Now that I have had time to address all my health concerns, I am all but ready to return to Indonesia. But I am still waiting to hear from my accountant , Rajesh, and our mortgage broker about my funding request. It’s now early April and I’m wondering if I shouldn’t stretch out my stay until May and get my sinus condition sorted out once and for all. But Dewi is already impatient for my return.
She is also anxious to hear if there is any news from Rajesh and doesn’t understand why there is such a hold up. I originally told her I should know in a couple of weeks but our previous years’ financial accounts need to be completed and then submitted to the Australian Tax Office who will then issue a statement that will substantiate our income for the broker and the bank. It’s a process of multiple steps.
The style of bureaucracy that exists in Indonesia ensures that any formal application there can often get tied up for months but formal bookkeeping records and tax statements don’t factor strongly in applications for finance. Dewi has a limited attention span for small details and doesn’t like to be kept waiting. She has already spoken to the owner of the boarding house and given notice of her intention to buy. As the holy month of Ramadan is fast approaching, most government and financial institutions are clearing their in-trays and not taking on any new business, so we are not likely to have anyone swoop on the property before we can act but Dewi has committed herself to the transaction and the seller is waiting on a deposit.
I’ve told Dewi that as soon as I am confident we can secure finance, I can transfer some funds for a deposit but I’m not going to commit to spending any of my own hard-earned cash until I have some indication from our broker. It’s a stressful time for us both as she attempts to keep the seller at bay and I quietly weigh up the magnitude of risk I am undertaking.
As I await to hear from Rajesh, I fill my days catching up with good friends and family for lunch and/or dinner. I visit Josh at his bar in the newly-hip western suburbs, spend another night at my pub with a group of long-time regulars and I visit Deidre and my stepsister, Sarah, at her new hairdressing salon in one of Melbourne’s swanky bayside suburbs.
We eat Italian at a new local restaurant and I have a chance to catch up with a number of nephews and nieces, sons and daughters of Sarah and her brother Matt. Matt’s two girls are studying Indonesian at primary school. I usually only see them at Christmas so they don’t really know me that well but the fact I have a guesthouse in Indonesia and can make conversation with them in this foreign language, surprises them and makes me newly interesting.
Finally I get a call from the broker. Based on our previous two years tax returns he thinks I won’t meet the banks lending requirements. Although Penny and I have plenty of equity in our house, our businesses cashflow has been severely compromised due to covid as has our ability, on paper at least, to repay a bank loan.
It’s a bit of a blow but completely to be expected so I’m not overly disappointed. One thing I have learnt over the years in business is there will always be another opportunity. In many ways, if something is supposed to happen it will and if it doesn’t it is best viewed as a blessing in disguise. No point getting too worked up or losing too much sleep over such things.
Dewi however, does not have a track record in managing set backs and does not share my “que sera, sera” philosophy. She had her heart firmly set on having a piece of property she could call her own and she is now completely inconsolable. She also now has to deal with the humiliation of facing the seller and stepping away from the deal.
It is not until some days later that I discover she has given the vendor $1000 of her own money as a surety. And that it is considered non-refundable. I have to remind Dewi that I told her more than once that I wasn’t prepared to put any of my own money forward until I had a positive response from the broker and she was extremely unwise not to follow my lead. Still, I totally feel her pain. I tell her that maybe we just need to give it some time and then reassess, see if we can’t come up with another way to find the funds.
Now that this last task is settled, I am ready to book a flight back to Indonesia. I consider booking for a week’s time in case I have any last minute details to attend to but I am impatient to wrap things up and decide to get the earliest available flight.
I can return to Singapore with Scoot and take a connecting flight to Surabaya for about half the price it cost me to fly in from Australia. I consider flying from Singapore into Jakarta; the price is the same but the stopover is around 18 hours. Singapore to Surabaya has a two hour stopover and also gets me much closer to Lombok. I will however, need to quarantine for five days on arrival before embarking on the final leg.
Scoot is flying out of Melbourne daily but there is a flight in five days time that allows me to fly Singapore Airlines direct to Singapore, then a two hour flight with Scoot into Surabaya. That’s the flight for me.
I do have one last matter to attend to. Josh and his business partner Caleb have some exciting expansion plans for their business in the coming year and they want to meet with Penny and I to discuss.
