Indonesian Education

I had failed to do my homework. Visa free travel to Indonesia was only possible through nine ports and airports. My route was not amongst these. I would have to pay $35 for a visa. However I had no dollars, and no way of getting dollars late on a Sunday afternoon. A website said the port would accept credit and debit cards. It didn't. I ended up stranded at the immigration desk at the Sumatran port of Dumai.
A local "fixer" said he could take me to a cash machine. Leaving everything behind I rode into Indonesia on the back of  his moped with no passport, visa or money. I don't think they would let people do that at Dover. I tried to figure out what side of the road moped man was riding on, it turned out he was riding in the shade.
After sorting out my visa predicament the fixer said his brother (actually - no relation) was an english teacher and could put me up for the night. In return I would teach Englush to his classes. It was great, we played games like hangman and "Who am I?" Even bright Indonesian teenagers did not know what / who the pope was , or who Usain Bolt is.
Incidently, teachers in Indonesia wear uniform. They have three different uniforms for different days of the week (including Saturday, but small children only do 7 - 11 each day). The end of the school day is a good time to be riding, as hordes of pupils shout "Hello mister" and smile with genuine warmth when they get a response.
Talking of warmth, it is sweltering in Sumatra, it is 30 degrees plus with humidity of about 90%. The mountainous route through the west of the island was out of the question on a heavy touring bike, I picked what looked on the map to be a flat road. It actually continually rolled over foothills for almost 500km. It was completly untouristy, there wasn't a sign when I crossed the equatior, locals stared at me for so long they almost crashed, there weren't any hotels, I stayed in cafes and a police station (normal travelling etiquette in these parts).
I was relieved to reach the city of Jambi where I could rest in a hotel. It is raining, so I am still in the hotel, sheltering from both the downpours and the incessant greetings of the locals "Hello meester, how are you?"I could tell them "I'm tired and need a rest." but they wouldn't understand.
I am half a year and half a world away.

You may recognise the teacher

Beautiful jungle in the Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

Sunnset over the Melaka Strait - separating Malaysia from Sumatra

Rolling road through the palm oil plantations of Sumatra