being a teacher in crazy beautiful Indonesia

Technically speaking I wasn't even allowed to teach in Indonesia because they have a law that says you must be at least 25 years old and I was 23 at the time, but one of the advantages to a country that is openly corruption ridden is that with a little money in the right pocket you can do just about anything. (Seriously, we even managed to bribe our way in to the National Football Stadium to score a goal as a part of a challenge through our school, I also rode on the back of a police motorcycle without a helmet through downtown Jakarta for the same reason). So my being 2 years junior to the offical limit was a non-issue.

I had no idea what I was getting in to but I prepared myself for the worst. My figuring is that if you arrive thinking everything is going to go smoothly then you will be sorely disappointed no matter where you are, however, if you arrive assuming that you will be robbed, left hungry and stuck in a hut then you will be very grateful for anything better than that.

So when I was told that my shared accomodation would have airconditioning, I pictured a rusty old fan, when I was told I would have my own room I pictured paper dividers set up between straw mats layed out on the floor, and when I asked if I would be met at the airport and received this reply from the company I was going to work for "I'll be teaching classes, so you will be met at the airport by Mo, one of the teachers. He's unique, not at all typical of an EF teacher, so don't be put off by his outrageous behaviour", I assumed they weren't taking the piss but rather sending a crazy person to pick me up.


Luckily, everything was better than anticipated. Mo, turned out not to be a deranged psychopath. I did in fact have a room of my own (it even had a lock on the door, however the only window faced in to the kitchen instead of the more traditional 'view of the outside') which came equipped with a real working airconditioner. So for all intents and purposes I was in fact going to be living in a house. A house which I could theoretically lock said psychopaths out of.

This was by no means 5 star accomodation, we had everything from rats to floods. When you pulled open the cutlery drawer you literally had to wait for the cockroaches to run to the back before you could pull out utensils, toilet paper was unflushable, hot water was non-existant, mold was rampant and leaks were an everyday issue during rainy season (which lasts half the year), there was a time when our water pump was broken and we had to use the water that was leaking through our roof to flush our toilets. And as far as Indonesian standards went, we were living well.


Living in Indo is not for the faint of heart. If you want comfortable accommodation you need to either work for an Internationl School or pick a different country.


I was working for a franchise called EF English First and was based in Central Jakarta, unlike working at an international school or even a regular school for that matter, we were simply a language school, meaning we were essentially an after school activity for kids or an after work learning centre for adults. So instead of waking up at a normal time and having a 9-5, our classes started around 2 or 3pm which meant we didn't go in to the office until around 12 to do lesson planning and you didn't finish until around 9pm. The result being that we wouldn't usually have dinner until after work (classes tended to be back to back with not enough time between for a meal) or go to bed until around 2am, which meant waking up late - usually around 10 or 11am. It was a bizarre system, but it worked.


Indonesia may not have been easy, but what it lacked in organization it made up for in adventure and friendliness.

Indonesians are hands down some of the nicest people in the world. No matter where I was people were forever trying to help me get where I was going (even if their directions were wrong) or just smiling and calling 'Hey Mister' (not offensively, more as a slight misunderstanding of the definition of mister). Of course by the end of the year I definitely craved walking down the street anonymously, but in saying that, I now miss being told I look beautiful by random strangers even when I looked my worst, can't have it all I suppose.

Beauty wasn't the only thing on their mind, Indonesians have a habit of asking very personal questions. When teaching a Business English class once, I asked my students to work together to create a list of 20 appropriate questions they could ask a foreign business partner. Here's a small sample from their uncomfortable answers:

What is your religion?
How old are you?
Are you single?
What is your address?

They were honestly shocked when I told them that none of those questions would be deemed appropriate by their foreign counterpart and that some may even consider them to be rude. Indonesians are just very open people and by showing interest in your life they are showing an interest in you, they really do want to hear your answer and they were very surprised to find that you may not want to answer at all.

Religion is a big deal in Indonesia, everyone is something. It's even printed on their ID cards (they are given six religions to choose from: Islam, Christianity, Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and most recently Confucianism - which I'll be honest, I had to google) The interesting thing is that there didn't appear to be any strife between the religions, or even any resentment towards me for not being religious. I was constantly asked about my religion and when I answered that I wasn't religious, they would just nod their head and smile, no one tried to convert me or ostracize me, I was just accepted, which is a lot more than I can say for most countries. Hillary Clinton even commented once that 'If you want to see democracy, Islam, modernity, and women’s rights coexisting in one place, then come to Indonesia. Because I believe this place is more about the future than many other places in the world'.
And if the wonderful people weren't enough to win you over, surely the tropical landscape (from unexplored rainforests to active volcanos), diverse cultures (there are around 300 native ethnicities in Indonesia with 742 different languages and dialects) and food (think creamy peanut sate, spicy fried rice and fresh fruit - all being sold for less than $1 on the street) would.

I absolutely adored my time in Indonesia, it was a struggle for sure, what with over population, some of the most intense traffic I have ever witnessed and a thick layer of pollution blanketing the cities. But I also climbed two active volcanoes, took weekend trips to tropical islands (that costs me less than $100US including my flights, hotels and food), ate a massive amount of delicious street food, tasted Kopi Luwak (the most expensive coffee in the world because it is literally pooped out by a cat), planted rice in a rice padi and met amazing people whom I will never forget. So was it worth it? What do you think.



(Photos top to bottom: with some of the children out at Himmata Orphanage & School for Street Children where I volunteered as a teacher on Sundays, Puppets for sale in Jogjakarta, with one of our hosts during a homestay program in Cianjur where we learnt how to plant rice and visited a floating village, Gili Trawangan, and last but not least, spending Christmas with my friends Tiara & Fika's family)