It was a long path from blind faith in the teachings of a guru to trusting my inner guru. At first, I was convinced that yoga is a panacea to all problems. If only I followed a particular discipline prescribed by a self-proclaimed guru, I would be saved, and I would have the power to save others. It took me years to realise that any teaching should be filtered through judgement based on my personal experience. Only recently I learned I could tap into self-healing power only by trusting my inner Self. More importantly, I got convinced that the teacher isn’t there to play a role of an omniscient expert, ready to answer all your questions, tell you what you should do and definitely should not, or even cure you of any pain or ailments.
When a word of a guru had an absolute value – graduating from my first Sivananda Yoga training
People tend to look up to their teachers, therapists, or experts in a particular field. Modern medicine also made people believe that a professional has the KNOWLEDGE, hence could solve all their problems. Furthermore, capitalism made people used to the scheme: I pay you so that you fix me. Ideally, straight away.
People come to a therapist, for a ‘fix’ and to a yoga teacher to get fit, flexible and calm
However disappointing it might sound, it simply doesn’t work that way. Whoever went from one specialist to another with a range of seemingly unrelated issues, never getting a satisfactory diagnosis, neither finding prescribed treatment much helpful, would already know that. The second part of that realisation is much more difficult to digest: nobody can help you, apart from yourself. Any healing, or simply improving the quality of life, cannot happen without you ALLOWING it to happen from within. There are many mechanisms of mental resistance at play, so it could take quite a long time to notice, acknowledge and finally process them.
Any healing starts from within, the teacher is there just for some guidance and support
Unsurprisingly, this customer/ patient mentality causes a variety of challenges to the teacher. As a teacher (and a therapist), I always thought it’s my mission and my duty to help others. Let’s not deceive ourselves: it was also the source of job satisfaction. The problem is, help cannot be forced. Just as you cannot make an alcoholic quit drinking, however good intentions you have, you cannot cure someone’s chronic pain or stress-related issues. Good intentions, knowledge and experience, might even get in the way of helping out. Coming from a position of an expert, the teacher would prescribe something he is convinced about. But there is no guarantee it is going to help a particular individual in a specific situation!
Doing some poses or movements mechanically, without the inner feedback, without the ability to let go and deeply listen is likely to give just temporary relief, if any. Worse, it could create a compulsion, a conviction that without this particular teacher or this particular therapy, the pain/problem would return. It creates a dangerous dependence pattern, which disempowers the student/client and feeds both ego and a wallet of a teacher/therapist.
Pain relief treatment should be just a beginning of a complex healing process
You might start wondering by now, what is the yoga teacher for, then? So what are you paying for if you cannot get any guarantee of an easy solution in return? If you can’t be even sure that your teacher will keep you safe and prevent you from injuries? It might seem like washing hands from responsibility, like in those wavers you sign in the registration form: ‘I am fully responsible for my body’.
Plough could be a perfectly safe, even pleasant pose or a very bad idea – it all depends what YOUR body tells you
Some time ago, I stopped asking people if they have particular injuries and prescribing them what they should or shouldn’t do. I’m not a medical doctor. I might not have even heard about their condition. More importantly, I am not inside anyone else’s body. I’m sorry to say that, but it’s true: you are fully responsible for your body during a yoga class.
Although some teachers might appear like generals in the army, you are not obliged to follow their orders. Always treat the teacher as someone who gives you guidelines, suggestions. Ultimately, you decide how far you want to move or how long you want to stay in a pose. It is in your own interest to make that decision based on the sensations, taking into account any warning signs from your body. If you ignore those signals (due to ego or competitiveness), you should be ready to take responsibility for this attitude. A good teacher will never force you to do anything. He will not make you feel worse than other students if you choose to do things differently. If something doesn’t feel right, most probably it isn’t right for you. Always remember that. The greatest challenge for the teacher is to navigate through all those feelings of being judged, or not feeling good enough, or expectations that drive students during the class.
Feeling self-conscious in front of the camera– ideal conditions for doing yoga against or in spite of the body
It all boils down to creating a safe space where students learn to observe their bodies, breath and emotions and tune into their needs. It’s a long process, of course. A process the teacher is unable to speed up. The moment you stop looking at your teacher or other students to copy them and draw the attention inwards to search for answers would become the turning point. Since then, the yoga practice gains a whole new quality altogether. It could take months or even years. It’s something that has to ‘click’ inside you.
