Twilight in Kuta

by David Nesbit

  However, I had a problem. I didn’t want to make love with her; I only wanted to talk to her. This had seemed like a good idea before but now my natural shyness was taking over and I was trying not to panic. I just wanted to get out of the situation without annoying her or losing face too much.

  How was I going to manage that?

  It wasn’t that I didn’t find her attractive, or that I was saving myself, or I was some sort of puritan. It was just that I didn’t want to. I was just interested in the whole scene and I wanted to learn more, or that’s what I was telling myself, anyway.

  I watched her take her skirt and blouse off and squat down in the corner with the tap. There was barely a trickle from it but she used it to wash some of the sweat and grime off her legs and stomach before signalling for me to do the same and going over to the bed.

  I had a sudden idea. I would feign impotency.

  Good idea? Not quite.

  ‘What’s wrong, sayang?’ she said when she saw me reluctant to get undressed.

  I stammered something about not being up to the job and changing my mind but still, of course, paying her, but she wasn’t having any of that.

  ‘Come on, Sayang. I will assist you,’ she said, helpfully.

  I wasn’t banking on this, but she came to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder and breathed warm scented air into my ear. I had no chance. Nature took its course as I involuntarily appeared on the parade ground, in a manner of speaking.

  ‘Seems alright to me,’ she giggled as she wriggled out of her underwear.

  It was nice. There is no getting away from that, I enjoyed it and although I felt a certain guilt, I didn’t feel particularly dirty as I thought I might, even though this had not been my intention at the start of the evening. Devi was kind to me and helped me through with my somewhat clumsy and inexperienced fumbling without complaint, unlike the other couple of girls I had been with back in my village, and all in all I would say it was worth every rupiah.

  I still wanted to talk to her, though, and to find out more about her and how and why she was doing this job, and in particular what had happened with her customer on the night I first saw her. My gentle probing in this direction wasn’t very fruitful initially, but as we lay there post-coital, she began to open up a bit. She told me she came from a village similar to mine and initially she had worked as a maid to a Chinese-Indonesian family in one of the nicer areas of the city, in a place called Pondok Indah, but she had had to work so hard for so little money that she after a few months she had left and started working in a bar in a position one of the local motorcycle taxi drivers, tukang ojek, had helped her get.

  From there she had ended up working here in the market. I asked her why she had left the bar but she just shook her head indicating she wasn’t going to tell me and I didn’t push it.

  I told her what I was doing at present and that while that was fine for now I would want to move onto something a bit better in time. Devi listened to me with what appeared to be genuine interest and I found myself definitely taking a bit of a shine to her. Not in a romantic way, you understand, but she did seem to be a genuinely pleasant and nice person who was easy to listen to. I told her I was sure I could be a success in my life if I just got the chance but I was finding it a bit difficult to make the breakthrough.

  Devi was quiet for a while but then started to speak,

  ‘Well, I think someone like you should be able to make a go of things here.’

  I was confused: ‘Someone like me?’

  She grinned. A cute smile. ‘Yes, a smart nice lad. You could go far. I could, I suppose, help you.’

  It was then that she made a suggestion that helped to turn things around for me.

  ‘Why don’t you come and work for Pak Neil?’ she asked. ‘He is always looking for smart young men.’

  ‘Who is he?’ I asked.

  ‘He is this bule guy who has a many bars and apartments around the Kedoya area, where I used to work, and he employs chaps such as you to help out.’

  ‘Doing what?’ I was intrigued now.

  ‘Doing whatever is needed,’ she replied, just a little tersely. ‘I can make a call if you like, let people know a bit about you and see if we can fix you up.’

  I agreed, and she sat on the bed and made a called on her mobile. She turned away from me so I couldn’t hear too well what she was saying but finally she turned back to me and said that it was all fixed – Pak Neil would see me tonight at the Club Mexicanas in Kedoya.

  I was still somewhat concerned about what sort of job I was looking at but nevertheless I could see that this maybe held half a promise for the future. I thanked Devi profusely and gathered up my clothes and got ready to leave. As I was about ready to go she walked with me to the door and put her arms around me.

  ‘Hati-hati, be careful, Jack. This is my mobile number so please let me know where you are and what happens, ya,’ she said.

  I kissed her nose and thanked her again. I made a promise then that whatever else happened in my life I would never forget Devi and the kindness she had shown to me. It was only as I made my way back to Heri that I remembered I hadn’t even asked her about her experience with the john and his watch.

  My erstwhile brother and his friends were still drinking and playing cards and barely looked up as I sat down at the table, but finally Heri ventured,

  ‘So, how was it?’

  I told him what had happened and about the introduction Devi had made for me with Pak Neil. I asked him if he knew of this guy and what I should do.

  Heri seemed to hesitate a bit before answering, but when he did he told me that Pak Neil was a rich expatriate (bule) well known in the city for running clubs and karaoke bars. Eko joined in and told me that if I could get a job working with him it would be a step up, the salary would be higher than at present and I would get a good ‘street rep’. People would respect me if they knew I was working for him.

