they all talked excitedly about what had been said at the seance. Poegig's father told us something that he had refrained

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from mentioning in the presence of the diviner: that the name I Serining, supposed to be the reincarnated soul, and male, was in his family the name of a woman. We went straight to Rantoen's house, to tell the mother and father of the child what had been revealed. There the discussion continued, everyone exclaiming over the reincarnation being such a long way off, "five steps," though this is only one generation further than the usual one. Nobody showed any signs of not accepting what the diviner had said. Men Gondjo explained that she had dared to go on insisting about the place, because she wanted to see if the balian could say that it was from Badoeng. Rantoen asked what the offering commitments were, and when she was told she said, "Very little!" During the conversation Men Gondjo mentioned that it is possible for there to be one hundred and eighteen incarnations in a child. This is a curious clicl^ which we had met before—MM already had the record of a child with one hundred and eighteen incarnations in him—and one which we are so far unable to explain. By the next morning they had decided to have the divination all over again.

SOUL—KLANDIS

August 27, 1937 The following morning when I went to the house Rantoen told me that they had decided to ngaloeang (divine for baby's soul) once more in Badoeng, because the one at D6watan was not correct. The plan was for the father of Poegig to ask a High Priest to indicate a favorable day, and then to go home to his village and consult the diviner there. As it happened that there was nobody from Sajan in the house at the time, the family could speak freely about their dissatisfaction with the balian who had been recommended by the Sajan people. Poegig's father said that the diviner he wanted to consult was •perekoelit (title used for a medium attached to the temple)—the emphasis he gave it was as if

he had said, "This is no country doctor, but a specialist." Rantoen's mother said it was a shame that I had not had a chance to see the one she wanted to ask in Tebongkang. "She goes like this," whereupon we were given an imitation of a balian in a violent trance, crying out, "Wha! Wha!" lifting her arms, and throwing her body about. Rantoen's mother suggested that such a performance was more convincing. It was true that none of us had been very much impressed by the quiet, unspectacular ways of the lady in Ddwatan. By that afternoon they had changed their minds again, decided that it was not necessary to ask for a favorable day, that two days later

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would be all right. Accordingly on August 27, when the child was six days old, G M and I went to the temple in Klandis where the divining was to take place. The diviner was the priestess of that temple, a woman about fifty years old, not a scholarly person, but one of those voluble, energetic older women whose whole life seems to be bound up with the making and dedicating of offerings to the various gods at their various shrines. Her private practice was conducted in the temple itself, not in her own house, which was next door. She knew intimately, of course, all the members of Poegig's family, since they were members of the same village ward. W h e n G M and I arrived, she was in the temple seeing to the preparation of offerings for a festival to be held there the next day. She had just had a bath, her body was still wet. She oiled her hair, dressed herself afresh, put a flower in her hair, and, going to one of the shrines, took down a holy water container and blessed herself. At about a quarter to seven Poegig's father came in, followed by three women of his family, bearing offerings. The only stipulation this diviner made was that it should be after dark. Poegig's family had decided to take advantage of the consultation to inquire also about the soul of another baby, recendy born to a cousin of his, and to ask the gods again about a little boy of their household who was crazy. In this way, when communication was set up with the gods and the deceased, they might ask about all the questions which were on their mind— rather like the whole family gathering round for a long-distance telephone call. T h e priestess received the petitioners cordially, invited them to sit and to chew betel. She spread mats before the central shrine, and upon these the women arranged the offerings. They were somewhat more imposing than those we had taken to Dέwatan and were set on two stands. Besides these were two more stands covered with uncooked rice upon which lay 66 Chinese cash. This was the pis penjiksik (divining money). T h e priestess, with a young girl who was acting as her assistant, set out her own holy water vessels, brazier, wine and leaf-cups for libation. As

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she did this she asked casually of one of the women, the mother's mother of the second child to be divined for, 'Is it your own child which has just come? What about the baby? I don't know, I never go anywhere, how should I hear of it?" As a matter of fact probably very little goes on in that village that she does not hear of. But everyone accepted this remark for what it was worth, and we setded down for the ceremony. It was by now quite dark in the temple court, only two litde oil lamps illuminated the pavilion where the work on the offerings was going on, and a third hung from the shrine before which we sat. All of us huddled near to the priestess, a cluster of crouching figures in the center of the empty court. The priestess began by pouring a libation into the leaf-cup, lifting it, intoning a prayer, and pouring it out on the ground beside her. Priestess (introducing the petitioners to the gods): Here, Lord, are your servants, who come from south of the river [a trance-talk clichd], who come near, to sit at the feet of Lord Biang Agoeng (Great Mother), be pleased, Lord, to speak to your subjects. She poured another libation and made a reverence. Priestess: Lord Biang Agoeng, Lord Ngoerah, Lord Sakti, Lord Apit Lawang, Lord Mas Djati, here I offer you tjanang offerings, that you may be pleased to speak to your subjects from Bali, who beg your mercy, asking for utterance. Here she cleared her throat loudly. This was a special mannerism of hers, associated only with her trance activity. From this time onward all her speech was interpolated with the loud, rasping sound of this violent throat-clearing, something between a growl and a grumble, very sinister in its effect, and reminiscent of the animal-like sounds made by some of the other trancers. For twenty minutes she continued in this manner, praying long prayers, calling all the gods by name, making reverences, and executing a series of ritual acts: putting incense in the brazier, lifting it in her right hand, taking a flower, smoking it, holding it ritually between her two hands as she prayed, putting her hands

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into the smoke of the brazier, rubbing them of the water on her face and over her hair. Settogether, taking another flower, making another ting down the bowl, she slapped her thighs reverence, another libation, and so forth. So it again, moaning loudly, put her hands into the went on, a steady stream of prayer pouring from smoke, snuffling, belching, and groaning all at her lip>s, interrupted only by the loud exag- once. Then she made a noise with her mouth, gerated sound of the clearing of her throat. suggesting she was thirsty, and in response to I noted after four minutes of uninterrupted this the girl poured out another libation and prayer: "She is talking herself into trance." spilled it upon the ground. Six minutes after The attendant women, meanwhile, had begun she had begun to show the first signs of trance, to chant the kidoeng, as they do at the big temple she spoke. stances when the group of mediums is going Priestess (addressing first the god Biang into trance. When she had called the names of Agoeng, the Rangda of the temple, then shifting all the gods, their ministers and secretaries, she to speak as the god): Stand up Biang Agoeng, informed them what offerings had been brought, here are your subjects begging for utterance, be enumerating them carefully—eggs, money, pleased, Biang Agoeng, to speak to them. (As cakes, fruit, and peanuts—sufficient. She seemed the god) Come, come, what have my subjects to be running down. Then she stopped praying come to me about? and repeated in silence the whole sequence of Poegig's father, Pan Poegig, got up at once ritual gestures—hands in the smoke, reverence, from where he had been sitting merged in the sprinkling of offerings, pouring of holy water, group around the priestess, and moved to a place libations, hands in the smoke again, another immediately behind and a little to one side of reverence—punctuated only with the sound of her, answering 'Tour servant," leaning forward the clearing of the throat. At last she setded her- from the waist with his hands joined before him, self, dropped her hands in her lap, and closed in the attitude of a subject addressing royalty. her eyes. Within one minute she had begun to Pan Poegig: Indeed yes, your servant is here sway slighdy, her head nodding, her body rock- at your feet, come into your presence on behalf ing, forward and back. There came from her a of one of your subjects, Lord God. big moan like a groan, but with the mouth tight Priestess (to the god again): W e obey the will shut. More moans, ending in a cry, "Yih!" as of Dalem, may you be pleased Lord God to speak she slapped her hands twice hard on her thighs to your subjects, Lord. (As the god) Well, and lifted them slowly before her up over her what is it, what have you come about, what do head, the fingers intertwined. She brought her you want? (To the god) W e beg your favor, hands down again, slapping her thighs again, the Lord God's servants beg to remind Biang emitting short-breathed groans and grunts, which Agoeng [of their existence?] died down gradually. The girl, her assistant, Assistant: Indeed, Lord, there is an inquiry, came to sit beside her. She poured out a libation, indeed, this one begs to ask who has been inspilled it, then offered to the priestess a bowl of carnated (sane noemadi, sane mepewajangan) water. The girl bent very low, offering the in his child. bowl with a ceremonial gesture, and whispered, Priestess: North of the river. Now, Lord "Lord!" The priestess' head was still swaying Agoeng Dalem Tangkas [she clears her throat], from side to side. She dipped the fingers of her it is said to you, may the incarnating spirit right hand into the bowl (ritual hand-washing). Csanghyang •pewajangan) not be stopped being The girl poured out the water, made another seated on his base, in his god-figure (arij'a [relibation, filled the bowl with water again, and fers to the child]). [This means, the spirit having offered it to the priestess. Sighing and grunting, found a place in the body of the child, as gods the priestess took it in her hands, passed it in are in the figures which represent them, may he the smoke of the brazier. She dashed a little be allowed to remain there, that is, may the

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child go on living]. Now, Biang Agoeng Dalem Semawang, there is a subject of Biang Agoeng who is begging for communication (mapinoewas), who is it who is incarnated in the grandchild of your servant Pan Poegig? Be pleased, my little sister. W e obey your wishes. More moans, belches, and a theatrical laugh. This is supposed to be a conversation between the gods. T h e priestess takes all the parts. She announces the various presences by calling their names, as if they were addressing one another. T h e gods are of course all related and may call each other 'little sister," "litde brother," and so forth. T h e priestess laid her hands flat on one of the stands bearing rice and the sixty-six coins. With this she called out for the special intermediary spirit, known as taksoe, which in this district is supposed to be at the command of the medium for transmitting messages from the gods. This concept, corresponding closely with the Western medium's control, we did not find current in many of the other districts where trance is practiced. Priestess: Taksoe Agoeng, Taksoe of Java, Taksoe of Bali, come quickly. [A long theatrical laugh with closed lips ended the call.] She picked up in her hand a litde of the rice and some of the coins and cast them toward the shrine, over the offerings. A moan. Then she began to sing through the nose a funny little song, a humming without words, quite distant and odd in sound, unlike any usual Balinese song. She wobbled her head a litde as she sang. She stopped and began again, lifting between her two hands the rice and coins together, playing with it, kneading it sofdy, letting it slip between her fingers, rubbing it gently between her hands, slowly and in time to the little song—like someone unobserved singing at her work. The singing died away. When almost all had slipped through her fingers, she took the coins which were left and knocked them sharply against the edge of the stand. She smoothed the rice with her left hand, and on the flat surface

counted the number of coins in her hand: "One, two." She laid her hands flat on the rice again. Silence. Then she began to sing and to knead the rice and coins once more. She lifted up the mass in her two hands and let most of it slip away, the song dwindling too at the end. Again she knocked the remaining coins on the edge of the tray, smoothed out the rice, and counted: "One, two." The same performance once more, but this time she counted out three coins. She spoke: "Seven!" (She had already counted out two plus two plus three.) She reached around to the side and gave Pan Poegig one coin. "Seven, seven, seven, and one more coin, that makes eight" Pause. Then she prayed, "Lord of Dalem, Lord of Dalem Peredjoerit, remember your subject, who has come." She was referring to the ancestor soul of Pan Poegig's grandfather (that is, the baby's great-great-grandfather), who now began to speak. With this she began to cry, sofdy at first, then harder and harder, the real thing, interspersed with loud violent snuffles. Priestess (as the grandfather): Pan Poegig! Oh pity, pity. Wherever Pan Poegig goes, wandering about, grandfather will come after him. Why is grandmother sorrowful? Grandfather will seek his descendant anywhere. [Refers to Poegig's moving away.] Pan Poegig: It is because your subject is far away, but still he remembers you. Priestess (as the grandfather): No, grandfather is sorrowful. He is sad now to come to ask for rice [trance-talk phrase meaning to return to life]. Now may he [Poegig, the father of the child] give aid, giving rice. ( T o Poegig, who is not present) Don't you know your greatgrandfather, child? He has already sat at the feet of Dalem Tangkas, Dalem Peredjoerit, asking their favor. He is Great-Grandfather Bakta. Did you know there was a great-grandfather Bakta? Pan Poegig: Indeed, it is you yourself, Greatgrandfather, who has come to ask for rice? [She has named the incarnated soul, I Bakta; Pan Poegig wants to make sure of this.]

Finding

a Baby's

Priestess (as the grandfather): Wherever he goes, 111 chase him, asking for rice. I'll not stop making trouble for him (manesirt [literally, make hot]); wherever he goes, I'll get him. I won't make trouble for him if only I am allowed to see all my grandchildren. Pity me, I have to run after them: wherever they go, I'll chase them, wherever they may be living, I am going to ask them for rice. The priestess now rendered a conversation purporting to take place at the court of the gods, in which various other dead souls made their presence known, were addresesd by one or another of the gods, and answered them. Priestess (as a god speaking to a soul): Moekelek, what do you wish to ask of your descendants? (As Moekelek) Your servant does not wish anything, only to beg for holy water (banen tjokor [the water in which the god's feet were washed]) from the Lord. (As Greatgrandfather Ranoe, addressing the god) Dalem Tangkas, I am your servant, Great-grandfather Ranoe. (Great-grandfather Ranoe to the descendants) Great-grandfather does not wish to make trouble for you, no, he only wants to see you. That one is an insulting person. I only ask for a little rice and a small piece of white cloth, which I wish to offer to the Lord of Dalem. Have purifying offerings (loekat) made for me to Lord Dalem Tangkas, that's all. (As other souls) I am I Geroedoeg. I am I Poendoeh. W e have only come to look on; we have no business. Pan Poegig: Yes, indeed, do look upon your subjects. Priestess (as one of the souls): Wherever your child goes, Father will pursue him, Father won't allow it. Father has a great desire to see his grandchildren. Your mother was in distress, Father moved away, the mother of Poegig pursued him—only that I should see my child. Oh! Oh dear! [coughs] Father is coughing, that's all he does. That's the way with me, Ketoet, I cough all the time, what's the matter with me? Only for a little while I see you. The priestess brought her hands down hard, slapping her thighs, and stopped crying. This

Soul

247

concluded the initial part of the stance, inquiring about the soul of Rantoen and Poegig's child. Now Pan Poegig switched the talk over to the sick boy. Priestess (as the god): Well, what is it? W h a t do you want to ask? Pan Poegig: Here is an inquiry of mine about your servant, I Poegoeg. H e is like one who is crazy. Priestess (sofdy, in a different voice, to her assistant): Make libations thrice. Have you done it? Assistant: Yes, indeed, it is done. Priestess (calling the intermediary spirit): Yes, Great Lord, Taksoe Ngeroerah, come quickly. The priestess cleared her throat, and began again the business with the rice and coins, singing the little wordless song. At the first count there was only one coin, which she handed to Pan Poegig, and at the second, four. "Four, four and one," she murmured. Then she began to talk, reasonably and sofdy, in a voice like her own, bending forward and back a little and turning her head round to speak to Pan Poegig behind her. Priestess: This is a young subject, is it not, is it true or not what they say, that the child is like a crazy person, is that right? [She gives instructions] This is already seven times, in seven layers. There was a promise to the Lord God of Dalem Tangkas to offer him clothing, but it has not been given. There was disaster on the road, and so it was not given. That's the reason for this [trouble]. This is correct, remember, remember, remember it. Let the work go on. If you can, offer a little, if you can't, offer a little anyway. It is nothing, only something which was promised. Seven, isn't it? If it is possible go on and give a four-legs [small pig], and a set of clothes Qtigasan). You thought it was only one; that's not right, it must be seven, seven layers if it is possible. If it is not, you can put it off. It [the illness] has been added to by a magically powerful person ([manoesa sakti [a witch]), that's why he's like this. [She beat her thighs again, and called out to the god.] Lord Agoeng Dalem

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in Various

Tangkas, be pleased now to look upon your subjects in Bali. Pan Poegig: Pity your poor subject, who knows nothing. May the god tell us what to do that he may be healthy as he was before. Priestess (as the intermediary spirit): Now I have finished speaking, I want to be put away. Pan Poegig: May I insist, and ask, is there no medicine? Priestess: Ask for that tomorrow [holy water at tomorrow's ceremony]. I thought at this time that the interview was finished. The medium had been forty-five minutes in trance, and it had been more than an hour since she took her place and began the ritual. Clearly she was ready to come out, but her petitioners had not finished with her, they would not let her go. Pan Poegig told the assistant to pour libations again, and one of the women, the grandmother of the other baby, spoke up, "I also have an inquiry." T h e priestess gestured to have the first divining tray removed, and the other one, also containing rice and coins, set before her. This time it did not take her so long to get into it. She addressed the god, introduced the petitioner, called to the taksoe, cleared her throat, moaned, and began her little song accompanying the kneading of the rice. In a very few minutes she had done the counting out of the coins, and she called out a name, beginning to cry. Her petitioner answered, also bursting into tears. The medium was speaking with the voice of her dead mother. "Don't you know your mother? Don't you know your mother?" Men Sengkoeg (the petitioner): I know her, of course I do. Priestess: Now I have come home to see my children and my grandchildren, all of them. Pity me! I come from west of the river to see you. (As the great-grandfather) Great-grandfather comes now, who knows his grandfather? Who knows his poor great-grandfather? Pan Poegig: How can I know? Priestess: Who knows great-grandfather, who knows grandfather, what shall I do with you? [She beats her thighs.] How are you going to

Districts

know great-grandfather, you knew there was a great-grandfather. Poor me, I am I Marep. Who knows poor great-grandfather? Now I come to ask for rice. (As the mother) Don't be sad. I hang on to you. Poor mother, mother to you, she wants to see you. Men Sengkoeg was still crying. "Mother has come home. Remember your child!" Pan Poegig: Now Aunt has come home to ask for rice, who has accompanied Aunt? Priestess: Aunt was accompanied by Greatgrandfather Marep, and nobody knows him. Your great-grandmother was called Ni Kerti. Do you know her? I am very happy to come home; don't you be troubled to have a poor great-grandmother, don't you be sad to have a poor great-grandmother. You don't see anything. You must apply yourself. (As the greatgrandfather, addressing the gods) Your servant asks the favor, to be given sustenance, diat I should receive sustenance. Lord Dalem Peredjoerit, Lord Dalem Tangkas, Dalem Sakti, vouchsafe your servant sustenance, Lord Gods. (As the great-grandfather, to the descendants) Great-grandfather does not make trouble (manesin). You know I am poor. I ask for only a litde. I only ask for a little miak nje-pih offering. That's all I ask for. I know you have nothing. Poor me, my descendants also are poor. (As the mother) Mother asks for nothing, only for one pinch of rice, that's all. Pan Poegig: What more now do you ask? W e have nothing. Priestess: Put it in the shrine outside the door, a white and yellow adjoeman offering only. (As the intermediary spirit addressing the gods) Lord God I beg to take my leave now. [She cleared her throat, and beat her thighs. But all at once a new voice began to come from her, that of a little child, speaking baby talk.] (As the little child) Is baby-baby well-well? It well at house? This was the end of the interview. The priestess gave two great belches and groans, then lifted her arms up and out, slapped her thighs hard, and relaxed. She sat quietly. The brazier was set before her. She smoked a tjanang offer-

249

Summary ing and handed it to the assistant, who gave it to Men Sengkoeg. Another groan or two, a loud throat clearing, and she clapped her hands together, and lifted them over her head, indicating she was out of trance. The business had gone on so long that I had had several times to shift my position, changing my legs from one side to the other, while she was in trance. I was sitting so close to her that I would almost touch her when I lifted myself up to make the shift, but she had never made the slightest sign of remarking it. At this point I had to shift once more, and as I moved, she turned around and looked at me with genuine surprise exclaiming, "Eh!" then "Adoh!" She must have been stiff herself, for she had not moved for an hour and twelve minutes. Though she had known that I was there before she went in trance, her manifest surprise suggested that she had forgotten or been unaware of my presence in the interval. As in the case of Marsa at Pagoetan, who had gone in trance before I was in his presence, the fact of my being there seemed to be so entirely irrelevant to the context of the trance that it was not even recognized. And when the trance medium returned to

normal consciousness, became once more sensitive to stimuli in the outside world irrelevant to the context, I was on both occasions greeted with this evidence of surprise. One is reminded of those experiments in hypnosis in which the subject, surrounded by a score or more of people, appears to be aware only of the presence of those two or three whom the hypnotist has pointed out to him. He does not bump into these people as he moves about the room; he simply does not "see" them in his trance context. It is as if a person at a dinner party absorbed in conversation with his neighbors were to sense the presence of the waiter at his elbow, perhaps even sign to him, "No more," without becoming aware of the waiter as a person—because he did not fit in with the context of the dinner party. But if he were suddenly to recognize the waiter as one of his friends, playing a joke in the thin disguise of a napkin over his arm, he would at once respond to him as a person, the waiter would be fitted into the context. In the state of trance the field of awareness seems to be narrowed to the immediately relevant; that which is irrelevant may be sensed but is not recognized.

