It took quite so long for me to get interested enough to even consider a trip to Bali. Bali to me was too ‘over-exposed’ that I could name at least a dozen of my friends on my FB list who had been there and had posted pictures of them in just about every corner of Bali – leaving nothing for me to discover or even brag about in case I went to this tropical tourist magnet.
One thing you gotta know about Bali is the fact that it is part of the Indonesian Republic. And when we’re talking about Indonesia, we can’t help but associate it with corruption and bribery. Corruption, from the smallest scale among the lowest rank of government officers to the million-dollar ‘under-the-table’ businesses that have had in the past involved among others, Indonesian presidents.
So – true enough, my encounter with corrupt officers came quite too soon. At the immigration counter inside the terminal building of Bali Airport, we could only see the counters with VISA signs hanging overhead (or plastered, I can’t remember) and even though we were quite sure that we didn’t need a visa to enter Indonesia, we joined the rest of the people to line up for the immigration check.
When my turn had finally come, the immigration officer in being a little bit cynical to a Malaysian like me, sarcastically said ‘Pakcik! Malaysia di sebelah sana lah’ (Uncle! Malaysians over there!). Fine, pakcik. That was so funny I could laugh my dick off.
Apparently the immigration check counters for those who don’t need visa to enter Indonesia are a little bit further down the hall so you wouldn’t immediately see them unless you walk a little bit further on.
So, thinking that may be I should write something about it and may be I might need a picture to come with it in my blog; I casually took a picture of the right counter (to go to). That was when I heard one of the immigration officers yelled out to me, saying something like ‘woi!’ and repeatedly saying ‘Mari! Mari! Mari!’ (come here! Come here! Come here!) as if a teacher asking a 6-year-old kid to come back to class after a recess. The way he waved me over was already disrespectful.
The no-photo sign was quite far from where I was standing so it was impossible for me to see them from a distance of 15 meters or so. Walking towards the officer, only then I noticed the sign but of course I was expecting I’d be get warned and asked to delete the picture that I took – as any civilized person would do.
Apparently, it turned that it was much more than just a warning and deleting of photo. He took the camera away from me and said ‘Ngak bisa ambil gambar! Ngak bisa! Ngak bisa!’ (Cannot take photo, cannot! Cannot!).
Then he said ‘Look down there, there’s a sign that says no photography’ while pointing at the side of the counter. I looked and there was none. Caught off-guard he pointed at another counter and said ‘May be over there’ and again, no sign of no-photography there. You see, he didn’t even know where the sign was. Wherever he was pointing at, there was no sign of ‘no photography’ there. And he didn’t care. Of course he was up for something else.
‘I am going to take this camera’ he said, as if it taking a camera is not a big deal to him, as if he’d taken so many cameras from foreigners all throughout his working hours as an immigration officer.
I was dumb-struck. The had just bought the camera for some USD600 a few days before the trip. It was not really about the price but the fact that I was coming into Bali without a camera was too bitter to swallow.
I really thought he was joking. He looked at another officer who was standing somewhere in the back and said ‘That is my ketua’. The man whom he referred to as his ketua (head officer) flashed a conspiratorial smile, nodding his head a little as if reiterating that he was indeed the ketua.
I was still expecting that he’d come up with a warning and return my camera but he wouldn’t show any sign of compromising. He continued doing his work as if the thing with the camera was over and the camera was now his.
When he sensed that I wouldn’t go away, he swiveled around in his chair (I was by then through with the passport stamping and was on the other side of the counter) and beckoned me over. He didn’t even bother to look around or at least lowered his voice when he asked ‘How much have you got?’.
Oh well, I knew right from the beginning that he was up for money. He really asked it so casually as if asking for money in front of the public is something so normal to do.
Of course I wouldn’t give him money just like that. I told him I didn’t have money, that I was there on a sponsored trip, that I was broke, and I was from Malaysia, and that Malaysians are mostly broke – JUST LIKE YOU PEOPLE. Yupp, I said that right in his face.
But he wouldn’t buy it. ‘Mana mungkin. Datang melancong ke Bali mesti banyak uang’ (How come? You come to Bali, you sure have plenty of money). I was beginning to get upset. I looked around, looking for somebody from whom I could get at least some concerns if not sympathy.
I was so sure that most of the officers heard every word he said since they were quite close to each other but NONE of them would even bother to look or care. It was very obvious that they all had the same kind of shitheads.
The only person that I could trace some sympathy from was a man, probably in his 50’s, who was there to double check on the cards of arrival. He was walking from one counter to another to collect the stamped cards and I took the chance to talk to him and told him my problem. “I want to talk to your ketua or whoever the person in-charge here”, I told him. He asked me to wait and he disappeared briefly. When he showed up again, nobody was with him. Again, he asked me to wait with a hand-gesture and I waited. He seemed to be unsure of whether to help me or not.
Again, the immigration officer turned to look at me in between his stampings, probably knowing that I was attempting something that he knew would lead to no avail, and said ‘So how? I can’t give you the camera back just like that. The ketua would be angry. He already saw me take the camera just now. I need to give him some money too”.
HOLY SHIT. Can you believe he said that?? He HAD to give his ketua some money as if was like an obligation or something. At that point, I was getting really really angry. I knew I could just give him some money and get it over with but that was not me. I knew what they were doing was wrong and I was not going to let myself fall into the trap that they had set for unsuspecting tourists like me.
I told him I wasn’t going anywhere until he gave me my camera back. “Biar pun sampai malam” (Even if I had to wait til night) I told him.
So I waited and the officer would return to doing his work and he’d turn to me again, hoping that I’d give up and give him money. I told him, I wouldn’t give him any money and that I was in no rush and that I wouldn’t leave until he gave my camera back.
That appeared to have worked on him a little. When this ketua of his had finally turned up again, he handed the camera to him and said ‘Apa yang perlu kita buat untuk dia ini?’ (What are we going to do with this man?).
The ketua took the camera, shook his head with dissatisfied face and handed the camera over to me. “Ambil kamera ini. Lain kali jangan buat”. (Take this camera back. Never do it again).
Hell. Wasn’t it the right thing to do right from the beginning? Wasn’t that stupid officer supposed to do that in the first place instead of asking for money?
SO – my trip to Bali didn’t start off quite well. But I tell you, Bali is full of cheaters as I’ve come to find out later in my trip. You might want to read my next posts on Bali if you plan to go there anytime soon. A lot of those cheats can be avoided if you KNOW how to deal with them in the first place. I didn’t do much research when I went there so I was actually letting myself fall right into their nets.
So think Bali, think Indonesia, think corruption.
You can’t be wrong about it.
