Jero Mangku* Made Rata came to our attention when we first met our next door neighbor, Herman Suhendro, who had broken his pelvis in an accident. The accident had happened just 8 days before we met Herman but, incredibly, other than a slight limp he was walking around fine. X-rays showed he had needed surgery, but he refused. "Just give me painkillers." he said. He then called Jero Mangku Made Rata for a treatment. A 15-minute massage did the job. Two weeks after the accident Herman walked like nothing ever happened.
If I had not had a similar experience in Hawaii, albeit on a much smaller scale, I would not have believed it. Some years back I broke my "ring" toe on my left foot. It turned black and blue, almost doubled in size, and was so painful that I had a hard time standing and walking. You don't know how many nerve endings you have in your toes until you hurt them. Lito, our Filipino yard man, saw me struggle and suggested I see his father Johnny in Wahiawa who was good with broken bones. Mornings Johnny works in the pineapple fields, afternoons he sees people in his house for healings. I arrive at 4:00 PM and wait in line. Johnny apparently treats a host of other ailments as well.
When it is my turn, he has me sit in a chair in the living room while he sits on a low stool facing me. He pours some holy oil in his hands and begins massaging my toe. I nearly jump out of my skin. Son of a bitch, that freakin' HURTS!!!! I break out in a sweat and cuss and cuss. Johnny pays no attention to me, he has a firm hold on my foot and simply continues pulling and twisting the toe. I grip the chair, breathing hard, and pour out sweat. I don't know how long it takes - a couple minutes, not more than 5 - but I suddenly realize that the pain has stopped. I also realize that it actually stopped a while back but I was so busy being into the drama of being in pain that I did not notice. A strange and funny revelation. Relaxed now, I watch Johnny manipulate my toe, turning it this way and that, pulling at it hard and pushing it forward and back. Funny, no pain at all. Still swollen and black and blue, though. But Johnny can solve that too. He has Lito gather three betel leaves from the bush in his yard and heats the leaves with a few drops of holy oil on the stove. He then wraps the hot leaves around my toe and secures them with a strip of cotton tied around them. "Leave it on through the night." he says. First thing I do in the morning is take off the leaves and... behold!... a splendid toe! The only reminder left of its recent trauma is a lonely little blue spot in the corner by the nail. But that, too, will be gone within an hour.
So, yes, I believe Herman's story. I want to meet this Balinese bonesetter. Our friend Virgil Mayor Apostol is getting ready to publish his book on Rumsua Ancestral Healing (http://www.rumsua.org) and e-mails me a request for photos of a Balinese healer to include in the section of Southeast Asian healing methods. Other than sheer curiosity, I now have good reason to find this balian (Balinese traditional healer). But I learn that it's not so easy to get a hold of Jero Mangku Made Rata. He is in great demand, traveling all over Bali to where he is needed in emergency. Meanwhile, Virgil is on a deadline.
I ask Ida Bagus Suamba, our driver, if he knows any healers. Duh, that is like asking if there are any temples in Bali. Suamba takes me to the compound of Jero Mangku Ardita who works together with his wife Jero Dasaran Ni Ketut Leseg. Jero Ardita, the husband, is a slight figure of a man with a very kind face and a joyful smile. His wife, Jero Dasaran, is someone I call a "Guardian." Equally slight in stature, she's nevertheless a person to reckon with. (This may be a delusion, haha, but I kind of identify with her!) She is a holy woman in her own right, a formally acknowledged medium.who channels the messages from the gods.** (I act like I do that too, although Phil says I act like I am god.). She channels the spiritual causes for the disease and the gods' recommended corrections, like in "You did not pay attention to an ancestral spirit, so now you must give it the following offerings on such and such date." She also prepares the spiritual medicines, like holy oils. Jero Ardita then heals the patient with oil, massage and/or heat. He also consults the lontar (holy books). This is my own simplified version of how I understand these two healers work. I'm just now getting an inkling of the Balinese way of keeping the world in balance . The more I learn, the more I like it. Anyway, I go there to talk with Jero Ardita and watch him in action, so I can take pictures for Virgil.
Suamba offers himself for Jero to massage. Being massaged by a balian is very different from going to the spa for a massage. The balian looks for, and finds, the places where you hurt because that's where the imbalances are, that's where he needs to work. So no, it's not the most relaxing way to spend an afternoon. But Suamba sacrifices himself heroically so I can take my pictures.
I ask Jero Ardita about the oil he uses. I remember Johnny, the Filipino bonesetter, using coconut oil from young coconuts that is prepared only once a year in the Philippines during Easter. That is what makes the oil holy. Jero Ardita explains that he uses three different kinds of oil. There is an oil for massage, an oil for ingesting (Suamba says it's nauseating, he always comes prepared with chewing gum to get rid of the taste afterward), and an oil for squirting up the nose and into the eyes. Uh... yeah... the last one is to dispel evil spirits.