SUMMARY I have tried in rendering the trance conversations to annotate them so as to make it as clear as possible who was speaking, and to whom. Even so, the text remains obscure—and it is right that it should be so. For even to a Balinese the messages which were enunciated were confused. After the last interview which has been described, GM, who had taken down the whole record, rushed out of the temple to ask Pan Poegig and his family who it was who was incarnated in Men Sengkoeg's grandchild. They said it was Men Sengkoeg's mother, who was the great-grandmother of the baby. Often when G M and I would work over our notes afterwards, we had difficulty in puzzling out the meanings and in spotting the breaks between

the remarks of the various voices. The chief advantage that we had over the reader in interpreting them is that, in the Balinese original, remarks made to the gods were cast in the highflown language appropriate to them, very different in phrasing from the low customary speech used by both gods and dead souls in addressing the living. The four cases presented here give an idea of the range of techniques and approaches used for divining, and of the type of material that formed the subject for divination. From Seri Ada's practiced and expert handling of the fingernail method, using a child medium, to the fumbling, ungifted efforts of the first woman consulted about Rantoen's baby there is a wide

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Divining in Various Districts

difference. Again, a marked contrast exists between Sen Ada's businesslike approach, almost completely unembellished with ritual procedure, and the exaggerated spectacular rigmarole with which the priestess of Klandis surrounded her performance—gestures, noises, weeping, libations, prayers, incense, and the counting out of coins with no apparent relation to the text of the utterance, to say nothing of the large cast of characters she impersonated and the extended length of time she gave to the business. There was a personality difference here as well as a

straight difference in techniques. Some diviners preferred to put on more of a show, to impress their petitioners with a great to-do and an orgy of emotion, while others, less exhibitionistic, were content to perform in a quiet unassuming way. The amount of exhibitionism was not, as far as we could tell, correlated with clairvoyant ability or the lack of it. But it was a fact that only petitioners who had been impressed by the acuteness of the revelation or by the intensity of the trance seizure tended to feel that they had had their money's worth.

Conclusion It is clear that the trance manifestations in Bali covered a wide range of personalities and of specific behavioral expressions, keyed to the style of action prevalent in the various communities and to the beliefs and attitudes held by those who went into trance and by those who served as audience for them. Everywhere the trances were seen as an attestation of the power of the gods, to come down themselves into the body of the entranced or to allow one of their demonic followers to enter into him. As such attestation served to set up communication between the powers of the upper world and the living, the trance manifestation served to relieve the anxiety of the people, the communal group. Brought up in fear of supernatural dangers, there was a persistent need for reassurance. The trance seizures served as an abreaction of the fears of the individual immediately involved, and also as an abreaction of the fears of the attendant group. As evidence of the contrasting personalities who could make a habit of trance seizures, let us take the two old women of the Intaran district, Djero Plasa and Mem£n Gentir. Djero Plasa was always dominant, full of humor, eloquent, a consummate actress. After a history of deviancy—she had run away from her highborn husband—she was able to set herself up as an institutionalized trance practitioner and doctor. Her strong male identification was recorded both in the fantastic story of her being lifted and seated cross-legged to the top of a palm tree, and in her assumption in subsequent trances of the characteristically male cross-legged posture and a deep male voice. She lived alone and was,

though an old woman, self-sufficient. Memen Gentir, on the other hand, was all femininity. Her sitting and dance postures were "shy," she was not talkative and in the trance spoke in a small, regressive voice. She affected an eccentric hair arrangement and danced in a curiously oblique fashion. She lived surrounded by many children and grandchildren. Her mystical experiences included seeing fire emanate from the holy object of her temple. Two more different personalities could hardly be found, yet they served the same function in the institutionalized trance of the Intaran district. Just as Djero Plasa in her trance role became a male, we have in Ketoet Roeroeng the example of a male who assumed a female personality. A blustering, swaggering character in the normal state, he would take on a surprising feminine role in his trance activity. Obviously it is possible to change sex roles in the trance states. In Intaran there were many stories of mystical experiences out of which legends had grown up, stories concerning the individuals who were credited with magic power. These tales added to the reputation of the trance practitioners. At the same time there was considerable humility on the part of the subjects, who, as in the case of Ketoet Roeroeng's successful cure, gave credit to the gods for the healing and stated that if it were not for the favor of the gods they could not have brought it about. Likewise it was stated in the area that the god would enter only those with whom he was pleased., In this sense the trance phenomena were considered a favor of the gods.

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Conclusion

Even in the case of severe illness, as in the instance of the new sadeg Roenoeh who repeatedly went in trance before the appointed time, the god was pictured as hovering so near to the subject that it was difficult for him to stay out of trance. Here again the god's selection of the individual concerned for the manifestation of the godly presence was interpreted as an indication of favor rather than disfavor. The possibility of the gods' showing their displeasure by inflicting illness upon their subjects was nevertheless accepted in many areas. Sometimes it was a sign that certain offerings be given to propitiate the gods. Only when a trance role was validated by other trance practitioners in touch with the gods' desires did the illness connote something like the "call" which was known in other religions. In certain localities, such as Sindoe, it was claimed that all the members, male and female, could go in trance, including even the small children. Here again it was phrased as a matter of the god's being pleased with a subject if he went in trance. As we have seen, the small children were at times carried away into ecstatic states, and the dancing of a three-year-old in the temple at night was interpreted to mean that a god was in her. Not every one of these potential trancers would go in trance every time there was a ceremonial opportunity. It was noted that although the priests of both temples did go in trance at ceremonials, the priest who was not responsible for the order of the ritual let himself go with more abandon when in the temple of the other priest, who was responsible for the ritual. There seemed to be a measure of conscious control directing the extent to which an individual allowed himself to participate in the trance manifestations. And in Rena of Dendjalan we have an example of a man subject to strong trances who was able to give up going in trance when he found it physically too exhausting. W e have another example of a man who gave up going in trance when he went to live in another village. And all the litde sanghyang dancers of the Kintamani area perforce would stop going in trance when they reached puberty. The frequency with which the trance practi-

tioners went into trance varied with circumstance. In Intaran, because of the density of the temples and the celebrations in house-temples, the sadegs might perform two or three times a week. In Tegaltamoe, because of the deep emotional involvement of the people with the genealogy of the ancestral family to which the temple was sacred and with the representation of the gods in the figures of the masks, Barongs and Rangdas, the occasions at which trance would break out were multiplied by successive seizures of the trance spokesmen who would order a pilgrimage or a giving of offerings in a sequence which would make a crowded schedule. In Tegaltamoe a distinction was made between the trances of the "pure" and those of the "unclean," that is, those who would leap up from the wayside to perform ngoerek as the ceremonial procession passed. The latter, it was believed, were entered by kalas, or servants of the gods. Cases were cited of unclean persons who did ngoerek and who were severely wounded. In Intaran the sadegs were believed to have reached a state of purity in which they were immune to the uncleanness of the various village wards, such as that caused by death occurring in them. These sadegs would only be affected if the whole bale agoeng or wider organization of the village were rendered unclean, as by a disaster. In Intaran also the sadegs attended the festival as a group, as representatives of the gods of their temples. In Tegaltamoe the Barongs and Rangdas, the masks of the Dragons and the Witches, attended as representatives of their temples, and it was through their agency that the trances were brought about. In the whole Gianjar district there was special emphasis on the figures of the Barongs and Rangdas as representatives of the gods, and the kinship between them was stressed and reiterated as the reason for their participation in the festivals of the interrelated temples. W e found that a state of rivalry existed between the people of Tegaltamoe and the people of Dendjalan, and that the villages were spurred to activity through this rivalry. Intense religious

Conclusion conviction on the part of the people of Tegaltamoe kept the ceremonial alive. Dendjalan was an example of a more worldly group, professional in their relation to the performance, but ruthless in their disregard for sacredness attaching to the trance state. In Dendjalan we studied the case of Rena, a strong trancer who stated that the first time he went in trance as a youth he remained unconscious for three hours and that before this, as a child, he had played at doing ngoerek but did not go in trance. His self-stabbing activity was marked by its violence and the Dionysian shouts he emitted, and, when it was time for the coming out of trance, there appeared spasmodic motions of the thighs. His acting ability appeared to be associated with his ability to go in trance. He played a trance doctor with inimitable burlesque of the role. W e studied the case also of Weweg, a vigorous athletic type who performed strong prancing motions and violent self-stabbing motions in trance. His behavior was characterized by the tendency to select an isolated position for his ngoerek activity. He was extremely stubborn in refusing to come out of trance until the offerings he called for were given. He was motivated by a strong desire to establish between himself and the power of the gods a contact which would bring him release. W e have examples from Dendjalan of the perseveration of hand postures in the trance, Neka continuing the rigid extension of the fingers after he had stopped dancing the Rangda, Weweg stretching out his arms to both sides, fingers widespread, as he had held them in the preliminary dance. Likewise Marsa, from Pagoetan, continued to impersonate the Barong by motions of the hands and head when it was the god of the Barong which animated him and after he had come out from under the Barong's cloak. There was shown to be an awareness of offerings in the trance state, the calling for them and the acceptance of those which were presented, suggesting a narrowing of awareness which yet allowed the special stimuli to be responded to.

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The aggressive, demanding attitude connected with the calling for offerings in the trance would be taboo as behavior in the normal state. In Rawa of Pagoetan we have a subject who in the trance behaved in a characteristically violent, aggressive, and exhibitionistic manner, focussing the attention upon himself. He mentioned a powerful desire to stab himself and said it was as if someone were ordering him to stab. He spoke of a strong feeling of anger. After the stabbing he had a feeling of contentment. D6wa Ketoet Kel^nang of Pagoetan was the stiff, jerky individual who played the Rangda because he was so tall. He lay outstretched for fifty minutes, rigid and unconscious, between the enactment of his role as Rangda and the ceremonials attending the coming out of trance. There is evidence that the trancers of long standing showed a facility for going into trance, that they were able to direct their attention in trance to outside circumstances, and that they were less concerned with the strangeness of the sensations and the impulses of the disassociated state. W e have the example of Marsa from Pagoetan, a man who rarely went in trance but who did so with great intensity. H e was the man who fell down on the trail, was carried into the temple, with his head thrown back and a tortured expression on his face. H e butted the Barong, becoming violent. Then he got in the Barong and snapped ferociously at offerings, and snorted, grunted, lifted his feet, and stamped. After he was out of the Barong he twisted his head from side to side exactly as a Barong. H e was bathed in sweat and panting hard. After the run up the steep incline to the other temple, his eyes were closed, he showed no response to the flashlight. H e was unaware of the presence of observers with notebooks and flashlights during one and a half hours of trance; he greeted with surprise the sight of us when he opened his eyes as he came out of trance. Here the entranced was sufficiendy carried away by his experience to be unable to take in the outside circumstances of the presence of foreign observers.

254

Conclusion

In the kris dancers we observed marked anticipatory muscular contractions and spasms, before the attack on the Witch, and the stylized falling unconscious. The players contended that they were "in and out" of trance. They would rise up again from their recumbent position to execute a stylized paired combat before they broke out in the wild self-stabbing activity when they appeared to go deeply in trance and were difficult to bring to themselves. Often marked convulsive seizures were set off when the players were caught and disarmed. For the women who took part for the first time in the formal kris dance, convulsive seizures were set off as they were caught, and several of them remained in a state of agitated collapse for a long time until they could be brought to themselves. In the case of the two little girl trance dancers, the sanghyang deling, the trance dancing took place between two poles of more intense trance behavior, when the children threw themselves about wildly, until they fell limp, at the going into trance and the coming out. In the interval between the going in and the coming out they seemed to dance in their sleep; their gestures were somnambulistic, their mood petulant and willful: they would refuse a bearer who offered himself for them to dance on his shoulders, they would refuse to dance to a certain melody or song, and would accept only those which pleased them. T h e sanghyang was inducted, it was said, by the "touch" of the other trance dancer. But observation showed that the touch consisted of a violent shaking and being held by the hair of her head. T h e first time that Renoe tried to so induce a partner to join her, nothing happened, but with Misi it was successful: she went at once into trance. For the routine going in trance, when the child would first take hold of the vibrating stick, only her arms would be agitated. Then the vibration would extend to the head which seemed to shake. Then would follow the swaying from side to side which would increase in violence. She would loosen up so that her head would roll

on her neck, and the shaking motion was discontinued. Then followed swaying from one side to the other until she achieved the full abandoned swing from right to left. The beginning of the thumping of the stick on the pedestal would follow, the head going forward loosely as she pounded. She would become so violent in her thumping of the stick that she would miss the pedestal—then she would fall back in full trance and lie limp. During the dance of the sanghyangs, there was a loose execution of some of the stylized figures of the legong dance, done with flexibility but not with the highly organized control of the trained dancer. Of a different order was the control of balancing and bending far backward on the shoulders of a man supporting them. It probably came from a lower neurological level and would not be possible in just that manner except in the trance state. Of interest is the interplay between the two children in trance. They were to some extent aware of each other during the dancing, for from time to time they would whisper together. They would dance the same figures in response to the music but were not sufficiendy aware of each other to perform in unison. Only occasionally they would come into unison. When they were coming out of trance, performing the wild gyrations of the coming out, they might bump into each other as they hurled their bodies about, or fling an arm into the other's lap as they sat side by side. It would seem that at this stage in the deeper trance they were unaware of each other. Of the sanghyangs of Selat, little was said about the entering of spirits from the god's world. They did not use the term keraoehan (entered) but nados and nadi (high and low from dados and dadi, to become). The crowd that gathered was alert and attentive; everyone would take part in the singing and the clapping to stimulate the trancer. Part of the game was to keep calling orders and prohibitions to excite or to prohibit impulses of the player beyond the suggestions contained in the songs. Afterward they would precipitate themselves on the trancers and induce convulsions. Then they

Conclusion would tum to nursing the participant back to a normal state. T h e sanghyangs, like the sanghyang deling, would refuse songs they did not like, sometimes by sitting down, sometimes by making a dash at the singers and kicking them. They were suggestible and contrasuggestible by turns. In the final convulsion, the man would arch his body backward in an arc. A very tense expression would be on his face, and no response would be elicited from the flashlight. The lips might be projecting slightly and the tongue also projecting. Pants and gasps would characterize the breathing. T h e final seizure when the sanghyang was caught is like the one set off at times when men and women trancers who had been stabbing themselves were caught and disarmed. In the strong seizure there was less of conscious control than in the somnambulistic state, the behavior was not patterned in an individual and cultural manner but represented only an uncoordinated discharge of low-level cerebral innervation. In taking up divining, we found that certain practitioners were unwilling to perform when a white person was present. Others, like Sen Ada, were willing to divine for illness, a spell, or a lost object, but did not want to be held responsible by the authorities if anything h a p pened to the malevolent persons who might be discovered through the method. The two little boys whom we took from our village to the divining of Seri Ada seemed to be able to see scenes in the fingernail, with the assistance of the trained medium, although they had never experienced this type of divining before. One of the other trance mediums we consulted went into her state of trance with little

255

effort. She spoke with a small voice different from her normal voice. Another prefaced her trance with twenty minutes of prayer and ritual gestures, reverences, libations, holding her hands in the smoke of the brazier and rubbing them together, sprinkling holy water. When finally she settled herself and closed her eyes, she began in one minute to sway slightly, her head nodding, her body rocking, and a big moan came from her. Six more minutes passed in snuffling, grunts, belches, and groans, interspersed with ritual gestures and the slapping of the thighs before she began to give utterance. Her utterance was interpolated with loud, rasping throat clearings. She spoke to the gods, as the gods, as the intermediary spirit, and as a whole group of ancestor souls, including the ones which were reincarnated. A performance such as this the Balinese petitioners found deeply gratifying. The performances of the various types of trance constituted a setting up of communication with the power of the gods and an exorcism of the powers of evil. The fact of the trance taking place would reassure the people. In this culture considerable anxiety was established early in life, and this anxiety created a need for persistent reassurance. There is evidence that libidinal as well as ego drives motivated the individual trance practitioner. For him there was release, often culminating in a convulsive seizure in which there was a strong discharge of cerebral innervation. The practice may have had therapeutic value for the individual. The fact that the seizures were scheduled in accordance with the religious life, and integrated with it, brought them under social control and gave them meaning and social significance.

SPECIAL NOTE

I have been much interested in the work of Clifford Geertz on Indonesia. After Trance in Bali was set in type, his article entitled "Form and Variation in Balinese Village Structure" appeared in the American Anthropologist, XLI, No. 6 (December, 1959). His analysis throws light on much that has been described in my book and especially on the functioning of the Tegaltamoe Goesti family. J.B.

