It was 8.20 am. Music by Philip Glass was being played very loudly through speakers attached to a laptop computer. I was sat in just my boxer shorts in the front room of my new house in Cirebon, working on my lesson plans for school. I was disturbed by the sound of loud noises from outside. I turned down the music, wondering if the neighbours were objecting to my taste in music. Then I twitched back the net curtains and looked out of my front window. Standing outside my house was a little woman who was shaking the locked gate. So, I walked to my bedroom and got dressed. When I finally emerged from the house, the woman at the gate was holding up a piece of paper which had the words, “I work here”, written
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