Notes for a (Still) Non-Existent House: The Struggle of a Contract Teacher Embracing a Dream

The dream of owning a house today feels like embracing a shadow: close in hope, but distant in reality. But could it be that the dream has merely been delayed, not lost?

I still remember that night very clearly. Quiet, a light drizzle, and only a small study lamp was on. In front of me, a sheet of paper with grid lines and a dull pencil. I drew something I had been carefully storing deep in my mind: My dream of owning a house.

Not a house with a high fence and a two-story balcony. Also not a house with a swimming pool or an Instagram-worthy kitchen.

I just want a house that's just one floor. There's a small garden in front. A reading nook in the corner of the room directly facing the window. The walls are a soft color, and the scent of wood in the flooring. Not luxurious. But warm. A place I can call: home.

But now, I'm starting to wonder: Am I really chasing my dream of owning a home... or am I just hallucinating?

Why Is Owning a Home Becoming Further Out of Reach?

The price of houses where I live now is like the sky: it can be seen, but cannot be reached, even when I stand on top of all the hopes I have.

As a contract teacher, I am no stranger to calculations that make breathing difficult. My monthly salary does not compare to the relentless rise in property prices. Sometimes I indulge in these calculations, not to torture myself, but because I want to know: how far behind am I?

If I save one million rupiah every month, I would need more than 30 years to be able to buy a house in cash. This is assuming that the price of the house does not increase. But we all know, house prices never stand still. They move forward like time, always moving forward, never looking back.

The price of houses is rising like a season that cannot be stopped, while my income... is still stuck in the same season for years now.

And in the midst of all that, I sometimes feel like I'm participating in a race, but my starting line is set much further back than the other participants.

I haven't even started running, and I'm already out of breath.

The price of houses keeps rising like time. It cannot be stopped, never looks back. While I am still here, counting hopes that are breathing slower and slower.

KPR: Solution or Just Delaying the Pain?

Some of my friends chose the home loan path. I am equally happy to see them holding the key to their first home, smiling in front of the door, taking pictures of the fence with captions full of gratitude and emotion. It's a beautiful moment and they deserve to celebrate it.

But not all stories have a sweet ending. Some end up having to return their house, as the installments become too heavy to bear. Some see their houses left unfinished in the middle of construction due to a sudden economic downfall in the family. Others find themselves in an endless cycle between payday and the due date of their installments, with no break to truly catch their breath.

I know, mortgage is not the enemy. It is not the devil. It can be a bridge connecting dreams to reality as long as its foundation is strong, and the wind of life is favorable.

But to be honest, I haven't been brave enough to cross yet.

There is a fear that quietly sneaks in between the cracks of the night. What if my income suddenly wavers? What if I get sick? What if one day, I wake up and realize that my life has only been revolving around my salary and installments, without any room for even eating out, or going back to my village without guilt?

I do not want the home that should have become a place of return, to instead turn into a place where I am bound. Like someone who successfully embraces their dream, but loses the freedom to breathe within it.

I want a house, not a cage.

KPR can be a bridge, but a bridge can also wobble if its foundations are weak. I'm not ready to lose my freedom, just for a wall that doesn't necessarily provide a sense of belonging.

The Dream of Owning a Home: Is It Only for the Privileged?

Sometimes I feel envious. But not because they got a house first, rather because they have a path that feels much smoother towards it.

Some inherit land from their parents. Some marry stable partners who were already established. Some are born into a solid economic foundation, even before they know the price of cement.

I don't blame them. They are lucky, and I am learning to accept that.

But I also can't deceive myself about the bitter feeling that quietly emerges. The feeling that arises when seeing others move quickly, while I am still struggling at the starting point.

And in the midst of silence, this question often comes uninvited: Is it true that houses can only be owned by those who have privileges? Those given a head start in the race of life, while I haven't even been given a decent pair of shoes?

But I try to take a deep breath. Long. Deep. I do not want to drown in envy, because I know: not all races have the same finish line.

I started learning something important that isn't taught in motivational books: Not everything in life needs to happen quickly.

Some people can buy a house at age 25, and that's amazing. But there are also those who only manage to achieve it by age 45. And that doesn't make them losers or failures. We're just walking in different clocks.

Sometimes, we indeed need more time not because we are slow, but because we are growing roots. And deep roots, even though unseen, will hold us stronger when the storm comes.

Some people are born with the foundation of a house. I was born with a shovel and an empty plot of land. But perhaps, it is precisely there that I can build a house that I truly understand, from the ground up to the roof.

Small Strategy: Land, Not Just a Dream

Finally, I am starting to change my perspective. Not because I have given up on my dreams, but because I have chosen a path that is more likely for me to follow.

Rather than continue to draw the house in my head, I decided to start taking steps, even if small, even if tiny, even if I haven't arrived yet.

I started to make payments on a piece of land in the village. The price is still within reach, it doesn't make my chest tight. The payment is simple, monthly without interest, without a bank, without an extravagant notary. Just a letter of agreement on a wooden table, and a cup of coffee in hand. Mutual trust becomes the only foundation.

For some people, this might be too simple. Too far from the image of the "ideal dream." But for me, this is the first concrete step towards a home that has only lived in my mind up until now.