Appendix A TEMPLE FESTIVAL WITH TRANCE SEANCE OD AL AN OF THE POERA AGOENG, INT ARAN, APRIL 17, 1938 [From notes by K M ] THE

TEMPLB

The Poera Agoeng was a white coral temple in the village of Intaran and represented the Great Mountain (Goenoeng Agoeng) for the people of this district. At certain times of each year the people were supposed to make pilgrimages to the temple on the peak of Bali, the temple named Besakih, and to make offerings there. As the distance made the journey very difficult and the carrying of offerings for such a distance even more so, the people built a temple to represent the Goenoeng Agoeng in their own village. Soil was taken from the mountain at the temple Besakih and that soil was placed under the main shrine to the Goenoeng Agoeng. The temple had always, apparently, been under the jurisdiction of one family of Satrya caste in whose house the figures of the gods were kept. When there was a temple festival, there was a procession from the home of the Prince to the temple, bearing the gods from their place of keeping to the shrine. THE

PROCESSION

On the day of the festival the procession formed in the afternoon at two thirty. Men, women, and children gathered at the home of Anak Agoeng Mad6 Metjoetan and were given the spears, banners, the silver service, and the box that held the god figures Qartjas). Firecrackers were set off in front of the main door of Anak Agoeng Made's property, and the people came forth. They had with them part of the orchestra, big gongs and cymbals, and a group of men who walked with these instruments, playing and singing as they went. Before the outer golden doors of the temple, Poera Agoeng, the procession halted while a small ground offering was placed in front of the steps. Arak was poured around it in a circle, and the brazier of fire was used to smoke the artjas as they came in. The men

carrying the box with the figures inside halted, standing, while a woman performed the necessary ritual. The procession went directly to the large pavilion to the east side of the temple court. The Pemangkoe Ged£ led the way, as he is the priest for the temple. There on a raised platform the boxes were placed; the children bearing spears stopped at the steps and the spears were thrust into holes in the ground. All the shrines inside the courtyard were beautifully decorated, hung with fine cloth, some of which was rich in gold and color. Leaf fringes hung from the corners and on some of the smaller shrines were long tassels that swung in the breeze. From the main shrine hung long palm-leaf panels cut out in intricate old Indonesian design. ASKING

THE

GODS

TO

DESCEND

3:10 P.M. The temple priest took from the container the carved turtle that served as the base for the god figures to be set in. A woman was arranging around the cushion on which the turtle sat a few offerings, the gods' regalia, and the silver service for holy water and cleansing. The priest took out the two artjas for the Goenoeng Agoeng, held them for a moment over the brazier, then placed them on the turtle's back. The two figures are about twelve inches high and beautifully carved, painted with colored paint to represent their clothes and decorated with real gold on their headdresses. Tiny fresh flowers were added to adorn them. The priest then took the white thread that came up under the cushion and tied the figures firmly into place. He took the brazier and made a short prayer, after which he wafted the smoke toward them. The daughter of Anak Agoeng Mad0 Metjoetan was arranging on the shrine the three puppets Cgegahehs, which represented the widiadari or heavenly nymphs). These were in small clay pots

Appendix A

258

which were draped with white and had a little apron of green cloth decorated with gold hanging down in the front. Inside these pots were small figures, made of bamboo and tied around with white cloth, and on this base or figure were placed little painted faces of the gegaloehs. In this temple they were said to be two females and a male. They were figuratively "cleansed and anointed," and real flowers were placed in their headdresses. T h e priest and two women assistants were now busy arranging a group of offerings on a mat on the floor of the pavilion just in front of the god figures. These offerings were made to ask the gods to come down. T h e priest seated himself and began his ritual with the brazier of incense and holy water, chanting prayers. THB

BLESSING

OF

THE

PEOPLE

T h e priest asked the gods to make the water holy. T h e people were sprinkled with this water and given a little to drink. Flowers were distributed, and the people took them to make their reverences to the gods, holding them between their joined fingers as they raised them above their heads, and then cast them on the floor of the court. 3:50 Women began to arrive from the village with enormous offerings on their heads. They would set them down and then kneel before the priest to receive the blessing. HONOR

TO

THE

GODS

the repast. W h e n the drinking jar is offered again, it is to wash their mouths after eating, and, when one of the tjanangs is offered, it is for them to chew betel. COCKFIGHT

During the calling down of the deities there had been going on in the outer court of the temple a most animated cockfight. Though only two roosters were pitted at a time, the audience of men that attended numbered into the hundreds. Betting was animated, the noise of the shouting of the men was so great that at times people connected with the ritual in the temple left their places to rush outside for a bit to watch the spectacle and to see who was winning. T h e supposed reason for a cockfight at this time was that blood had to be spilled as a ground offering to pacify the evil spirits and see that they were happy so that they would not molest the temple or meddle in the business of calling down the gods. It is true that it was a gory spectacle and that, if the Boetas, as the evil spirits are called, were happy at the sight of blood flowing and the entrails of the fighting cocks being dragged on the ground before their actual demise, then they must indeed have had as great a delight as the fevered audience of men who wagered their last penny on these affairs. VOLUNTARY

OFFERINGS

OF

THE

PEOPLE

From the time that the gods were in place on the highest tier of the main shrine, there had been a continuous procession of women carrying offerings upon their heads entering through the great main gate. Though the center door was quite tall, it was necessary for nearly every woman who entered to crouch as she came through the doorway. T h i s was because of the size of the offerings upon their heads. Beautifully made in tier upon tier of rice and fruits, the offerings rose into great cones and pillars, decorated with tassels of new palm leaves. These offerings were placed on the ground or on the pavilions. Word was carried to the High Priestess (of Brahmana caste) that the deities had arrived, and she was brought to the temple to officiate.

T h e god figures were now lifted up by the priest and placed in the shrine for the Goenoeng Agoeng. T h e holy water in the large silver receptacle was set in the highest shrine near the figures. T h e priest completed the ritual, "asking the gods to be seated," praying, lifting the brazier and the water vessels, making libations, and presenting the offerings. T h e priest explained: T h e brazier is used first as the ladder of smoke by which the deities may descend into the figures. Then the bowl of water is used as a symbol of giving them a place to cleanse themselves from the journey. T h e drinking jar is for them to wash out their mouths. T h e offering called rantasan is wearing apparel for them, and ARRIVAL OF THE MASKED FIGURES the tray containing perfumes, comb, mirror, oils, and spices is for them to beautify themselves. T h e 4:05 T h e wooden slit-gong was beaten furiarak poured from the leaf is wine that they drink, ously for perhaps five minutes. This was to give and the rice and other offerings containing food is honor to the gods from the Temple at Panti who

Temple

Festival with Trance

were being escorted to the Poera Agoeng. In the procession from Panti there was a long line of women bearing offerings preceding the gods; following the women were instruments of the gamelon, then spear bearers and banner bearers, and at last the two great figures of the gods. The male, Ratoe Ged6, was a frightening figure with a black grinning face from which extended two great tusks distorting his mouth and curling back over his cheeks. Two small horns projected from his forehead near the center while his eyes were partially shut by his sinister grin. He was dressed in a black coat decorated with black goatskin, wore a long draped skirt of black and white checked material through which one could see the figure of the man carrying him. T h e Ratoe Ged6 was a figure made on a wooden frame, clothed and deified by the mask, while his stuffed arms rode akimbo, one on his hip and the other crossed to it as though his thumb were tucked in his belt. Parasols were held over his head, but closed as he went through the main gateway with a great deal of trouble, owing to the size and the unmanageability of the wooden frame. He was followed by his wife, an equally tall figure, with a smiling white face which tilted down so that she seemed to be as reassuring in her smile as her husband had been terrifying. Her arms dangled at her side while her body was coated and draped as her spouse, not with fur but with brighter colors upon which there had at one time been gold appliqu£d patterns. She bounced merrily along in back of her husband, though slighdy upset as she was literally squeezed through the main doorway. When they were in their place in the eastern pavilion, offerings were made to them. Two priests accompanied them, one the regular temple priest, the other Giweng, who was one of the sadegs. THE

CEREMONY OF

THE

MAIN

OF

DEDICATION

OFFERINGS

5:00 The High Priestess, Pedanda Istri Anom, arrived and began her ritual on the raised platform called the bale Pedanda. The service consists of reciting prayers in Sanskrit Qmeweda~), ringing the bell, the symbolic gestures with the fire and water vessels, and the hand postures called tnudras. The priest from Panti continued to give holy water to his followers from the pavilion where the masked figures were placed, while the temple priest gave holv water to others in front of the main shrine.

Seance

259

This continued throughout the remainder of the late afternoon and twilight. Many of the trance mediums who were to appear later in the trance ceremonial now arrived. Anak Agoeng λ ^ έ Bandjar sat under the big champaka tree talking to a group of men. Siloeh Kompiang, the sadeg for the village temple, came bringing her offerings and received holy water. Tompong, the wife of Goja, sadeg of the temple Poera Dalem Mimba, brought her offerings. She was one of the engingan women and danced with the gegaloeh puppets. Roekti, another of the ingingan women, came, and several of the lesser men sadegs from other temples. The courtyard by now was completely filled with men, women, and children, all dressed in their best clothes and newly bathed and perfumed. The chatter drowned out the sound of the High Priestess and her bell. After a while most of the people left the temple, to return later for the night's trance stance and dancing. THE

CEREMONIAL

OF

THE

NIGHT

8:30 The sadegs had arrived one by one so that now in the temple, seated on the floor of the pavilion before the Ratoe Ged6 and his white-faced wife, were Djero Plasa (sadeg for Kajangan), Μέπιέη Gentir (sadeg for Poera Iboe), Goja Qsadeg for Dalem Mimba), Roenoeh (sadeg for Batoer), Pemangkoe Segara named Geroet, Sanging Boejar, Giweng from Panti, the Pemangkoe Ged£, priest of this temple, and the dngingan women Tompong, Roekti, Masi, and Djero Singgih. DANCING

OF

THE

GEGALOEH

PUPPETS

The offerings for the gegaloeh puppets were put down on the ground at the end of the line of spears leading from the steps of the building where the masked figures were. Memen Gentir led the group with Djero Singgih, while Tompong, Masi, and Roekti carried the three puppets. Μέιηέη Gentir and Djero Singgih carried the incense brazier and the water bowl. They circled the offerings on the ground, dancing slowly as they went. Then Μέιηέη Gentir and Djero Singgih danced, each holding a leaf containing arak which they ultimately spilled upon the ground. They were followed by the other three women carrying the puppets. This they repeated three times, circling the offerings. After the third circle the puppets were given back to Siloeh Kompiang, and she replaced them on the pavilion.

260

Appendix A

The dancing women then danced a series of figures to the main shrine, carrying first the brazier and the water bowl, and then the other offerings. They ended with a reverence toward the shrine. The offerings were then torn apart and scattered. Μέιηέη Gentir took one more leaf of arak and gave the contents drop by drop to each of the other four dancing women, which they in turn offered.

SEATING

PLAN

The different sadegs had come while the offering of the dancing women had been going on, and now all seated themselves on the pavilion, as shown below, where they would remain for the seance. (The italicized names are those of the female sadegs.)

NORTH

KM Siloeh

A.A.M. Bandjar

Kompiang

Roenoeh Μέτηέη

Gentir Maü

Goja Sanging Boejar Djero

Tanggoen

Singgih Djero

Giwcng

Plasa Pemangkoe Gede (Officiating Priest)

Geroet

Tompong Other

engengan

Noticeably absent was Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami, the sadeg for Maospait or Madjapait temple, who had a place of honor when present. THE

TRANCE

siANCE

9:30 The trays of offerings were in place at the north of the space on which the sadeg ritual was to be held. The braziers had been brought and were smoking nicely, and all the sadegs were seated in a respectful and serious manner. The officiating priest was the Pemangkoe Ged£ of the Poera Agoeng. He began the ritual by making a reverence ('mebakti), offering flowers. This he followed by offering the brazier in his right hand, while with the left he clasped his right arm as though sustaining it. He replaced the brazier and took the water bowl,

women

which he held in his left hand, while in his right he held a flower. He accompanied these gestures with prayers, chanting in a low voice. After the chant with the water bowl, he took the flower and dipped it in the water and sprinkled it three times over the tray of offerings placed in front of him. At this point Djero Plasa very quietly but with very compelling and sure movement reached forward and proceeded to smoke herself over the brazier nearest to her. She did this very deliberately and very effectively, making the most out of the movements, wafting the smoke over her face, her chest, and her hands. After this she did a very slow movement of reverence (wefcafeti), raising her hands three times, raising them a trifle higher than movements of this kind are ordinarily made. She

Temple

Festival uHth Trance

did them well and with a measured realization of what she was doing. After the smoking she took a leaf, poured arak into it, and spilled the arak on the ground after making the gesture of wafting toward the gods. She then took another leaf and passed it to the priest of the God of the Sea, Geroet, who was seated in back of the officiating priest. He repeated the same gestures. They did the libation twice, each using two leaves of arak. The officiating priest was now holding the brazier in his right hand and praying. After a bit he changed the brazier to his left hand and took a flower in the right. With the flower he wafted the smoke toward the offerings as he continued chanting. He followed this with the bowl of holy water in his left hand and a flower in his right, then sprinkled the water over the offering. Geroet, seated back of him, held a water jar in his hand and chanted as the priest held the water bowl and chanted. The priest made another libation of arak and Geroet did the same. The priest then took the tray of betel (tjanang gantaV), and offered that. Then the teak-leaf offerings idaoenan) were passed. 9:42 All the sadegs present were given the two sets of leaves, one placed on top of the other. They all raised them, holding them in both hands while the priest chanted, and the sadegs likewise whispered a prayer to the gods. They finished the leaf business by the gesture of wafting the essence towards the gods, and then the leaves were put down and each person took the coins that had been placed on the leaves as the sari. Rice was then passed to each person, a little pattie on a leaf, and some took the rice and placed it in their baskets to take home, while others gave it to children or to people seated behind them, while still others only touched it with their finger tips as a symbolic eating. Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar merely waved his hand over it and nodded his head. At this time the tray with offerings on it was brought, and a larger smoking bra7ier put down in the center of the space. Goja reached for a leaf and went through the business of spilling arak; Siloeh Kompiang followed, Roenoeh followed her, Sanging Boejar was next, then Masi; but Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar never did at any time. Masi then produced a white coat from behind her and proceeded to dress herself in the long-sleeved coat that the sadcg women affect. Djero Plasa had had one on from the beginning, as had Siloeh Kompiang. Memen Gentir had

Seance

261

danced the gegaloeh dance in hers, but Djero Singgih had danced with a scarf around her as had the other itigengan women. They now all appeared coated. Betel was then passed around to everyone, but Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar did not take any or chew as did the others. Tompong was having difficulty in getting into her coat. Someone who was seated in front of her helped her. More fuel was added to the smoking braziers, and, when the chips had taken fire, a bit more incense powder was scattered on them so that they smoked quite furiously. People began calling to others on the outside of the pavilion. In a minute or so groups of men came up and gathered around the pavilion and began the singing to bring the gods down. 9:55 The priest smoked over the brazier a leaf containing arak and offered it with a chant, spilling the contents. Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar now removed his spectacles and took off his headcloth. He wore no coat but had a scarf bound rather high on his torso. He then deliberately retied his headcloth, which had been rather simply done, and did it over so that the back section was pulled forward into a great winglike drape over his face. It was much more elaborate than the simple way he had worn it when he had come, and was the only concession he made in preparation for the entering of the god. The priest again offered arak in a leaf. Then he sat quietly with his hands clasped in his lap while the number of people singing gradually increased. The orchestra was playing loudly on the other side of the court, also helping to bring the gods down. Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar reached forward and moved one of the offerings placed farthest to the north nearer to the center and out of his way. He then slid forward a bit, so that he was nearer to the brazier of smoking incense. The priest again offered arak in a leaf and chanted. Goja moved forward and smoked himself over the brazier near him—his face, his chest, and hands— ending in a reverence. The singing continued to swell, and all the sadegs sat quietly, concentrating on the business of the trance. The priest began a long prayer asking the gods to descend. Some of the family of Roenoeh squeezed in under the raised platform where the huge masked figures of the gods were sitting in state and managed to reach a place behind Roenoeh. Some of the men singing moved up near Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar and climbed up close to him. Know-

262

Appendix

ing that his trance was very violent, I offered to move from my place next to him so that his followers could more easily reach him. At this point a Chinese guide brought in a group of tourists, who made their way straight to the pavilion and talked in loud voices, calling out questions to him over the noise of the singing. This had a very disturbing effect on the sadegs. Some of them were sufficiendy distracted to look up to see what was going on. Masi, the officiating priest, Sanging Boejar, Goja, Kompiang, Djero Plasa, Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, and Roenoeh did not raise their eyes or act as though they were aware of what was happening. The tourists then tried to climb up on the pavilion, as they had seen that I was sitting there. I spoke to the guide and told him that he must tell the people they could not do that, for if they really wished to see the trance, they had better be quiet lest they spoil the whole ceremony. I heard him explain to them that I lived in this district and was writing down the course of the ceremonial, and that I had said to him that if they wished to see the trance it would be better to stay at a lower level so as not to distract the people. There was a good deal of dissension at this suggestion, but the guide remained firm and after a bit succeeded in persuading the tourists to get down. The trance had been at a standstill during this confusion. The officiating priest had kept on offering libations and chanting. Masi now began to shake a bit. Anak Agoeng Madέ Bandjar had never moved a muscle. Now one of the men near him asked me to push the brazier a litde nearer to him. The man then took more incense and put it on the fire, so that in only a moment the smoke was so thick that he seemed shrouded in it. I felt that this had been a good idea, as the smoke acted as a screen against the intruders. There was an interval in which the singing grew perceptibly stronger and the priest chanted with more libations, and then Djero Plasa began the movements of her trance. 10:06 Djero Plasa had been sitting very still with her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes closed. Her body commenced to shake very slightly, and her head sank lower on her chest. The first sign that she was about to go into trance was a quivering of her knees, a spasmodic convulsive sort of quivering. Then she clapped her palms on her thighs, raised her hands and clapped them again before her higher than her head. After this she

A

looked up for the first time, her eyes dilated, and began to talk in a deep male voice. She accompanied her words with dance movements of the arms, head, and torso, remaining seated. She continued dancing and talking without a break, addressing the other gods, calling the God of the Great Mountain who would enter Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, and pleading with him to hurry, to descend quickly. 10:07 Μέπιέη Gentir began to go into trance. She was sitting, not cross-legged as Djero Plasa, but with her legs to one side and her head also leaning, so that the whole attitude of her body gave the impression of shyness and a kind of emotional immaturity. She began to shake gently. She swayed in a rotary motion, as if she were dizzv or drunk, after which the shaking grew more violent. She clapped her hands in the air before her, and gave a very childish, high-pitched cry. The priest poured a libation for the god which had entered Μέιτιέη Gentir, as he had done for Djero Plasa's god. Djero Plasa continued to talk, but Μέπιέη Gentir slumped back against someone who supported her and made no more sound or movement until the dressing of the gods began. 10:09 Masi moved in closer to the brazier so that the smoke rose in her face. She had her hands clasped tighdy in her lap between her knees, and, as her head bent more and more forward over the brazier, her hands stretched stiffer and stiffer out in front of her as though she were straining hard to achieve the state of trance. She shook very violently, with a spasmodic quivering of her legs and body, and then collapsed backward into someone's arms. She lay there limply until the dressing began. The priest poured the libation for her god as she collapsed. Djero Plasa had been watching all of this, continuing to do the dance movement, and, as Masi went into trance, she called out the name of the god, as greeting to the god who had entered Masi. Djero Plasa was acting as a sort of hostess to the assembling deities. The Balinese secretary, KP, recorded the following utterances during this passage of behavior: Djero Plasa: Oooo, la, Ao, Ai! They arrive—the holy company! Μέπιέη Gentir: The Great Lord arrives! Djero Plasa (dancing): Be pleased, Lord Holy

Temple

Festival

with

Prince Great One, let it be broken off [pegatinin]\ 1 Μέιηέη Gentir: Indeed, that is correct! Let it be broken off! Djero Plasa: Little sister, Mas Ajoe, all together, what about Ida Poetoe Agoeng? Masi (going into trance): I beg the mercy of the Lord. (She began to cry.) Djero Plasa: Now, Lord Agoeng, it begins, the breaking off! 10:11 Siloeh Kompiang was next to go into trance. Very intense and contracted, she sat sideways, her hands clasped tightly, the thumbs lying over the top of the clenched hands. Her right hand rested on her right thigh, near the knee, her left hand on her left thigh, nearer her body. She seemed to press down on her legs with her fists as she approached the state of trance. She had a thin face of the so-called Hindu type and had lost her teeth, so that her mouth fell into a straight compressed line. She closed her eyes, and the muscles of her forehead contracted as though she were in pain. She seemed to retire further and further into herself and thenceforward gave no sign that she saw or heard anything that went on about her. As the siance continued, she concentrated more and more until there was a decided scowl on her face, and then her clenched fists began to shake, and she began convulsively to pound her thighs with her fists. Her hips rose and fell so that she was lifted from her sitting position with a pulsing movement suggestive of a sexual response. She finished by raising her hands into the air and clapping them, giving a cry, and then fell back into the arms of an assistant. She lay there limply even while they were dressing her (and at no time during the rest of the stance did she open her eyes until she came out of trance). Djero Plasa called out, as she went into trance, "The Lord God of the Village Temple has arrived!" During this time Roekti, one of the engengan women, was also going into trance. She sat sideways and had a continuous nervous trembling of her head that made her look as if she were shaking her head in negation. (This was a mannerism occasionally noticeable in her when she was not in trance, but more pronounced at the moment of going in.) She bent lower and lower over her lap. 1

Pegatinin probably refers to the breaking off of the godly personality from the upper world to enter the person of the entranced.

