Immediately to the west of the kava cultures of the Pacific extends a vast territory, stretching from New Guinea, north to China and west to Madagascar, where the habit of betel-chewing dates back far into prehistory. The ‘quid’ that is chewed may contain many ingredients, but three are essential: the nut of the areca palm, wrapped in the leaf of the betel pepper, which is spread with a paste of lime ash. The lime precipitates and releases alkaloids in the two plants that combine to produce a mild and agreeable combination of alertness, relaxation and euphoria, as well as aiding digestion and stimulating the production of red-stained saliva.
Although the betel habit is rich in sacred symbolism, with countless mythological stories woven around the origins of its ingredients, it is essentially a secular practice whose domain is one of leisure, hospitality and luxury. Women partake as frequently as men - more so, in fact, in societies such as Indonesia where men increasingly smoke clove cigarettes in its place. Like tobacco, it generates a low-level social economy where peasant women squat in markets, village squares and street corners to exchange small packages of nut, leaf and lime for the spare coins of labourers and shopkeepers, for whom betel buys a few minutes of private relaxation or convivial gossip. Its recreational virtues are sanctioned by centuries of tradition: a sixth-century Indian text lists it as one of the eight enjoyments of life (along with incense, women, clothes, music, beds, food and flowers).
The betel quid has many variants but three essential components: the nut of the areca palm, spread with lime ash and folded in the leaf of the betel pepper. When chewed, the lime releases the alkaloids in the other two plants. (From ‘Betel Cutters fTom the Samuel Eilenberg Collection’ by Henry Brownrigg, courtesy Editions Hansjorg Mayer)
As with any such commodity, there are products and prices to suit all tastes. Some prefer their areca nuts young and soft, while others will pay more for the astringent tannins that develop when they are dried and cured. Sellers need to know their market: the betel that fetches the best price in the highlands will often be regarded as inferior on the coast. Beyond its essential ingredients, costly spices can be added - cloves, musk, camphor - for sweet breath. Those who wish to display generous hospitality will buy fresh betel, perhaps of a higher quality than their daily chew. Elegant betel habits are a sign of refinement: young women will be judged on how neatly they roll their leaf into a quid. The habit is one of private gratification, but its outward signs communicate clear messages of
Sophistication and character. As with coffee or wine, the rituals of preparation and consumption socialize a desire for intoxication that might otherwise appear unseemly or selfish.
A seventeenth-century Mughal prince reclining among the traditional ‘enjoyments of life’, including an ornate betel set in the foreground. (V&A Images, Victoria and Albert Museum, London)
The various components of the betel chew have, over the centuries, lent themselves to a profusion of utensils through which different gradations of wealth and taste are expressed and a decorative aesthetic is explored and refined. The practice requires, at the bare minimum, a tray on which to lay out the ingredients; it is also desirable to have a cutter to slice the nut, a vase or pouch to contain the leaves, a pot to hold the lime and a spatula to spread it on the leaf. For most villagers these will be made of everyday materials such as wood or rattan, but for those aspiring to higher status they are the perfect pretext for a conspicuous display of wealth. The first European visitors to south-east Asia were staggered by the ornate betel sets used by the royalty of Khmer and Siam. Gold and silver boxes, cutters and bowls, enamelled, chased and filigreed, were accompanied by solid gold spittoons, and carried by a procession of ‘betel slaves’ constantly busy with lime, nut and leaf, pestles and mortars, lip salves and holders for quids
Awaiting consumption.
This type of royal display set the tone for courtiers, nobles and merchants, and established a diversity of regional styles and materials. Classic Burmese betel-ware consisted of round lacquered boxes, intricately worked with designs in red, black and gold, and opening to reveal a nest of smaller polished trays and implements. In the Malay peninsula, specialist metalworking trades turned to producing sets in pale brass alloys, filigreed with Arabic script; in Indonesia, cutters were worked into the sinuous shapes of wayang shadow-puppets. The economy of betel extends far beyond the drug itself. Even in its most costly forms, spiced and scented with musk and ambergris, it is only the springboard for a cult of material indulgence: formed around a shared and cherished intoxication, but elaborated into an endless variety of ways to express cultural identity.
Betel accessories are part of the ornamental tradition of most South Asian cultures. These Balinese betel cutters, used for slicing the areca nut, are modelled on familiar characters from the wayang shadow-puppet theatre. (From ‘Betel Cutters from the Samuel Eilenberg Collection’ by Henry Brownrigg, courtesy Editions Hansjorg Mayer)
Betel accessories are part of the ornamental tradition of most South Asian cultures. The lacquerware lid of a Burmese betel box opens to reveal highly polished compartments that hold the ingredients for the quid. (© The Trustees of the British Museum)
‘Betel nut beauties’ are a familiar part of the urban landscape of Taiwan, where their brightly lit glass kiosks line the main traffic routes. They sell ready-rolled betel quids to motorists and truck drivers, for whose attention they compete with their skimpy and alluring outfits. (© Tobie Openshaw)
World History
