Mike Byrne from United States

"I’m sorry to say that I don’t have a happily ever after Eat, Pray, Love ending, but I do feel fully rested and rejuvenated as I return to the Western world.  In fact, I think I have more questions now than before I arrived.  But for some strange reason, I am not burdened by it as before.  It fact, it feels pretty darn good."

Let’s be frank.  In stark contrast to Bali’s native collectivistic social structure, Westerns often come to Bali for egotistical reasons.  Whether it’s the overindulgent Aus fest in Kuta, the drive to discover that last hidden surf break, and/or the reinvention of one’s self after an unsatisfying first attempt at life in the Western world, westerners in Bali all seem to be in search of something and/or someone.  I was no different.

After finishing my MBA and landing a job in corporate strategy consulting outside the United States, my native country, I had a couple of months to wait while paperwork was being processed before I could begin my job.  Instead of sitting in California, I decided to search out an experience that would allow me to help others while also providing plenty of time to surf.  I also wanted some time to reflect on life, smell the roses if you will, before entering the corporate world.  And, yes, there was also my personal life.  I was also coming upon a crossroads moment.  Do I begin down the path of family with someone in more or less my same stage of life, or do I continue to indulge in myself knowing that I may never marry or, if I do, it will likely be to someone quite a bit younger than I?

The search was on for the perfect volunteer tourism experience.  After days of researching foundations throughout Southeast Asia, I decided on Slukat in Bali, Indonesia.    In hindsight, it was an easy choice.  After viewing the website and communicating with the managing director, I was convinced that Slukat was a professionally run organization, a key consideration in choosing a host.  If I was going to make a substantial donation of my resources, both monetary and temporal, I wanted to leverage my investment to the max.  Needless to say, I was not disappointed.  During my time at Slukat, I not only taught local students and participated in Balinese culture, but I felt like I was given the opportunity to collaborate with the fulltime staff and help build the organization.

As is when you join any organization, my first few days or weeks required a bit of adjusting and orientation.  For most people at Slukat this consists of adapting to living in an isolated, rural region of Bali, navigating Slukat’s organizational infrastructure, and learning how to teach Balinese youth by channeling your own childhood from years long past.  And as you might imagine, there are plenty of surprises along this journey.  Don’t get me wrong, Slukat’s facilities are top-notch for a rural foundation, but it’s not a resort with tons of hip young idealists sipping on mojitos discussing the next beach party to hit.  (For cultural and practical reasons, alcohol is prohibited on Slukat grounds and smoking is prohibited around the students.) This may be Bali, but you’re 25 minutes from Ubud and at least double that from the trendy Southern resort scene.

The villagers near Slukat are mainly poor farmers long forgotten by Bali’s tourism industry.  (In fact, many of the students have never been more than 5km from where they were born.)  They bathe in nearby rivers and are lucky to eat 3 square meals a day. Perhaps the best way to describe Slukat is a amalgam between a rural school and a Balinese temple surrounded by rice fields and filled with children’s’ laughter.   Oh, did I forget to mention that you spend much of your time walking around barefoot?  In fact, early on my bare feet checked their ego at the door as they plunged 1/3 meter deep into fresh cow manure that needed to be gathered for composting.  (Not all volunteers are this lucky.)

The weeks that followed my initial days can be described as a process of moving from the mind to the heart.  Similar to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, your desires begin in the mind with satiating your rudimentary physical requirements: food, shelter, laundry facilities, hygiene, etc.  With those quickly taken care of, you then begin trying to figure out how Slukat is organized and determine your role within the school.  Meanwhile, your first real challenge awaits you, your first class.  “What is my lesson plan?  What have others done in the past?  What suggestions does the curriculum make?  How will I keep the children’s interest for 90 minutes?”  But somehow, almost magically, you start to develop a rhythm to your volunteer life and the whole operation becomes second nature.  You mind begins to rest.

It’s at this juncture that I felt the move towards my heart.  No longer was it good enough to deliver the material, but I wanted to satisfy my heart’s desire to help these students obtain their full potential.  Despite only having a short time with them, I wanted to challenge them, develop their self-esteem, and foment their curiosity in life and in the world beyond their village.  As I told one student, following his presentation to the class. “I love your kamikaze English.  You have an idea and you commit to expressing it even when you don’t have the ideal vocabulary to express it.  You know you are going to crash and burn, but you do it anyways.  You are committed to trying.”  As in life, you will never achieve your dreams if you don’t try.  Likewise, we had debates where students defended positions with which they were personally opposed, and we developed plans for achieving their personal goals.  Of course, English was our tool of choice, but empowering the youth of Keramas village was our primary goal.

In the end, my egotistical dreams of surfing 5 times a week never materialize, but as I now sit on a plane flying to California over the Pacific, I couldn’t care less.  I have my entire life to improve my surfing, but Slukat was a once in a lifetime experience.  (Although I do harbor thoughts of returning with friends and family.)  Smelling the incense outside my room every morning, sharing a short Hindu prayer before and after each class, and positively influencing one particular student, who gave me an epic hug on my last day, was worth plenty of lost Balinese waves.  Like any experience, you get out only what you put in, but Slukat has an uncanny ability to generate a uniquely generous return.

And what about my personal quandaries?  I’m sorry to say that I don’t have a happily ever after Eat, Pray, Love ending, but I do feel fully rested and rejuvenated as I return to the Western world.  In fact, I think I have more questions now than before I arrived.  But for some strange reason, I am not burdened by it as before.  It fact, it feels pretty darn good.