I know this isn't an instant solution. The land can't be inhabited yet. There's no building, no door to hug when tired. But at least, I feel like I'm making progress. Not just standing still in the middle of a rapidly closing flood.

And at the same time, I started reevaluating my relationship with money. I learned to track my expenses, not to limit my life, but to acknowledge them.

I set aside an emergency fund, even though it's small. I started looking for additional income by writing in my spare time, teaching lessons on weekends, and even selling books that I used to think I would never part with.

This strategy may seem trivial. Small. Not promising big changes in an instant.

But for me, it's like a hidden map. A map that only I can read. A map leading to dreams I haven't let die yet.

I know, others might see it as taking the long way. But I prefer to call it: the path home that I built myself, step by step.

That small piece of land may not be habitable yet. But every installment is a sign that I am no longer staying silent. I am taking steps, not giving up.

What Does House Actually Mean?

Once I thought that a house was a building, solid walls, a roof that doesn't leak, fences surrounding it, and my name on the certificate.

But over time, I learned that home is more than just bricks and mortar. It goes deeper than that. It is softer. More human.

Home is the place where we can take off our shoes without hesitation and open wounds without fear of judgment. It's where we can laugh loudly, or cry silently, without having to explain why. Where silence isn't a threat, but space to heal. A place that may not be spacious, but makes us feel content and accepted.

Sometimes a house isn't a personal possession. It could be a small rental where the inhabitants look out for each other. It could be an inherited house that we care for patiently, full of patches but also filled with memories. It could be a simple dormitory in a narrow alley where every corner stores the stories of our falls and rises.

And slowly I begin to realize something I didn't understand before: Owning a home doesn't necessarily mean having a building in one's own name. Because at its core, a home is not property. Home is about feeling.

Sometimes, home is the relationships we nurture. Faces that bring us peace. The feeling of coming home that arises even through just a voice. Even an embrace can be more "home" than a grand, silent building.

A house is not just a place to live, but a place where the soul feels at home. And sometimes, a house isn't owned by us---but by those who make us feel worthy of living there.

Data Speaks, But Not All Stories Are Reflected in Numbers

According to BPS data, in 2023, approximately 84.79% of Indonesia's population owns their own home. This figure seems encouraging. But numbers don't always reflect the feeling.

I once visited a friend's house on the outskirts of town. The house is their own, yes. But it leaks everywhere. There is no clean water. The commute to work is almost two hours. And he can only spend one hour with his child every day.

This is my house," he said with a tired smile. "But sometimes, I miss being a tenant.

Ownership is not a guarantee of comfort.

A house is not just about the certificate, but also about the life lived within it.

The dream that can be delayed, but do not abandon it.

If you're also struggling to own a home, believe me, you're not alone.

Many of us are walking the same path. Sometimes we have to stop for a while. Sometimes we have to change direction. But that doesn't mean we won't arrive.

Dreams can be delayed, but never abandoned.

Like seeds sleeping in the dry season, they remain alive, waiting for rain. So it is with our dreams. Perhaps now they seem impossible. But who knows, one day, when the time is right, they will grow.

What Can We Do Today?

Not all of us can immediately buy a house. In fact, most of us may not even know when that will happen. But that doesn't mean we should stop moving forward.

We can start from small steps that are often underestimated, but quietly can bring us closer to our dreams:

1. Save, even if it's a little.

It's not about the size of the amount, but about training oneself to believe that the future is worth fighting for. A thousand rupiah a day might sound funny, but that's where we learn about consistency. It's not the amount that matters, but the courage to keep setting aside, even when life is tight.

2. Record expenses.

Not to become rigid, but so we can know which way our life is heading. Many funds are lost not because they were spent on big things, but because they leaked silently through small things we considered trivial. Notes are a mirror. They do not lie. And sometimes, one sheet of note can save a year's worth of savings.

3. Additional income.

It doesn't mean you have to start a business or become a successful freelancer right away. But perhaps, selling small skills, offering services, or selling used items could be a simple beginning. Extra income may not always be substantial, but it can become a ray of hope during tough months.

4. Building a long-term mindset.

A house is not a temporary destination. It is the place where we plant our future. And to get there, we need more than just enthusiasm; we need patience. We need to take care of our minds to keep them strong on the long journey, so they do not waver when friends post pictures of their house keys on social media first.

I know this isn't easy. And I don't want to deceive anyone that everything will be quick or light.

But I also know one thing for sure: Small consistent steps are stronger than big dreams stored only in the head.

But in the midst of economic uncertainty, with prices constantly rising and income not always guaranteed... We still have one thing that inflation, default, or the system cannot steal: Hope.

Hope may not give us a home today, but it gives us a reason to keep fighting tomorrow.

Often, that is enough.

Finally, Home is About Coming Home

I am writing this not because I have already succeeded in owning a house. But precisely because I have not.

And in this unfinished journey, I have learned many things that were not taught in school:

That a home is not always a permanent structure. That coming home can happen wherever our hearts feel content. That dreams are valid, even if they haven't happened yet.

So, how about you?

Are you also walking the same path? Do you have similar stories? Or perhaps a different strategy?

Because who knows, from the simple stories we share, new spirit may grow. There is courage reignited in the hearts of those who were about to give up.

Maybe we don't have a house yet. But we still have hope. And sometimes, hope is enough to keep us going today, and try again tomorrow.

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