The fourth morning in Ubud began with the aroma of freshly brewed Balinese coffee and the sounds of nature that (this time) felt genuinely soothing, with no added sound effects from Caroline’s rumbling stomach or the buzzing bee that disrupted Jim's meditation. After a breakfast of colorful smoothie bowls (which, once again, led Jim to inquire about the artistic significance of the arrangement of dragon fruit and chia seeds), Nisa announced the day's cultural agenda.
"Since our yoga session yesterday was... ahem... slightly distraction-filled," Nisa began with an amused smile, "today we’re going to try a calmer Balinese cultural activity that requires focus: learning to make Canang Sari."
Ibu Wayan, the multi-talented yoga instructor whose patience was as thin as silk thread yet as strong as steel, returned to the villa’s pendopo. This time, instead of yoga mats, the pavilion was filled with baskets containing fresh green young coconut leaves (janur), various brightly colored flowers (white frangipani, yellow jepun, pink roses, purple balsam), fragrant pandan leaf strips, and other complements like candy, small biscuits, and even a clove cigarette (which immediately prompted Andrea to ask if this was an offering for the smoking deity).
"The Canang Sari is a form of bhakti—our daily expression of gratitude to Ida Sang Hyang Widhi Wasa for the blessings of life," Ibu Wayan explained softly, demonstrating how to fold the janur into a small, box-shaped ceper (the canang container). Her hands moved so gracefully and quickly, as if dancing. "Every element and its placement has a deep philosophical meaning."
She explained the meaning of the flower colors representing the cardinal directions and certain deities: white for east (Dewa Iswara), red for south (Dewa Brahma), yellow for west (Dewa Mahadewa), and black/blue/purple for north (Dewa Wisnu). In the center, a porosan made of betel leaf, chalk, and areca nut was placed, symbolizing the Trimurti (Brahma, Wisnu, Shiva), and then added with bunga rampai (mixed flowers) or sliced fragrant pandan (for fragrance).
"Wow, that's complicated," Caroline commented, trying to mimic Ibu Wayan's janur fold, but the result looked more like a failed ketupat (rice dumpling). "This is like origami, but a much more fragrant version, and it makes me hungry looking at the candy."
Nisa and Reza, who were quite familiar with canang, tried to help the others. Sharon, with a musician's precision, successfully made a rather tidy ceper. She arranged her flowers with a beautiful color gradation. "It’s like composing a harmony, but with flowers," she said with a satisfied smile.
Jim, naturally, had a different approach. He didn't start arranging immediately but instead bombarded Ibu Wayan with questions. "Ibu Wayan, if the white flower symbolizes the purity of Iswara in the east, and red symbolizes the courage of Brahma in the south, then what if I want to symbolize... the existential confusion of an Irish musician in the middle of a tropical island? Which color is suitable?" Ibu Wayan could only smile, answering diplomatically, "Perhaps a mix of flowers would be best, Mr. Jim."
Then it was Andrea's turn. She carefully observed Ibu Wayan's example canang, then her eyes darted around at the available materials. Besides flowers, there were small pieces of sugarcane, some Marie Regals biscuits, and ginger candy. A "brilliant" idea then popped into her head.
She made her ceper (with a little help from Nisa because the janur kept tearing), and then began arranging the contents. She placed the flowers in a circle around the edge, like the crust of a pizza. In the center, instead of the porosan and mixed flowers, she placed the Marie Regals biscuit as the "dough base," then sprinkled crushed ginger candy as the "seasoning," and finally, inserted a few small pieces of sugarcane as the "pepperoni topping."