Nooks and crannies

I’ve been really touched by a gift from a fellow inmate — an ashtray, but no ordinary receptacle for cigarette ends.

It was made for me by Pavel Kruikov, a Russian doing 18 months for robbing a money changer on the Bukit last year.

The 36-year-old was running out of money with a week to go of his Bali holiday. He entered the shop with his last $100 to change into rupiah and when the woman behind the counter was distracted, snatched a pile of money from her desk and made a run for it.

Kruikov hadn’t counted on the determination of the Ibu not to be robbed, and when she caught him at the door, he shoved her aside and she fell.

He sprinted down the pavement with her cries for help following close behind, but was swiftly caught. In true Indonesian style, he was given a thorough (and deserved) beating by locals before police rescued him and put him under arrest.

“It was crazy. I don’t know what I was thinking,” the Muscovite says. “I’ve never stolen before, but it was just there. I just grabbed it and ran. I didn’t have a scheme, just stupid.”

Kruikov’s haul was just 28 million rupiah (around $2,100) and for that prosecutors demanded a two year sentence, which was reduced by the judges to 18 months.

Too embarrassed to tell friends or relatives back home of his plight, Kruikov has given them the impression he is working in Bali through regular WhatsApp calls.

“Only one very good friend knows what happened,” he says. “My family think I have a job and I’m working.”

Technically he isn’t lying.

Kruikov was a master carpenter back home — albeit an unemployed one — and his skills are in great demand in Kerobokan.

Using tools he has made largely by hand, Kruikov has been working his way through the entire block, remodeling the cells with bunk beds that make far more efficient use of the space.

He refuses to be rushed, and instead of using a hammer and nails, makes intricate joints that piece together seamlessly.

Best of all, in everything he designs he incorporates secret cubby holes and hiding places for inmates to stash their contraband.

Such is his skill that in the year he has been here, no raid has ever discovered one of his nooks or crannies.

People can’t afford to pay much for what would cost hundreds of dollars on the outside, so since I’ve been here I’ve been helping him out with food whenever I have something to spare.

This week he rather shyly presented me with a thank you gift, and souvenir to take away from Kerobokan.

The ashtray is beautifully finished and has my name carved in the side — with a Philipps screw providing a “jeweled” touch, but the best thing is that it has a secret compartment that perfectly hides my phone.

You can hold it in your hand and stare at it for hours, but I would bet that unless you knew its secret, you’d think it was an ordinary ashtray.

Kruikov’s personality and industry have made him a popular inmate and he has already landed himself a job when he is released later this year.

An Italian inmate, inside for trafficking, belongs to a family that build kitchens and Kruikov has been promised a job in Milan on his release.

“The standard of his work is better than any of our craftsmen in Italy,” said Danny, who is effectively his manager in Kerobokan and no mean carpenter himself.

By day the pair is kept busy renovating the block, while by night Danny teaches Kruikov Italian so he’ll be up and running as soon as he is released.

“I couldn’t find a job in Russia, so I am happy I will be able to work in Italy,” he says.

“It was crazy what I did, but now things have become better. Life is strange sometimes.”