Barong

Barong

By Sunaryono Basuki Ks

New Year's Day was a blessed day for Wayan Suardika, but not
because he had received a bonus from his office, stashed in an
envelope which he handed to his wife Nyoman as soon as he got
home. His wife's face lit up. She fingered the red banknotes, but
hurriedly put them back in the envelope. Perhaps Nyoman felt what
he had done as a blessing for the family. It was not money that
made them feel grateful to Hyang Widhi.

"Where's Gede?" asked Wayan.

"Playing with his friends. Perhaps at Pak Agung's house. You
know, Gung Nik has a new toy to play with. A new video game."

"Has he been there long?"

"Long enough. He must be having a good time there."

Wayan took off his cap and put it on the table. His wife
understood, and without being asked, went into the kitchen. She
returned through the curtained door with a half-full glass of
coffee on a wooden tray.

Holding his hot black coffee, Wayan mused on the black days he
had been through. He sipped his black coffee, reliving the
suffering of those bleak days.

It had been more than two years ago that Gede Sutarsa, their
only son, had been taken ill. His wife took him to the community
health center. Full of hope, she let Gede take the medicine the
doctor gave her.

"It's only a cold," the doctor told her.

"If it's only a cold, cayapult oil will cure him," Wayan said
optimistically. Normally, his son would have recovered in a
couple of days. But this time Gede remained sick. This five-year-
old boy started complaining of a headache and of pain in the
chest. Returning to the health center after all the medicine had
gone, the doctor examined him more carefully.

"You should take the kid to the hospital. I'll write you a
reference. They have a laboratory and X-ray equipment there. He
can have a sputum test and have an X-ray taken. He may be
suffering from tuberculosis. Any of your relatives suffer from
TB? A neighbor? Or a maid?"

As far as Wayan knew, no one in the family had TB. Did they?
One of his neighbors maybe? Who knew. And they did not have a
maid.

Then they took Gede to the hospital. He had an X-ray and a
sputum test. Wayan had to empty his wallet for those tests.

"Nothing is free in this country," he thought, but he still
felt lucky because he did not have to pay too much for the
service -- although he did have to queue for a long time.

The tests were negative. Gede was quite healthy. No TB. Did he
perhaps have a heart problem? After all, he felt pain in the
chest, and a heart disease also gave you pain there, a pain like
being pinned down.

A friend gave him some advice.

"You'd better take Gede to a specialist."

"Can't I take him to the one in the hospital?"

"If you want better care, you must see the doctor at his
private surgery. You still have to queue, though. But don't
worry. See an internist. He will examine all the internal parts
of Gede's body."

"And he will also clean out the inner folds of my wallet,"
Wayan joked.

But Wayan was not joking about Gede being examined by a
specialist. He took him to Dr. Ngurah's private surgery. He was a
specialist. "He is an expert in examining what it is inside the
body," Wayan thought.

In the beginning of every new treatment, Wayan was always
optimistic. There was always hope for Gede's recovery from his
sickness, hope for their only son who would pray for their
parents when they died. At the end of every examination, Wayan
hoped that the next round of medication would work. He was
convinced there was a cure for everything. The stream of medical
examination, medication, prescription, and private surgery
gradually exhausted his money and he had to mortgage his only
piece of land, inherited from his parents. The purser in his
office kept his bills.

"Gede suffers from a strange disease," an uncle told him.
"Look for a balian."

"But this is the nineties. Could he really be suffering from
that kind of disease?"

"Don't dismiss it out of hand," the man said.

"Perhaps Gede has something to say but is keeping it to
himself, maybe that's why he has become ill."

"That's an educated man's theory," his uncle replied. "Just
think about what the doctors said. Those smart people said Gede
was completely healthy. So there can't there be anything wrong
with him? Perhaps there is something wrong with us. Our ancestors
are angry with us, or perhaps they want something from us. You'd
better ask a balian about that."

Personally, Wayan did not believe in quacks, but for the sake
of Gede's recovery, he let his uncle find one. No harm in trying.

"So it seems I'm right," his uncle pronounced, "The balian
said that our ancestors are asking for something. They will
prepare for the banten, you only have to be ready with the
money."

Only the money. Wayan had to think hard before adding to his
debts. Money was not a simple matter for Wayan. It was easy to
talk about but hard in practice.

"Mr. Wayan, you have exceeded your debt limit. Can't you try
to borrow money somewhere else?" the finance officer in his
office told him.

"I need money for my kid's medication, Sir."

But the man only looked at him.

"Isn't there anything we can still sell?" Wayan asked his
wife.

"The radio, perhaps?" his wife suggested.

"An old radio won't sell for much. Perhaps only two thousand
rupiah," Wayan said.

His wife looked sad and touched the necklace hanging around
her neck.

"How about this, Bli?"

Wayan could not say a word. The necklace with a heart
medallion swung between Gede's recovery and the loss of past
memories, since it was inherited from his wife's parents. His
wife seemed to read Wayan's mind.

"We can pawn it and buy it back when we have the money."

It turned out that the money still could not pay for Gede's
recovery. Even after they had made religious offerings, Gede
stayed ill. He coughed during the night, felt pain in his chest
and suffered from headaches during the day. And they could not
get the necklace back.

