Anyone who’s been to Vietnam knows the
roads are bedlam. Millions of motorbikes
dashing around in all directions. Road safety?
It’s unheard of. A family of four, their dog and
a wardrobe wedged onto one bike is a normal
sight. For the fi rst few days I thought shit,
what have I let myself in for? But the chaos
somehow works. Within three weeks, and
to the dismay of my mother, I was amongst
the tooting bustle of drivers. Th e diff erence
in horn-honking etiquette in the east and
west still amuses me. In Asia it’s mostly a
non-aggressive way of saying, ‘Oi! Just so you
know I’m right behind/in front/beside you.’
Whereas here, it’s an act of sheer road rage;
a way of hurling an imaginary middle fi nger
at someone (often accompanied by an actual
middle fi nger).
I was teaching my fi rst class the day after
arriving. I was excited, but also terrifi ed. A
Vietnamese teacher called Ms Vy picked me
up at 5.30am on her motorbike. It was a day
of fi rsts because I’d never been on the back of a
96
bike before. I clung
onto her waist for
dear life as she
zigzagged through
the traffi c; not the
usual
commute
that’s for sure!
As we walked
through the gates the children ran towards us
shouting, ‘Hello, teacher!’ We must’ve set the
world record for high-fi ves because
within fi ve minutes I’d basically
high-fi ved the whole school. Th e
bell rang and it was time to face
the music, or in this case forty very
energetic children sat waiting for
the lesson to start. I was convinced
they knew it was my very fi rst
lesson. Ms Vy was there to observe
and assist if needs be, but it went
surprisingly well, and she gave some
really helpful feedback. I was so
sweaty after all the singing and dancing, but I
felt a huge sense of relief. Most importantly, I
couldn’t wait to teach again. To this day, ‘Baby
Shark’ and the ‘Gummy Bear Song’ still echo
in my mind.
Th at one-way ticket turned into seven
months of living in Vietnam and six months
travelling around Asia. I then came home
for a year to save up for another six-month
trip, and now I’m on a working holiday visa
in Australia. Th ey do say once you catch the
travel bug that’s it!
Saving up to quit your job and travel
requires commitment, weekends in and less
spending on things in general. But it’s also a
huge privilege to even have the opportunity,
and it’s one I’m very grateful for. Th ere are
loads of ways to travel on the cheap if you’re
not in a fi nancial position to gallivant around
the world for months without working. Look
into working holiday visas in
Australia, Canada and New
Zealand. Seasonal work is
also popular. A few of my
friends worked in bars and
housekeeping at ski resorts
and had a blast. Volunteering
is another option, and
a great website to use is
www.workaway.info. It has
thousands of hosts across
the world looking for all
sorts of help with projects including eco
retreats, schools, wildlife conservations and
permaculture.
I’ve met some incredible people and
experienced some amazing things on my
travels, but it isn’t always as glamorous as
Instagram portrays. Th e photos shared in
those little boxes don’t show the tears, the
homesickness, and the situations that stretch
your character and put your limits to the test.
"Th at one
way-ticket
turned into
seven months
of living in
Vietnam."