Tune in, listen deeply – those aren’t empty words but foundations of beneficial yoga practice
Yoga isn’t about learning new poses, becoming strong and more flexible, nor about breathing or moving ‘correctly’. It is about honouring your own Self: an intricately linked entity made of body, emotions and thoughts. Yoga means freedom and ease of movement, the ability to trust the support of the Earth to release unnecessary physical and mental tension and creating space to feel and accept whatever happens within mind and body. The methods are irrelevant, so long as you learn to embody those ideals on and off the mat. You could only give credit to your teacher for showing you the path. You are the one to take the first step.
Among many things that one year of pandemics has given me (such as paying off my carbon debts to the environment), was plenty of free time. Looking back, I’ve used that time predominantly for learning. As you might know, without learning, there is no progress, no change, everything remains stagnant. Ever since I came back from my journey around Asia, I was constantly discovering new things about yoga and mindful movement.
For the past year, I was exploring various branches of functional yoga
And it’s not that I haven’t done it before. I spent most of my years in London trying out various yoga styles, teachers, approaches. But there was a significant difference. At that point, I knew only that I was searching for something else than Sivananda yoga. I just didn’t have any clue what it could be. I was wading in the dark. Somehow, I did come across yin yoga and Scaravelli yoga, but I probably wasn’t ready to fully absorb it. When I went travelling, I barely had time to do any yoga at all. I wouldn’t have many opportunities to learn from good teachers anyway. I spent some time in India, but I wasn’t interested in guru-style yoga anymore. Instead, I focused on expanding my knowledge of Thai Massage in Thailand.
I used my travel as an opportunity to learn more of Thai Yoga Massage. Back in Europe, I focused on yoga again.
Coming back to Poland, I quickly realised I wouldn’t find any stimulating teachers in my home city. They all taught Iyengar, Ashtanga or typical vinyasa flow. Perfection, aesthetics, structure. Not my cup of tea. What was left? The vast world of online yoga. This process only deepened and normalised with the arrival of COVID-19. If I was teaching online, why not learn online? Over the last 1.5 years, I’ve been learning every single day. I have written hundreds of pages of notes. I discovered plenty of inspiring teachers: Esther Eckhart, Helen Noakes, Julie Martin, David Kam, David Lurey, Jose de Groot, Bernie Clark and Lisa Petersen.
Both teaching and learning yoga online works quite well
To my relief, I not only enjoyed their classes – my body enjoyed them, too. I also realised, that although their teaching styles differ, they all draw from the same sources, they’re all on the same page. They all believe in yoga which is effortless, intuitive, oriented towards wellbeing. In a word, they believe in the functional approach to yoga. Even yin yoga (which per se is an individualised practice) became less structured, more fluid, more exploratory. The breathing practices, totally different from traditional pranayamas, gained an entirely new purpose. Breathing wasn’t about controlling anymore. It was about observing and letting go.
The breathing practices I do now are very different from traditional pranayamas
My latest discovery is somatics: a system developed by Thomas Hanna. Even though it’s not yoga, it can be combined with yoga into one seamless entity as they are both embodied practices. I haven’t realised I already did know many somatic movements until I dived deep into traditional somatic classes.
I’ve been following somatic principles long before I discovered somatics by Thomas Hanna
Then, boom! Another coincidence. Katrin Heuser was giving an ONLINE course on the therapeutic approach to yoga. I studied Thai Yoga Massage with her, but have never practised yoga under her guidance. I looked at the program and couldn’t believe it. It would cover all the topics I was exploring for the past 1.5 years: polyvagal theory, diaphragms of the body (yes, there are more than one!), fascia, somatics. I did a couple of workshops with her and just knew this is IT. Exactly what I’m looking for.
This is the course I’m getting so excited about!
If I did that course, I could finally not only not harm people or keep healthy people in a state of wellbeing. I could skilfully assist those suffering both from physical and mental conditions. Teaching senior citizens and realising how many people suffer from anxiety or psychosomatics disorders, I realised I need this sort of training more than ever before.
Teaching the seniors, I feel I need therapeutic background more than ever before
I was thinking of doing a yoga therapy course for ages. What stopped me? A comprehensive yoga therapy course in London was too much of a time and money investment to me at that time. I was saving for the journey of my lifetime and didn’t want to spend another three years in London. Courses in India, though affordable, stopped appealing to me. I was shocked when I attended a therapeutic yoga class in Kolkata which could send even a relatively fragile person straight to the hospital.
The Indian style therapy yoga didn’t appeal to me
From 27th March, I’ll be formally a student again. I can’t wait to share with you all that I’m going to learn! Learning is empowering. See how you can use the abundant time that limited travel and going-out opportunities freed up. I’m sure there’s more than Netflix and social media to get hooked on.
This year has been unexpected in so many ways that I don’t even become surprised anymore. As soon as I stopped resisting the idea that things don’t always go the way I want (see my previous post) a smooth, yet quite novel path opened in front of me.
