It started all when I noticed I was close to missing out my date of entering Indonesia. I was very close to be more specific. In fact it was the evening before.
Every expat on a visit-, or tourist-visa is very eager to extend the visa or get a new one, simply because you will get charged 300k for every day you are in Indonesia without a visa when leaving the country. It doesn’t sound much, but like so many things here – it sums up quickly.
So what did you do?
I knew I needed somebody local being registered in Bali, so I took (or rather “sat” on) my scooter and basically started to think. Who could be my “sponsor”, who I could ask, who wouldn’t charge me for that favor and who is registered in Bali, because only rather few local people are.
So I simply drove in the yard of my neighbor Nenggah. I knew by his name, his dress and the dresses of his family he was “Bali asli”, an original natural-born Balinnese man. He said “no problem. I’ve got a friend working at the Imigrasi, just give me your passport!”
Then actually the first part of my weird story began…
I felt naked, vulnerable and helpless without my passport when I rode to the Imigrasi the next morning, because I had no idea what would happen there. From Nenggah I got a number that I should text in exchange for my passport.