Trance

Seance

263

and held her hands tightly clasped together, her fingers intertwined. She clapped her hands on her legs as a sign that the god had entered her and began to cry a little and to murmur something that no one seemed to understand, and then she also collapsed. Djero Plasa did not honor her by addressing the god who arrived in her but kept on talking to Roenoeh and to Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, who were not yet in trance but who were trying hard. The priest poured the libation for Roekti's god. 10:12 Roenoeh now squirmed forward until he had firmly taken hold of the stand on which the offerings and the brazier were set. He grasped the wooden rim of the stand and bent over it so that the smoke from the brazier rose directly into his face. A strange twitching of the muscles of one side of his face and neck began to be noticeable. His head hung to the side, and he made agonized faces as though he were in great pain. The muscles of his neck stood out like great ropes and remained taut for some time. He leaned forward and put his face practically into the fire and then turned it away with a curious sideways motion, as though he were listening to something far away. He kept his eyes closed during all of this, though one occasionally had the impression that he was looking out of the slits of his eyes. As he came closer to the state of trance, he became more and more violent, there was a convulsive pulsing up and down of his hips and a twisting around of his torso, until finally he banged the tray with his hands, breaking the clay incense brazier, scattering the red-hot coals, hurling himself forward to get his face into the embers, and taking the red coals in his hands and pressing them to his face. People leaned forward and tried to brush aside the coals, whereupon he straightened up and looked all about him, calling out in a loud voice, "The Lord God of the Mountain of Batoer has come!" Then he collapsed completely in the arms of his family. He remained prone for the following thirty minutes and was so limp during the subsequent dressing that he had to be held up by three people. The priest poured the libation for his god, and Djero Plasa greeted the god with much conversation and a lot of dancing. During this time a great deal more was happening. When Roenoeh leaned forward to get nearer to the incense brazier, Sanging Boejar, who was sitting near him, had begun to shiver and shake,

264

Appendix A

and, when Roenoeh began the business of writhing around over the brazier, Sanging Boejar threw himself forward violently as though trying to reach Roenoeh. He bumped into the knees of Masi, who sat between him and Roenoeh, and had to be picked up by the people behind him and pulled back into their arms. The priest poured a libation. Roenoeh was still not quite under and was writhing. The priest from Panti was talking to Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar, encouraging the god to appear. Sanging Boejar now straightened up and began to talk. Goja, the Koelit of Dalem Mimba, now began to be affected. Goja leaned forward, clasping his knees in his hands. His eyes were closed and his head bent quite low. His body shook slightly at first, then with more pronounced tremors, until his knees began a most violent action, thudding on the floor as he neared his collapse. As he went into trance, Djero Plasa called out, "Indeed, only make use of me, because I am extremely stupid!" 10:17 T h e brazier in front of Anak Agoeng Madέ Bandjar was refilled with incense and gave out much more smoke. T h e priest from Panti continued to talk to him, and he and another man changed places, so that the man would be directly back of Bandjar as a support. Bandjar slid forward a bit, reaching in a blind sort of way for the stand with the brazier on it. Djero Plasa began to direct her entire energies toward Bandjar, talking to him continuously. T h e smoke from the brazier was now going directly into his face and up his nostrils. (How he was not suffocated I could not see, for as I was so close to him I too got a lot of the smoke, and it was necessary for me to keep a handkerchief over my nose to avoid having a coughing spell.) But the smoke seemed to have no effect whatsoever on Bandjar. He had his eyes tightly closed and his hands clasped in front of him in his lap, all the fingers interlocking. Both Djero Plasa and the officiating priest spoke directly to him, calling the God of the Great Mountain to come down. 10:20 All the action now seemed to be concentrated on bringing Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar into trance. Still more incense was put on the brazier in front of him, so that the smoke came up in clouds. Djero Plasa half rose from her seated position and began a dance directly to him. From

somewhere she had gotten a fan, and she now moved it slowly as she danced as if attracting the gods to come down.2 She appeared to be completely oriented toward Bandjar, but she burned inside herself with a sure Same. She talked, called, entreated, sang, and always moved her fan. 10:25 Several men gathered direcdy behind Bandjar, where they sang to the fullest of their lungs. Soon the neck muscles of Bandjar began to stand out, and streams of perspiration ran down his bare torso. T h e two men sitting next to him talked to him over the sound of the singing, and Djero Plasa kept on dancing and declaiming. 10:28 There was a second and more violent spasm of his neck muscles, and now the veins of his forehead stood out, and perspiration streamed down his face and body. It was not really so very hot, and no one else seemed to be so affected. There was only a slight moisture on the skin of the other sadegs, and none of the rest of us was running rivers as was Bandjar. 10:29 He put his face down close over the brazier. He was beginning to make guttural sounds in his throat, and why he was not overcome with the smoke I cannot tell. More men crowded up behind him, and all the singing was now immediately around him. T h e gamelan orchestra, which had been silent, was ordered to play again, and they began to pound the instruments so that the whole temple was filled with the ringing sounds. 10:30 T h e spasms of Bandjar were becoming more frequent. The neck muscles stood out for a minute or so at a time until his face was flooded with blood, and the sweat continued to pour down his body. He gripped the brazier itself now and held his face close over the fire. He was really close ' Djero Plasa did not always perform in this way at the trance seance, but when she did, it was as though she were hypnotizing someone. The first time I ever saw her (in 1931) she did the same sort of thing, and also to the same person, Bandjar, but I had not seen her do it for the past three or four years. At such a time she seemed entirely aware of her surroundings and completely mistress of herself. She was able to participate in, and even to direct, the intricacies of the ritual. She seemed to be in an exalted state. She was not in any sense unconscious of her surroundings, but quite removed from them, in an ecstatic condition produced by her intense conviction about the gods.

Temple

Festival with Trance

enough to feel the heat and might even have been burned. The priest from Panti moved even closer to him and began to talk again. Bandjar started to quiver all over so violently that there was not only a shaking of his body but a twitching of all the muscles. His mouth opened, but his teeth were clenched and his face twisted as with pain. Suddenly he pitched forward, throwing himself violently into the fire. The trays of offerings placed for the whole performance were scattered. The fire flew out of the brazier onto the mat and over near the other people. The men seated behind Masi and Roenoeh leaned forward to remove the coals and were burned as they picked them up. Bandjar groveled with his hands in what fire he could get hold of, and writhed and kicked so that as the two men on either side of him reached forward to take hold of him he half rose to his feet struggling. He was hard to hold, as his body was so wet. Finally he collapsed limply into the arms of an assistant and appeared to be completely unconscious. His head fell back, and his mouth dropped open. His foot touched a coal, but he did not twitch or quiver. And it took the strength of the two men to get his legs folded back into the sitting position and out of the way of the offerings. He did not help at all. If an arm was moved, it stayed there unless the force of gravity made it drop. 10:31 Djero Plasa greeted the arrival of the god with these words: "Indeed, may the Lord only be pleased to speak to us, Lord Agoeng! Now all the sadegs, every one of them, have been entered!" As soon as Bandjar had gone into ttance, she had stopped dancing with her fan. An offering of food Qsodan) was set before Bandjar on a tray, and a new brazier was brought and set down directly in front of him. The officiating priest called for the god's clothing: "Now the clothes! Come here, all those who bear them!" The followers of each sadeg produced their ceremonial clothes, each from his own basket. Djero Plasa called for her clothing, and then she got down from the pavilion, calling out, "How do you do, how do you do, Mother!" Her eyes were dilated, and she did not seem to recognize anyone. The singing as well as the orchestra had stopped as soon as Bandjar had gone into trance, so that the silence was noticeable. People spoke only in whispers, and everything seemed to be done in a hushed manner. Only Djero Plasa's voice could be heard.

Seance

265

She stood on the steps of the pavilion, having the clothes of the god put on her by the members of her family. She chanted to herself and seemed to be talking chiefly about the god while she was giving instructions. Roenoeh had begun to cry rather unbecomingly, a sort of sniffling with tears and the same sideways twitching of his head and face muscles. His ceremonial clothes were taken out of the basket by his family and were held over the braziers to be smoked before he was dressed in them. He cried rather pitifully as they dressed him. The officiating priest took the basket that contained the clothes of Goja, and after smoking them, he proceeded to dress Goja. A woman behind Siloeh Kompiang offered the basket to the priest to smoke for her god, and after he had done so, she dressed Siloeh Kompiang. There was great difficulty at this point in trying to dress Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar, for he simply fell limply in the men's arms. One man smoked the headdress, then passed it to someone else, and himself took the responsibility of trying to get Bandjar into his clothes. It ended by his laying the coat around his shoulders, and the other man tying on the head scarf while the first one tried to hold the head still. This was accompanied by a great deal of apology, "Beg pardon, Great Lord God [and so forth]." For each time they came anywhere near touching his head, they had to apologize to the god. 10:40 Djero Plasa meanwhile was down on the floor of the court, dancing while she was being dressed. The priest from Panti did the final dressing of Roenoeh, his family seated behind him propping him up. The officiating priest turned to dressing Μέπιέη Gentir. He smoked her headcloth and other raiment—a coat, a scarf, and a winding sash —while someone sustained her. At the conclusion of this, Djero Plasa had finally got dressed, and she came up the steps again and took her place with the others. 10:42 Now came the toilet of the gods who had descended and entered the bodies of the sadegs. There was the water jar, the tray filled with cleansing and beautifying perfumes and ointments, the bowl of water, and the "wardrobe." There was also a piece of white cloth, which was especially offered to the God of the Great Mountain in the person of Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar. This was in ful-

266

Appendix

fillment of a promise made to the god by one of the temple members if he should be cured of an illness. T h e officiating priest held u p the water jar, and the priest of Segara held u p the water bowl, and both chanted softly. T h e officiating priest then took the tray, holding all the little cups of cosmetics, and the other priest held the tray on which the "wardrobe"—a complete set of clothes—was folded, while the dedicating prayer was chanted. T h e n the officiating priest took a silver container of holy water, placed it on the cosmetic tray, chanted the appropriate prayer, took a flower, and sprinkled the holy water before him. This ritual passage symbolized the cleansing and beautifying of the gods. As final attention, a tray of flowers, called tjiri, or token, was passed to each of the sadegs. Djero Plasa refused to take hers at first. T h e priest then spoke to her in very polite language, after which she did take the flower, and he arranged it in her headcloth, during which performance she sang, not loudly but well. T h e priest then proceeded to dedicate the offerings. T h e n he invited the gods to speak. 10:50 Roenoeh was the first one to answer, and though it was impossible for me to understand anything that he said except the words God and Lord and Prince, he kept mumbling for some time. As he talked, all the sadegs began to talk. Some whispered, like Masi and Roekti, and Μέπιέη Gentir could be heard to say, "Yes, yes, I obey." Μέπιέη Gentir was leaning over so close to Djero Plasa that their noses almost touched. Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar spoke in a very low tone, and, though I was near to him, he seemed only to assent and he certainly had no message. Libations were poured by the priest, as it seemed that no one had any special revelation to make. 10:52 Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar came out of trance. H e shuddered violently and gurgled in his throat, then with a clap of his hands on his thighs, he came out of trance. His first movement after opening his eyes and blinking them was to stretch his hands out over the brazier in front of him and very slowly and reverently to smoke himself, his hands first held three times over the smoke, then rubbed together, then his face and chest smoked. After this he straightened u p and slid back on the pavilion and coughed. H e took off his fancy headdress and handed it to the man next to him, who

A helped to lift off his coat. T h e assistants smoked each garment over the brazier before folding it carefully and replacing it in the basket. While they were doing this, Bandjar reached for his everyday headcloth and wiped his face with it. T h e n he tied it around his head and asked me whether I knew what had become of his spectacles. I produced them from my bag where I had placed them when he upset the offerings. H e composed himself and had no more to say to anyone until the beginning of the dancing. Roenoeh in the meantime was coming out of trance with more violent movements. H e thrashed about a bit, and his face was contorted with pain as before. T h e n with a sort of shout he banged his fists on his thighs. H e was held u p by his family, and then in just a second he seemed to know where he was and moved forward a little, where he smoked himself much as Bandjar had done. Goja was next to come out of trance, and he did it without any noise or much movement—just a shudder and a clap of his hands, followed by rubbing his hands over his face and eyes. After that he opened his eyes and went through the same procedure of smoking himself. Each one of the people who had smoked himself after a minute or so reached forward and took a small leaf cup, poured arak into it, and with a word or two of prayer wafted the essence of it toward the gods, then spilled the libation. Μέπιέη Gentir followed Goja and came out of trance by shaking her body and giving a little cry as she raised her hands and let them fall with a clap on her knees. She immediately smoked herself and offered the libation. Djero Plasa was the next one, and she came out of trance with a very deep-throated series of sounds —words, calls, and deep rumblings—in which the name of her own god, Ratoe Madέ Kajangan, played an important part. She came out with one great deep groan or grunt and clapped her hands on her thighs. At the same time of her calling out, she had also been doing many arm movements, and her eyes were more dilated than ever. She immediately smoked herself with very much more gravity and seriousness than anyone else. She made the movements very deliberately, and, when she raised her hands over her head in the reverence, she held them very high with the tips pressed together and made a little silent prayer. After this she poured a libation. Kompiang,

Masi,

and

the

other

ingingan

Temple

Festival with Trance

women, came out of trance without any special idiosyncrades. They all shook, they all clapped their hands with more or less force on their thighs, they all leaned over and smoked themselves, but the most outstanding thing about the performance was that there was nothing unusual about it. They offered arak just as they should, and the whole procedure was just as drab as could be. THE

FINAL

DANCING

WITH

OFFERINGS

11:02 The ιηέηάέί (the dance with offerings) began with Djero Plasa and Μέιηέη Gentir leading. Both had removed their ceremonial finery, which had been smoked and replaced in the baskets. They now began the dance in front of the pavilion, where the High Priestess had performed the ritual in the afternoon. Djero Plasa was dancing with the incense brazier, and Μέιηέη Gentir with the water bowl. The moment that they took up the ceremonial objects and began to dance, they both seemed to be in trance. Djero Plasa was calling, talking, and at times almost shouting as she danced back and forth in front of the main shrine to the Great Mountain. She and Μέιηέη Gentir both danced with staring eyes, and though they followed each other very well, as they have danced as partners so often, after each offering to the shrine (they danced a series of three) they would clasp each other and dance and sing and even dance back to the pavilion to pick up more offerings. Masi, Djero Taman, and Roekti all danced during the prescribed m£nd&t, which they do very well, but none of them seemed to be going into trance again, with the possible exception of Djero Taman. They danced three times to the main shrine, each time the ingingan women carrying offerings, such as the tjanang rebong, plates of food, and trays of betel. The dancing began at about eleven o'clock and lasted until after three. I watched them, but it seemed to me there was nothing more to see except what time they stopped. They went three times to

267

Seance

each shrine in the court. After the first two, Goenoeng Agoeng and Batoer, Djero Plasa sat down on the raised pavilion and talked to Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar and the priest while Djero Taman took her place in the dancing. Djero Taman's place was then filled by Tompong. Μέπιέη Gentir continued throughout. She occasionally had a drink of arak, which she drank rather than spilling it on the ground. She lifted it, of course, and wafted its essence toward the god before she drank it. She sometimes slapped her hands on her thighs as she finished one round of dancing, did a lot of talking in a childish voice, and clung to the other women, so that she seemed to be in more of a state than she had been at the formal βέβηΰε. As the dancing went on, Djero Taman got more hysterical, and she and Masi looked as if they were in trance. Masi danced about with eyes half-closed and sometimes bumped into people. About three o'clock my watch stopped. When they came to the end of the dancing they all gathered in front of the main shrine to make their reverence to the God of the Great Mountain. This was the end of the performance. There were cries of "tjeriok, tjeriok," to speed the departing gods. PUTTING

THE

GODS

AWAY

The figures of the gods were taken down from the pavilion and a procession formed to escort them back to the house of Anak Agoeng Mad£ Metjoetan, to be put away in their "keeping place." The people from Panti also took down their gods, the masked figures, and followed the procession, returning to their own temple. T h e men of the orchestra told me that the temple was empty just as the first light began to come in the sky in the East. When the festival was one of the big odalans, then the gods were kept in the temple for three consecutive days. When this was the case, they were given full honor for the length of their stay, and the dancing with offerings, often accompanied by trance, would take place every day.