Teaching in times of COVID has mostly gone online, straight from home
My new job – teaching the senior citizens
It was summertime in Krakow. The pandemic was far from over, but most restrictions were lifted. People were eagerly coming back to their normal lives. My former boss asked me to cover a few of her classes at the centre for the senior citizens.
To my surprise, the activities coordinator asked if I could teach regular yoga classes for them. That’s how I got a job in the middle of COVID crisis. By October, I was teaching at various senior activity centres six classes a week. Many of the students attending my regular classes were also retired. Just over a year since I retured from Asia, I was teaching more classes than ever before and I started specialising in yoga for seniors.
Chair yoga
The cultural restraints
The ladies (and very few men) attending the classes for seniors surprised me with their enthusiasm and with their openness to yoga. Taking into consideration it’s Poland and it’s a Catholic non-profit organisation I’m working for, I steered away from any chanting or even mentioning the word ‘meditation’.
Explaining the 3-dimensional breathing to the senior students
At first, I was focusing just on gentle movement and simple breathing techniques. When the funding for the physical activities suddenly dried up, I had to re-structure my classes into ‘educational’. I called those new classes: ‘Training of the mind’ and ‘Training of the breath’. Yes, you’ve guessed right. I started teaching pranayama, mindfulness and meditation. I even introduced yoga nidra.
I was sceptical whether it’d catch on. Is it possible to spend one hour just observing the breath and the sensations if you have never done anything similar before? To my surprise, some ladies loved it so much that they started attending a few classes a week.
teaching anuloma viloma pranayama at the ‘Training of the breath’ class
It brings me great joy to see how those 60+ ladies discover the intricacies of the breath and for the first time ever take a plunge deep into themselves. I can see how desperately they need it, especially right now.
It is striking to me to see how quickly my elderly students switch from the blissful after-class state to complaining or worrying. It’s like the negativity is their default state of mind. And it’s not their fault. This pessimistic outlook on life is deeply ingrained in Polish culture. I’ve been struggling for years, shaking it off me – with limited success. The chat after the class always obsessively revolves around the rising number of infections and politics. Even one hour of respite from this default negativity circuit is a major reset for the nervous system. And all my senior students can feel it.
Don’t judge too quickly
I was amazed to see how popular the classes were, despite the pandemic. Weighing the risks and the benefits, the participants must concluded it’s worth a gamble. But in autumn there was a sharp spike in COVID-19 infections – all classes moved online.
teaching a restorative pose from my mini home studio
I must say I struggle with teaching senior yoga online as they don’t want to turn on their cameras. I have to talk to a blank screen, which is deeply frustrating. I can only hope the ladies wouldn’t get overly confused with my instructions and wouldn’t do anything beyond their limitations.
at my online classes, I can see clearly all the participants- the senior yoga is the exception
At first, this stubbornness with switching the camera off annoyed me. I thought it was just reluctance to be seen and judged by other participants. But then the project coordinators enlightened me. Some people have such outdated equipment that it doesn’t even have a camera or a microphone. Some share a tiny room with their spouse in a multi-generational household. They even face derision from their own family who watches on as they practice. Life of a Polish senior isn’t easy. Since then, I don’t try to convince anyone to turn their cameras. I focus on making my guidelines as clear as possible instead.
We all suffer
The senior citizens aren’t the only people affected by the COVID-19 and its aftermath. Working from home obviously makes one stiff and sore. But more than anything, it creates tension which keeps on building up. The mental state deteriorates. People battle with isolation, anxiety and stress.
Addressing those widespread problems, I created a couple of workshops aimed mostly to calm down the nervous system. Since most of the people stopped having massages, I started teaching at my workshops self-massage techniques, too.
teaching a feet self-massage during the Self Love workshop
People of all walks of life, all ages, all genders started practicing yoga nidra, loving -kindness meditation and many other techniques I’d have imagined being too exotic for the average Pole. And if it was my job to come here, at this time, to teach them all of that, so be it.
the closing of the Home Yoga Retreat ran to international group of students during the first lockdown
Many things happened since I came back to Europe from my journey around South East Asia. I arrived in Krakow, my home city, in June 2019 to spend summer with my family and, quite unexpectedly, I’m still here.
enjoying a train ride in Sri Lanka
It was a surreal sensation to be back to Europe and Poland looked like a quite pleasant place to be. Much more so than I expected. I would recommend anyone a long journey to a very different part of the world- it makes you appreciate a lot of things you normally take for granted!
