Where Old Backpackers Go To Die

Blog has moved to http://backpackingteacher.wordpress.com

2008-10-11T19:03:00.005+11:00

Have decided to move this blog over to wordpress and, whilst I'm at it, change the name to reflect me ... a teacher and old backpacker.

The name of my new blog is BackpackingTeacher and can be found at http://backpackingteacher.wordpress.com

Photo used under creative commons licence: http://www.flickr.com/photos/eggplant/6102204/

Want to teach internationally?

2008-10-11T13:08:00.009+11:00

Want to teach overseas but not quite sure how to go about it? Thought I'd take the time out to post some tips on how you can go about this seeing as I've just been through the process myself. Please note that this post is a little Australian centric as that's where I'm from. Many of the sites though are international recruitment sites though. Also take into account that although I've done a lot of research and spoken to many people who have worked overseas this will be my first overseas teaching position (although not my first overseas job). Thus much of what I say may be wide of the mark - hopefully though it provides some relevant info.

Firstly let me start by saying that this is about teaching overseas for qualified primary and secondary (high school) teachers. This is not about teaching English in English language schools. For information on teaching in English language schools see Dave's ESL Cafe.

Finding the jobs

It seems that most schools want teachers who have some experience in teaching in their home countries. They usually express this as a minimum of 2 or 3 years experience. Some schools will take NQT's (Newly Qualified Teachers) but they seem to be schools desperate to find staff or that pay substantially lower wages. Nonetheless I'm assuming they can be a good place to gain experience.

In trying to find an overseas job there are two main avenues. Going through a recruiter or going direct. I have been to interviews in Australia with both Teacher Recruitment International and Search Associates. Of the two TRI come across as much more personal and friendly. They also seem to be more focused on your particular needs. That said Search Associates seem professional and are much larger and have much larger recruitment fairs (get to those in a second). Search Associates are also more expensive by a few hundred dollars.

While I met with both of those companies (and may still join both of them in the future) I found my position through plain old slogging on the internet. A google search of your particular subject area and limited to posting within the last couple of weeks will often find many positions posted on schools websites.

There are also a number of sites that will post positions available for overseas teaching posts. The three key ones are;

Aussie teachers might also like to try this website that lists many independent/catholic/private school jobs as well as a few overseas jobs teachers.on.net

Pay and Salary Packages

How long is a piece of string? The pay seems to range from almost nothing (a school I spoke to in the Philippines was offering USD$800 a month) to a very few positions offering perhaps USD$5,000 a month (Hong Kong, I think).

Overall South America and Africa seem to pay quite poorly. The Middle East pays better (range seems to be about USD$2,000 to USD$3,000 a month) but cost of living is increasing from what teachers on the various forums say. Asia varies but seems to be in the USD$2,000 to USD$3,000 a month range with cost of living varying depending on which Asian country you're looking at. Europe decent salaries but cost of living is high and thus not a lot of money is left for saving.

The key however is not the salary. What you need to look at is;

Do you pay tax or does your school pay tax for you - in a lot of packages the tax is paid for you and this often means your take home pay is substantially higher.
Are you offered accommodation or given an allowance sufficient to give you decent accommodation. If not then this should ring alarm bells.
Is medical insurance included? If not steer clear.
Do you have paid flights home for you and your dependents at the beginning and end of your contract (usually 2 years contracts). Most of the better schools will give you flights home every year.
If you have children then schooling should be provided free (note that having more than 2-3 kids can sometimes be a disincentive when schools hire).
Will the school handle all your visa costs and paperwork (if not steer clear)
Do you have any additional benefits eg. gym memberships.

A decent package leaves you with enough money to travel in the region you're living and put away some money (or, as in my case, pay for the mortgage back home).

A salary of $5,000 in Hong Kong that is not tax free and does not include accommodation may not go as far as a $2,000 salary in Indonesia that is tax free and includes accommodation. A good way to work this all out is to calculate how much you have left every month where you live right now and then calculate how much money you would have left if the country you're being offered a position in.

So when do they recruit?

Most International schools work on the Northern Hemisphere school year. They have a short two week break at Christmas and then a 6-8 week break in July/August or June/July. In addition they have a few extra weeks throughout the year. Holidays roughly work out the same as in Australia at between 12-14 weeks. The benefit for Aussies of course is that the middle of the year break is a nice long time to do travelling in the region you're based in.

