THE salak fruits at the buffet table are incredibly large and fresh. The ones back home are a far cry from these fine specimens served at Swiss-Belinn Legian, my temporary home in Bali over the next three days. Unable to resist the temptation, I end up savouring an entire bowl.
Interested to know more about this fruit, I strike up a conversation with hotel general manager, Putu Yati Artini who happened to walk by my table for her morning inspection rounds.
Thrilled at my interest in Bali's second most famous product after tourism, she quips: “Our island is the origin of the salak fruit and over the years farmers have conducted selective propagation through cross pollination techniques to produce many interesting varieties that have superior texture, flesh thickness and flavour.”
To date, this popular Indonesian resort island is home to 14 novel salak varieties — salak injin, salak nangka, salak putih, salak boni, salak penyalin, salak cengkeh, salak gondok, salak nenas, salak bingin, salak cemara, salak kelapa, salak gulapasir, salak muani and salak embadan.
Although salak gulapasir is the most popular, the enterprising cultivators went a step further to come up with two amazing variants that have hints of pineapple (salak gulapasir nenas) and jackfruit (salak gulapasir nangka) flavours.
“In Swiss-Belinn Legian, we source both these tasty salak gulapasir variants directly from the best salak growers in Sibetan village which is located in east Bali's Karangasem regency. Our transport traverses the 70 kilometre distance twice weekly to ensure that our guests enjoy only the best and freshest fruits. In fact, one will be leaving in an hour's time and you’re welcome to tag along,” says Artini. I nod enthusiastically, jumping at the chance to make the trip.
JOURNEY BEGINS
The two-hour long drive from Legian in Badung province to Sibetan village begins with the driver skilfully weaving through the busy urban landscape filled with incessant gridlocks and traffic crawls.
Red light, green light, red light, green light; the repetitive pattern seems to go on forever until we finally hit something that resembles a highway.
The route subsequently takes us past the rustic towns of Putung, Candidasa, Tirtagangga and Tulamben which are famous for scenic rice terraces and breath-taking Balinese architecture. Apart from that, the local landscape remains relatively consistent until our vehicle veers onto a deserted slip road with little traffic.
The narrow winding country road leads our gradual climb up the picturesque Pemukuran Hills located in the Sidemen sub district.
After a while, we turn off the air conditioning unit and roll down the windows to allow in the refreshingly crisp cool montane air.
The road now has noticeably fewer intersections. After passing Selat and Dukuh villages and just before reaching the village famed for its agro-tourism ventures, we stop briefly at a lookout point which is about 600 metres above sea level. The vantage point offers commanding views of the distant rolling hills.
Arriving at Sibetan village at a little past 10 in the morning, the driver drops me off at one of the largest salak farms in the area and promises to return once his chores are done.
“The people here are very friendly and will be more than happy to show you around. After that, walk a little further up this road and check out the community sales centre. Meet you there in an hour's time,” he quips before driving off.
Luck is on my side as within minutes of ambling around aimlessly, I catch sight of a farmer in the midst of pruning older fronds from a salak grove.
He looks up with a friendly smile and, within minutes, Gusti Wirajaya and I start engaging in a friendly banter.
Guiding me towards several plants heavy with fruits, Gusti proudly lays claim to the fact that the highland areas surrounding Sibetan are where the best Balinese salak are grown.
“The volcanic soil here is very fertile and together with the mineral rich water and cool climate, fruits from this area are second to none,” explains the second generation farmer who inherited the vast plantation from his father several years ago.
Salak has been grown since the early 16th century in Bali but over the centuries it remained a small scale production and was largely unknown to foreigners. Ironically, it took a major natural disaster in recent history for the salak to be planted at a commercial scale and extend its reach beyond the shores of Indonesia.
Lying close to Mount Agung, on the road from Rendang to Amlapura, Sibetan village was hit hard when the largest active volcano in Bali erupted violently in 1963. The series of blasts that year covered the village with such a thick layer of ash and rocks that they destroyed all the salak plants and rendered farming almost impossible.
Despite living under such precarious conditions, the people of Sibetan refused to give up and leave. They persevered in the face of adversity and stood up to the challenge to rebuild their lives.
As the high elevation of their land ruled out the possibility of planting other types of cash crops, they set their hearts and minds to research and produce better salak variants that weren’t adverse to volcanic ash.
RISING FROM THE ASHES
Four years later, in 1967, the villagers were richly rewarded when their new salak plants, especially those from the gulapasir variety began thriving in the ash-rich soil.
Although it took consumers a further two decades to finally appreciate the gulapasir variety and accept it as the gold standard for all salak fruits produced in the Indonesian archipelago, the people of Sibetan had already come to realise that Mount Agung's devastating eruption was actually a blessing in disguise.
