On arrival at the ashram, early Monday morning, I was greeted to the sound of Morning Prayer.  Not the kind of reverend hymn singing you’d expect to find in a Christian church, this was haunting in a different way.  Walking up to their meditation bale (mediation room) I could see that many of the children were playing instruments, drums, cymbals and shakers, the consistent rhythm reminded me of a heart beat…..steady, regular, hypnotic. I stood alongside the bale in the shade for a few moments; the scent of incense picked up on the breeze, the sounds of cockerels, and dogs barking in the distance. Within a few moments curious eyes spied me. A welcome hand signal ushered me into join them. Seated on cushions on the floor, they squished up closer together to make room for me. I joined them on the cushions amid beaming generous smiles as if I was a favourite aunty visiting for the day.

 I walked across the lawn to the pavilion, to find rows and rows of desks sheltered underneath a canopy of local woven roof, a white board at the front and a couple of markers. Lesson 1 began with an introduction from Pawana, a local, well respected high school teacher.  In my class sat 20 something Indonesian teenagers, smiling nervously at me. I returned with my own nervous smile – my mind silently praying for answers to my continual questioning, ‘how can I best help these children?’ Over the next couple of days I learnt much about my class. Many of them had had an education through their early childhood, but during their mid teens, their parents couldn’t afford the next step in their education. They were sent to the ashram where they could gain a spiritual education, with the bonus that if they worked hard and showed talent, they might be picked for a scholarship allowing them to continue their learning.  Such was the power of the Ashram that my students ranged in age from 12 (little Wayan) up to a 31 year old.  Such was the dream to be educated. Whilst the children made living at the ashram look like a holiday retreat, I could see deep down many missed their families, and their 9 days a year permitted leave barely scratched the surface. They all became each others’ family.

Time flew by as I learnt to accept that I would be offered food first, that my room was luxurious, whilst they lived in dormitories that many westerners would have considered signalled poverty. As they often visited the river to wash their clothes, and bathe – I was given a (basic) but generous ensuite, considering the standards the children had to live in.  I was grateful, but embarrassed to be put on a pedestal.  I later understood that teachers were in thin supply, and so they did all they could to show their endless gratitude – so I quickly learnt to accept their gifts of kindness.

Days passed and I adapted the lessons to include more music, performance and song (the Balinese are gifted musicians and singers).  After evening prayers, they’d be treated to a movie night (in English with local subtitles), followed by a discussion about what each film meant to them personally.  After watching Kung Fu Panda, I asked them what they would like to do, if they had the confidence to do it. The answers were simply astounding. Ranging from opening a hospital with free health care, to running schools for poor children, the students were acutely aware of how lucky they were and the plight of those less fortunate than them. I cast my mind to the teenagers I had taught in the UK and compared their dreams of becoming models, celebrities and footballers. A humbling contrast.

Each afternoon we were joined by cheeky, scruffy, smiley, barefoot children dressed in dirty clothes. I wondered who they were and found out that these were the local children who got no education – they were sent out to work in the rice fields at an early age.  The Ashram welcomed them in every day so they could run around the generous lawn and play unabashed, safe, and loved. Again I heard no judgement in the voices of my young teachers, only empathy and a sense of community.

The sound of laughter followed me everywhere this week.  The children here love to laugh. My questions often appearing non-sensical to their inner programming. On a rare visit to their dorms, I had a look at their bedrooms.  I was in one of the two girls’ bedrooms and in front of me were two double beds, a wardrobe, and a desk crammed full of fluffy toys.  I innocently asked ‘whose bedroom is this?’  The girls burst out laughing. (What had I said that was so funny?) One of them finally managed to explain that it was ALL of their bedrooms? (Huh?) It turns out that they sleep where they like, sometimes three in a bed sometimes four.  Nobody claimed ownership over anything, nobody had more, they pooled their resources and shared their lives openly.  As I observed over the next few days I could see that they were indeed right.  They didn’t always sit in the same desk during lessons, and sometimes, there would be 3 per chair – personal space being a necessity in the western world.  Separation and individualism not being high on the list of a Balinese teen.

Reflecting on my week I could now really appreciate the value of the education I had received so many years ago. Being able to live with my loving family is another point of gratitude, which I admit to not really appreciating up till now. One of the biggest things I was truly grateful for were the range and quality of the role models I had had in my early childhood, friends of my parents, teachers, aunties and uncles all contributed to give me choice and balance. These children are blessed in so many ways, but have only a few grown up role models available to learn from, so I’m committed to staying in touch and working with them whenever possible. How rewarding to be able to share experiences and offer different perspectives to these special individuals?

From both a business and personal growth perspective I can definitely see how group consciousness is truly the most satisfying way to proceed through life. The cooperation and joint vision of the Ashram created a peaceful and supportive atmosphere where they worked tirelessly together to manifest their aligned dreams.  This is definitely something the Western world could do with contemplating for a moment or two, and these principles are now underlined in both my business training and personal growth sessions. Prior to arriving in Bali, I was very much indoctrinated into the ‘them and us’ (ME! ME! ME!) separatism that excluded the idea of harmony. No matter how kind my ultimate intentions were, a sense of ego was always present, often throwing a spanner in the works. Recently my mindset has crested a wave and is now flowing ashore with experiences of love, sharing and the collective – a far more pleasant place to live in.

And so now back to where we started this journey – with the children running headlong into the sea fully clothed, playing ball, splashing around with new friends from the less fortunate side of town. A rare day out to thank them for an amazing learning experience, to thank them for their time, their boundless laughter, love and support. I wonder if it was indeed their week of learning or my own!

If you’d like to learn more about the Ashram, offer to teach or support them please contact me by email.

Louisa’s Final thought – If anyone out there can invent whiteboard markers that don’t dry up instantly in the Indonesian heat, you’ll make a fortune over here!!

To get a taste of this experience, please click on the link below. Enjoy!