The school year starting in July means that most schools start to check with current staff in and around December as to whether they're staying or going. The schools will then post positions on their websites at this time and in January/February. However the main recruitment drive seems to be through recruitment fairs (I have not attended one of these so I am going on information given to me).

In Australia both Search Associates and TRI have their fairs in early January. At these fairs International schools will interview candidates and may make offers at this time or after they have attended other recruitment fairs in the world (London and Bangkok recruitment fairs seems to be the main ones).

Schools will also post positions that become vacant throughout the year on their websites. This may be a good time to pick up a position as most other international teachers are locked into contracts until June and thus the pool of candidates looking for jobs is likely to be lower.

This post is getting a little long winded now. Time to wrap up. The only way to get a job is to keep looking and then apply when you see something that interests you. I've got a job in Saigon and that's what I was particularly looking for but in the process I saw many other positions being advertised. I would refer to the websites listed above on a weekly basis to check for positions becoming available. If you don't look constantly and apply instantly you're going to be out of luck.

Photo used under creative commons licence: http://www.flickr.com/photos/26463360@N00/55887564

Saigon: Job Interview

2008-10-11T12:39:00.006+11:00

Saigon or is that Sai Gon or even Ho Chi Minh City. It's all a little confusing. I'm going with Saigon though. Actually I'm not so much going with Saigon as going to Saigon.

I've just accepted an 18 month contract to go teach Business Studies in Saigon and I'm excited. It's been a whirlwind of a week. My interview was early this week. Stupidly I'd suggested 3pm as an interview time so I spent the whole day being nervous waiting on the call. It did give me time to do more research. I think I read every relevant forum post on every possible expat website in Vietnam. I also spent hours trawling the TES forums ( a great site for people thinking of teaching overseas) to find out all I could about working in Saigon and about the school I was interviewing for.

So 3pm rocks round and I've got my list of questions ready. The Principal interviewing is friendly and easy going and even though the line is bad the interview goes ok. I'm not entirely sure I've scored a goal though as telephone interviews make it hard to build any rapport or show any of your personality.

Later that day I get an email back, not quite offering me the position, but talking about the salary package. We exchange emails a few time discussing salary expectations and I'm finally made an offer! I'm excited but now I'm also scared. I have two days in which to accept.

I spend those days talking to family and friends, weighing up my options. The problem is I'm really happy here in Sydney. I work at a great school, have fantastic colleagues, I've moved into a new apartment, have great friends and am all round really enjoying life. Finally I decide that the opportunity is too good to pass up. The chance of living in another country again is too exciting an adventure.

I print out the school's contracts, sign them and email them to the Principal letting him know I've accepted the offer.

The die has been cast. The Rubicon crossed. I'm going to Saigon in January.

Photo used under creative commons licence: http://www.flickr.com/photos/11401580@N03/2678647213/

Maximon's Altar

2008-07-18T11:26:00.003+10:00

A number of years back I was travelling through Guatemala and came across this church full of activity. It happened to be a church worshiping Maximon a saint combining Catholic rituals that I recognised and Mayan rituals that I didn't. Whilst reading a website the other day I noticed a mention of Maximon and that prompted me to dig up my old notes .... these are my (brief) recollections of Maximon.

Burning candles, black, red, yellow, blues, white and green. For envy and money. Luck, travel and enemies.

Self flagellating supplicants before the altar of the greybearded cigar smoker. Prayers from the ranks rising through teeth clenched 'round broomstick thick cigars. Priestess in kitchen woman's apron spits strong spirit upon the altar.

The air is thick with burning wax smoke. The walls dotted with plaques thanking San Simon for services rendered. The faithful pray to themselves with serious intent. A woman before the entrance lights many a red candle, perhaps she thinks about St Valentines tomorrow. A curious juxtaposition between religions.

Cloyingly thick and burning black,the smoke and bright flames of clumped together candles soon force the curious away. Outside men sweep up the ashes of another burning, placing them ever so gently upon leaves and a bed of flowers lining an ages old dented 'barrow.