admiring the beauty of Poland with my parents
The initial positive surprise notwithstanding, the travel bug, once caught, is not easy to cure. Watching the Brexit unfolding and feeling the winter approaching, I thought of moving to Spain. Not just to experience something new, but mostly to finally live somewhere warm and sunny. I got convinced to stay in Krakow till the New Year but the late autumn and wintertime wasn’t that much fun for me anymore.
the gloomy, November view from my flat
As soon as I arrived, I came back to Thai Yoga Massage. It was a perfect opportunity to consolidate all that I learned in Thailand and regain the flow. I also started teaching yoga occassionally to friends and friends of friends. I’d have never imagined how difficult switching to teaching in Polish would be for me. Almost a year onwards, teaching in English still feels more natural to me.
learning Thai Massage with master Ajarn Sinchai
When things don’t go according to the plan…
I like to believe I’m in full charge of my life. If something doesn’t go according to my wishes, it’s hard for me to stay equanimous. In January, it looked like I was going to get stuck in Poland for a while. I blamed whoever I could for that for a week or so and did my best to create my own suffering by constantly repeating in my mind how miserable I felt about that realisation.
Then, something clicked. I was just in the middle of one month long meditation course with Deepak Chopra. His teachings aren’t exactly my cup of tea but I did agree to participate since a good friend invited me. One beautiful day I was listening to Chopra explaining how everything happens FOR A REASON, thinking it was a rather simplistic view.
The same day, I got a job offer at a local community hall. ‘If I cannot leave Poland, why not to stay and keep on developing my own path in yoga?’- I thought. Soon, next job offers followed and within a few weeks, I was teaching a few regular yoga classes.
Reinventing myself as a teacher
The fact I started teaching a completely new group of students allowed me to start from a blank page. As nobody knew ‘my style’ here, I could re-invent myself as a teacher. I had plenty of time to study; from books and online. I was totally hooked on functional yoga, the approach gaining more and more momentum in the West but still totally unknown in Poland.
Functional yoga isn’t a new style, it’s a whole new paradigm. A very prudent one at that. Functional yoga doesn’t focus on the form or shapes of the yoga postures, rather, on finding the way of approaching them in a way which would bring a particular sensation within the body. The main premise of functiona yoga is that we are all different and our anatomical diversity should be reflected in the way we practice.
Functional yoga doesn’t obsess about extreme flexibility. Mobility (regaining or maintaining the full range of motion) and the stability in the body – is far more important. It might all sound technical but the beauty of it is that the students don’t need to be bombarded with the endless list of alignment rules – they focus on interpreting their body’s responses and understanding what benefits them. In this sense, functional yoga comes back to essence of yoga- drawing the attention inward, awareness and acceptance.
Functional yoga paradigm can be adapted to almost any yoga style: there can be functional vinyasa flow or functional yin yoga. I chose to let go of any rigidity and drew inspiration from Scaravelli yoga. In Scaravelli, poses aren’t forced or pushed – you’re exploring the new, fluid and natural pathways of movement. The stillness and deep listening on the other hand, comes with yin yoga poses. Teaching both Scravelli-inspired and Yin yoga, I found a perfect balance between yin and yang aspects of yoga.
Everything happens for a reason!
After a few months, I had another opportunity to see very clearly that EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. In March being ‘stuck’ in Poland rather than moving to Barcelona turned from being a hindrance into a blessing. With the news of Covid-19 sweeping through Spain and seriously affecting aforementioned Barcelona, I couldn’t marvel enough at how things turned out for me. I was close to my family, in a familiar place and in a country much less affected by the virus than most of the Western European ones.
With no particular reason to stress, I turned the coronovirus to my advantage. I started teaching yoga online, reaching out to my past students in the UK as well as those in Krakow. Suddenly, physical distance wouldn’t matter. I was even asked to prepare a series of easy, accessible home yoga practice for a Polish medical online portal. A whole new world of opportunities has opened for me.
teaching one-to-one class on Zoom
This time, I’ve done much better at looking at the positive side of ‘being stuck’. The philosphy behind the mindfulness states that you cannot control any of the external circumstances: your freedom lies in the way you choose to react to them.
setting up my home yoga studio for the online class
I’ve been busy studying, practising and teaching yoga, while in my free time, I’ve continued working on my travel blog: seemore4less. There is no chance I’d start feeling bored or isolated. In fact, like many others, I’ve reconnected with friends I wasn’t in touch with for ages. Unlike many, I’ve been used to spending 24/7 with my husband so there wouldn’t be anything new that would throw me out of balance. The one crucial need I’ve been struggling with have been the walks in nature, severely restricted in Poland. I’ve found my way around that, too, by walking my brother’s dog in secluded areas.
enjoying a (legal) river walk with Luna during the lockdown
Resilience in the face of pandemic
I consider the last year, including the last few months, the time full of new opportunities, the time of learning and growing. That includes learning something about myself.