  I decided that I would go and meet Pak Neil and see what the deal was, but I was still a bit apprehensive. I didn’t want to get mixed up in anything illegal or immoral. I know that sounds slightly hypocritical seeing that I had just spent time with a lady of the night, but sleeping with such a girl and getting involved in, say, procuring them was totally different.

  Anyway, I decided that there was no point in worrying too much about anything until I knew more information. With that in mind I bade farewell to my brother and his mates and headed off to Club Mexicanas by ojek.

  Kedoya is in the south of the city, and is a fairly run down yet not desperately poor area. There is a strip of what might reasonably be called low-grade shopping malls and pubs or clubs. There are also a few karaoke places and one or two slightly dodgy-looking massage parlours. However, it doesn’t really have a reputation for being a den of vice, just for being a bit seedy.

  Upon arriving at Club Mexicanas, I was made to wait in the lobby for as few minutes and I took the time to take in my surroundings. The first thing that struck me was that place was very dark even in the reception, so much so that I could hardly make out the features of people walking in front of me.

  Music was pumping out from the main part of the club, which was through a thick set of double doors from where I was sitting and even where I was there was an over riding smell of cheap beer and perfume.

  I was quite nervous at the prospect of meeting Pak Neil and this wasn’t helped by the fact that I was left waiting for almost half an hour before this really massive guy came through the double doors, introduced himself as Yusuf and told me to follow him.

  We went back through the double doors into the club proper and into almost pitch-blackness. I was petrified I would lose Yusuf in the darkness and Heri and my parents would never see me again, but somehow we made it over to the other side of the club with me more or less keeping up with him and we entered a small corridor. Here at least the lighting was almost normal and I was able to see again.

  Yusuf stopped outside a door on the left, knocked
once and was called in. I was left waiting in the corridor for another couple of minutes and then the door opened and I was beckoned inside.

  Yusuf stepped out and I was left facing Pak Neil. He was not anything like I had expected. I had anticipated coming face to face with a much bigger man (I don’t know why I thought that, except maybe because successful bule businessmen often are big and fat) and I thought he would be perhaps in his fifties or sixties.

  Instead I found myself in front of a small, frail-looking guy in his early to mid-thirties. He was red-eyed, as if he’d been up all night, or had been crying, and the first thing that struck me was how vulnerable he looked. He didn’t look like anything I imagined a ‘big boss’ would look like, but if I had suspected any weakness about him I was soon to be put right on that score.

  He looked up at me with if not exactly kindness in his eyes, then at least amiability. He sort of grinned at me and motioned for me to sit down in the rickety chair opposite him.

  That was another slightly confusing thing about him: his office. It was rather small, was sparsely furnished with an old practical-looking desk, a threadbare sofa, and a couple of what appeared to be prints of paintings lifted from a cheap motel room.

  For all that, I immediately felt calm and relaxed in this old man’s presence.

  ‘Jack,’ he said. ‘What can I do for you and, more importantly, what can you do for me?’ He spoke to me in passably good Indonesian with just a hint of an accent and only slight grammatical errors.

  ‘I dunno, sir,’ I stammered. ‘I have just recently arrived in the city and I am looking for work. I am a hard worker, smart and am ready to learn.’

  ‘Hmmmm … you are smart?’ he mused. ‘Not too smart, I hope. I don’t trust smart people too much; they are almost as dangerous as stupid people.’ This was said with a twinkle in the eye and another slightly mischievous grin.

  ‘Let me tell you what we do in these here parts and then you can decide if you want to work with us,’ he started. ‘We are here basically to give people what they want and to make a good profit at the same time. Many people want to relax, have some fun and forget about their troubles. You know, Jack, Jakarta is hard. Life is hard. We must be hard too, but we must always remember that we will finally answer to a higher power. Do you believe that, Jack?’

  I nodded, but to tell the truth this old coot was losing me. I didn’t know what he was on about, but he continued nevertheless.

  ‘Jack, I need people I can depend on; people who will help me to help others. I have many pies in which I have fingers and despite what I said a few minutes ago, I need smart young men,’ here he paused, ‘such as yourself to help keep my finger on the pulse of it all.’

  He continued, ‘Now, listen Jack, Devi is a nice girl. One of the best I have met and one of the best I know. She has recommended you to me. I don’t know how you know her or how well, and I don’t want to know, but her word is good enough for me and if you are up for it then you can start here tomorrow night.’

  I didn’t know what to say or think, but I knew I was right about Devi, she was a lovely girl.

  ‘What would be my responsibilities?’ I asked.

  ‘Yusuf will fill you in tomorrow night. I will pay you two million rupiah a month to start with and we’ll see how you get on,’ he told me.

  My mind was spinning. Two million? That was crazy and far, far more than I could have ever hoped for. I merely nodded my agreement and shook his outstretched hand.

  ‘Good. That’s settled then,’ he said and led me back out to the corridor. Once there, Yusuf took charge and led me back to the reception area.

  With a gruff, ‘See you tomorrow,’ I found myself back on the pavement outside.