A man on the steps to the church, in pirate red scarf, berates, pleads and gesticulates at a half burning, half smouldering pile of black candles. He turns to poke angrily at the mass before him and in doing so spies a young gaily dressed child to whom he smiles and waves.

Image of Maximon: Used under Creative Commons Licence courtesy of http://www.eveandersson.com/photos/photo-display?photo_path=%2Fphotos%2Fguatemala%2Fatitlan%2Fsantiago%2Fmaximon&photo_size=large

Coogee Beach - or a winter's morning in Sydney with yummy mummies and world youth day pilgrims

2008-07-15T14:50:00.005+10:00

Went down to the beach this morning and thought I'd post some of my notes. I did think about tidying them up but decided instead to go with the stream of consciousness style they were written in ....

Coogee beach, sun shiny, kids chasing birds chasing food, flights every few minutes on the exact same route from corner just above cliffs, bikini clad girls and those in ski jackets - this is Sydney winter,

world youth day pilgrims here to see dead bodies in coffins walk past with gaily coloured backpacks, nations flags and joie d'vivre, yummy mummies talk over coffee whilst kids frolic, greenday my soundtrack for today,

frisbee, afl , soccer and rugby the beach games, swimmer in cap seemingly going slowly from south to north when suddenly I look up and he/she has moved from the father playing catch to the teen girls trying to catch a tan, a sail moves across the distant horizon, a trendy Sydneysider in de rigeur Palestinian kafiyya walks by while overhead another plane zooms by,

a kid chases a bird on the same plane as the aeroplane, boats pulled up to northern shore their purpose unclear, the pilgrims walk by shoes in hands, trousers rolled they've dipped their toes in today's holy font, the sun is warming and seeps into my demeanour I smile even though my coffee's gone cold

Worst thing that's happened to you whilst travelling?

2008-01-23T12:44:00.000+11:00

Gadling recently had a post in which they discussed author Chuck Thompson's new book Smile While You're Lying. As part of their post they invited people to write in with tales of the worst things that had happened to them whilst travelling. Like most travellers I've had a few things happen to me on my travels so I though I'd post one of my horror stories. Technically I wasn't travelling but was actually working in Indonesia, in any case I think that the story holds up. What tempted me to write in was that they were offering 5 free books to the best "worst thing thats happened to you" travel stories.
Today I received an email saying I've won the book. So I've decided to repost my exact post from that site here. The details are mostly true although I will admit to being slightly hazy about the actual timing of the events. They're close enought to accurate anyway.

Lets see ...the time I got pulled over at gun point travelling in the back of a strangers car whilst crossing the Guatemalan border into Honduras ... nope

The time I walked through the flooded streets of Calcutta and a rat thought I was an escape raft ... nope

How about the time I worked in Indonesia managing a remote resort .. ah yes ..that one

I managed this remote resort on the island of Java. The country was in upheaval, students had recently been shot on the streets of Jakarta and my security manager came into see me.

"Pak", he says. "Bad news. The local people they not like the resort making money on their land. They coming tomorrow to burn it down".

"ok", says I, attempting to be calm. "time to put our contingency plans into gear". Thinking all along how absurd it was that I had contingency plans, for rioting villagers, ready to go.

12 hours later our guests had been relocated along with non emergency personnel

18 hours later the local military had set up barbed wire outside the resort entrance. Their Sergeant was setting their lines of fire. This was most definitely not part of the contingency plan which consisted mostly of getting the hell out of there just after our guests had buggered off.

18 hours and 2 minutes later I was furiously trying to find a solution and panicking at the sight of armed men playing with their weapons.

20 hours later the owners of the resort finally send a delegation down from Jakarta.

22 hours later the Jakarta delegation pays off the local Kepala Desa (Village Headman) and he persuades his villagers we're good people after all.

2 days later I visit the village with food and gifts. They invite me in for lunch. Nice people..I should go back some time.

No Nile Crocodile And A Half Pace Bob Marley

2008-01-05T15:35:00.000+11:00

Just before I head off to Malaysia to get my fill of Kopi-Peng, Char Kway Teow and Martabak Manis I thought I'd leave you with these memories of my sailing down the Nile on a Felucca.