I realise that everybody’s circumstances are different but I’m fairly confident that at least to some extent, all of us would be able to understand what is happening now in the world indeed happens for a reason. If only that reason was giving the Earth a much needed break. If only it was highlighting the issues that no longer would be able to persist without being addressed: both on the national and the domestic level. And I do wish you from the bottom of my heart that you find the strength and resilience to respond to the crisis. It is your response that would give you the real freedom from the physical and mental confinement.
A few days ago my friend send me a link to an article which he thought would interest me. No doubt it did. It was a text by Matthew Remsky, a scholar, a yogi who made his name by demystifying various aspects of yoga. He wrote much about physical yoga injuries and now it seems his focus moved to the mental ones.
The text was about the recently revealed sexual abuse scandal in the Sivananda Yoga Vedanta organisation. The founder of the style, Swami Vishnudevananda, turned out to abuse quite a few of his close female associates and students over many years, (including his final years when he was bed-ridden!)
Swami Vishnudevananda
I shouldn’t be surprised. There were so many of yoga gurus and celebrities that got exposed as sex offenders before him… The most recent are the famous cases of Bikram Choudhury of Bikram Yoga and Pattabhi Jois of Ashtanga Yoga. I guess styles less familiar to the general public get less exposure. For exmple, I completely missed out on the earlier scandal with Swami Satyananda Saraswati -(the man who invented Yoga Nidra relaxation technique)- who, together with other swamis abused minors.
What’s wrong with Sivananda yoga?
This time the scandal hit the organisation I was very familiar with. The one I followed strictly, with all my heart and conviction for around a decade. A style that drew me into the world of yoga in the first place.
The article didn’t stop at listing the sexual abuse. It mentioned how ‘fake’ Swami Vishnu was. How he mortgaged the Sivananda Yoga Centre in New York just to upgrade his private jet, for example.
What I read was in stark contrast to the official organisation’s propaganda, presenting at each satsang (spiritual gathering) a vision of a sage, a person with no vices, with a special aura, higher than a ‘normal’ human being.
Do the real gurus exist?
With one Indian guru falling from the pedestal every few months, one eventually comes to the conclusion that the ‘real’, truly enlightened gurus simply don’t exist.
The best documentary showing the psychological process of creating the guru by his own disciples was ‘Kumare’. This psychological experiment was led by an American journalist of Indian ethnic origin who posed as a guru. Within a few months, he gathered a group of devout followers who found it eventually very hard to accept that he was a fake.
Kumare movie poster
A close relationship to somebody we consider extraordinary changes ones life forever. An award-winning Netflix documentary series ‘Wild Wild Country’ about a particularly controversial Indian guru- Osho- is probably the best documentary I’ve ever seen. All the thriller- like twists of action notwithstanding, what hooked me the most were the interviews with the people who are until now, in one way or the other, under the strong influence of a long time deceased man.
Osho
I don’t think I ever was so close as to believe word by word the hagiography of Swami Vishnudevananda and his master, Swami Sivananda. Yet, the idea that they were somehow different or better did appeal to me at the time.
The mechanism inside a yoga organisation
Fond memories from the teachers’ trainings
The human nature of the swamis (senior teachers who quit the life in society and become celibates), was clear to me from the beginning. I met quite a few of them on both teachers training courses and at the London Sivananda Centre. There were among them fanatic, strict and very cold women, men corrupted by power, money and prestige but also people with healthy, optimistic attitude to life who seemed to genuinely follow the ideals of yoga.
My Teachers Training Course in Poland
As for the organisation itself, I had mixed feelings. I totally loved both of my teachers training courses with the Sivananda organisation. I enjoyed being cut off from the world for an entire month, without worries, in a state of permanent bliss.
I didn’t mind overpaying for the the basic services I was provided but I had no doubt the cost of running those programs was far lower than organising them, particularly that neither teachers nor staff was paid.
Divorcing from Sivananda organisation
For whatever reason, the Sivananda Centre in London didn’t get me even close to that state of bliss and elation. What the Remsky’s article describes as ‘bombardment with love’ always felt fake to me. Fake smiles, fake proximity, fake care. I didn’t feel I belong there. My relationship with that place was on an exchange basis.
I just came to London and didn’t have money to attend yoga classes so I volunteered at the centre to be able to come to the classes for free. I polished the ritual brass utensils, cleaned the bathrooms of the residents, tidied the yoga studio and baked cookies not from the devotion to the organisation or from the wish to do some karma yoga (selfless action) but because I wanted to get something very specific in return.
