FROM THE NORM TO THE MARGIN

Too strong.

I'm amazed! I've made good progress on the Christmas plan. After long, long minutes of searching the internet, I finally found some ideas that I could do. I have to say that unlike in France where I had built up a pretty impressive stock of DIY materials, I have almost nothing and finding what you want here is not easy at all.

So what do you do when all you have is shopping bags and food deliveries, double-sided and "normal" tape, scissors and white canson sheets plus large squares. I forget a four-colour pen. I bless Youtube and DIY tutorials. Here I am, measuring, cutting, folding, taping, decorating little bags made from kraft paper shopping bags. Each day I add "Merry Christmas" in a different language (with an answer on the back because it's a bit complicated in Chinese for example). Yesterday evening when my daughter came home from school, we had to go to the nearest post office (I'll have to tell you about the adventure, it's a whole new world). I suggested that she go to the Alfamart next door to buy some surprises to put in the advent calendar. When she got to the candy aisle, she did her job as a teenager who doesn't know what to choose. We ended up, after much hesitation, with a bag of candies in the shape of a burger, pizza, ... I was tempted by chocolate coins, but I'll have to put them in just before my daughter gets up so that they don't get all melted and invaded by ants. I just have to think about it and it's not easy. I've already made the bags until the 6th of December. More than twelve ... More than isn't necessarily the right word because it takes a bit of time anyway, but I'm sticking to it. And if I say more than twelve, it's because we should normally go on holiday for the festivities, so it reduces the total number (which is good for me anyway).
Now I have to manage the background music. I'm so fond of Christmas music, but I don't have the reflex here to put it on with this sun and heat. It's the rainy season, not winter. We need to get new bearings.

Coming back to the post office, I had to send a letter abroad for my son. I have never seen a post office box in Bali. Let alone signs indicating a post office. So I turn to google maps to find a post office near us. Great, there's one within a five minute walk and there's a pavement all the way. Go! It's a good thing I'd spotted where it was before, because when we got to the front we thought it was a mistake.

Imagine a shack, hard walls, roof made of tin, glass front covered with glued papers. Fortunately a sign, with the Indonesian post office written on it, confirmed that we were in the right place. My daughter would later tell me that she wondered if we were going to be kidnapped inside. I push open the door and we find ourselves in a room three by five metres with boxes everywhere, piles of papers, a computer and a printer. A young man welcomes us with a smile (like everywhere else here. It's different from many countries). We exchange in French-Indonesian-English and after a lot of steps and a payment of 340 000 rupees (I pay without any discussion, anyway no price is indicated anywhere, as often here too) we leave all happy to have pushed back our circle of comfort. A small victory but Rome was not built in a day. Normally the mail should arrive in five days. I wait and see because in Bali time is in the fourth dimension. A letter my daughter sent me from France took three weeks to arrive! Time is very relative.

I think that's the part I have the most difficulty adapting to. Yes, I'm not the most punctual person in the world. I'm often five to ten minutes late, but not always. Here the delay can be several hours and nobody minds. 

Well, I do.