  I was in a bit of a state of shock as I took another ojek back to Heri’s boarding house but I knew this was a golden opportunity that I couldn’t afford to pass up. I was under no illusions that Pak Neil was going to want a return on his monthly investment and that I would be expected to perform and to perform well, but I had no worries on that score. In all modesty, I knew that I was reasonably intelligent and definitely hard working.

  I was aware that perhaps not all aspects of that esteemed gentleman’s business interests would be completely legitimate, but I felt sure I could keep an eye out for trouble and be ready to adapt to any situation if needs be.

  I told Heri about what had happened and he reinforced my thinking. He said that it was a good chance for me to start making something for myself, but that I should also be careful as there was bound to be some dodgy aspects to my new-found employment.

  It was agreed that I would continue staying with him until I received my first month’s salary and then I could look for somewhere on my own to stay which would afford me a bit of independence. Heri also said I should go to work with him once more just to show my gratitude to his boss for giving me the opportunity in the first place and, of course, so I could say goodbye to the guys who had been so welcoming and friendly during my brief employment there.

  As on my first night in Jakarta, I once again had trouble drifting off to sleep. This time, though, there was a multitude of questions and emotions swimming through my head. I was happy, excited, nervous, worried and a little confused all at the same time, and not for the first or the last time during my life in Jakarta the face of Devi was last thing to bother my consciousness before I finally found sleep.

  The next evening I set off to the Club Mexicanas and the next instalment in my life: one which I hoped would lead to the fulfilment of my hopes for a better future.

  I arrived early, around five pm, and the place was not surprisingly empty. The only people around were some of the staff getting things ready for opening time, which I learnt was at seven although not much in the form of customers was really expected until at least ten.

  I introduced myself to a few of the workers and wandered around aimlessly for a bit while sort of half-heartedly looking for Yusuf. I didn’t quite have the confidence to go into the back of the club into the corridor I had been the previous night, and I just hoped he would come and find me. After a few minutes this was indeed what happened.

  He came out of the back corridor, saw me and then beckoned me to follow him. Without speaking he led me down into what was obviously the cellar and with the minimum of words introduced me to a guy named Endy. With that he left.

  Yusuf was not, I gathered, a great conversationalist. Endy, however, turned out to be the exact opposite. He was a youngish man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and was skinny to the point of emaciation. He was already losing his hair and had a couple of missing teeth, but despite this rather gawky looking appearance he had the most engaging smile and, as I was soon to discover, personality.

  He explained the way things worked in this particular area of the club; that he was the purchasing manager and that his responsibilities included making sure the club was fully stocked and loaded and that, most importantly, the beer never ran out. He said Yusuf had told him to expect me and that I would be working with him for a week or so then I would be handed over to another area of the club’s business.

  It all seemed relatively straightforward to me and I didn’t envisage that there would be any problems in picking up the job and what to do. Endy showed me how to get the barrels in place and ready for the ‘lads’ to install. That’s what he called them -‘lads’. He explained that the club hired some young chaps on a freelance basis to do all the manual work and ‘other bits and bobs’, while the permanent staff, which included us, mainly supervised them and told them what to do. He told me that the job was a pretty decent one and as long as one kept his nose clean and didn’t try anything stupid, like ripping Pak Neil off or upsetting Yusuf, then one could be set up in a very nice number indeed.

  I did wonder briefly at this point exactly what he meant by the ‘lads’ doing ‘other bits and bobs’ and also just how exactly I was going to actually earn the rather large salary I was on, but I figured it wouldn’t be prudent to ask too many qu
estions at that point, and anyway, things would probably become clearer over time.

  Endy showed me a few other things that first evening, such as how to make out orders and to check invoices before they were sent to the accounting and finance department, how to ensure there was enough stock for any one particular night, and what factors to take into consideration when planning ahead. For example, early weekdays such as Mondays and Tuesdays would obviously usually be quieter than days later in the week, especially Fridays and Saturdays, while the club hardly had any customers at all on Sundays yet still opened for business. I wondered aloud why Pak Neil bothered to open on Sundays as Endy told me he probably made a loss on that day of the week, but Endy just smiled again and shrugged, so I left it.

  For most of the rest of the evening, Endy and I just chatted amiably in the cellar area but a couple of times we went for a walk around the club to see what was going on. It was just as dark as I remembered from the night before but slowly my eyes got used to the darkness and I was able to see a little bit more of what the club was like and what was going on.

  The club was made up of two bars on different floors and a set of karaoke rooms off to the left of the bar on the lower floor. The upper room bar ran along the full length of the room and this area had a number of sofas and tables where patrons could sit and order food. While not exactly the height of luxury, this bar had a certain refinement to it and it seemed to be the place where genuine couples, rather than those who had just met, could come and talk and enjoy an evening out.

  The downstairs bar was a little different. Both the entire room and the bar itself were a lot smaller than those upstairs, presumably because the upstairs bar also overhung the reception / entrance area, and it just seemed a little seedier all round. There were almost no chairs and certainly no sofas, and so the clientele had to stand. It seemed more like a pub than a club to me, not that I had had much experience of either at that point.

  When Endy and I first walked around the club it was around ten-thirty and the place was still no more than about one third full, but when we had a second stroll around about an hour and a half later things were much different.