Braised, Not Stirred: The Unofficial SEA-cret Recipe of Bonding Over Adobo

If the first week was about being welcomed, the second week was about becoming family.

This week, our SEA Teacher journey took us out of the city and into the beautiful, green area of Jongol. Our destination? The boarding school of UHAMKA Universitas Muhammadiyah Prof. Dr. Hamka (SAINTEK). This wasn't just a visit; this was a full immersion.

We packed our bags and moved into their dormitories. That's right, we lived right alongside the high school students. Waking up in the quiet of Jongol, sharing meals in the middle room, and hearing the buzz of student life all around us—it was the most authentic experience we could have asked for.

The teaching here felt different. Maybe it was the focused environment of a boarding school, but the students were incredibly sharp and so eager to learn. We got to stand in front of classrooms and teach English, sharing our knowledge and laughing through the challenges of pronunciation together.

But the real magic happened outside the classroom. The cultural exchange was everything. We presented parts of Filipino culture with so much pride—our dances, our traditions, our way of life. And the best part? They were so attentive. You could see the genuine interest in their eyes, asking questions and wanting to know more. It’s an amazing feeling to share your culture and have it received with such open hearts, just as we are fascinated by theirs.

The kindness was overwhelming. The school principal himself accompanied us on the way to the campus. They constantly made sure we were comfortable and, most importantly, well-fed! They showered us with delicious Indonesian foods, wanting us to try everything.

But we had a secret weapon: Adobo. We took over their kitchen (thankfully, they allowed us!) and cooked a big pot of classic Filipino Chicken Adobo. The nervous excitement as they tried it was palpable. Seeing their faces light up and hearing them say "Enak!" (Delicious!) was a victory we celebrated together. It was more than just food; it was a little piece of home we could leave with them.

We had three full days of sessions—teaching, sharing, laughing, and learning. Three days that felt both incredibly long and impossibly short.

And then came the hardest part: saying goodbye. How do you say goodbye to people who have opened their home and their hearts to you? There were hugs, there were promises to keep in touch, and there were definitely a few tears.

We left Jonggol with more than just memories. We left with a feeling of having found a second family on the other side of the ocean. It was a powerful reminder that even with different languages and traditions, connection is universal.