I just got back from Indonesia, after nearly two months on the road. I really enjoyed my time over there, and it showed me that travelling (especially travelling solo, with just a backpack) makes you learn a lot about yourself and about the world more broadly. Here’s a few things I took from this most recent trip. Note: I’ve very roughly translated any conversations I had in Indonesian (very rarely did I converse in English). While these aren’t 1:1 translations, they convey enough of the meaning without compromising the integrity of the story.

1. To hesitate is to lose

“There’s too much traffic up ahead [so I can’t turn around to the other side of the road], so you get out here, the train station is just across the road,” my taxi driver told me. He wasn’t wrong, it was just across the road. It’s just that the road happened to be 6 lanes of Jakarta morning traffic. Admittedly, there was a divider in the road, so I only had to cross 3 lanes at a time – and even then, most people would probably look at that as foolhardy. Yet, in Indonesia, that is just how things go. If you want to cross a road, there are usually no proper crossings. Or, as I found out on my second day in Bali, there are pedestrian crossings, with lights, which are completely ignored by drivers. If you want to cross traffic, you have to stick out your hand confidently and walk across the road, and everyone will driver around you like you’re Neo in the Matrix.

That’s what I hoped I looked like, instead I rather cautiously tried to step out into traffic, hand up, before realising that the cars were slowing just enough to give me time to make a short sprint to the divider. If you have a moment, you need to take it, otherwise you lose that moment, and there’s no telling how long it will take until the next one comes around. I think this is a good life lesson more broadly, not just for crossing traffic. We only have what is before us. You can’t really predict what will come next, other than knowing that something might come. When it does, you have to be ready to put your hand out and go. Otherwise, you lose.

2. Language goes a long way

No matter where I was, people were very impressed and grateful if I could speak Indonesian. I am not fluent by any means, but I was definitely able to carry a conversation and be understood in turn, even if sometimes I had to ask for words to be repeated or pull up Google translate. Sometimes, being able to speak the language would instantly change the vibe of a particular interaction. I have a theory that most tourists (especially Australian tourists) in Indonesia are viewed as these bogan types, and I think that is perhaps a fair assumption in Bali. Knowing the language transformed me from a dumb tourist into someone who genuinely wanted to connect with people and culture, and that gets a lot of respect. It also increases the range of experiences you can have. One of my fondest memories from the trip is a motorbike tour around Lake Toba. While my guide couldn’t really speak English, we spoke in Indonesian the whole time. I am sure I missed some information, but I still got way more out of that compared to just speaking English.

3. People are pretty similar no matter where you are

Before going to Banda Aceh, I was a little nervous. It’s the only region of Indonesia with sharia, the fundamental Islamic law. It means men and women have to cover up, only married men and women can share hotels, men and women are to dine separately, alcohol is banned, among other things. Before going, I’ll admit I had an expectation of what I would see there: something somewhat repressive, maybe heavily enforced, a population scared into doing the right thing for fear of getting lashes. The reality was far different. Really, everyone acted pretty much the same as everywhere else in Indonesia, and honestly people are not that different generally. Sure, men and women were more covered up than other parts of Indonesia and Australia (though Indonesia is quite conservative generally). Although men and women are expected to dine separately, at the cafe local to my hotel, university student boys and girls shared earphones and watched videos on a computer. Everyone was happy to see me and talk with me, and no-one seemed concerned or worried. Life was honestly pretty normal there. The thing I found which culture-shocked me the most was the call to prayer from the Mosques at each prayer time, but this was common to Java as well. Around this, life goes on – kids play football, people exercise, watch movies, keep up with World Cups, go to university and work, just like anywhere else in the world.

4. Life is pretty good in Australia

“Do you like driving?” I asked the taxi driver. He was driving me and a French family from Lake Toba to Medan, about 4-5 hours depending on traffic. “It doesn’t really matter if I like it,” he responded, “I have a family and I’ve got to work to support them”. Upon driving us to Medan, he was staying in Medan overnight, because it would be too late to drive back – so he wouldn’t even get to see his family that night. This wasn’t the only example of this – I found other people who enjoyed what they did, but had to move away from family to get jobs (which seemed to be more common in Bali, where the tourist economy drives a lot of jobs).

I suspect this “lesson” is true for many other countries too, but it bears remembering. I put “lesson” in scare quotes because I hate to call it that – it should just be something we know, not something we need to learn. But the lesson is to remind ourselves that actually, we have it pretty good. We have safe drinking water in all of our taps. We have less pollution and less traffic. We have closed sewers. We have food safety standards and a safe economy. Life, generally speaking, somewhere like Australia is pretty darn good, and I think we should appreciate that a bit more. Certainly I have found myself a lot more forgiving of traffic now that I am back, having seen how intense it can be somewhere like Indonesia.

What lessons have you learned from travelling? Let me know in the comments below.