Appendix Β S1ND0E—MYTHOLOGICAL

K M collected the following typical Balinese "documentation" when she inquired about the origin of the two temples of Sindoe: T h e Brahmana family traced its origin back to the first family of the priestly caste said to have migrated to Bali from Java, emanating from the Madjapait dynasty of the fourteenth century. Reference is made to the famous lontar (palm-leaf book) known as Oesana Bali: "From Empoe Perada came Empoe Bawoela. His child was Empoe Tantoelar. Empoe Tantoelar had two children, Empoe Asemara Nata and Empoe Doeidjendra. Empoe Doeidjendra came to Bali from Madjapait and stayed at Gelgel during the reign of Dalem Bator Ringgong. From him came the present Brahmana caste in Bali. He had four children. When he first landed in Bali he stayed at Poelaki, which was a village of 8 , 0 0 0 people [on the northwest coast]. T h e four children were Ida Kemenoeh or Ida Koelon [meaning West]; I Dajoe Soeabawa, a girl, who remained at Poelaki, and who from her infancy was so holy that she was a priestess; Ida Noeaba or Ida Lor [North]; Ida Kenitan or Ida Wetan [East]; Empoe Doeidjendra proceeded with the three boys, leaving the girl priestess at Poelaki, and settled first near the village of Mas. In time he married the child of the Pangiran Mas and by that wife had a son, Ida Bagoes Mas, or Ida Kidoel ( S o u t h ) . " Thus, according to tradition, there were four branches of the Brahmana caste identified with the four directions, and besides this the priestess of Poelaki. T h e family of the founder of the village of Sindoe claimed descent from the Eastern branch, since he came from the Eastern district of Karang Asem. They said that in the spreading out of the family one group went to live at Sideman, and there established a temple known as the Poera Patal. In this temple was a shrine to the sister of the head of their branch, the Dewi Poelaki, the priest-

HISTORY

ess who had stayed behind at the place of landing. T h e name of the village where the founder of the village we were studying lived before he migrated was also Sindoe, a part of Sideman. W h e n the founder of Sindoe in the Badoeng district was invited by the King of Badoeng, the Southern district, to move from the Eastern district and given the grant of land on the coast, he built on his new lands the new Poera Patal as a home for his ancestral gods, "so that he would not have to return home" to worship. At the first festival celebrated in the new temple the gods testified to their removal there by a mekeraoehan (going in trance). T h e following story was told by the old lady, Pedanda Istri, who was the wife of the grandson of the founder Pedanda Gede Pidada: It took place when she was young and had just had her first child. A woman of Sanoer was walkingο alongο the beach near the spot famous for its tales of enchantment (where the Chinese ship was grounded that was made the cause of the Dutch invasion of the island). A very old woman walking with a cane stopped her and asked her if she knew where Sindoe was. W h e n she said that she did, the old woman said, "Tell the Pedanda Gede at Sindoe to make a shrine in the Poera Patal for the Dewi Poelaki. She wishes to come there to visit and has had great difficult}· in finding the place. She wishes it to be made ready for her for the next time she will be able to come." T h e Pedanda Gede straightway acted upon this advice and had built the gedong, or enclosed shrine, for the goddess in the Poera Patal. At the following anniversary festival, the Goddess Poelaki arrived, manifested herself by taking possession of the priest Qpemangkoe~) of the temple. She told in her utterance that she had brought in her retinue three tigers as guardians, the Matjan Ireng (Black), the Matjan Gading (Yellow), and the Matjan Poling

Sindoe—Mythological (Striped or Spotted). At a later time it was divulged that she also had twelve attendants Qringan), which were given a material form by the villagers as the twelve sanghyang boengboeng figures. These were charming little figures about eighteen inches high, made of bamboo, gaily dressed in bits of silk, and with golden faces. They were known as the dewa alit (little gods) and were also called "flowers" (sefear). Their "flower names" are as follows: Toemajoen manik tedja, Sekar Sandat (sandalwood flower), Sekar Gadoeng, Gadoeng Melati, Sekar Toendjoeng, Toendjoeng Beroe, Sekar Teleng, Sekar Djepoen, Sekar Minjeng, Toemajoen moetering Danoe, Desak Raka, Desak Rai. Of the people who first danced with the little figures there is only one old woman still living, the great-grandmother of some of the children with σ ο whom we were concerned. She was, unfortunately, too deaf to understand the questions we put to her. It was believed in the village that anyone who danced with one of the little figures would go into trance. Legend had it that the High Priest himself, the Pedanga Ged£ who had ordered the shrine made for the Goddess Poelaki, once tried dancing with one of the litde figures and went into violent trance. This in spite of the widespread feeling in Bali that High Priests, who practiced concentration and spiritual exercises in the yoga tradition, did not go into the trances of the laymen. Attached to the Poera Dalem, under the great

History

269

waringin tree which stood at the crossroads, was the place where the sanghyang boengboeng figures were set out when, according to specific instructions received through trance utterances, the people were to njedjer them. A shrine outside the temple and under the tree was said to be to Banaspati Radja, the patron deity of the Barong. Although there was no Barong in Sindoe, the Barong of Taman was borrowed to perform when one was needed, and the Rangda mask associated with it regularly appeared at the Sindoe festivals. When a performance of the Barong took place under the tree, the men who went in trance and stabbed themselves with krisses habitually made obeisance at this shrine to Banaspati Radja at the end of the performance. Another deity or group of deities locally known as "Geni Rawana" (possibly a corruption of Gandharva?) also inhabited this shrine, it was said, and when a person went in trance entered by this spirit, mucous would fall from his nose as if he had a bad cold in the head. W e never saw this specific effect occur. Some of the villagers also called this shrine outside the temple the Poera D£sa, although others did not agree. The fact was that this village had no separate Poera D6sa (Village Temple), ordinarily one of the indispensable temples for a village group to support. The Poera Dalem here we often heard referred to as the Poera Dalem D£sa, as if it took the place of both the Poera Dalem and the Poera D£sa.

Index and Glossary • Balinese words, except for proper nouns and titles of address, are in italics.

Adegan (puppet receptacle for soul), 12, 41 Adji (fatherJ, 22 Adjoeman offering, 248 Adoek (to stir u p ) , 222 Adoh, adoh (pain word) 127 A£ng (terrifying), 126 Agoeng (great), 45 Aloes (refined), 109 Ambengan (purifying grass), 122 Amok (psychosis), 3, 9, 224 Anak Agoeng (tide meaning great man), 67 Anak Agoeng Anom (title), 96 Anak Agoeng Ketoet Gentir (actor): odalans at Poera Dalem, Tegaltamoe, 81-95passim Anak Agoeng Ketoet Rami (trancer), figs. 13, 14; initiation or new sadeg, 49, 51, 52 Anak Agoeng Madö Bandjar (trancer), 29-31, 17; initiation of new sadeg, 48-52passim; odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259-67passim Anak Agoeng Madέ Lentjod (priest, trancer), 74 Anak Agoeng Madέ Metjoetan, 257 Anak Agoeng Njoman Sarwi (priest), 126, fig. 74; attitude toward Rawa, 130-37passim, 149; Neka and, 143; attitude toward Marsa in trance, 149; at ordered performance at Pagoetan, 163, 164, 166, 168; at odalan at Poera Babian, 169-79passim Anak Agoeng Oka (Balinese girl), 74 Anak Agoeng Si Ajoe (high caste woman), 40 Anak aloes dogen (polite, refined person), 151 Anak latjoer (poor m a n ) , 151 Anak tios (outsider), 130 Ancestor worship: taksoe and, 2; in household temples, 11, 17; at household-temple odalan in Intaran, 4 0 47 passim; in Goesti house-temple, 80; divination for finding baby's soul, 238-43, 243-49 Andja-andja (evil spirits in form of body parts), 137 Anger motif, 3, 223, 224 Anggeris (English?), 198 Angson-angson (dogs), 126 Antjog-antjog (dance step), 192 Apollonian configurations of culture, 1 Arak; libations in sadeg ritual, 20; in ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258-67passim Arak-berem (distilled liquor and wine mixed as libation), 41, 113, 122, 123

Art ja (temple object or objects): godly presence in, 1; Μέπιέη Gentir and, 27; of Poera Dfea, 28; theft of, from Sajan temple, 231-38passtm; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 257—67passitn Asoekina Centered"), 220 Atji-atji (worship), 219 Audience: suggestions in folk trance performances, 214, 225; behavior with sanghyongs of Selat, 254-55 Awak (body), 105 "Awayness," 6 B, G, see Bateson, Gregory Baby Djang£r, see DjangSr, baby Baby's soul, finding of: at Dewatan, 239—43; at Klandis, 243-49 Badjang (virgin), 73 Bajoe (strength), 221, 229 Bajoeng Gecfe (village): sanghyang doling dance, 181, figs. 94-100; sanghyang deling songs, 198; sanghyang dancers, 199 Bale agoeng (community ceremonial house), 17, 18, 22, 51 Bale bandjar (ward meeting house), 15, 97, 98 Bale Pedanda (High Priest's pavilion), 259 Bale pengeraoesan (speaking pavilion), 240 Bale piasan (exhibition pavilion), 19, 20, 26, 41, fig. 76 Balian (native doctor): role of, 2; "awayness" during trances, 6; treatment of illness by, 8; part in Tjalonarang play, 106, 107, 160; kinds of, 239-40; finding baby's soul, 239-43passim Balian ketakson (trance doctor), 2, 239, 240 Balian ngengngengan (trance doctor), 240 Balian oesada (lettered doctor), 3, 37, 38 Balian siksik, see Balian ketakson Balian tenoeng (divining doctor), 240 Balian wisada (lettered doctor), 2 Bamboo paddle, see Sanghyang kekerek Banaspati Radja (King of Demons), 32-33, 96, 138, 176, 269 Banas Poetih (corruption of Banaspati), 176 Bandjar ( w a r d ) : in Intaran District, 15, 17; see also Bale Bandjar Bandoeng, District of (around town of Den Pasar), 71-72

272

Index and Glossary

Banen tjokor, or banjen tjokor, or bartjoen tjokor (holy water in which gods' feet have been washed), 199, 247 Banggi (insulting), 209 Bangket (euphemism for divining), 241 Banja (deity), 92 Banten pengeloearang ("expelling" offering), 118 Baris dance, 71, 163 Baris play, 80 Barong (dragon and deity): antagonist of Rangda, 2; impersonators of, 3; Ketoet Roeroeng's impersonation of, 32, 33; in Gianjar District, 66; ritual in Tegaltamoe, 70, 72, 75, 252; at Tegaltamoe trance festivals at Poera Dalem, 80-95passim; at Dendjalan, 9 6 124, figs. 47, 48; at Poera Babian, Pagoetan, 125, 126; relationship with Ratoe Anom and man, 1 4 8 49; Marsa's impersonation of, 148, 253; personality of, at Pagoetan, 149; at Pagoetan performances, 159— 69passt»n, fig. 84; odalan at Poera Babian, Pagoetan, 170-79pas5»tn; at Sindoe festival, 269 Barong Bangkal (dragon with pig mask): Gianjar District, 70, 72, 77; Goesti house-temple festival, 7 8 79; Tegaltamoe trance festivals at Poera Dalem, 8 0 95passim; odalan at Poera Babian, Pagoetan, 170, 173 Barong K£t£t (dragon with lion mask): Gianjar District, 71, 72, 77; Goesti house-temple festival, 7 8 79; trance festivals at Poera Dalem, Tegaltamoe, 8 0 95 passim Barong Landoeng (tall masked figures, male and female): in Gianjar District, 72, 74, 75, 77; Goesti house-temple festival, 7 8 - 7 9 ; Tegaltamoe trance festivals at Poera Dalem, 80-95passim Barong masks: power of, in Gianjar District, 66; renovation rituals, 99, 116 Barong of Moentoer: relationship with Dendjalan Barong, 99 Barong play, 97 Batel (rhythm), 89, 91 Bateson, Gregory, vii; interpretation of trance performances, 3; study on Balinese culture, 6; analysis of feminine and masculine performance of «goerefe, 156; on sanghyang deling dance, 181; accounts on sanghyang performances, 183-95passin»; study of songs, 198; Sebatoe wood carvings 202n-203n Batoe (hala or demon): Neka entered bv, 75, 93, 140, 142, 143, 144; odalan at Poera Babian, Pagoetan, 172, 173, 176, 178 Batoeboelan, Palace of, 77 Batoer (god of mountain or lake Batoer), 72 Batoer (ward), 102 Bebai (evil spirits), 238 Bebaktaan or bebaktan (ceremonial objects), 81, 94 Beboeboetan (demon), 199 Beboeta (demon), 219 Beboetan (demon), 137 Bedji (bathing place shrine), 145 Behavior: van Wulfften Palthe's study on, in trance experience, 5 - 6 ; acceptability of aberrant, in different cultures, 7; normal or abnormal nature of trance manifestations, 8, 10 Bendesa (village official), 237 Benedict, Ruth, 1, 6

Bentjinggah (open space outside temple), 233 Bersih ( " c l e a n " ) , 73, 74 Besakih temple (head temple of Bali), 257 Betara Batoer (god of mountain), 22, 22n Betara Dalem (god of death), 22 Betara D£sa (god of village), 29 Betara Laboeh Api (god of falling fire), 22, 37 Betara Loemanglang (spirit), 138 Betara Sakenan (god), 126, 131 Betara Seri (goddess of rice), 219 Betel: in sadeg ritual, 20; at odalan at household temple in Intaran, 41—47passim; chewing of, 258 Betel offerings, see Tjanang offerings Betjik (beautiful), 198 Betting, at cockfight, 258 Bewegingstorm, 6 Biang (mother), 72 Big Belly (child), 56, 60, 61, 63 Black magic: Intaran District, 16 Black Tiger, 53, 268 Blahbatoe (village), 99 Blakioeh (village), 137n, 2 3 2 Blessing, of people at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258 Bodjog (monkey), see Sanghyang bodjog Boedjoeh expression, 119, 151, fig. 52 Boedoeh (crazy), 9, 223 Boeitan (village): trance performance at, 122-24 Boejar: at household temple odalan in Intaran, 4 2 - 4 7 passim Boelen (overcome), 223 Boeoeng ("all off"), 227 Boeta (demon), 1, 199, 258; see also Kala Bok Barak (demon with red hair), 142, 176 Bolles, Marjorie, 10η Botor, see Mangkoe Tegeh (kris dancer) Braksok (shredded fiber), 98 Brahma, 2 Brahmana caste: in Intaran District, 15; at Sindoe, 5 4 55, 268 Brahmana High Priest: officiating at Dendjalan, 99; presented in comedy scenes, 108 Brahmana High Priestess: in ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258 Brazier, see Incense brazier Broom, see Sanghyang sampat Burlesque dancing: at Dendjalan, 100 Calendrical festival, see Odalan Caste system: in Intaran District, 15; responsibilities in Sindoe village, 54—55; in Taman and Sindoe, 57n; picture in Gianjar District, 67; in Dendjalan, 96 Ceremonial, see Ritual Ceremonial clothes: dressing of sadegs, 18, 20; at odalan in household temple in Intaran, 44; for sanghyang performance, 183; for sanghyang memedi role, 211; in ritual at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 265 Champaka tree ( M i c h e l i a champaca), 259 Chicken-eating scenes: Dewa Ketoet, 139; Neka, 140, 141, 143, 144, 168, 178, fig. 81; Weweg, 114 Child Baris plav, 80

Index and Glossary bildren: as trance dancers, 4-5, 12; sanghyang performances, 27, 154, 216, 183-95passim; baby Djangir trances, 52-65, figs. 22-26; attitude toward trance manifestations, 100; trance behavior of, 154, 216, 252, 254; finding baby's soul, D^watan and Klandis, 2 3 9 - 4 9 tub, see Sekaha Dckfights: Dendjalan festivals, 99; odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258 Diling, see Sanghyang lilit linting oins, in divination ritual, 246; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 261 oming-out-of-trance: child trancers, 4; sadegs, 20; Djero Plasa, 25; at odalan in house temple, Intaran, 46; children, in baby Djangür ritual, 64; methods of, 105, figs. 5 6 - 6 1 , 100; children in sanghyang, 216; at Dendjalen performances, figs. 48, 56-61; at Pagoetan ordered performance, figs. 91, 93; at sanghyang deling performance, figs. 9 9 - 1 0 0 msciousness in trance, 147 Mitrol spirit, see Taksoe jnvulsive seizures: fighting and self-stabbing trancers, 3; Balinese interpretation of, 2 2 3 - 2 4 Dvamibias, Miguel, 76 :azy (hoedoeh), 223 rernation ceremonies, 12 rvstal gazing, 228 idi (be; become; used for going in trance), 254 idos (be; become; used for going in trance), 201, 254 »joe (title of Brahmana girl), 29 a joe Big Belly (child), 56, 60, 61, 63 ιksina offering, 113, 234 ιlang (puppeteer), 69, 71 dem Tangkas (deity), 247 ilem temple (temple of death), 219; see also Poera Dalem ince revival, 138 mginpeken (village), 47 ioenan (leaf-plates), 26, 43, 95, 261 tpdap trees, 209, 2 1 6 - 1 7 , 218, 222 irja (trancer), 204, 208-209, fig. 103; performance in sanghyang seripoetoet, 2 1 7 - 1 8 ; comments on sanghyangs, 219-22passim trma (trancer), 204, fig. 104; role of sanghyang lelipi, 209-10; comments on sanghyangs, 219-22 passim, 223; description of trance activities, 224 a d , spirits of the, 227 a t h Temple, see Poera Dalem; Poera Kajangan ftot (kris dancer), 101, 159, 162, 164 tdari (heavenly nymphs), 37, 202, 214, 216; see also Sanghyang dedari :er, song of the, 196, 197 ;geng (dancer), 122, 123 Hing (puppet), 180, 186, 190; see also sanghyang deling dodpeken (village), 32 :mons, see Kala; Beboeta; Beboetan; Beboeboetan; Boeta :n Pasar (city), 16, 54, 232 :ndjalan (village), 67, 96-124; rivalry between Tegaltamoe and, 75, 76, 252-53; competitive motives in festivals, 81; Rena's trance behavior and, 253,

273

ers in Tjclonarang play, figs. 32-36, 40-42; dancers, figs. 37-39, 4 3 - 6 5 Derewe (belong to), 68 D£sa (village), God of, 28 Desa (village), sadeg, see Siloeh Kompiang Desak Ad6 (kris dancer), 158 Desak Njoman (dancer), 100 Desires, role of, in trance experiences, 3, 7 - 8 Devereux, Georges, analysis of shamanism and ethnic psychoses, 8, 9 - 1 0 Dewa (gods and demons) 1 - 2 , 73n Dewa ajoe (song), 187 Dewa alit ("small gods"), 58 Diwa Gedi Senggoean (kris dancer), figs. 57, 58 D6wa Ijang (ancestral god), 41, 42 Diwa Ketoet Ketenang (trancer), 138-39, figs. 6 9 - 7 1 , 75; connection with Poera Babian, 126; Neka trance performance and, 143; at Pagoetan performances, 161, 166, 168, 169; at odalan of Poera Babian, 177; Rangda's impersonation by, 253 Diwa Kompiang Meranggi (trancer), fig. 65 Diwa Nini (rice goddess), 12 D^wa Poetoe Meranggi (priest), 112, 113, 114, 120, fe· 55 Diwa Poetoe Tantra (trancer), 102 Dewatan (village), finding a baby's soul, 239-43 Dewi Poelaki (priestess and goddess), 268 Dionysian configurations of culture, 1 Disassociated state in trance performances, 3, 153, 154 Divining, 2, 2 2 5 - 5 0 ; practicing of, by Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, 71; scene at ordered performance at Pagoetan, 160; techniques employed in Bali, 2 2 7 - 2 8 ; treatment of illness using trance, 228-31; fingernail divining for theft, 231-38; analysis of, 255 Djaban (space outside the gate), 116, 173 Djangkr (dance in a square), 55 Djangkr, baby, trance of, 52-65, figs. 2 2 - 2 6 Djanggol (trancer), 65 Djangoe (village), 219 Djantoek (kris dancer), 155, 158, 163-64, 165, fig. 74 Djaoek (masked figures), 97, 98, 101, 160 Djaran gading (yellow horse), see Sanghyang djaran gading Djaran poetih (white horse), see Sanghyang djaran poetih Djawa (Java; or any land outside Bali), 58 Djawata (touched; from njarvat, to touch), 182 Djerimpen offering, 241 Djero (title), 24 Djero Balian (priestess), 182, 187 Djero Ged£ (demonic bringer of plague), 58 Djero Plasa (trancer), 2 2 - 2 5 , figs. 1, 2, 6, 10, 11; friendship with Mem^n Gentir, 26; Siloeh Kompiang and, 28, 29; attitude toward Goja, 38; at odalan at household temple in Intaran, 41-47passim; at initiation of new sadeg, 49-50, 51; analysis of trance behavior, 251; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259—67passim Djero Singgih (engengan woman), 259 Djero Soemboe (diviner), 2 3 1 - 3 2 Djero Soka (trancer), 74, 89, 90 Djero Taman (dancer), 267