It wasn't until after I had jumped into the Nile that I remembered it's famed crocodiles. Never mind, I thought, if I've survived the papyrus sellers of Cairo's Khan el-Khalili market then I can surely survive a crocodile attack or two.

I dove under the Felucca and broke through the water on the other side, the sun glancing sharply off the water. Momentarily blinded I slowed to wipe my eyes and spotted a crocodile. OK. I didn't spot a crocodile in fact the only crocs I came across in Egypt were on feet or stuffed in museums or stuffed on feet trudging around museums. Or, as in this case, where the croc I saw was being wielded by the Nubian captain of our Felucca who, waving it in his hands was clearly using it to remonstrate with a tape player. What he expected the croc (a bright orange one I might add) to do I'm not sure but what he wanted was what he'd wanted for the last two days of our sailing. He wanted Bob Marley to stop singing at half speed. Now, I know, the sound of Bob singing as if he's stoned has a certain synchronicity about it but being advised at mournfully low speed that "no woman, no cry" is more likely to lead to crying than not. I sympathised with our captain and would have gone to his aid and remonstrated alongside him using my own, far less colourful, sandal but I was enjoying the moment much too much.

Behind the croc waving Nubian stood a proudly decaying pillar and wall. A wall and pillar shining that golden colour that all ruins along the Nile seem to have. Etched deeply into the wall were Hieroglyphs although all I could make out was the occasional cartouche. To the right of the building and by the water's edge sat an Egyptian woman washing. Behind me a small row boat made it's way across the river. Two schoolboys in white shirts and ties sat in the stern as the boatman rowed away. I wondered if he asked them to move down to the back of the boat as they entered and, if we examined the underside of the seats upon which they sat, we would find stubborn lumps of old chewing gum.

"Won't you help to sing, these songs of freedom", came bubbling across the water. The orange croc had apparently worked and Bob was now advising me to "free our minds" at a mostly normal speed. I'm not sure I needed the advice at that exact moment as I drank in all I saw around me. The Nile around me, the smiling Nubian captain, croc still in hand, sharp sunlight, the engineless Felucca, walls that spoke of ancient glories, schoolchildren in a little row boat and Bob. Somehow it all worked to, for those few minutes at least, emancipate myself from mental slavery.

Vietnamese Coffeee or how to really take a good photograph and blog about it

2008-01-03T13:55:00.000+11:00

If you'd like a bit more information on authentic vietnamese coffee (and great photography) you should have a look at this blog post by Eating Asia. I've been lurking around her blog for ages now, thoroughly admiring her photography. This particular post on Vietnamese coffee makes me want to get on a plane and fly to Vietnam. Instead I'll just have to wait until I get to Malaysia where I can order a Kopi-Peng which is made in a similar manner to the Vietnamese iced coffee (Cafe Sua Da).

The above photograph is one of Eating Asia's and her entire article and other great photographs can be viewed at http://eatingasia.typepad.com/eatingasia/2007/11/black-gold.html

Weasel Coffee & Beef Pho: Does that little animal really regurgitate the coffee beans?

2008-01-02T15:21:00.000+11:00

My breakfast this morning consisted of this bowl of extremely fresh and tasty Beef Pho and a cup of Iced Coffee at G-Pho in Maroubra, Sydney. Not just any coffee mind you but Weasel Coffee.

The idea behind Weasel Coffee is that it is a coffee bean that has been eaten by a Weasel. The Weasel then naturally regurgitates the bean by which time the enzymes in it's digestive tract (still with me) have caused the coffee bean to subtly alter flavour. These beans are then roasted as normal. The resulting brew is strong (like a good Robusta) but leaves none of the bitter after taste. Indeed when you first smell and taste the coffee it almost has a sense of mocha about it. By far the best Iced Coffee I've had in Sydney, perhaps anywhere.

OK. Here's my conceit. It's not actually real Weasel Coffee. Which I would still have had except that most of the Weasel Coffee (which comes from Vietnam) is now made without having to wait for cute little animals to regurgitate. Nonetheless the coffee was superb and that's the point.

The Beef Pho was equally delicious and the shop that serves these two dishes, G-Pho, is rapidly becoming a favourite of mine. If you're interested this is their website. It doesn't have anything beyond a home page but the address is there.