“Like its name, salak gulapasir tastes as sweet as sugar. Most Sibetan farmers cultivate this variety due to its superior market value. Each season, a mature salak gulapasir plant can produce between three to five fruit bunches which have a cumulative weight of about five kilogrammes,” remarks Gusti, handing me an unusually large fruit to sample.
Savouring the delicious snack, I listen with interest as Gusti adds: “The trees start bearing fruit in December. You couldn’t have timed your visit any better as March is the peak of salak harvest here in Sibetan village.”
Plucking another one, he lets me have a closer look at its external features while explaining that the salak is also called the snake fruit due to the overlapping brown rectangular-shaped scales that bear close resemblance to the patterns on reptilian skin. Young fruits have a dark brown hue and are covered with numerous tiny but sharp thorns that help deter predation.
LOOKING FOR RIPE FRUITS
Using the discarded skin from my fruit as comparison, Gusti explains that the minute thorns drop off upon maturity and the fruit can be plucked when it adopts a slight yellowish external coloration and emits a fragrant smell.
To prove his point, he invites me to join him for a quick walkabout. It takes a while for my olfactory cells to get accustomed to the distinct ripe salak aroma. After that, it doesn’t take much effort for me to locate fruit bunches which are ready for the picking by nose alone!
Ripe fruits have skins that peel off easily to reveal pale yellowish lobes that look very much like oversized garlic pips. The crunchy flesh has a texture similar to apples and pears. In the middle of each lobe is a large inedible dark brown seed.
During our walkabout, Gusti constantly reminds me to steer clear of inch-long thorns that cover most parts of the salak trees.
“They’re as razor sharp and may cause a nasty cut if you’re not careful,” he cautions while telling me that the salak is actually a palm species that’s endemic to Indonesian archipelago highlands that receive year-round rainfall and sunlight.
When quizzed about what the future holds for the salak industry in Sibetan village, Gusti draws a deep breath and casts a forlorn gaze towards several young boys walking along a path just outside the boundary of his property.
His voice low, he replies: “The serene surroundings in Sibetan village belie the many challenges faced by salak farmers here. We fully recognise and embrace the potential of agro-tourism as an economic growth driver but, despite Bali's phenomenal success in attracting foreign tourists, not even a small fraction make their way to our doorstep. There’s a clear imbalance of revenue sharing.”
While hoping for a better future for Sibetan's younger generation, Gusti is, on the other hand, adverse to changes that negatively impact the lives of his people who have lived here for generations.
He’s aware of problems brought about by progress and abhors environmental damage, land function diversion, social culture exploitation and crime.
“We’ll never sacrifice what we have now in return for tourist dollars. Sustainable principles related to environmental, economic and socio-cultural aspects of agro-tourism development must be first be addressed to reduce risk of natural damage and the cultural exploitation of the locals,” he adds.
Apart from that, the farmers in Sibetan also face problems of price fluctuations and imbalanced seasonal demand.
“Both these problems are interrelated. Prices drop when we produce too much and vice versa. It’s all about supply and demand. At times we have so much that all the smaller sized fruits are just left to rot in the sun. It breaks my heart to see the fruits of our labour go to waste,” confides Gusti.
True to the saying that necessity is the mother of invention, the wastage prompted Sibetan farmers to seek out ways to prolong the shelf life of their fruits which barely keep for more than a fortnight under normal tropical conditions. Over time, they not only found ways to make full use of their excess fruits but also add value to them. They came up with salak chips, wine and even candy!
SALAK PRODUCTS
“Have a look at our products at the community sales centre which is further down the road. Your support will be greatly appreciated,” adds Gusti as he bids me farewell.
A few steps later, I turn back to find him lovingly tending to his beloved salak plants again.
Encouraged by Gusti's warm hospitality, I make my way to the community sales centre, which takes the form of a small open sided shed by a piece of flat land overlooking the surrounding highlands.
The tables are heavily laden with keranjang bambua or rectangular bamboo baskets filled with premium salak fruits of the gulapasir variety. My purse strings start to loosen after discovering that they’re priced at less than a third of the normal asking price at shops back in Legian.
That aside, there are also opportunities to sample innovative products like salak wine and crispy salak chips. The former is an acquired taste but the same cannot be said about the delightful chips. Needless to say, more than a couple of packets quickly find their way into my already bulging bag.
“Ready to go?” The driver's voice catches me by surprise as I stand listening to a group of talented village kids belting out tuneful gamelan music. The melodious notes nicely sum up my amazing visit to this special part of Karangasem regency.
During the journey back, I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of admiration for the residents of Sibetan.
Apart from their resilience and willingness to embrace innovation, I also find their uncompromising approach towards the preservation of the natural environment highly commendable. These attributes will surely stand these warm and friendly people in good stead as they face the future together.