274

Index and Glossary

Djim (trancer), 79 Djodog (kris dancer), 150, 161, 163 Djoeroe boos (spokesman), 137 Djoeroe sapoeh ("sweeper," priest), 92, 147, 175n Doctor, see Balian Doeda (village), 202, 219 Does Doeg (trancer), 49, 50-51, 52 Doekoeh Batoer (name of Witch), 159 Doerga or Durga (deity), 2, 22n Doerja (story expert of Pagoetan; actor), 130, 160, 161 Doeroeng mekanten ("not yet clear"), 227 Doeroeng terang ("not yet clear"), 227 Doersi (dancer), 26 Doll-gods: connection with baby Djanger dancers, 58, 59-60; girls carrying, 61; for sanghyang seripoetoet, 217-19; see also Sanghyang boengboeng Dongkang (toad), see Sanghyang dongkan Dorsainvil, J. C., 7 Dragon, see Barone Dragonfly, in sanghyang song, 196, 197 Durga, see Doerga Dutch conquest, influence of, 54 East Club, see Sekaha Kangin Education, in Intaran District, 16 Ego drives, as motivation for trance practitioner, 4, 255 EUg-eUgang or ilog-Hogang (wiggling hips), 197 filing (remember, come out of trance), 221 Empoe Doeidjendra, 268 Endih (balls of fire), 22 Engingen (trance medium), 17, 18; dancing by, 20; term defined, 37; at odalan at household temple in Intaran, 40-47passim; at initiation of new sadeg, 49, 51; at ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259-67pasjitn Engot-engot (dance motion), 193 Engsap (forget, unconscious), 128, 220 EnUd palm (stiff leaves such as are used to write on), 83 Entog (dancer), 41-47posjjm Erickson, Milton H., 4, 224 Ethnic psychoses, 9 Ethnic unconscious, 8, 9, 10 Evil, exorcism for forces of, 199 Evil spirit, see Sanghyang memedi Fake trances, 153 Family, 70 Fans, in sanghyang performances, 187, 189 Father god, relationship with Barong and Rangdas at Pagoetan, 148 Festival: significance of trance experience and, 11; role of masks and dancing in Gianjar District, 66; see also Odalan Fingernail divining: practice by Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, 71; for theft, 231-38; analysis of, 255 Flowers: in Sindoe village ceremonials, 53; names of gods, 63n; in ritual at Poera Agoeng odalan, Intaran, 258, 266 Folk songs: importance of, in temple festivals, 19; in sadeg ritual, 20; sanghyang deling songs of Kinta-

mani District, 187, 195-200; sanghyang songs of Selat District 204, 206, 210, 211, 212, 216, 221 Folk trances, 4-5, 201-25 Gaberoeg (trancer), 155, 164—67passim Gabor dance: Gianjar District, 71, 79, 80, 82, 83-84; Dendjalan, 100; Poera Dalem temple, 109; Boeitan, 122 Gagapan (present), 176 Galoengan (New Year's day), 232 Gamboeh play, 71,99, 116 Gamelan orchestra: at household temple odalan, Intaran, 40—47possifn; performances in Gianjar District, 116; Boeitan performances, 122; at odalan of Poera Babian, Pagoetan, 174; sanghyang performances^ 185, 187, 189, 191 GB, see Bateson, Gregory Gedjir (actor), 101 Gedong (enclosed shrine), 268 Gedong Ageng (Big Shrine), 130 Gegaloeh (palm-leaf puppets), 12; dancing with, in temple festivals, 19; ritual for, 20; odalan at household temple in Intaran, 40-47passim; trance festivals at Tegaltamore, 83, 84; odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 257-58, 259-60 Gegilakan movement (crazy movement), 122, 123 Gelalang geliling (roll), 206 Geledet (kris dancer), 152, 163 Gelem (ill), 135 Geni Rawana (deity), 269 Geredag (trancer), 64 Geredet (Balinese man), 34, 35 Gerijana Kaoeh (village), 213 Gering (spirit bringing illness), 56, 58, 59, 199 Geroet (Pemangkoe Segara), 259, 260 Gianjar District, 66-179: Tegaltamoe, 68-95; Dendjalan, 96-124; Pagoetan, 124-79; analysis of trance behavior in, 252 Gilakan (dance melody), 174 Giri Kesoema (god), 30 Giri Poetri (deity), 22n Girl trance dancers, 4-5; at Pagoetan, 153, 155-69; sanghyang deling dance, 180-200, figs. 94-100; analysis of behavior, 254 Giweng (sadeg), 259, 260 GM, see Goesti Mad£ Soemeng God of the sea, 75 Godly representations, see Tapakan Gods: Balinese beliefs regarding, 11; exhibition of, 19; inconsistencies regarding sex of, 22n; at Tegaltamoe, 72; Balinese conception on manifestation of, 148-49; procession to bath at Poera Babian odalan, 170; divining in relation to, 227; see also Diwa Goematar-goemitir (trembling), 197 Goenoeng Agoeng (Great Mountain), god of the, 29, 257, 264, 265, 267 Goenoeng Agoeng, sadeg, see Anak Agoeng Mad6 Bandjar Goesti (title of Wesya caste), 68 Goesti Adji Mokoh, 68, 69, 70, 81-95passi»n, fig. 28 Goesti Biang, see Goesti Poetoe Kepik Goesti family, 67, 6&-95passim

Index

and Glossary

Goesti Gedjir (trancer), 71; odalans at Tegaltamoe, 88—94passim; violent trance by, 142 Goesti Mad£ (a priest of Pagoetan), 70, 94 Goesti Madi Gedjir, 74 Goesti Madi Lentjod, 88 Goesti Madέ Soemeng (secretary), vii; notes on Intaran District festivals, 40; report on Goesti house-temple festival, 78-79; report on hired trance performance of Barong, 112-14; observations on Rawa, IBB; recording of folk trance sanghyangs, 205-207; reports on villagers' comments on sanghyangs, 219; account of fingernail divining, 231-38 Goesti Ngoerah, 73, 75 Goesti Ngoerah Bend6sa, 84 Goesti Ngoerah Gedi (trancer), 70 Goesti Ngoerah Madέ Koeta (trancer), 70 Goesti Ngoerah Majoen, 68, 69, 70-71, 99», figs. 27, 31; in odalans at Poera Dalem in Tegaltamoe, 8 1 9 5 passim Goesti Ngoerah Oka (actor), 71 Goesti Ngoerah Poedja, 78, 84 Goesti Ngoerah Poetoe Bantjih (Hermaphrodite), 69, 71, 74, 79, fig. 30; Tegaltamore trance festivals, 89, 93, 94 Goesti Ngoerah Rai, 68, 70; in odalans at Poera Dalem in Tegaltamoe, 81—95passim Goesti Ngoerah of Tegehkoeri, 72 Goesti Oka (trancer), 89 Goesti Poetoe Kepik (Goesti Biang) (trancer), 69-75 passim, fig. 29; house-temple festival, 78, 79, 80; in odalans at Poera Dalem, Tegaltamoe, 81-9 5 passim Goesti Poetoe Soebali (trancer), 74, 79; at trance festivals in Tegaltamoe, 82-95passim Gog (trancer), 150, 152, 161, 163 Goja (trancer of Intaran), 37-39, figs. 12, 15; at household temple odalan, Intaran, 42, 43; at initiation of new sadeg, 49, 50-51; at odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259—266passim Goja (villager of Selat District): comments on sanghyangs, 219-22passim Grader, C. ]., 198 Great Mountain, see Goenoeng Agoeng Hand-washing ritual, 240, 245 Haiti, voodoo and possession in, 7-8; trance manifestations, 224 Harris, Grace, 7 Heavenly nymph, see Dedari; Sanghyang dedari; Widiadari Hermaphrodite, see Goesti Ngoesti Poetoe Bantjih Herskovits, Melville J., 7-8 High Priests: role in Intaran District, 15; household temples of, 17; role in Sindoe, 54 Hindu castes, influence of Dutch conquest on, 54 Holmgren Wool Test, 10η Holy water: in Dendjalan trance performances, 104, 105-106, fig. 61; sanghyang performances, 183, 216; name for kind of, 199; use of, for coming out of trance, 216; ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258-67possim Horse sanghyangs, 202, 213-14, fig. 102 Hot coals: sanghyang deling dance on, 180, 181; in trance seance, 263

275

Household temples: ancestor worship in, 11, 17; odalan at, in Intaran, 40-47; festival of Goesti family, 78; divination in, 240 Hypnotic trance: Erickson's study of, 4; as basis of fingernail divination, 71; comparison of sanghyang performer with hypnotic state, 212-13 Hysteria, trance manifestations and, 5, 6 I (title prefixed to names of males), see under name following Iboe (mother), 72 lboek (overcome), 223 Ida Bagoes Alit, 55, 63 Ida Bagoes Mad6 (doctor), 32, 33 Ida Bagoes Rai, 62 Ida Bagoes Raka (sadeg), 32, 37 Ida Bagoes Teroewi, 111 Ida Poetoe (child trancer), 63 Ida Tjokorda Rai (prince), 237 Idiosyncratic behavior, 21, 49 Ikan pai (fish), 30 Illness: as sign for trance mediums, 8-9, 21; story of cure by Ketoet Roeroeng, 34—36; odalan at household temple prescribed for, by sadegs, 40-47; words used for, 199; treatment of, using trance, 228-31; trance in relation to, 252 Impurity, 134 lmu (psychosis), 9 Incarnation, divination for baby's soul and, 238-49 passim Incense brazier: in sadeg ritual, 20; Μέιηέη Gentir ritual with, 27; Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar procedure, 31; at initiation ceremony of new sadeg, 50; smoking over, in "coming out" procedure, 105—106; in sanghyang performances, 183, 216; in divination ceremonial, 240, 242, 245; role in ritual at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258—67passim; burning of incense, 262 Inggeris (English?), 198 Initiation: of sadeg, 18, 21, 47-52; of Siloeh Kompiang, 28-29; of trance dancers at Bajoeng Gedi, 182, 189; of sanghyang, by touch, 254; see also Njakapan he diwa Intaran District, 14-65; sadegs, 14-39, fig. 1-20; stance, 39-40; odalan at household temple, 40-47; baby Djanger trance at Sindoe, 52-65; gerings, 199; analysis of trance personalities and behavior, 251, 252; odalan of Poera Agoeng, 257-67 Intoegan (kris dancer), 153, 158, 162, 163 lringan (attendants), 269 Jak (masked players), 98, 152 Jang Api, see Kajang Api Jangin (to animate), 73 Java, puppet performances, 12 Κ, M, see Mad£ Kakr Kadja (mountain-wards, in South Bali, north), 185 Kajangan temple, 24 Kajang Api (name of Barong Landoeng in Tegaltamoe), 72, 74 Kajoe Kapas (village), 181 Kajoen (village boy), 233-38, figs. 107-108

276

Index and Glossary

Kala (demon); accompanying gods coining down, 1; in Tegaltamoe, 73, 74; at Poera Babian, 125; Rawa and, 128, 129 Kalan Djaja (demon), 137 Kalan Taka (demon), 137 Kamben (Balinese form of sarong), 18, 37 Kartala (clown), 96, 160, 161 Kasoesoepan ("seeped into," term for going in trance), 204» KJbijar-kebijoer (light and flitting), 197 Kedas (clean), 74 Kehmpin (classic poetry), 44 Kekerek (paddle of bamboo), 214, 215 Kelihan or Klian (elder, chief), 56 Kelod (the direction of the sea), 199 Ke loewoer (to the upper world), 177 Kepangloeh (to go in trance), 220 Kepbigs (Chinese coins), 189 Keping (dried to a crisp), 167 Kepoes poengsed (term for the falling off of the umbilical cord), 239 Kerangsoekan ("entered," in trance), 220 Keraoehan ("entered," in trance), 64, 111, 201, 220, 254 Kertanegara, King of, 159 Kesaktian (magic power), 29 Kesar-kesir (to ana fro), 197 Kesiman, District of, 226 Kesisipang ("to be made ill by the gods as a punishment"), 135, 242 Ketedoenan ("come down into," to go in trance), 220 Ketjas-ketjos (jumping about), 197 Ketoet (tide of fourth-born child), 207 Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda (secretary), vii, 56, 62 Ketoet Roeroeng (sadeg), 32-36; at household temple odalan in Intaran, 42-47passim; analysis of trance behavior, 251 Kidoeng (chant), 245 Kintamani District, 180-200 Kintjang-kintjoeng (dance), 20, 37 Kisid (girl medium), 234, figs. 107-108 Kitjen (trancer), 79 Klandis (village), 243-49 Klian (elder; head of organization), 182 KM, see Mershon, Katharane Koeda kepang (Java performances of horse and rider trances), 213 Koelit (trance medium tide), 17, 21, 22, 23, 37 Koelit Dalem, see Goja Koelit Kajangan, see Djero Plasa Koel-koel (wooden slit-gong), 78 Koeloek (puppy), see Sanghyang koeloek Koempi (great-grandfather), 239 Koma (child trancer), 62, 63 Koro (psychosis), 9 Kotes-koUs (dance movement), 187, 191 KP, see Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda Kris (dagger): use by fighting and self-stabbing trancers, 3, 62; ngoerek with, 89; as phallic symbol, 121; Rawa's desire for, 128 Kris dances: performances at Sindoe, 57n, 63n; at Dendjalan, 96-124, figs. 43--46; trance behavior during, 106, 153, 254; modes of doing ngoerek, 120-

21, figs. 46, 49-51; male dancers of Pagoetan, 15055; figs. 77-80; preliminary and secondary, 153; contrast between masculine and feminine performance of ngoerek, 155-56; female dancers of Pagoetan, 155-59, figs. 72-74, 86-88, 92; Pagoetan ordered performance, 159—69passim Krotjot (trancer), 98 Kwangin (offering), 84 Labaan poetih koening (white and yellow offering), 167 Lajak-lajak (bend backward), 197 Lali (to forget), 221 Lamak (panel hung from a shrine or worn as an apron by dancers), 183 Lameg (dancer), 188 Lamps, see Sanghyang sembe Landis, Carney, 10« Laoeh (trancer), 63 Laroeng, see Raroeng Lasia (dancer), 186, 188, 189, 193 Latah (psychosis), 9 Latri (kris dancer, trancer), 155, 164, 165, 166 Lega pisan (very delicious), 210, 221 Ligong dance: sanghyang ddling dance and, 180; movements in, 192, 193 Lejak (witch-like spirits): belief in, 9; Μέη Goblfeh and, 57, 58; attacks by, 74, 76; in Tjcdonarang play, 97, 106-107; in Dendjalan performances, 107; in Pagoetan performances, 152, 160 Lelipi (snake) see Sanghyang lelipi Lemoen (trancer), 57«, 62 Lemon (trancer), 170, 171 Lenda (name of witch's pupil in play, Pagoetan), 159 Lendi (name of witch's pupil in play, Pagoetan), 159 Lesoeng (rice-pounding mortar), see Sanghyang lesoeng Leteh (uncleanness), 147, 177 Lettered doctors, see Balian oesada; Balian wisada Libation ritual, see Metaboeh Libido, as motivation of trance practitioner, 255 Likak-likoek (back and forth), 197 Lilit linting (coiling), 197, 215 Lindner, Less, 119 Lion, figure of, in temples of Gianjar District, 66; see also Barong Κέίέt Loekat (purifying offerings), 247 Loembang (Balinese man), 57 Loengsoer (village boy), 233-38), figs. 107-108 Lontar (palm-leaf book), 268 M, G, see Goesti Made Soemeng Μ, K, see Mershon, Katharane Μ, M, see Mead, Margaret Madi Djaboeng (leader of acting club), 98, 102, 105, fig. 63 Madi Gedoe (priest), 113, 114 Mad£ Kater (secretary), vii; report on Rawa, 132, 133, 137; accounts on sanghyang performances, 183—95 passim; sanghyang deling songs, 196, 198 Madö Tjenik (trancer), 155 Magic: Intaran District, 16; Djero Plasa's powers, 23;

Index

and

Anak Agoeng Made Bandjar's powers, 30; power of masks, 75, 76; pasangan, 230 Malih inget, malih ten (once more to remember [become conscious], once more not), 105 Mattesin (lit. to make hot; to make trouble for), 247, 248 Mangkoe Dalem (priest), fig. 35 Mangkoe Ged£ (priest), 26, 122, 123 Mangkoe Tegeh (priestess, trancer), 111-12, figs. 71, 73; timing of ngoerek performance, 123-24; at kris dances, 155, 156, 158-59; at ordered performance at Pagoetan, 163—69pass»m; at odalan at Poera Babian, 170-79pessitn MangoeUmat (like falling leaf), 197 Manoesa sakti (witch, lit. magically powerful person), 247 Mantoek ("to go home to heaven"), 126 Mantra (prayer): in sadeg ritual, 19, 20; in s£ance in Intaran District, 46; recited by priest, 198-99; divination for baby's soul, 244 Mapinoenas (divining), 232 Mapoepoet ("ceremonially complete"), 45 Maring (child trancer), 63 Marriage relationships, 70 Marsa (trancer), 144-50; connection with Poera Babian, 126; denunciation of Rawa, 134-35, 176-78; Anak Agoeng Njoman and, 136, 137; trance at odalan at Poera Babian, 171-79passitn; analysis of trance behavior, 253 Mas Ajoe (god), 46 Masi (dancer and trancer), 26, fig. 9 at odalan at household temple, Intaran, 41, 42, 46; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259-67passim Masks: animated by godly presence, 2; as representatives of gods, 3; attached to figurines representing gods, 11, 258-67posswn; of Μέη Gobkh, 56n; Rangda mask, 57; power of, in Gianjar district, 66; Barong masks, 66, 99, 116; magic power of, 75, 76; relationship with god and man, 148-49 Matjan ( T i g e r ) , 72 Mead, Margaret, vii; interpretation of trance performances, 3; study of Balinese culture, 6; account of baby Djangir trance, 60-61; report on Rawa, 133; suggestions on Poera Babian festival, 134»; account of Ngales' behavior, 155-56; sanghyang d£ling dance, 181; accounts on sanghyang performances, 183-95pessim; sanghyang d£ling songs, 198 Mehakti (to make a reverence, to worship), 81, 84, 170, 260 Mebaltk edit (to become as a small child), 217 Mebiasa (dance with spears and parasols), 20, 94 Medatangan ("coming of the gods"), 63 Medicine: song for asking, 198; Roebag's illness and, 228 Mediums, 2 - 3 , 63n, 227 Megenah (to be in place, to know where one is), 221 Mekebat daoen (ritual feast), 95 Mekelepet (explosion), 76 Mekemit (allotment of guard duty to temple members), 95 Mekeraoehan (going in trance, lit. to come into), 4 4 46, 52, 268 Mekidoeng (chanting), 189

