How the Little Things Can Bug You
By Vyt Karazija
It’s the little things in Bali that bug you. The broad brush-strokes of life on this island – the weather, the culture, the prices, the freedom – are wonderful, and I treasure them. But it’s the little things that soon become festering irritations that niggle and nibble like termites feasting on your spirit, creating a multitude of disappointments that can tarnish the gloss of life here.
No place is perfect, but when too many dissonances erode one’s ideas of what Bali should be like, it can breed the type of cynicism that seems, over time, to take root in many expats here.
Nowhere is this more noticeable than in the early experiences of brand-new expats. My long-time friend and her son arrived in Bali last week to live here after decades of being frequent visitors. She knows the ropes. She is aware of the way things are done in Bali and accepts them. After one has made the choice to live here semi-permanently, one gets a little dewy-eyed about how great it is going to be. Her recent experience has dimmed that idealism somewhat.
She chose to rent a luxury villa in a good location in Batu Belig. It was advertised at a high-end price, as you would expect for a large villa with all the trimmings. It was presented as being air-conditioned, with a barbeque, phone and Wi-Fi. The Wi-Fi was the clincher for her, as she needs a fast connection for business. The owner was also to expedite the long-term rental of a near-new car and provide a full-time driver.
So she arrives, and the villa looks beautiful in its aspect and presentation. But there is no car and no driver, and her son starts school the next day. Reach for the phone. Er, sorry, the phone is not connected – the bill has not been paid. So that first glitch is fixed forthwith, but after firing up her laptop for a few essential money transfers, she finds there is no internet connectivity.
More bemused than annoyed, my friend asks where the modem and router are for the Wi-Fi and is told: “Oh, you just plug your laptop into the phone socket…” OK, so there is no Wi-Fi; it’s a dial-up connection! Great. Two-decade-old technology in a luxury villa: 20 minutes to download a page, 10 minutes for an email, and forget Skype – it’s as inaccessible as Pluto. Call an IT tech – yep, can connect you in a week. Uh oh, this is not looking good for her business.
Unfortunately, the litany of disappointments continues. None of the four air-conditioners emit more than the barest exhalation of tepid air. Call the service technicians, who, aghast, say the units have never been serviced. The pembantu confirms that, no, the owner has not had them looked at in four years. My friend watches as box after box of compacted dust and congealed grime is scraped out and taken away. And there is no refrigerant left in any of the compressors. The cleaning and re-gassing is messy, time-consuming and expensive. The expat owner magnanimously offers to pay half. My friend grips her lip. No sense in fomenting confrontation at this early stage; that can come later.
To regain her good cheer, the new expat can at least have a barbeque, right? Wrong. Closer examination of this appliance reveals a rusting hulk with burners that look like they will disintegrate at the merest touch. No one is game enough to light the thing in case it explodes in a fireball that grills the diners instead of the meal. Oh well, looks like bungkus for her tonight.
After two days of having to hire a temporary car and driver, the promised sleek, low-mileage, near-new, long-term rental car finally arrives. Except it turns out to be a ancient wreck with 125,000 kilometres on the clock, collapsed shock-absorbers, multiple dents (which the car-hire man studiously tries to avoid putting on the condition report), a broken driver-side window winder, broken mirror and a non-functioning air-conditioner – for a mere Rp2.8 million a month. What! Where’s the new car we were promised? “No, no,” says the man, “this is the only car we have for hire.”
It is late, so my friend puts up with this abomination, intending to sort it out the next day. She doesn’t get the chance – the heap expires next morning on its first trip, leaving its passengers stranded.
OK, they are little things, all fixable, albeit at my friend’s expense. A tech is setting up the Wi-Fi, the air-conditioners now work and the car returned to the hire place with a request for a full refund. The hire place, loath to return the money, miraculously discovers that they do have the new car she was supposed to get after all. It must have been parked somewhere inconspicuous. But, like I said, it’s the little things that bug people, and this experience was not a great introduction for a new expat looking forward to Bali life. People such as landlords only get one chance to create a good first impression. The same goes for purveyors of hire cars.
And the barbeque? Well, I guess my friend will just have to buy a new one. The landlord might even offer to pay half, if she’s lucky.
Vyt Karazija writes at blog at www,borborigmus.wordpress.com and can be emailed at firstname.lastname@example.org.Filed under: Vyt's Line