It happens, I now realise: houses do actually split in half in the same way as one can break a chocolate bar in their fingers. How do I know? Well, I’m watching it slowly taking place at the moment here in Indonesia.
What may seem like an insignificant crack in the photo isn’t. Over the past few months, I’ve been checking this tiny fissure every few weeks. And sure enough, it’s getting longer. My guess is that this room (my base) was built in a hurry by unqualified builders who joined 2 adjacent sections: the bathroom / kitchen area and the bedroom. This ageing place has stood steady through plenty of violent equatorial storms and weathered many a flood. It’s taken a beating from the brutal tropical sun and survived near-constant humidity bordering on saturation.
All good things come to an end, of course. Maybe, as the crack grows, my days of being based in this little house constructed on swamp-like jungle delta substrate will be over. It certainly would be a pity to walk in one day and find the kitchen / toilet area lopsided as if a giant had wielded his axe right through the centre of my domicile! That might sound unbelievable, but I’m somewhat expecting it…