At the Sivananda Centre in London
That pragmatic approach set me in contrast with other karma yogis who were coming to the centre straight from their 9 to 5 jobs or leaving their families because they believed they were doing something good: both for their own spiritual growth and for the community.
But the idea that baking cookies that will be sold to the students or endlessly, obsessively cleaning something already clean was something useful or inherently good seemed absolutely ridiculous to me. Karma yoga should be something of real use to the society like feeding the homeless, not slaving for free at the yoga studio.
The last straw that made me turn my back on Sivananada was the remark of one of the swamis who asked me with reproach why was I eating so much when he saw me having a free meal after a few hours of voluntary work. Really? That’s how you show your gratitude and compassion, loving swami?
My experience with the teacher involved in the scandal
Training with Prahlada
The Sivananda scandal involves two men: the late Swami Vishnu and one of the senior teachers, Prahlada. Prahlada led the Advanced Teachers Training in Tamil Nadu I completed in 2011. I actually really admired him as not only had he a great sense of humour and lots of knowledge but was also a vocal critic of what went wrong with the organisation.
I remember his stories about the swami from the flagship Kerala ashram who was obese, had a collection of Rolex watches and – I’ve seen it myself- would routinely fall asleep during satsangs.
Selfless or sleazy?
The incident during the ATTC (Advanced Teachers Training Course which totally didn’t raise my suspicions at that time, now gives me a second thought. Prahlada claimed he was from the family of chiropractors and was an adept of that art himself. He invited some of the students for the posture- correction sessions.
I had a tilt in my neck which was particularly visible when i was in a headstand. It’s actually unthinkable why wasn’t I ever dissuaded to do this inherently risky pose if I couldn’t transfer my body weight evenly over the fragile cervical vertebraes. Many Sivananda teachers, including swamis, would simply ignore it. Prahlada saw it and wanted to fix it.
My neck in a not quite right place
It’s been a while ago so I don’t remember the whole situation clearly but I do remember I had to strip waist up. I thought: it was a bit weird and awkward as he was my teacher but he was also a health professional and I should not let any ethnic stereotypes make me paranoid. I decided to trust him.
I think he made me look at the mirror where the asymmetries were indeed very visible and then he just swiftly cracked my back. I heard it, I felt it and later I could see the red mark where the movement happened. That was it. Nothing inappropriate happened. This being said, I remember vaguely that the other girls who went for the consultation found it unpleasant and creepy. Why or how? I cannot recall by now.
The danger lies in blind trust
When I read parts of the article to my mum she couldn’t believe how a man on the verge of dying could abuse a young, strong woman. Well, it has nothing to do with physical violence. It’s all about trust.
However I liked this style of yoga and felt attached to it, I never got fully immersed in the personality cult. Perhaps if the guru was alive and cast his ‘spell’ on me, it would have been different.
But my close friend is still now a member of a very similar community hailing from India. She follows her living guru blindly: asking him for his blessing before taking any important decision in her life.
For me, as an outsider, the followers’ fascination with that guru is a complete mystery: the man totally lacks any charisma or public speech skills and his lectures are fuzzy, incoherent and very boring. Yet, everybody around him hangs on every word he says.
My friend is skeptical about her yoga organisation for the same reasons I was skeptical about mine: lots of internal politics, back-stabbing and atmosphere far from loving and empathetic. This rational approach wouldn’t extend to judging her guru, though.
What if one day her guru wanted to take an advantage? What if he told her she’d need to engage in some tantric ritual with him to receive the grace of enlightenment? Would her common sense prevail or would she trust her guru till the end, no matter how confusing would it be? It’s scary but I cannot be sure what would she do in such situation.
Do we need traditional yoga now?
In the original tradition of yoga, (which is very much lost in the days of fashionable, postural yoga styles), the disciple would lose himself, his ego, his possessions, his attachments to the outside world, his doubt, his critical thinking and any trace of his independence in order to totally submit to his guru, who was seen as an extension of the ancient lineage. Those were the preconditions for any success on the spiritual path, path towards the existence, knowledge and bliss absolute.
A yogi in the Himalayas
That is exactly what the traditional styles of yoga – the ones with the lineage, gurus and spiritual teachings – still preach. There are still some people to whom this scenario appeals. I won’t even pretend that it attracts me at all.
Yoga as a lonely path
Yoga is a process of self-development
Yoga is a powerful, wonderful tool for self-improvement on a multitude of levels. Starting usually with the body, we soon build the awareness which is unavailable to the vast majority of the world’s population. This awareness: of our mind patterns, habitual reactions, hidden traumas and many more things – is the potential for a deep and positive change within us. I don’t think we really need anybody to lead us by the hand in that process. The only ones that can save us from our self-destructive ego is ourselves.