Glossary

277

Mekiis (god's procession to the sea), 76, 99 Mekintjang-kintjoeng (music and dance connected with trance), 94 Melantjaran (god's going for a walk, procession), 78 Melts (temple purification rite), 82 Meloeasang (divining), 232 Meloek ( b e n d ) , 197 Melok-melok ( b e n d ) , 197 Memedi (evil spirit), 220-13, 219 Memendak (ceremonial of the gods' reception), 81 Μέιηέη Gentir (trancer), 25-29; figs. 3, 4, 10, 11; partner of Djero Plasa, 25; Siloeh Kompiang and, 28, 29; at odalan at household temple, Intaran, 4 1 47|fassim; at initiation of new sadeg, 49, 50, 52; analysis of trance behavior, 251; in ritual at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259-267pass»m Mernes (dancer), 100 Mendet (temple dance with offerings): Intaran District, 19, 20; at initiation ceremony of new sadeg, 51; in Ojangir ritual, 60; Gianjar District, 71; final dance at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 267 Menik teroena (rise to youth's status), 221 Mengelingling (to make humming cry), 197 Μέη Gobteh (witch-like personage having a special shrine in Intaran District), 56, 57-58 Men Gondjo (villager), 239-43 Mengwi (village), 99 Menjeregseg (aance step, to the side), 187 Men Polih (dancer), 184, 188, 189 Men Rabeg, see Ngales Men Sengkoeg (petitioner at divination), 248, 249 Men Soeni (dancer), 188 Meoerip-oerip (ritual bringing to life), 99 Mepaloe (fight, contest between animals), 207 Mepamit (goodby), 77 Mepelinggihan (sitting place), 72 Meradjan (house-temple of upper caste), 79 Meranggi, see Anak Agoeng Njoman Sarwi Merastjita (purified), 147, 177 Mershon, Katharene, vii; work in Intaran District, 15; account on sadeg of Intaran District, 18-39; Mimen Gentir and, 26; Anak Agoeng Mad£ Bandjar and, 30; Ketoet Roereng and, 33; account on Goja, 38-39: attendance at 40; at odalan at household temple, Intaran, 42; account of initiation of new sadeg, 47-52; settling near Sindoe, 55; notes on institution of baby Djangir, 55-56, 57-58; account of Djangir dancers, 62-64; report on Rawa, 131-33; account of Seri Ada divination, 228-31; account of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 257-67 Mesakapan (term for wedding ceremony, used for validation of trance medium's role), 48 Mesakapan ke dexea (initiation ceremony, lit. marriage to the god), 2 1 , 2 5 , 27 M£sawadana (name of witch's pupil in play at Pagoetan), 159 Mesded (ritual circumambulation of shrine), 81, 83, 85 Mesegeh (ritual of making a ground offering), 82 Mesegeh agoeng (big mesegeh), 82, 94 Meseladoekan (dance movement "stirred u p " ) , 85, 117 Meserana (magical), 199 Metaboeh (ritual libation), 82, 94 Metidja (become, euphemism for to be reborn), 242

278

Index and Glossary

Metjoba-tjoba (ordered performance), 145 M^traux, Alfred, 8 Meweda (to recite vedas, prayers), 259 Miak njepih offering, 248 Mijang (to animate, to be reincarnated in), 241 Mind reading, fingernail divination a form of, 71 Minister (character of Tjalortarang play at Pagoetan), 159, 161 Misawedana, see Mesawadana Misi (child trance dancer): as Wadi's partner, 182; sanghyang performances, 187-95passim; trance behavior, 254 MK, see Madi Kaler M M , see Mead, Margaret Moedera (trancer), 121, fig. 50 Moedri (dancer), 183, 186 Moenet (dancer, trancer), 155 158, 160, 163 Moenggah (lit. to go up, of the gods; term for to come out of trance), 189, 194 Moenggal (lit. to cut off the head, used for the separation of the Barong mask from coat and trappings), 99 Moentoer (village), 77, 99 Moerda, see Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda Mohave culture, shamanism in, 9 Moksah (to die, departing the earth without leaving a body), 101 Momo (bad as a spoiled child), 147, 177 Momoan (badness), 147, 177 Mongkog (priest), fig. 62 Monkey, see Sanghyang bodjog Montor (child trancer), 62, 63 Mother Temple, see Poera Iboe Mudra (High Priest's ritual hand gestures), 259 Music, 20; see also Gamelan orchestra; Redjang Music; Folk songs Mythological serpent, see Naga Nadi (to go in trance), 201, 220, 221, 254 Nodos (to go in trance), 201, 219, 221, 254 Naga (serpent), 83 Nang Karma (head of club), at sanghyang performances, 182-90passim, 194, 195 Nang Madera (dancer), 184, 193 Nang Ngetis (dancer), 188 Nang Saboeh (dancer), 186 Nang Toeroen, see Marsa Napak (to come down into the entranced, god speaking [cf. tapakan]), 175, 176 Neka (trancer), 139—44; entered by god of Rangda, 74, 75; odalans at Tegaltamoe, 86-93passim; connection with Poera Babian temple, 126; Rawa and, 132, 133; entered by I Batoe, 137; trance behavior, 145, 253; at Pagoetan performance, 165—68passim, figs. 8 1 - 8 5 ; at odalan at Poera Babian, 170—79passim Neurosis, 7, 9 Ngadeg (lit. to stand, used of gods appearing in the entranced), 43 Ngajah (lit. to work, to pay one's ceremonial dues to the temple), 85 Ngales (kris dancer), 155, 156-57, 164, 165, 167, 169, figs. 86-88 Ngaloeang (divining for baby's soul), 239, 243

Nganten dewa (ceremony for trance practitioner, "to marry the god"), 21 Ngatep (ceremony of joining Barong's mask to coat and trappings), 99, 116 Ngatoerang tetangi (ritual meaning to offer the gods an awakening), 78 Ngedap sepera (half-conscious), 221 Ngedot (to have a powerful desire), 128 Ngelajak (dance figure), 193 Ngelelente (fluttering), 197 Ngelepat (to fall in a fit), 210 Ngeletehan (impure), 134 Ngeloearang (coming out of trance, lit. expelling of the gods), 99, 105 Ngeloengaang (term for the gods' being taken for a walk, from loenga, to go forth), 78 Ngeloewoer (come out of trance, lit. to go to the upper world of the gods), 78 Ngemboet (dancer), 183, 184-85, 188 Ngembon (first wife of Geredet), 3 4 - 3 6 Ngenah (to appear), 226, 238 Ngenoe (baby), 188 Ngeramang sawa (in a daze), 105 Ngeraoehang (to be entered by the god), 99 Ngereboet (to attack), 128 Ngerehang (test of magical power of mask), 75, 76, 80, 98, 99, 140, 145 Ngigelang gegaloeh (to dance the puppets), 41, 83 Ngoenjing (self-stabbing in trance, ngoerefe), 111 Ngoerek (self-stabbing in trance), 3, 4, 106; by Barong's followers, 66; at Tegaltamoe, 73, 74, 77; at odalan at Poera Dalem, 89, 90; Dendjalan performances, 96, 97, 98, 105; little boys practicing, 100; done by women, at Dendjalan, 103; Rena's performance of, 103, 253; Weweg's performance, 109, 110, 111; Njoman Gangsar's performance, 117; modes of doing, by kris dancers of Dendjalan, 1 2 0 - 2 1 , 153, figs. 46, 4 9 - 5 1 ; typical behavior during, 123; Rawa's attitude toward, 128, 253; contrast between masculine and feminine performance, 155-56; by pure and unclean subjects, 252 Ni (tide prefixed to names of females), see under name following Ni Keboen (nickname, "Miss Top-Knot"), 26 Nini (rice goddess), 12 Njadangin (to catch), 144 Njakapan ke dewa (initiation ceremony, "marriage of the god"), 28 Njaloekin (to wear a mask or perform in the Barong), 213 Njawat (to touch), 182, 189, 254 Njeregseg (dance step), 187, 192 Njoehkoening (village), 231 Njoman Ada (trancer), 111 Njoman Gangsar (player and kris dancer), 115-18, fi^f. 34, 56, 62 Njonjah (lady), 55 Noemadi (incarnation), 245 Noemitis Pandji (incarnated by Pandji, a legendary figure), 71 Nymph, heavenly, see Dedari; Sanghyang dedari; Widiadari

Index and Glossary Object sanghyang performances, 214—16 Object Sorting Test, 10η Occasional trancers, 3 Odalan (calendrical festival), 12, 17; at household temple, Intaran, 40-47; at Poera Dalem of Tegaltamoe, 81-95; Goesti family house-temple, Gianjar District, 80; in Dendjalan, 98-99, 99-100, 103; at Poera Babian, 169-79; sanghyang performance at Poera di Panti, 182-85; at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 257-67 Odalan medoedoes (festival), 26, 30 Odalan pedoedoesan (festival), 68; of Poera Dalem, 76-78 Odalan pepoedakan, at Poera Dalem, 80 Oeboed (town), 219 Oenen-oenen (demons), 134 Oesaba season, 219, 221 Oesana Bali (book), 268 Offerings: at temple festivals, 19; for sadegs, 20; at odalan at household temple in Intaran, 40—47possim; at initiation of new sadeg, 48-52passim; in Sindoe village ceremonials, 53—6Spassim, fig. 21; to Barong and Rangda masks in Gianjar District, 66; baby Djanger trance and, 57; in fingernail divining, 234; for divination of baby's soul, 240, 244; awareness of, in trance state, 253; in ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258, 259; see also under specific names such as Daksina offering, Kvoangin, Tjanang offerings, etc. Oka (child), 22 Olas (kris dancer), 150 Ompog, (actor, trancer): role in Tjalonarang play, 101, 102, 137; Rawa and, 130, 131; role of Ratoe Babian, 152; at ordered performance at Pagoetan, 161, 166, 167, 168; Ordered performances: charges for, 130; Gianjar District, 131-34; Neka at, 141; Pagoetan, 159-69; sanghyang performances, 186-95 Ordination, see Initiation Orientation, trance state and, 224-25 Ρ, K, see Ketoet Pemangkoe Moerda Padangdawa (village), 72-73 Pagoetan (village), 67, 127-79; relations between Tegaltamoe and, 75; Rangda from, at Tegaltamoe festivals, 80; competitive motives in festivals, 81; relations between Dendjalan and, 102; personality of trancers, 124-50, figs. 66-71; male kris dancers, 150-55, figs. 77-80; comparison with Taman performances, 154; female kris dancers, 155-59, figs. 72-74, 86-88, 92; ordered performance, 159-69, figs. 75, 76, 82-91; odalan at Poera Babian, 169-79 Pagoetan North (ward), 102 Pagoetan South (ward), 102 Pajoe (dancer), 187 Pajoe (to happen, to go through), 135 Paling (having lost the sense of direction; term for going in trance), 190, 224 Pandji (legendary figure), 71 Panggoengan (temporary shrine erected at festivals outside temple gate), 81, 82, 116, 117

279

Pan Manis (saiieg), 37 Pan Poegig (Poegig's father), 239-48pass»m Panti (village), 258-59, 267 Pan Warsa (villager), 238 Ρasah (a day of the three-day week), 232 Pasangan (magical device), 230 Pasoepati (initiation ritual), 73, 80, 99 Patih (King's Minister in plays), 73 Patoet (right), 135 Pavilion, see Bale Pebersihan (toilet tray), 45, 81 Pedanda Ged6 Pidada (Brahmana High Priest), 268, 269 Pedanda Istri (Brahmana High Priestess), 57n, 25867passtm, 268 Pedanda Madi Sideman (Brahmana High Priest), 226 Pedjati offerings, 177 P£dj£ng (village), 82 Pegambangan (bandjar, ward), 71, 78, 81, 102 Pegatinin (from pegat, to break off), 263n Pelih (wrong, mistaken), 135, 147, 177 Pelinggihan (sitting place), 11 Pemajoen (a ceremony), 21, 27 Pemaksan (member of temple congregation), 71 Pemangkoe (temple priest), 21, 268; Μέπιέη Gentir as, 26; of Sindoe temples, 53 Pemankoe Gedi (temple priest), 22, 40-47passim, 257, 259, 260, fig. 16 Pemangkoe Kajangan (priest), fig. 62 Pemangkoe Segara, see Geroet Ρemaradjan (household temple of high caste people), 11 Pemendak (reception of the gods, temple dance), 71, 79, 117 Pemidjilan (emergence from heaven; birth), 241 Penasar (character in plays), 96, 101, 107 Penawar offering, 46 Pengadegan (title of trance medium), 17, 37 Pengeleb offering, 75, 79, 80 PengitjM (rapid musical movement), 85 Pengiwa (black magic), 23 Penjoe (turde), see Sanghyang penjoe Pepatih (King's Minister in plays), 74 Peras-penjeneng offerings, 199 Perastjita (purification ceremony), 147 Pered^wa (low Satryas), 96 Peregina (players), 71 Perekangge (term for trance dancer), 37 Perekoelit (tide of trance medium), 17, 37, 52, 243 Pererai (faces of wood for god figures), 11, 83 Pererepan ("sleeping place," name of Barong's temple), 96, 126 Peresanak (trance medium), 17, 37 Peresoetri (trance medium), 17, 37 Permas (tide of priest used in trance talk), 147, 175n Personality, change of, in trance experience, 5 Pesalin (the Dressing), 44 Pesiloeman (Form in magical transformation), 148, 176 Pestilence, sanghyang dances to ward off, 180, 199-200 Petapakan (term for trance medium), 145 Peteng (dark), 225 Petirtaan (ceremony, from tirta, holy water), 220

280

Index and

Petjanangan (silver dish far betel offerings), 83 Phallic symbol, kris as a, 121 Ptosen (pavilion), 81 Pig: figure of, in temples of Cianjar District, 66; sanghyang pig, 202; see also Barong Bangkal Pijit (secret), 201 Pillars of the gods (saJegs), 17 Pingit (dangerous), 210, 216, 217 Piodalan (set of offerings for the odalan), 19, 99, 116, 172 Pis penjiksik (divining money), 244 Pitja (kris dancer), 158, 168 Plains Indians, shamanism and, 8 Pleasure, in trance experience, 223 Plessen, Baron and Baroness von, 15In Poedjawali offering, 45 Poegig (villager), 239 Poelaki (goddess): in Sindoe, 53; descent into body of priest, 56; Djangir children in retinue of, 58-59; attendants of, 63n Poelaki (village), 268 Poenggawa (district chief), 226 Poenta (character in plays), 160, 161 Poepoet (ceremonially "complete"), 21 Poera Agoeng (Great Mountain temple, head temple, Intaran), 17, 29, 48; odalan at, 257-67 Poera Babian or Poera Dalem Babian (temple, Pagoetan), 102; ordered performance at, 125-26; temple festival, 134-35; Anak Agoeng Njoman priest of, 136; odalan, 169-79 Poera Batoer (temple), 17 Poera Dalem (Death Temple), 17, 22 Dendjalan, 101-102; Weweg trance performance at, 110-11; Pagoetan belonging to, 125 Intaran District, 33, 35, 37 Panti, 17; odalan, 182-85 Sindoe, 269 Tegaltamoe, 68, 71, 72; trance festivals, 80-95 Poera Dalem Giri Kesoema (temple), 29 Poera Dösa (village temple), 17; Siloeh Kompiang priestess of, Intaran 28; Sindoe, 269 Poera Iboe, (Mother temple), 17, 22 Poera Iboe Samping, Μέιηέη Gentir priestess of, 26 Poera Kajangan (Death temple), 17, 22, 22n Poera Madjapait (temple), 17 Poera Patal (temple), 55; festival at, 56, 57, 57n, 58, 268 Poera Poeseh (temple of Origin), 2, 17, 39-40 Poera Segara (temple of the Sea), 17 Poeri (palace), 68 Poetoe P a n d i (player), fig. 36 Poetoe Sadra (actor), 101 Possession: van Wulfften Palthe's study on forms of, 5-6; in Haitian religion, 7—8 Potato, see Sanghyang silaperaoe Potlid, see Sanghyang toetoep Praboe Siwasipoema of Kertanegara (character of King in Pagoetan play), 159 Prayer, see Mantra Priestess: in divination for baby's soul, 244—49 Priests: as occasional trancers, 3; function as intermediary between gods and temple members, 10-11;

Glossary officiating at temple festivals, 19; role in trance ritual, 90-91n, 252; see also Djoeroe Sapoeh; High Priests; Pemangkoe; Permas; Sepermas; Spermas Prophecy, Balinese attitude toward, 227 Psychoses, 9 Puppet complex, 11-13 Puppet plays, wajang lemah, 117 Puppets: at odalan at household temple, Intaran, 41—47passim·, sanghyang deling dance and, 180; sanghyang performances, 182-94yossim; in folk trance sanghyangs, 215; sanghyang seripoetoet, 2 1 7 19; see also Adegan; Gegaloehs; Deling Puppy (feoeloefc), see Sanghyang hoeloek Rai Sloka (trancer), fig. 64 Raksi (child who was "touched" but did not go in trance), 184 Rame (turbulent, noisy, gay), 76, 116 Rana (orchestra leader), 52 Rangda (witch deity): importance of, 2; impersonators of, 3; in Sindoe village ceremonial, 56, 57-58; in Gianjar District, 66; as sitting-place, 72; at Tegaltamoe rituals and trance festivals, 73, 75, 80-95passim, 252; role in Barong play at Dendjalan, 97; at Pagoetan performances, 126, 161—68passim, figs. 77-78 Diwa Ketoet playing role of Chief Rangda, 138 Rangda masks: power in Gianjar District, 66; testing magic power of, 75-76, 98; odalan at Poera Babian, 170-79passim Rantasan (wardrobe), 81 Rantasan offering, 258 Rantek (trancer), 74, 85 Rantoen (villager), 239, 243 Rapoeg (trancer), 74, 89 Raroeng (character in plays, the Witch's chief pupil), 70, 101, 159, 160 Rasa (feeling), 221 Rata (trancer), 119, 120, figs. 49, 52, 53 Ratoe (title of Prince or Princess, Lord, Your Highness; also applied to the gods), 28, 185 Ratoe Agoeng, 72 Ratoe Agoeng Madέ Kajangan, 24, 25 Ratoe Ajoe (deity, name of god of Barong), 32, 33, 49 Ratoe Anom (god), 126; Marsa entered by, 137, 145, 147-48; relationship with Barong and man, 148-49 odalan of Poera Babian, 170 Ratoe Babian, Ompog's role of, 152 Ratoe Dalem, 72 Ratoe Disa (god of the village temple), 51, 234 Ratoe Gedi (lit. Great Lord, a god), 107, 178; in masked figure of, at odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259 Ratoe Gedi Babian (god), 126 Ratoe Gedi Dalem (god), 72 Ratoe Ged6 Noesa ("Great Lord of the Island"), 75 Ratoe Gedi Poeseh Babian (god), 126 Ratoe Gedi Poetera (name of god of Barong K^tfet), 72 Ratoe M a d i Kajangan (name of god which enters Djero Plasa), 266 Ratoe Manik Tjandi (god), 29

