Another chapter....

Anyone who has lived in Indonesia can tell you that they are the masters of DIY. No one is necessarily qualified to do the job required; however, they don’t let a tiny thing like that stop them.
Pa Putu was, of course, Paris’s general handyman – despite the fact that he had been asked not to on several occasions, this had done nothing to dampen his enthusiasm if there was a “fix it job” around the place.
Where the Australians excel in the use of fencing wire and duct tape, the Indonesians take a more traditional approach, with lashings of bamboo, string and more bamboo. In fact, it would appear that if it couldn’t be mended with a few lengths of bamboo, then it needed to re-built completely so that it could, and that included electrical items.
As just about everything that was purchased in Bali, of course, managed to render itself US (Un-Serviceable) within the space of a week or two, there was quite a list of items that Pa Putu had turned his hand at repairing (rather than have Paris buy a new one) – everything from mops (new bamboo handles, or new bamboo pivots for the heads), ladders (new bamboo struts and steps – not particularly stable but Pa Putu seemed to trust it), door handles (little bamboo bits inserted as spacers), garden taps (string tightened with bamboo to hold it on the outlet), even down to the doorbell, which threw itself off the wall one day to ricochet off the tiles a few times, and stopped working. It now boasted hand cut, tiny bamboo braces glued to hold the loose wires and speaker in place again – Paris didn’t have the heart to reveal to Pa Putu that it only cost $6.00Au in the first place, especially after he had spent a good two hours with tweezers and a razorblade imitating a surgeon.
This one mindedness also extends to jobs around the home that we in Australia would not think twice to call an expert.
In the front yard of our villa, there was a large coconut tree that was strategically planted so that it grew directly under the house electrical wires, which were connected to a huge substation 3 meters away on the main road. This meant that the tangle of thick cables carrying all the electricity for Jimbaran, Kuta and more than likely Ubud, passed directly in front of us, with a snare of lesser, slightly less lethal volt carrying wires branched out at random intervals and passed over our front garden. Luckily, they had the coconut palm to rest on, or they would probably have dangled into our yard.
Paris had pointed out the stupidity of placement of both the tree and the wires ad-nauseum to Pa Putu, and explained the danger while tut-tutting over the whole deadly scenario daily.
One afternoon, after Paris’s regular inspection of the front yard, and associated beef session about the tree, Pa Putu stated he would go and do some “farming” – his word for gardening. Paris was not surprised to see Pa Putu disappear down the back to where he kept his favourite “sharpening stone”. He often spent hours sharpening knives, gardening equipment and other metal objects, and so this was not an unusual thing.
What was unusual was when Paris ventured out to the front veranda, she found Pa Putu, aluminium pool extension handle with a razor sharp machete tied to the top in hand, hacking away at the coconut palm and by default, the electrical wires.
“Crap” yelled Paris “Don’t do that – you’ll get electrocuted!” cringing as Pa Putu was still blindly hacking away, yet turned to face Paris.
“Tidak apa-apa” beamed Pa Putu, resting the machete on the wires for a break while mopping his brow, “machete very sharp, Mrs., will cut easily”
“That’s what I’m worried about” Paris muttered, staring in disbelief as pieces of coconut palm leaf showered down on Pa Putu, who was still in one piece, and didn’t at this stage resemble anything fried.
When Paris finally convinced Pa Putu that he had cut enough away from the wires, he delivered a final flourish of the machete, and a small young green coconut landed at his feet.
“This one good for drinking, also for hangover Mrs – you drink coconut water, feel better langsung (immediately)” he stated deftly slashing the top off it and taking a long swig.
“Excellent” thought Paris “I’ll need one in the morning after watching you do that”.