Apply a healthy dose of mistrust
Just as I have deep mistrust of religious organisations, I don’t believe cultish yoga organisations could be any better. There is too much potential for perversion of the original, no doubt noble, ideas.
Often just a single yoga teacher would start using his influence in an inappropriate way, not to mention the entire organisation! Humans are only humans, even if they wear orange robes and long beards. The gurus, teachers, leaders aren’t omniscient and should be never, ever followed blindly.
The teacher within you
That’s why I always try to wake an inner teacher within my students. Encourage critical thinking. If something feels wrong, it probably is wrong. The sooner you let go of the ideal of an infallible teacher or guru, the better for you.
You might be wondering why didn’t I write any blog post nor did I post anything on my yoga Facebook page during long months of my South-East Asia journey. The reason is very simple: I didn’t have much to write about.
I got so hooked on travelling- going from place to place, exploring day in, day out-that it left me with precious little time to practice yoga. There were entire days I didn’t do anything yoga-related at all! Often, I would do just pranayamas or 5-10 minutes of gentle yoga moves to wake my body up and relieve the stiffness.
On the days like this yoga-posing would be my only yoga activity
It was easy enough to practice daily when I stayed at one place for a longer while, especially if the accommodation happened to have a terrace or a balcony with a nice view. When those were unavailable, I’d wake up early in the morning to use deserted common areas, such as roofs.
Almost anywhere in Thailand I could find a nice or at least a decent spot for outdoor yoga
I had ideal conditions for my yoga practice on Thailand’s islands, at the resort where I was supposed to work in Sri Lanka and at the yoga centre in Cambodia where I taught for two weeks. I cherished my morning outdoor yoga at those beautiful locations. But travelling through Vietnam, Myanmar and Malaysia I was staying solely in budget hotel rooms, with Couch Surfers or in hostels- all located in the middle of busy towns.
This was my yoga space for one month in Sri Lanka
I’d say that roughly half of my travel was intense which meant I’d leave the room early in the morning and come back in the evening, completely knackered. Whatever little time I could salvage, I’d have to choose my priorities. Often, all I felt like doing was restorative yoga with legs against the wall. After walking 20 km or cycling for the whole day in the tropical heat I simply had no energy for anything else.
After a day like that there wasn’t much energy left for anything else
During more busy periods of my travel, I had to make a tough choice between meditation and yoga. I’d take this decision depending on whether it was my body or mind that needed more rest and attention. To accommodate both, I often meditated on the trains or buses, which obviously was far from ideal.
Rarely would I find such a perfect spot for mediation as that one in Siem Reap, Cambodia
One might think that a few intense months like these would totally ruin my body, especially without much yoga. After all, my days were filled either with strenuous physical activities or just the opposite- spent in cramped minivans or buses. Unbelievably, the opposite was true: I was completely pain-free for the entire period of my journey (with the exception of the pain in the soles of my feet).
Travelling inside the luggage section on a bus in Laos
Meanwhile, when I lived in the UK, doing and teaching yoga every day, I’d periodically experience one kind of pain or another. It probably had more to do with sitting most of the day in front of the computer or carrying my massage futon hanging across one shoulder all over the city than with doing a lot of yoga. Nevertheless,I find that difference remarkable and significant.
During my travels, I’d return to Kolkata (my Asian base at my in-lasws’ home) in regular intervals. As I didn’t have much to do there, I was able to return to full yoga and meditation practice. Whenever I was back to my usual practice, I could see no deterioration in the level of my mobility or strength. In short, I discovered that I don’t really need to do yoga every day to stay healthy and feel good.
Walking meditation at the meditation retreat on Ko Samui, Thailand
In fact, my mind suffered far more from the lack of regular meditation than my body from the lack of regular asana practice. Two meditation retreats (anapana in Thailand and vipassana in Kolkata) did not quite make for the lack of daily meditation practice though they definitely helped on a short-term basis.
Doing yoga at the empty reception area in a guesthouse in Luang Prabang, Laos
So my message is: try to keep your daily practice but don’t worry if you can’t have a ‘proper’ session every day. Do whenever you can, however you can. Yoga during travelling is possible so long as you don’t make your travel plans too hectic.
You don’t need much to make it happen: a bit of space on the ground and something to protect your knees from the hard surface would sufficce. A yoga mat is a nice and helpful gadget but it’s certainly not essential.
