April 28, 2015
Getting to know Tom better: One last day in Bagan Batu
Despite my being keen to move on and put some ground between me and the Muchsin conspiracy, Tom wanted a rest day and so we spent one more day at the school in Bagan Batu. In the morning of that day we walked to a nearby little outdoor café for breakfast and on the way I asked Tom what team the football shirt he was wearing represented. “I don’t know man,” he laughed, and then, looking down at the badge, he read “Cor-in-thi-ans. I don’t know who they are. I found it at the side of the road. I find all my clothes man.”
I considered this very resourceful of Tom, and decided to chalk it up as a point in his favour as the interview process began over our fried noodle breakfast. The interview, of course, was for the position of my luckless assistant.
“I’m looking for a hapless sidekick Tom. I think you could be right for the role.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah man! Exactly! I want to be your sidekick. You do all the planning, I don’t want to do any of that. I’ll just follow. Yeah, hapless sidekick. I like that!”
This was the easiest sidekick recruitment yet. He was positively enthusiastic about taking on a subordinate position, and we had weeks of cycling together, followed by a cruise, to look forward to. It seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong now.
“Oh, by the way,” he added in a matter-of-fact manner as he took a long drag on his cigarette, “I’m an alcoholic.”
This was, I decided, not something that should be counted against a candidate that had shown such enthusiasm and could perhaps even be thought of as a positive attribute in the realm of haplessness. Besides, Tom went on to clarify that he wasn’t really an alcoholic, but that he had alcoholic tendencies. That he could go weeks or months without drinking, but that once he started, once he had one drink, it tended to lead to a binge that would go on for several days. I made a mental note to try and keep him away from booze as much as possible, particularly on the cruise when it would be my credit card that was linked to our onboard account and consequently the bar tab for our room.
After breakfast we went into the nearby supermarket for supplies. Tom, showing less resourcefulness now, bought nothing but a big bag of coffee powder. He’d already put away two cups that morning over breakfast. “I drink a lot of coffee, man,” he explained, the whites of his eyes glistening, “I used to do a lot of amphetamines, but now I just drink coffee, it’s the closest I get to the buzz!” As with so many things that Tom said I wasn’t entirely sure to what extent he was being serious and how much he was joking. He bellowed with laughter afterwards, although that could well support either side of the argument.
What was working in Tom’s favour was that he seemed to be very good with the local people. For example on our way back to the school one of the moto-taxi men said hello to us in a way that was designed to entice us into accepting a lift. Had I been on my own I would have said no thanks and hurried on my way, but Tom burst into life and after an animated greeting involving hand shaking, back-slapping and much laughter all round, the two of them ended up sitting down to eat a second breakfast and share a smoke together.
Once we got back to the school Tom and I sat down at the computer to fill in his cruise check-in details and so that he could transfer the money to me. This was it. This was the last chance to back out of the whole arrangement. Once this was done me and Tom would be locked in together for good. I had some second thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t too late to try and replace this hairy, smelly man for a beautiful young woman. As sidekicks and roommates go Tom had said and done a few things that I could put in the ‘cause for concern’ category but on balance I reckoned he was actually a nice, friendly guy, and a very laid-back and easy-going one who, despite the tendency towards alcoholism and farting, would at the very least guarantee entertainment. We made our arrangements official.
That afternoon Tom and I spoke with the students for the last time and one of them asked him a question that they had never asked me.
“Why do you have a tattoo, sir?” piped up one little boy eagerly.
“It’s because I’m in a gang,” replied Mr Tom, “Everyone in the gang has the same tattoo.”
I looked once again at the skull and crossbones etched onto his neck and winced, wondering what in hell I’d gotten myself into this time.
That evening, after a last dinner with Mr Daniel, I wanted to go and visit the guys at the hotel one more time too. For reasons I don’t remember I’d accidentally mentioned to Tom that they sometimes drank a homemade beverage that I thought was probably alcoholic, though it tasted foul enough for me not to have drunk it in sufficient volume to find out. At the sound of this Tom became suddenly very keen to come with me and meet my friends at the hotel.
When we got there only a couple of guys sat watching the television and there was no sign of any beverages. But of course word soon spread of our arrival and it wasn’t long before Lohot and the other men that I had become friends with arrived. It was nice to see them again and it was a fun evening. There was no sign of any alcohol though, and Tom remained keen to find some, but I couldn’t remember the name of the drink.
“It’s something like toddy, or totty, maybe” I said.
“Toddy? Do you have any totty?” Tom asked the men, keen to make them understand.
“Otty? You want otty?” Lohot replied, “Otty, no problem.”
“Yes, yes,” Tom said eagerly.
Ten minutes later mugs of steaming liquid were placed before us.
“Otty. Ot… teee.”
We had ourselves two cups of hot tea.
It was probably for the best.
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