The photos above don't do either the coffee or the pho justice but I only had my iphone and the photos the thing takes are not fantastic and nor (looking at where the light is coming from on those photos) are my photography skills.

The Journey I'd Love to Do: Silk Route By Rail

2007-12-30T19:05:00.000+11:00

Back in the late 90's I took the Trans Manchurian from Beijing through to Moscow in the middle of winter. The world was surreal in it's white starkness, like picture postcards come Christmas time. Outside on the stations amongst the fishmongers, bag ladies with fresh bread and milk, the air was so cold it felt brittle. My thermometer, which measured -20 Centigrade refused, like a reluctant teenager, to budge from its little cocoon to tell me the real temperature. Suffice to say it was cold and I was not going to risk having a quick open air pee.

I loved that particular journey. The five days passed quickly and I was never bored, not even for a second. It was as if I had entered another world where everything slowed down. I could watch the white snow capped houses and trees whizzing by for hours. Almost zen like I lulled myself through Siberia.

A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to redo the trip only this time in Summer. It did not disappoint. While the scenery was different and my train companions more affluent I fell into the same dreamlike state. Something like the Matrix's "bullet time" everything slows down but seems hyper real.

Ever since then I've wanted to do similar sorts of train trips. I've toyed with the idea of taking the train through Mexico's Copper Canyon and I've taken the train from Singapore up to Bangkok but the journey I really want to do runs through Central Asia. I've been lucky enough to see Kashgar and Urumqi in Western China but what I'd love to see are the almost mythical cities of Samarkand and Bukhara. What better way to see them than by train. A train that runs all the way from Hong Kong to Moscow but rather than running through Siberia it runs right through the heart of Central Asia. These dreams lead me to John Armitstead's site http://www.johndarm.clara.net/silkroute/intro.html.

John's journey is one I'd like to take. For now though I've just put it into my "travel I like to dream about" book ..... do you have one of those books?

Noticed a few people reading this post are coming here looking for information on the Trans-Siberian. If you wish to read another account of travel on the train have a look at Jon Evan's (the Backpacker Thriller author) post here http://rezendi.com/blog/2006/09/second-person-siberian.html

Image: Courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/theroadisthegoal used under Creative Commons Licence

mmm this'll curtail the holiday money

2007-12-18T17:58:00.000+11:00

A lovely photo of the ice from heaven (not quite mana from heaven) that left my car looking like a golf ball. Lucky I have it insured otherwise that'd be my Malaysian trip done and dusted.

This was another post from my iphone (except for this bit in italics added later). I'm trying to get it right so I can take pictures and post from the road whilst in Malaysia. When I say road I actually mean a decent hotel. Old backpackers don't die in hostels, we die in 4 star hotels and resorts whilst reminiscing about how the old hostels had a much better ambience.

Anyhow, the iphone post works ok (see here for details on mobile blogging http://www.blogger.com/mobile-start.g ) however it does seem to put the formatting out a bit. Not a major problem in short posts but longer posts would be more uncomfortable to read.

My next port of call: Malaysia

2007-12-18T17:28:00.000+11:00

My first real backpacking experience was in Singapore and Malaysia
almost 20 years ago. Since then I've returned to the area on numerous
occasions. This was convenient as I worked in nearby Indonesia. It has
always remained one of my favourite travel destinations.

Why? You may ask? Simply put .. it's the friendly people and the
delicious food. I love a good beef rendang, roti parata or a Laksa.

Now I'm off there again in January and I'm looking forward to
rekindling my old flame ... Malaysia. This little post is to just wet
my appetite (oh, and to try posting to www.whereoldbackpackersgotodie.blogspot.com

via the iPhone).

Ajax's Amsterdam: Amsterdam in the 90's

2007-12-18T12:56:00.000+11:00

Ajax's Amsterdam

A story I wrote whilst living in Amsterdam back in 1994/5.

Amsterdam's typical 'brown pub' had taken on a decidedly orange hued air. Men and women alike, with orange sponge clog hats on head, cheerfully downed their genevers as a prelude to their beer. Bursting from the speaker all manner of stout and hearty singalong type songs. And singalong with gusto did this pub. Arm in arm and swaying to the beat they belted out these football songs.

