By Susan Munro
Around dusk, I am usually sitting outside beneath a flamboyant sky, listening to rhythmic chanting drift up ‘the hill’, watching the first bats emerge and the pigeons trace their whistling circles high above. It is a time for contemplation and reflection.
Over the past year, I have often been filled with an overwhelming sense of awe, gratitude, and peace. Living and teaching in Lombok, far from my home and the people I love, has been both challenging and deeply enriching. Lombok has revitalised me; distance has sharpened my vision.
I have so much to be thankful for: the growth I have experienced as a teacher and mentor, the relationships I have built with colleagues, parents, and students at Nusa Alam, and the friendships I have formed within the Senggigi community.
I am thankful for leaders such as Mark Heyward, Kate Slater, and Yusaf Khalil. Mark was my principal more than thirty years ago, and it feels fitting that my journey has come full circle, working in the school he founded. Kate and Yusaf share the same energy and belief in what schools can become. Their passion, vision, and determination transform school culture and inspire those around them to strive for better outcomes for children.
When I began teaching, confidence did not come naturally to me. I doubted my ability and often wondered if I had made the right career choice. Over time, however, I was fortunate to learn from so many remarkable educators.
Colleagues who encouraged me, challenged me, and helped me find my voice. Their generosity of spirit shaped not only the teacher I became, and the mentor I strive to be today.
This year, Lombok itself has been my greatest teacher.
Every day I have been struck by the contrasts of this place. There is extraordinary natural beauty here: the people, (I’ve always loved brown eyes), gigantic green leaves, trailing vines, orderly rice fields, warm rain, dramatic thunderstorms, and sunsets that make your heart sing. Tropical fruits that taste real. Yet there are also sights that are harder to witness: beaches strewn with plastic, smoke rising from burning rubbish, neglected dogs and ponies, villages in need of basic infrastructure, and daily reminders that opportunities and wealth are not shared equally.
These contrasts have made me reflect deeply on gratitude and generosity. Watching farmers tend rice fields with patience and care has reminded me not to take my food for granted and to start a veggie patch when I get home.
Sharing food so lovingly prepared by Ibu Nur in her home, surrounded by her family, was one occasion that filled me with happiness. The warmth and kindness of the people like Ibu Nur, and my patient taxi driver Pak Jayadi, has encouraged me to think differently about what it means to live a happy life. It has prompted me to think of ways to encourage connections in my own neighbourhood back home.
We can be generous in so many ways: with our time, our knowledge, our encouragement, our attention, and our kindness. Some of my happiest moments this year have come from sharing experiences with colleagues who have become friends, helping where I could, or simply taking the time to listen.
Education itself is an act of generosity. It is found in every teacher who shares an idea, every colleague who offers support, every mentor who gives guidance, and every child who helps us see the world through fresh eyes. It is found in the relationships we build and the opportunities we create for others.
Lombok has reminded me that joy is found in simple moments: a conversation, a shared meal, a teacher excited by their own learning, children laughing, a frog discovered in the playground, a smile from a stranger, or time spent learning a new card game with friends. These are the memories I will treasure most.
Perhaps this is the true gift of teaching: the understanding that education is not simply the passing on of knowledge, but the building of relationships through which we all learn and grow. Teaching is a calling grounded in service. We dedicate our expertise, time, patience and empathy to nurture students, empowering them with the skills to live in this rapidly changing world. As I reflect on this extraordinary year, I feel a deep sense of pride in what has been achieved and genuine optimism for the future. I know that my journey in Lombok is far from complete. As I say goodbye I am looking forward to my return; looking forward to continuing this journey alongside the people and children of Lombok. Learning together and contributing to a cycle of growth and generosity that never really ends.
What I will carry home is a deep sense of gratitude, not only for this island and the people I have met, but also for the reminder that when we give generously of ourselves, we often receive far more in return. I have given and received generosity in equal measure this year, and I leave feeling richer because of it.
People taught me to teach. Lombok taught me gratitude. Generosity taught me joy.
What a privilege it has been to become part of that circle here.