Jero Ardita uses 11 different kinds of coconuts to make oil with. Other ingredients are added to it, like rock mushroom, mistletoe, roots, seeds, etc. The materials and ingredients for the oils are collected and mixed on the dates that are propitious for it. Then another special date must be divined for the activation ceremony, during which the gods are petitioned to enter the oils. Without that last step, the oils are useless.
While Suamba is being massaged, three men walk in with a basket of offerings, a father and his two sons. The younger one surprises me with his perfect British English. He tells me he studied in London and he's here at his father's urging to learn whose reincarnation his newborn son is. Really? Now that's something totally new to me. Not the reincarnation part, but that it is a common practice to consult a balian about your baby's reincarnation. When I ask Suamba later why that's done, he says that maybe you learn about some unfinished business that your baby has come to finish. Maybe an ancestor promised to build a temple but died before accomplishing it. To have that ancestor reincarnate in the baby is a message to the family to get their act together and build that temple. I learn that one ancestor can reincarnate into more than one person and that two ancestors can reincarnate together into one person. This is fun stuff. Since then I've been asking every Balinese if he/she knows whose reincarnation they are and if it rings true for them. Some know, others say they've not been told, or their parents never bothered consulting a balian. I wonder which crazy ancestor(s) reincarnated in me and what unfinished business I still have to finish for them. You think I should find out?
A woman shows up with the remnants of a skin disease on her arms . She tells me that she came for treatment a week ago, suffering terribly from painfully itching and oozing wounds on both arms. Jero Ardita healed her in a few sessions. I'm soon to witness how. While he is spreading oil over her arms, his wife heats up a metal rod. Earlier I had noticed a large stone on the ground and wondered what it was for. But now I'm busy taking photos of the woman's arms being oiled and am not paying attention to the stone. I'm standing right next to it. Suddenly I hear the scream of metal against stone and feel the burn of hot sparks on my left leg. I jump. The sparks came from Jero Dasanan hitting the white hot metal rod against the stone. She now hands the rod to her husband. He prays over it and applies it to the skin of the woman's arms in long up and down strokes, inside her arms, outside... over every inch of her arms. The oil sizzles off her skin. I see it. I hear it. Her skin is smoking but does not burn. I hope the smoke will show up on my photos. It does not. Too bad. But I saw it.
Jero Dasaran goes into her medicine temple. She prays and prepares an oil for the woman to take home and apply on her arms. The oil is poured in a small plastic bag, the top of which is tied into a knot. The woman is admonished to perform cleansing ceremonies. She is happy. She shows me the oil and tells me again how bad her arms were before Jero healed her. And look at how her skin is now! She wants me to touch her skin but I'm finicky. I just smile and say, "Bagus. Bagus sekali." (Beautiful. Very beautiful.).
I ask Jero Ardita how he became a healer. Did he train with his father who was a famous healer? A portrait of the old man hangs on the wall. Jero answers that he never got trained. He never even knew he would be a healer. It just happened one day after his father died. It happened like an instant download. He took up where his father left off. I nod my head. Instant reincarnation. Why not?
One more story about Jero Ardita. One of our guests is Slava, a scientist from Moscow. He and his wife Ira are hereon vacation, celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary. Their daughter Marina paid for their trip and wanted their stay in Ubud to be a healing experience. Little did she know what kind of healing experience was in store for Slava. He was suffering from a painful condition of his right foot which made it hard for him to walk, much to Ira's chagrin, who of course wanted his company on her walks. Slava somehow agrees to see Jero Ardita, even though he thinks "healers don't heal, they just play tricks with your mind." I come along to take more pictures. When Jero Ardita starts working on Slava's foot, poor Slava can hardly stand the pain. I tell him it won't last. The pain will soon go away and his foot will be fine. Sure enough. A few minutes later Slava is astonished that he feels no more pain. "I'm a scientist," he says, "I don't feel any more pain, but I don't believe it." When we get home, he and Ira go for a walk and I don't see them for a long time.
I send the photos off to Virgil and then I hear from Jero Mangku Made Rata, the bonesetter.
To be continued...
Jero Ardita applying a white hot metal rod to the arms of a patient.
* "Jero Mangku" is the general term for a healer. It's often shortened to "Jero," followed by their name: Jero Ardita, Jero Made Rata, Jero Ni Ketut... In addressing them it's enough to call them simply "Jero."
** In the late 1980's the Indonesian government funded a study of Balinese healers, testing them and verifying claims of healing. Jero Dasaran was one of ten Bali healers certified to be a true healer. The findings were published in the book, "Usada Bali" by Dr. Ngurah Nala, MPH. (PT Upada Sastra), 1990.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment