After taking my 1,700,000 rupiah out of to bank to buy my fridge, all was good. I walked away from the bank machine and went to the fridge shop. My desired fridge was still there, I managed to get a written quotation and sort out the delivery. Then the rain started, so I stayed in the shop had a conversation about parties and dancing and of course all essential questions in Indonesia, are you married, how many children, what religion, where do you live - however they did need to know where I live, otherwise they wouldn't be able to deliver the fridge. So I drew a little map, as I am the person with no address. On my little map was Hotel Rima, The church with pink and yellow walls, my little wooden bridge over the drain, Personally I think I excelled and I should consider a future as an artist. After this lengthy discussion it was actually decided it would make much more sense i I just jumped in the van and gave directions. Considering I do not know my left in right in England it was an experience. So I had the craziest 15 minutes in the van, whilst the man driving was smoking, eating and talking on the mobile phone. He then sent a text, and then he typed my phone number into his phone, as it was on the details from the store.
Anyhow got to my place and van driver became action man, he bundled the fridge on his back, he climb's up the little muddy hill in front of my house in his flip flops and landed the fridge in my kitchen. THEN DISASTER - The fridge plug does not reach the kitchen socket. The kitchen socket is about two millimetres too high. However problem is solved fridge is now in the living room until I buy an extension cord. Anyhow paid fridge man, who I later know to be called Paul, and got the fridge on so I could have cold beers that evening with Mark.
Night with the beers a nice success, obviously night life finished about 9pm so I go of to bed, and Mark returns home. Then I start getting loads of text messages, what have I had to eat, am I lonely, do I need company all from a number I do not know. You guessed it, it was from Fridge man. He was brave as he also tried texting the next day, but today I think he has given up because of lack of responsiveness.
Two days later I look or my bank card. I then I remember I did not collect it from the bank machine when I left with the money from the fridge, so I trundle off the to bank on my bike and report it lost. No problem. Another one will be delivered in about three weeks. Also bank staff inform me I have to go the police and report it lost. At the moment I do anything just to stay out of the police's way, as I have heard some horror stories. Luckily Jenny from Bali was here for two days so I treat her to a trip to the local police station.
How many policeman does it take to fill out a form about a missing bank card. 5. One to put on the official stamp, one to fill out the form on the computer, one to look for paper for the printer, One to offer general advice to the one of the computer who does not seem to confident with spelling and another to watch as having two white people enter the police station was a big event.
So I go through the story of the bank card numerous times, only for the police to say I lost the card on the way home. I get to sit next to a quiet Indonesian lady who I was reliably informed was a robber. However despite the hiatus,the form only took 30 minutes. Not bad at all. Had to answer those questions for the form that are very important, married? children? religion? - my god it is just a bank card that I have already had blocked at the bank!!
However quick discussion about premiership football, Wayne Rooney, Old Trafford etc etc, Then I thought in a minute they will want money or their 'administration fee' but it didn't happen, they just let me walk out with my little report of my missing bankcard.
So walked up the road with Jenny, feeling thrilled and had the best veggie lasagne made by Anouk.