Sembung the homeplace

Desa is the word for village but the Balinese village is the place for communication of all problems in personal matters. Nuclear families live in the family compounds of their parents, normally that of the husband. In old-fashioned villages like here in Sembungi, privacy is almost unheard of. If someone is ill or having a violent argument, it’s the duty of friends, relations, and all the immediate neighbors to crowd into the house and be on hand in case somebody freaks out. One morning not long ago, I was awakened at dawn by the sound of a crowd of people in my yard. I found about forty people there standing outside the kitchen shed, while inside there were about seven or eight more people, as many as could physically fit in there. People apologized to me for the commotion and explained that Rani (a young relative of Madri’s whom I know slightly) had run away from her husband the night before and taken refuge in my kitchen. She wouldn’t speak and seemed not to be able to hear.