In the dim light of evening, Wayan would observe his son's
face. Even when he was asleep, the boy seemed to be in agony.
Perhaps it was only Wayan's own suffering he saw. Perhaps it was
him who felt terrible and he was projecting his own feelings onto
his boy. Wayan wanted to weep, but there were no more tears left.
He had cried in the early stages of Gede's illness. Gede lost his
friends; the other boys had started to avoid him. He was seven
years old, but had not been to school yet.

And Wayan was dejected. Nothing was left to sell at home, and
Gede was looking worse and worse. Wayan could not work in peace.
He was frequently reprimanded by his editor.

"Your story is no good. You should concentrate on your job
more."

But he had concentrated, not only on his job but on how he
could find medication for Gede's recovery. He had lost faith in
the balian. He could not remember how many balian he had visited,
and they all gave him different explanations. One said that Gede
was a victim of black magic. It was really aimed at Wayan, but
missed and had attacked Gede instead. He asked the balian to
remove "the package" from Gede's body. A ritual was performed and
he paid for it, but still Gede coughed and suffered.

One told him that their ancestors wanted .....

Another said that his house should be purified because the
land used to be a rice field ...

A third said ....

Yet another said ....

Wayan stopped believing in them. Wayan stopped believing in
the magical powers of the balian ....

Until the end of the year.

Wayan's grandfather, who lived in the mountains, came to visit
him. He rarely saw the old man. Perhaps once or twice he had met
him when he was only seven or eight years old. His father had
taken him to the mountains. It had been a long journey. First
they had traveled by bus, and then they had walked for half a day
to grandfather's hut. Despite the cold, Wayan had felt at peace
there.

"Do you like it here with Wayah?"

"Yes," he had said. He loved grandpa's hut. The old man had
sweet roasted cassava. He had a fireplace to warm himself, and he
could put the unpeeled cassava in the fire.

Grandpa had stroked Wayan's head.

"But you're better off going to live in town. You should go to
school and become educated. Don't be like grandpa."

"I love it here."

"Of course you can visit me any time and stay here," he had
said.

Wayan did not know who had asked grandpa to come this time. It
had been a long time since he had last seen him. The old man
lived alone, far away from the rest of the family. He rarely
attended family ceremonies at the family's sanggah. People often
had trouble remembering whether grandpa was still alive or
whether he had already died.

"So you visit us, Grandpa."

"Yes, I miss my grandson. And Gede is sick."

"How did you know that Gede is sick?"

The old man only smiled and said "Yan, Grandpa can feel it."
Then he called Gede.

"Come here, De." He stretched out his hands and hoist the boy
into his lap. From a cotton bag he tool a package wrapped in
banana leaves. When he opened it, Wayan could see that it
contained flowers.

"Burn this incense, Yan," he told Wayan.

Without saying a word Wayan burned the incense grandpa gave
him. Then grandpa carried Gede to the wooden bed and laid him
there. He took off the boy's shirt and put the flowers next to
the boy. He himself climbed up the bed and sat cross-legged
beside the boy. He took the burning incense from Wayan's hand and
put it in between the fingers of both his hands. He closed his
eyes, then he took some flowers and put them on Gede's chest. For
a moment Gede groaned as if he felt deep pain, but it was not for
long. Then, Wayan did not know how, he watched the blood ooze out
of grandpa's hand. In his hand he clutched some old Balinese pis
bolong.

"Take these in your left hand, wrap them in paper or leaves,
and then throw them into the sea," grandpa told Wayan.

"What are they, Grandpa?"

"Just throw them away. The fight between Barong and Rangda is
eternal. In the end, Barong always wins, but Rangda cannot really
be defeated. He will constantly disturb us. So never forget to
membakti," Grand said.

Returning home from throwing the coins into the ocean, Wayan
found his wife alone.

"Where is Gede?"

"He is playing with the other kids."

"He's full of beans, and he told me the pain in his chest is
gone."

"But where is Grandpa?"

"He said he wanted to take a walk."

From that day on, Gede was healthy. Grandpa never turned up
again.

As Wayan sipped his black coffee, he realized the banknotes in
the envelope were quite meaningless compared to Gede's recovery.
It was their most precious New Year's Gift. A new year with a new
development: Gede was better.

Grandpa never told him who had done this to him, but he had
been quite clear about some things. Rangda was never completely
defeated. Never think that people will do you no harm even when
you are kind. He recalled grandpa's advice: Doing good is much
better than doing evil. Believe in Sang Hyang Widhi. When the law
does not work in the world, it will work there in the hereafter.

Sunaryono Basuki Ks was born in Malang, East Java in 1941. He
teaches English literature and art at the Department of Languages
of Art, the School of Teachers Training and Education, Singaraja,
Bali. He has published seven novels and some anthologies of
poetry. He also writes for newspapers.

Note:
Red Banknotes = Ten thousand rupiah notes
Hyang Widhi = God of the Balinese Hindus
Balian = Traditional Balinese doctor
banten = Offering
Bli = A respectful form of address for a man
Wayah = Grandpa
Sanggah = Shrine
Pis Bolong = A old Balinese coin with a hole in the middle
Barong and Rangda = Symbol of Good and Evil
Membakti = Pray to God