Penny and I funded Josh and Caleb’s first bar venture together and each of us now holds a 25% stake. The business has been wildly successful since it began and has grown from being a bar and beer garden on the upstairs level of a two-storey concrete warehouse to housing a large take-away craft beer, wine and spirits outlet down below, with an online order and delivery service. The takeaway side of the business was slow to take off but with all bars in Melbourne closed due to the pandemic and Melburnians forced to entertain themselves at home, the takeaway and online arms of the business have roared into life.
In a few short years they have built up a very successful business and have a made made a very good name for themselves. As they hand pick a lot of their products, they have also made some very good contacts with their suppliers both here and overseas and are now looking to start producing their own line of artisinal gins and vodkas and also to start importing beer, wines and spirits for wholesale and in-house release.
It’s an ambitious plan but one that builds on their formidable strengths and I have no doubt they will be highly successful. But I also have something I would like to discuss.
If I am going to continue living in Indonesia for and extended period, as seems likely, my Australian tax resident status is likely to change, resulting in me paying a lot more tax on my Australian income. While the pandemic is making it extremely difficult to return home I am likely to be given an exemption but Rajesh has advised it’s something I am going to need to start planning for sooner rather than later.
So while I support their plans and am excited for the future, this is as good a time as any to consider selling my share of the business.
Josh and Caleb clearly weren’t expecting to hear this, though Penny is already well aware of my situation. Still, I go on to explain that I would only consider selling if it was something that suited them and that ideally, my preference would be to sell my share to them. We agree that the best way forward will be to go away and have a think about it and for them to discuss it amongst themselves.
Now that I have addressed everything that can be attended to, I spend a final night with Graeme and Kiyoe. Life has gotten back to normal in their apartment with Emma, Jason and Telishea all safely back in Adelaide.
I return to Melbourne the following day and Tom drives me to the airport. We’ve both really enjoyed the time we were able to spend together and we give each other a big hug as we say farewell.
There is quite along queue at the airport check in counter, something I am unaccustomed to in these days of pandemic travel.
As I move closer to the front of the queue however, I start to get nervous. My cabin baggage is roughly double the 7kg weight allowance and I notice they are weighing each passengers hand luggage. I have at least 5kg of chocolate to take home to my Indonesian family and the last thing I want is to be forced to leave it behind.
My check in attendant is an older woman and she asks for my documentation. She checks my visa and asks to see my travel exemption, which is required by most people leaving the country. I tell her I am not required to obtain an exemption as I’ve been resident in a foreign country for all of the past twelve months. She insists that everyone leaving the country requires an exemption and I insist, politely, that in my case, I do not.
Fortunately a front desk manager is sitting alongside her who either knows something of what Im talking about, or decides to follow up in any case with Border Patrol officials, who I understand, simply need to check my travel history in order to clear me to travel.
I have checked this information many times online and I hope I haven’t misread or overlooked any detail that will prevent me from leaving the country.
The attendant is trying to appear poised and in control but I can see she is looking a little flustered.
“So, you’ve already spoken to Border Patrol, have you?”
“No,” I reply. “It’s all on the Department of Home Affairs website.”
Sure enough, the manager returns and I’m cleared to travel.
The attendant prints my tickets and, conveniently for me, forgets to weigh my hand luggage.
A bar is open beside the departure gate and I enjoy a couple of glasses of red wine prior to boarding.
I take a photo of the wine glass on the table with my luggage and hat. I’m tempted to post it to my Instagram account but decide against it. Australia’s international borders have been closed for over twelve months now and there is no indication they will reopen anytime soon. I am well aware that I am one of the lucky few on the planet, let alone within Australia, that is able to fly in and out of the country pretty much as I please. I don’t want my friends to think I’m trying to rub it in.
My check-in attendant is manning the first class boarding gate and, as there is a long queue for economy and no-one entering via her station, I stroll over.
“Are you only taking first class tickets?” I enquire.
“No, no. You can board through here.”
“Why, thank you.”
I’ve been in Australia nearly three months. I’ve seen my mum through her final weeks, stared down a number potentially serious health risks, updated my will, moved to simplify my Australian business interests and shore up my Australian income and spent some quality time with my two boys.
Life doesn’t ever seem to get any simpler but I think I have all my affairs in order.
Now I can return to my life in Indonesia and our empty guesthouse and continue to sit out this stupid pandemic.