Index and Glossary Ratoe Medoewe Karang (deity, lit. Lord who owns the courtyard), 203 Ratoe P a i ^ Cdeity, "Lord S m i t h " ) , 204, 219 Ratoe S a k i n a n (god of temple on the island of S a k e n a n ) , 126 Rawa (temple priest and trancer), 126-35, figs. 66-68; odalan at Poera Dalem, Tegaltamoe, 81, 82, 86; trance behavior, 109, 150, 253; self-wounding scene, 131-32, 141—42, 151, 168; Anak Agoeng Njoman behavior toward, 136-37; Neka's behavior toward, 141-42, 167, 169, fig. 83; Marsa's antagonism, 147, 149; Roegroeg and, 151; at ordered performance At Pagoetan, l62-69passint; denunciation at odalan at Poera Babian, 175, 176-78; relations with white people, 178 Rawi (villager), 240 Redan (child trancer), 62, 63 Redite ( S u n d a y , day of the seven-day week), 232 R0djang (temple dance), 71, 122, 163 Redjang music, 83, 85, 122 Regeg (trancer), 153, 162 Rekin (trancer), 89 "Rekis" (petition), 134 Rekoen (trancer who becomes a tiger), 55-59 passim; role in baby Djangir rituals, 60, 61, 63, 6 3 » Religion: beliefs regardings gods, 1—2; place of trance in experience of, 10-11; theme that gods are like children, 181 Religious books, in Intaran District, 15 Religious ceremonial, see Ritual Rena (trancer), 103-108, figs. 4 0 - 4 2 , 56; account of renovation of Barong, 99; trance performances of, 102-103, 141; way of doing ngoerek, 120-21; analysis of trance behavior, 252, 253 Renis (trancer and actor): Gianjar District performances, 113, 142, 143; entered by Kalan T a k a , 137; play, 160 at Pagoetan performrole in Tjalonarang ance, 165—68passim, figs. 84—85; at odalan at Poera Babian, 170, 171 Renjah (kris dancer), 158, 163 Renoe (child trance dancer), 182, 182-95pasjim, 254 Renteng (trancer and actor, Gianjar District), 101, 137, 150 Renting (trancer, Intaran District), 56, 58, 61, 63 Reorientation movements, after trance experience, 5, 224 Rereg (trancer), 111, 119, fig. 89 Retig (trancer), 73, 78, 79 Reverence, see Mebakti Ribek (girl dancer), 63 Rice: in ritual at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258, 261; in divination ritual, 2 4 6 - 4 7 Rice goddess, 12 Rice-pounding mortar, 215 Rindi (boy trancer), 63 Ringgit (silver coin at the time worth two and a half Dutch guilders, or one dollar), 34, 72 Ring loewoer (to the upper world, to the gods), 1, 97 Ringson (dancer), 184 Ritual: puppet complex and, 11; Intaran District, 14, 16; in sadeg trance and initiation ceremony, 18, 1 9 20, 21, 47-52; in Sindoe temples, 53; merging of

281

children's Djanger into, 59, 60; in sanghyang deling dance, 181 Roebag (villager), illness treated using trance, 2 2 8 - 3 1 Roedin (girl dancer), 6 3 Roedra or Rudra (terrifying form of the god S i v a ) , 22n Roegroeg (kris dancer), 150-52; trance behavior, 153; at ordered performance at Pagoetan, 161-69pass»m Roekti (bigingan w o m a n ) , 259, 263, 266, 267, fig. 7 Roendah (actor and trancer), 102, 112, 113, figs. 32, 33, 60, 61 Roenoeh (trance m e d i u m ) , figs. 18, 19; initiation, 31, 4 7 - 5 2 ; trance behavior, 252; at ritual of odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 2 5 9 - 6 6 p a s s i m Roepeg (second wife of Geredet), 34 Roeroeng, see Ketoet Roeroeng Roni (dancer, trancer), 6 1 - 6 2 , 141 Roti (child trancer), 63

Sadeg, 15-39, figs. 1 - 2 0 ; functions, 18; K M account of, Intaran District, 1 8 - 3 9 ; description of stance, 39-40; at odalan at household temple, Intaran, 4 0 47; initiation of Roenoeh as new, 4 7 - 5 2 ; purity and role of, 252; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259-6 7 passim·, ceremonial seating during stance, fig 5 Sadia (dancer), 187 Sading (village), 73 Sadja (genuine, referring to trance seizures), 31 Sadnja (actor), 101 Sadra (kris dancer), 153, 154, 162 Sajan (village where J B resided), 239; theft of gods from temple and fingernail divining, 231; village est, fig. 108

r

. attacks of, in Kenya culture, 7 Salting pekajoenan vidi ( a t the desire of the g o d s ) , 9 8 Sakti (holy, magically powerful), 3, 23, 30, 70 S alah (wrong, punishable), 135, 176 Salahang (punished, corrected), 176 Saling soembah (family relationship involving exchange of reverences to ancestor temple), 70 Samba (kris dancer), 153, 163 Sampar vanten ( s o n g ) , 187 Sampat ( b r o o m ) , see Sanghyang sampat Sampih (boy dancer), 76 Sana ( a sick m a n ) , 46 Sanggah (household shrine), 11, 187 Sanggah oerip (puppet, lit. shrine of l i f e ) , 12, 215 Sanghyang (spell e d sangiang by M e a d and Bateson), 180; trance performances of children, behavior during, 154; folk trance in Selat, 2 0 1 - 1 9 , 2 5 4 - 5 5 ; notes on various sanghyangs, 2 1 3 - 1 9 ; villagers' comments, 2 1 9 - 2 5 , see also under names of specific sanghyangs Sanghyang bodjog ( m o n k e y ) 202, 2 0 4 - 2 0 5 , 2 2 2 Sanghyang boengboeng (doll g o d s ) , 53, 56-6ipassim, 185, 269 Sanghyang dedari (heavenly n y m p h ) , 202, 214, 216, 219, fig. 101 Sanghyang doling (little girls' trance dance), 12, 1 8 0 82, figs. 94—98; description of performances in Kintamani District, 182-95; songs accompanying, 195-200; analysis of behavior in, 254

282

Index and Glossary

Sanghyang Sanghyang 214 Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang

djaran poetih ( w h i t e h o r s e ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 3 - 2 1 4 dongkang ( t o a d ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 3 kekerdk (paddle of bamboo), 2 0 2 , 2 1 4 - 2 1 5 koeloek ( p u p p y ) , 2 0 2 , 2 0 3 - 2 0 4 , 2 1 4 , 2 2 1 ,

Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang Sanghyang

lelipi ( s n a k e ) , 2 0 2 , 2 0 9 - 2 1 0 , 2 1 4 , 2 2 0 , 221 lesoeng (rice-pounding m o r t a r ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 5 lilit tinting ( c o i l i n g ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 5 - 2 1 6 memedi (evil spirit), 2 0 2 , 2 1 0 - 1 3 , 2 1 9 penjoe ( t u r t l e ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 6 pewajangan (incarnating spirit), 2 4 0 , 2 4 5 sampat ( b r o o m ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 5 , 2 2 2 selaperaoe ( k i n d of potato), 2 0 2 , 2 1 5 setnbe ( l a m p ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 6 - 2 1 7 , 2 2 2 - 2 3 seripoetoet (puppets of palm, on string), 5,

222

djaran ( h o r s e ) , fig. 1 0 2 djaran gading (yellow h o r s e ) , 2 0 2 ,

213-

202, 217-19, 222 Sanghyang tetkr (three-forked stick, tied to finger), 202,215 Sanghyang tjapah ( b i t of woven p a l m ) , 2 0 2 , 2 1 5 , 2 2 1 -

22

Sanghyang tjeUng ( p i g ) , 2 0 2 , 2 0 5 - 2 0 9 , 2 1 9 , 2 2 1 Sanghyang toetoep ( p o t l i d ) , 2 1 2 , 2 1 4 Sanghyang widi (spirit of g o d ) , 2 0 4 n Sanging Boejar (_sadeg), 2 5 9 - 6 7 p a s s i m Sang kepangloeh (person in t r a n c e ) , 2 2 0 Sang Kompiang ( t r a n c e r ) , 1 1 1 , 120, figs. 5 4 , 6 4 Sang Noemadi (incarnating spirit), 2 4 1 Sanistjara ( S a t u r d a y , day of the seven-day w e e k ) , 2 3 2 Sanoer ( s e a p o r t ) , 15, 54, 1 9 9 Sari ( m o n e y offering), 2 6 1 Sarong ( d r e s s ) , 1 8 3 Sastera (letters), 2 4 0 Satrya caste: Intaran District, 15, 3 0 , 2 5 7 ; Gianjar District, 6 7 ; in Dendjalan village, 9 6 Saturday, see Sanistjara Schizophrenia, trance manifestations and, 5, 6 S 6 a n c e : ritual for, in sadeg trance, 19; description of, Intaran, 3 9 - 4 7 ; at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 260-67 Sebatoe ( v i l l a g e ) , wood carvings, 2 0 2 n - 2 0 3 n Sebel ( u n c l e a n ) , 7 4 , 2 3 2 Sedeng ( t r a n c e r ) , 112-14pass»m, 1 1 9 , 1 2 0 , figs. 4 9 , 51, 5 4 - 5 6 Segeh ( g r o u n d offering), 8 2 Segeh agoeng ( g r e a t ground offering): Tegaltamoe trance festivals, 7 8 , 7 9 , 8 2 , 9 3 , 9 4 ; Dendjalan performances, 1 1 6 - 1 7 ; R a w a and, 1 2 8 ; Marsa's trance and, 1 4 8 ; Pagoetan performance, 1 6 8 S e g e h a n ( o f f e r i n g ) , 9 2 , 113, 1 6 7 Segehan poetih koening ( w h i t e and yellow offerings), 176 Sekaha or seht ( c l u b ) , 9 7 , 1 2 5 , 1 3 0 Sekaha Kangin ( E a s t C l u b ) , 1 8 2 Sekaha Kaoeh ( W e s t C l u b ) , 1 8 2 Selaperaoe ( p o t a t o ) , see Sanghyang selaperaoe Selat District, 2 0 1 - 2 5 ; players in folk trance sanghyangs, figs. 1 0 3 - 1 0 6 Self-stabbing, see Ngoerek Selir boelan, (title for priest), 7 4

Sembi ( l a m p ) , see Sanghyang semhe Semoetan ( p i n s and needles), 31, 2 0 4 , 2 1 0 Senggoehoe (low-caste priestly c a s t e ) , 9 6 Sengk£et, see D£wa Ketoet Kel&iang Sentana ( a husband who becomes a member of his wife's family), 102, 1 2 6 , 131, 1 3 5 Sentanan betara di Poera Dalem ( h e i r to the god of the T e m p l e of D e a t h ) , 7 2 Sepermas (title for priest), 9 2 Sepermas Boelan ( w o m e n trancers), 1 4 2 Seri Ada ( d i v i n e r ) , figs. 1 0 7 - 1 0 8 ; treatment of illness through trance, 2 2 9 - 3 1 ; fingernail divining for theft, 2 3 2 - 3 8 ; analysis of procedure, 2 4 9 , 2 5 5 Serining ( b a b y ) , 2 4 1 Sesantoen offerings, 2 0 3 , 2 0 4 Sesaoedan (promises made to the gods), 2 4 1 Sexual activity: change of sex, 3 2 ; mode of doing ngoerek in connection with, 1 2 1 ; in Haitian trance manifestations, 2 2 4 Shadow play, 9 9 Shamanism, Devereux's analysis of, 8, 9 Shoulder dance, sanghyang and, 180, 1 8 1 , 1 8 4 , 1 8 8 , 193, fig. 9 8 Si ( t i t l e ) , 2 8 Siloeh Kompiang, 2 8 - 2 9 . fig. 20; at household temple odalan, Intaran, 43-47jjassiui; at initiation of new sadeg, 4 9 , 5 1 , 52; at odalan at Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 259—67passim Sindoe ( v i l l a g e ) : baby djauger trance, 5 2 - 6 5 . figs. 22— 2 6 ; trance performances, 2 5 2 : mythological history, 268-69 Sing kanggo ( " i t does not c o u n t , " can't be u s e d \ 2 8 Sisia ( p u p i l ) , 1 5 9 Siva, 2, 2 2 n " S m o k i n g " from incense brazier: in sadeg ritual. 2 0 ; in "coming out" procedure, 1 0 5 - 1 0 6 , figs. 59, 6 0 , 1 0 0 ; for sanghyang memedi, 2 1 1 ; villagers' comments on, 2 2 1 ; in ritual at odalan of Poera Agoeng, Intaran, 258-67pass»nt Snake, see Sanghyang lelipi Sodan (food offering), 2 6 5 Soeda (Balinese m a n ) , 50, 51 Soekadi ( a c t o r ) , 2 1 5 , 2 1 9 - 2 2 p a s s i m , fig. 1 0 6 Soekani (player), 207-208, fig. 105; sanghyang seripoetoet, 217—18; memedi, 2 1 0 - 1 3 ; in sanghyang comments on sanghyang, 219-22passim; comments on trance activities, 2 2 4 Soekoen (trancer, kris d a n c e r ) , 155, 1 5 8 . 1 5 9 - 6 0 , 1 6 3 , 167 Soekrana ( t r a n c e r ) , 2 0 5 - 2 0 8 , 2 2 0 Soerawidjaja (character in p l a y ) , 1 5 9 Soerja ( S u n god, shrine to S u n g o d ) , 9 7 , 1 0 0 Soetji (offerings), 2 4 1 Sogsag ( a c t o r ) , 9 6 , 1 0 1 , fig. 4 2 Soma Ribek ( d a y of the Balinese calendar), 2 6 Somnambulistic trance activity, 21, 2 1 2 - 1 3 , 2 2 3 Songs, see Folk songs Sorcery, 2 2 7 Spear dance, 1 2 9 - 3 0 , fig. 8 9 Spermas ( t i d e for priest), 7 4 Spies, W a l t e r : ordered performance at Pagoetan, 1 2 4 ; R a w a and, 1 2 9 ; account of sanghyang folk trances

Index and Glossary in Selat District, 202, 2 0 3 - 2 0 5 , 2 0 9 - 1 0 ; description of sanghyang seripoetoet, 2 1 8 - 1 9 Spirits of the dead, divining in relation to, 227 Sri or Sen ( r i c e goddess), 12 Stabbing dance, 6 3 « Striped Tiger, 53, 268 Suggestibility, trance performances and, 214, 225 Sunday, see Redite Surya or Soerja ( S u n ) , 2 "Sweeper," see Djoeroe Sapoeh Tabanan (villager), 2 0 4 « , 219-22passim Tabih (dancer, actor), 150, 161 Taen metjontoan (to have gone through a test), 140 Tajoengan (dance step), 187 Taksoe (control spirits), 2, 228, 246 Tal (palm on which writing is done), 15, 41 Taman (village), 57«, 154 Tamboer (trancer), 137 Tanggoen (sadeg), 48, 50, 260 Tapak (villager), 237 Tapakan (godly representations), 1, 107, 13", 183 Teak-leaf offerings, see Daoenan Tegal (village), 7 2 Tegaltamoe (village), 67; trance performances at, 6 8 95; rivalry between Dendjalan and, 252-53; dramatic artists, figs. 2 7 - 3 1 Telabah (ward), 102 Temple dancing, see Mekintjang-kintjoeiig; Mendet; Redjang Temple festival, see Odtdan Temple object, see Artja Temple priest, see Djeroe Sapoeh; Pemangkoe; Permas; Priest; Sepermas; Spermas Temples: gods' visits to, 11; Intaran District, 15, 16, 17; of Sindoe, 53, 268; Gianjar District, 66; see also under specific temples, such as Poera Agoen^, Poera Dalem, etc. Teng&t (supematurally powerful), 73, 75, 125 Teroeng, Forest of, 101 Tetir (three-forked stick), see Sanghyang teter Theft, fingernail divining for, 2 3 1 - 3 8 Three-forked stick, see Sanghyang teter Tigasan (set of clothes), 45, 247 Tiger: in Sindoe village ceremonials, 53, 268; figure of, in temples of Gianjar District, 66; in Sindoe mythology, 268 Tiger banner, 59 Tiger Barong, see Matjan Tijing (bamboo), 215 Tis (cool), 59 Tjalonarang play: Tegaltamoe performances, 70, 80; Dendjalan performances, 97, 98, 101; plot, 106-107; Anak Agoeng in Balian roje, 136; Diwa Ketoet's role, 138; storv of, at Pagoetan ordered performance, 159-65 Tjanang (betel offerings): Djero Plasa's performance, 23; Tegaltamoe performance, 78, 258; Dendjalan perfonnances, 113; odalan at Poera Babian, 170, 171, 175; in divination for baby's soul, 244 Tjanang adjoeman (offerings), 199 Tjanang gantal (tray of betel), 45, 261

Tjanang rehong (food and betel offerings), 267 Tjanang sari (offering), 92 Tjapah (bit of woven palm), see Sanghyang tjapah Tjara di loewoer (as in the Upper W o r l d ) , 72 Tjaratan (drinking vessel with a spirit), 4 2 Tjaroe (ground offering), 57, 61, 116, 148, 176 Tjedoegan (kris dancer), 153, 154, 162 Tjeh-tjeh ("go away," used for days), 204 Tjeling (pig), see Sanghyang tjeleng Tjemer (unclean), 74 Tjempaka or Champaka (tree), 203, 204 Tjeriok (cry of exhortation), 20, 63, 267 Tjibloek (aancer), 1 8 2 - 8 6 passim Tjiri (token), 266 Tjitah, tjitah (call for pigs), 206 Tjokor Ratoe ("the foot of the Lord"), 199 Tjokorda Gedi Meregan (prince, founder of shrine), 1 2 5 - 2 6 , 136 Tjokorda Rai (prince), 237 Tjondong (maidservant part in play), 160 Toad, see Sanghyang dongkang Toean or Tuan (gentleman), 55 Toeboeh (ward), 102, 136 Toeloeng (bit of palm placed inside palm-leaf puppet), 215 Toemtoem (Balinese man), 62 Toetoep (potlid), see Sanghyan toetoep Tombong (trancer), 38, 42 Tompong (έngέngan woman), 26, 259, 267, fig. 8 Tonja (spirit), 99n Tontonan (performance), 177 Toping (mask play), 69, 80, 81 Totstellreflex, 6 Touch, see Njawat Trance doctor, see Balian ketakson Trance mediums, 14, 17-18 Troena (youth), 105 Turtle, see Sanghyang penjoe Unclean, see Sebel Van Wulfften Palthe, P. M.: study on trance subjects. 5 - 6 , 62; observations of sanghyang perfonnances, 208, 2 1 2 - 1 3 , 217, 218; of folk trance sanghyangs, 215 Verslapping, 208 Village organization, Intaran District, 14, 17 Village temple, see Poera Dcsa Vishnu, 2 Voodoo, 7 Wadi (dancer), 182, 188, 190, 191 Wajan (tide of eldest child), 56, 6 0 - 6 4 p a s s i m Wajang Koelit (shadow play), 99 Wajang lemah (daylight puppet plav), 117 Waki (sadeg), 37 Wakkilia (name of Witch's pupil in play, Pagoetan), 159 Waksindia, see Wakkilia Waksisia (name of Witch's pupil in play, Pagoetan), 159 Wangi (ritual preceding trance, lit. fragrant), 84

284

Index and Glossary

Waringm (tree), 53, 233 Wasni (child trancer), 63 Water wells, divining for, 226 Wayang kulit (shadow show), 11,12 Wayang wong (Javanese "human" puppet show), 12 Wednesday, see Wrespati Weigl Test, 10η Wewangi (sandalwood water), 113, 122, 123 Weweg (trancer), 101, 108-115, fig. 42; trance performance compared to Njoman Gangsar's, 118; mode of doing ngoerek, 121; analysis of trance behavior, 253 West Club, see Sekaha Kaoeh Wesya caste, 15, 28, 67, 68; Siloeh Kompiang belonging to, 28 White horse, see Sanghyang djaran poetih White magic, 16

Widi (god), 73» Widiadara (spirit), 138 Widiadari (heavenly nymphs), 2, 12, 257-58 Widiadari (spirit), 138 Windigo (psychosis), 9 Witch, see Rangda Witchcraft, 9, 16, 227, 252 Witch story, see Tjalonarang play Women: role of, in Kenya culture, 7; trances at Dendjalan performances, 102-103; ngoerek behavior, 123; kris dancers of Pagoetan, 155-59, figs. 72-74, 86-88, 92; trance behavior, 157, 254 Wood carving, at Sebatoe, 202n Wrespati (Wednesday, day of the seven-day week), 232 Yellow horse, see Sanghyang djaran gading Yellow Tiger, 53, 268