Would You Like a Fork With That?

My parents raised me well. They taught me to look people in the eye when shaking hands, to respond politely when addressed, and how to blame a nasty smell on the dog. Imagine their horror if they saw me now – eating food from a little cart on the street, served on a banana leaf or cheap plastic plate. Using my hands. Well, ok. Just my right hand. The left is reserved for cleaning. Call me old fashioned, though; I still use toilet paper.

Indonesians are infamous for a few things. Corruption and rampant environmental abuse are ridiculous hurdles to surmount as the country struggles through its second half-century of independence. The Balinese love to snack. Meals are small, spaced throughout the day, and are generally handled best with the hands. Food is readily available on every corner, along every street, and indeed rolling along each road. Each day, I veer around numerous men pushing food carts. They announce their wares of chicken ball soup, fried noodles, satay, or doughnuts with bells, chimes, and horns. Like the ice cream man, only it’s more likely to burn your mouth.