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SNOWING IN BALI

‘Right, so you see me wake up every day 5 am, surf, take the kids to school. You don’t see me in the clubs every night, do you? Drug dealers, they are in the nightclubs,’ he said, now on a roll with his spiel.

‘If you really follow me for the last two years, you see I sleep every day at 9 pm. I wake up 5 am, do yoga, do surfing, teach my kids how to surf. Fuck, you don’t think about how you stayed here for one month and didn’t see anything? I see you guys out there all the time, like you did this morning. You have to be more discreet. Look at my lens . . . they’re much bigger than yours. I see you; I can see the hole in your tooth from here. You cannot work like that. If I’m a real drug dealer I can shoot you from here.’

The guy feel so embarrassed when I give this kind of comment to him.

They’d been searching for three hours and found nothing. In a desperate attempt to extract something from the morning’s raid, the boss asked Rafael, ‘Can you give some money?’

‘What! Why?’

‘Because I have to do a course in Jakarta, I need money.’

‘No, I can’t give you money. First I have kids to take care of, school fees, visas. Why would I give you money for nothing?’

‘Please, Pak [Mr] Rafael, just two million rupiah [$200] to help me with the ticket to Jakarta?’

I say, ‘No, sorry. Please can you go, take your friends from my house. I want to rest.’ Pak Wayan [alias] – you know he’s boss of the cops, Intel, long hair, looks like a gangster – I refused to give him money.

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