We both finished our whiskey, grabbed our cigarettes and ran laughing out of the bar and into the sticky January night, its moon curtained by the season's cloud. I grabbed at Ketut and she squealed with teased delight, slapping at my improper hands as she escaped my grasp. She was gorgeous and I wanted her.
I was a naive know-it-all type of young man and she was a well rehearsed, deceitful exotic beauty who had snared the perfect prey. The invitation to join her at her place, so we might know each other in different ways, was to be the final card played in her risky little game and having done that, the trap was set.
Mounting her motorbike that had lay hidden down a small alley at the back of the bar, we started to work our way through the heavy traffic
of Kuta, me using the excuse of momentum every time we slowed to lean my chest lightly against her back and grip the outside of her thighs with my knees. She would respond with a soft pat of my leg and I would try to imagine what might lay behind the remainder of the night with this Balinese beauty. My imaginings were so far removed from reality that I would wish I had never met her. I know for certain I will never forget her.
Assuming Ketut lived close by in Kuta or Legian I was surprised, but not shocked, when we started heading north to Denpasar. I leaned close to her ear and asked where we were going and she indeed confirmed she lived in the Balinese capital and that I shouldn't worry as we would be there shortly and she would bring me back in the morning. With that Ketut powered the bike on and strands of her hair licked at the sides of my face as we sped toward her home.
Soon after entering the capital we veered off the main arterial road into the side streets, winding our way into darker quarters on worsening roads until eventually I hadn't a clue where we were or how I would get back if I was left to my own means. After a short time we finally pulled up outside a small block of rooms that was in almost complete darkness except for a single light that shone from the porch of the apartment furthest left, Ketut's home.
Dismounting her bike I looked back over my shoulder down the small street. It was vacant of life and very dark. I also noticed how very quiet it was for a suburban Indonesian street.Turning to follow Ketut to her flat I saw a small laneway that ran alongside her room that seemed to end at a brick wall. Ketut called to me so as to hurry me up and it was only now I considered all may not have been what it seemed.
Her home was a simple affair. One large room sparsely furnished with a double bed, a small table and two chairs, a dresser with lots of make-up strewn across its top, a gas stove placed on top of a small cupboard and a pantry. She had made a reasonably successful attempt at warming the space up with a couple of sarongs, photos and a print on the wall. Other than a small attached bathroom with a squat toilet, this was her home.
We seated ourselves at the table which sat against the same wall as the door. If the front door were to open any more than half way it would hit the back of my chair. Conversation had become uneasy and I noticed Ketut becoming agitated and I worried perhaps she had changed her idea as to what the remainder of the night might hold for us. The knock at the door gave me something much worse to worry about.
Ketut jumped when the sound of our visitor made themselves heard via their knocking. I started to jump to conclusions as to who I thought it might be. An angry boyfriend she had forgotten to tell me about, an over protective father who had heard she was cavorting with a westerner or perhaps corrupt police officers wanting a bribe with the very real threat of being locked up for a few days if I didn't have enough money to give them.
Opening the door I heard the quiet controlled voice of a man. Ketut never once spoke. At the first pause in his dialogue I felt the hand of my host on my shoulder, gently, and then the last thing I wanted to hear. It was the polisi and I was to go outside.
I rose and went to the door, fully understanding my predicament as I did so. And, fully understanding the little scam these people had working. Find a fresh young westerner and lure him with a beautiful Balinese woman to a dark and dangerous part of Denpasar, then intimidate him into giving you as much money as you can. I threw Ketut a disgusting look and went to the door to be confronted with a short man in a uniform covered in various shapes of polished silver and brass. He stood with the palm of his right hand resting on the butt of his gun which was holstered to his hip. He looked at me initially with no emotion at all then with a voice much louder than the tone he used with my host, he demanded my passport.
He waved me outside to follow him and I saw over his shoulder four other officers leaning against a Polisi personel carrier, each of them smoking. To this day I still don't know how I didn't hear them arrive. The officer turned and as he did so I heard the door close behind me. Ketut had played her part perfectly and now it was up to the polisi to extract her reward.
He read allowed the details from my passport then looked at me with an enormous smile. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to be impressed by his ability to read english or whether it was the fact I was an Australian and they were generally understood to be a good catch. I didn't respond to his self approving grin. I just stared at him. He didn't like it.
Giving the universal signal for intimate relations, while still holding my passport,he burst into a rave about western men and Indonesian women being engaged in that type of behaviour. How it was against the law and I could expect to spend a long time in an Indonesian jail, which were much worse than anything I could imagine.Throwing my document to the ground the policeman then screwed it into the soil with his shiny boot. After disfiguring my passport he told me to pick it up. He stood so very close to my passport as I lent down to retrieve it, to suggest no doubt he could kick me to heaven if he wanted.
Placing his hand in the small of my back this horrible little man pushed me toward the alley. I looked again to the other Polisi, and they were now following as we headed into the dark lane, stopping so as to stand across from the building wall, offering me no way of escape.
It eventually played out as I expected, more yelling followed by feigned concern. I had had enough, withdrew my money belt and handed over everything in it. A sum totaling about two hundred Australian. He gave my passport back and pointed toward the road telling me to leave. The others parted and I walked through out onto the road with no idea where I was. I needed to find light. I needed to get out of the darkness where I was a soft target. I was more nervous walking here than being screwed over by the Polisi just before.
Looking around I could see a greater concentration of light being reflected off the low lying cloud about two kilometres away and set off in that direction. After about ten minutes with lights flashing and sirens blaring the Polisi were back and pulled up along side. One of the officers jumped out of the back and approached me. He told me to get in the back of the personel carrier. He said it wasn't safe for me here, they would take me back to Kuta. I couldn't believe it and just burst into laughter, being joined by them all. It was so surreal I laughed for five minutes.
They did take me to Kuta, Bemo corner, and a jovial little trip back it was. Gave me a packet of cigarettes. I sat on the kerb, lit a smoke and laughed again as they left.
# I want to say this occurred some time ago and I don't believe it is something you would expect to happen these days. Crime is not unheard of obviously, but these types of incidents are extremely rare as far as I know.
Cheers
Ham