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SNOWING IN BALI

That night the car left around midnight, but another car was back, in a slightly different position, a few hours later. Next day, Rafael was ready to play with them. He went surfing.

I think, ‘Okay, my friends, let’s rock,’ and then I make these guys do a tour of Bali. I check the website, where are good waves today? … Nusa Dua. ‘Let’s go to Nusa Dua, my friends,’ and then I drive fast to Nusa Dua. They follow me. I just surf for two hours, they wait for me, they play like not interested, whistling, looking around, but I know they’re undercover cops. Not very undercover … so stupid – the moustache, Ray-Bans, the kind of haircut you know, with jeans and boots, like a uniform.

Each day Rafael spent hours in the water, and walked past the police as he came out, amused as they feigned lack of interest, then cruised the roads again, laughing as they tailed him on a wild goose chase. But after several days of a relentless tailing, he was feeling agitated. Spying on them through his fancy binoculars he’d see them lighting up and smoking cigarettes in the car. One night, he walked out with an unlit cigarette, and cheekily asked for a light.

Sometimes I was pissed, you know, fuck these guys sitting at my door. I can see the light from the burning cigarettes in the dark. I went out wearing only a sarong, just to show off, naked, with an unlit cigarette, and I come to their car, knock on the window, ‘Ah, can I have a light?’ They give me a light. ‘Thank you.’ And then I walk to the beach. Walk back, ‘Hi, bye. Good night.’ And I walk home again, and they drive off half an hour later.

For the next week they followed him, and he acted like a surfing

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