A hapless Irishman, silly enough to enter the "bruin kroeg" after his team had been defeated by the mighty Dutch, was forced to down a green bowler hat's worth of the brown bar's brown nectar. Not however that he seemed to mind. As celebratory in loss as in victory this Irishman had no intention of turning down such a "punishment".

The Dutchman next to me, obviously appreciating the fact that I was enjoying the situation, endeavoured to teach me the intricacies of the Dutch football singalong. Suffice to say the only remnants that remain are a memory of some old voetbal schoen (football shoe) and something about k k k k Koeman, followed by a huge shout and then back into the chorus. It was whilst teaching me these rudimentary basics of being a supporter of Oranje (Orange, being the colour of the royal house, is the sporting colour of the Dutch) that my Dutch singalong partner let me in for some news.

"This is nothing", he would have me know, waving his arms at the joyous mayhem around us. Niets!" (sounding like Nix) he said in Dutch as if for emphasis. "Wait until you see Ajax play!", and with that he burst into an Ajax song. Within moments the rest of the bar had joined in singing the decidedly English lyrics of, "We love you Ajax, we do. We love you Ajax, we do. We love you Ajax, we do. Oh Ajax we love you!". Now to the rest of us this may just sound like some commercial jingle for household cleaning fluid but to the Dutch it was more well known than their national anthem. (Incidentally, while we're on the cleaning fluid discussion, Ajax is pronounced "I YUCKS").

That was the summer. Summer watching football, summer watching tourists in the town of Amsterdam. Town is an appropriate word for although Amsterdam is undoubtedly a city it has the feel and character of a quaint old town. Small enough to wander around in, yet cosmopolitan enough to satisfy any city lover.

Come summer the population grows. Tourists from near and far come to gawk and gape. The juxtaposition of old world culture and that of the new, youth dominated, culture ensure that all have reason to visit the city of canals. Queues of elderly and young line up outside the house of Anne Frank. A tall imposing building overlooking the canal, its heritage is all that saves it from becoming the new headquarters of some globally minded company. Some of those in the queue are here because their guidebooks tell them that this is "one of the sites you must see", others, aware of the history, come to pay homage. Few appreciate the drunken sounds of football songs that echo up from the passing canal boats. Holland has won another match but this city of Amsterdammers looks forward to the long cold winter.

The winter of few tourists. The winter of snow and iced over canals. The short dark days where little sun is seen. With luck the winter's cold enough and all can skate the canals. Better yet, winter's the time for cafe culture. Days spent inside warm and cosy pubs. Nights spent watching their team take on the world. All winter long they watch and they celebrate. Amsterdam once the mightiest of cities lives again through its team.

None stand before Ajax and the crown. Many cringe and cower. Come the final night where Europe's best clash for the honour of European best. The bars and pubs, always full, have known no day like this. In the Ajax colours, with Ajax scarves the Amsterdammers cheer "their" boys. With wild abandon the game is played and Ajax come up victors. Like a storm unleashed the city goes wild. Striking all corners of the city the parties do not abate 'til the early hours of dawn, only to re-awaken a few short hours later upon the triumphant return of "their boys". The settling of the storm reveals the carnage. Parties gone wild and property damaged but nothing daunts the spirit of the Amsterdammers. Days later the newly arrived tourist is still likely to come upon roving bands of Ajax'ers singing, "We are the champions!".

Amsterdam, the city of culture. Amsterdam, the city of sex and drugs. And Amsterdam the city of Ajax, the city of Champions.

I'm Dromedarius and welcome to my travel demon.

2007-12-18T10:56:00.001+11:00

You can call me Dromedarius for now (if you want to call me anything). Welcome to this blog about where old backpackers go to die.

And where do they go to die?

Aside from moving to staid old jobs, obtaining mortgages and taking part in that old rat race we long eschewed we continue to hanker to travel.

That's this blog. My attempt to satisfy the travel demon within. It'll contain plans for trips I'll never go on. Ideas for jobs in foreign countries I'll never get. Countries I'd love to visit.

It may even contain actual trips, photos and stories from the old days... back when Lonely Planet only had South East Asian editions and it was somehow hip & cool to be carrying an LP edition with you.