My fan died and the man next door brought his own and stayed

My fan died during a power cut in Pererenan on Friday night, so I knocked on the guesthouse next door to ask for a spare. The man there did not have one, so he carried his own across and sat on my balcony until the lights came back, which was two hours. We talked about surf, the price of rice and his sister in Java. That was four months ago. He still brings me a coffee whenever the power drops. I have started to wish it would drop on a weekend.