If you don’t have a mat, use a towel or a hotel’s blanket
You don’t have a mat and the floor is too dirty to lie down? Not to worry, you can do some standing asanas, or even do some stretches on the bed if it’s hard enough. Experiment, adapt, adjust and don’t be too strict with yourself.
I haven’t done much teaching during my journey- here teaching kids in Cambodia
Apart from short episodes in Cambodia, Sri Lanka and Thailand, I haven’t taught yoga for over a year now but each time I stood in front of my students, it felt like coming back home. Teaching is so ingrained with me that I don’t feel ‘out of touch’ even after a long break. That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss it. I’m very much looking forward to teaching regular classes soon.
Chiang Mai turned out to be an ideal place for me. It was great not just for Thai Yoga Massage, though. Chiang Mai was a kind of a hippie destination, attracting people interested in meditation, yoga, massage, etc.
For the first week I stayed in a hostel which didn’t have a suitable space for yoga practice. Hence, I followed advice from one of the guests and took my mat to the nearby park. I was lucky enough to arrive just on time for a led yoga class.
I came to the park for a self-practice and I stumbled across a free, led class
As it turned out, every day a different teacher- some of them just visiting for a short time- would teach a 90 minute class free of charge. I was in paradise. At first, I didn’t even know the schedule so I’d just turn up and get surprised with the class of the day.
LAUGHTER YOGA – A VERY NEW EXPERIENCE
After attending a typical vinyasa class, I ended up at a laughter yoga session. I must admit I was very skeptical about this kind of ‘yoga’ but I decided to let go of expectations and judgement and just go with the flow.
The teacher was really good. Before we started, she said that what we’d be doing would be silly but explained it did not matter. Apparently, the laughter would be beneficial for health even if it was fake. Moreover, the energy of the group probably would sooner or later make us laugh genuinely anyways.
Laughter yoga- it actually works
For most of the time, we did lots of really silly things and my laughter was forced. However, when we lied down for a laughter relaxation I started laughing crazily, as if I was on drugs almost as soon as I closed my eyes. To my surprise, laughter yoga worked: I managed to let go and release some deep held emotions.
PRACTICING AND TEACHING
Every day I’d come to a class and enjoy a different kind of yoga. When I saw on the Facebook page that there was no teacher scheduled for Friday, I got in touch with the administrator and she gladly accepted my offer to teach.
It was a great experience to teach a large group (15 people) of yoga enthusiasts from all over the world. I liked it so much that I scheduled myself for the following Saturday. For my second class, I grew bold and decided to make an experiment. I taught a Scaravelli style inspired yoga class: a very slow- paced session with the emphasis on feeling the sensations while getting towards the asana.
With the students after my class at the park
The class involved plenty of mindful, fluid movements but not so many classical asanas and I knew that for some puritan yogis it would be hard to swallow. Many people coming to the classes didn’t even check the schedule so they had no idea what was waiting for them. I did expect some participants to leave my class and indeed one girl got up without a word after around 20 minutes but the rest of the group stayed on. A few people even approached me after the class, wanting to get to know more about that style. It definitely encouraged me to experiment more with this incredible style of yoga in the future.
Can there be anything better than a savasana under the sky?
ACRO-YOGA ADVENTURES
Yoga wasn’t the only thing to learn at the park. This place turned out to be a favourite hangout of acro-yogis. To be honest with you, I don’t consider acro yoga ‘real’ yoga, (it’s more of acrobatics), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to learn it or that I wouldn’t enjoy practicing it.
Eric provided a stable and secure base
Eric, a lovely American guy, spent a considerable amount of time teaching me how to ‘fly’ (or do the acrobatics while receiving the support from the person lying as the ‘base’ on the ground). I had tried acro-yoga taster class just once before and had gone through only very basic moves on that occasion so I was surprised how much I could manage to do with Eric. I guess with an experienced ‘base’, flying even for complete newbies would be easier.
I’m flying!
SLACKLINING: THE BEST CORE TRAINING
Eric also taught me the principles of slack-linining and I got completely hooked. My legs started shaking uncontrollably as soon as I got on the line but the muscles very quickly adapted to the new, unusual job. The core strength proved very useful in finding a balance, just as much as the mental focus.
Full focus
CHIANG MAI: A PLACE TO REVISIT
Altogether, I had an absolutely amazing time in Chiang Mai and I’d definitely recommend this place to anyone who loves learning new things. I guarantee there would be plenty of opportunities to learn there.
I knew I’d be back to this magical place but meanwhile, I still had Myanmar and north-eastern part of India to visit so I bid the Chiang Mai adieu.
It was all the easier to do since the air quality in Chiang Mai in March was terrible: in fact, it was the most polluted city in the world! The reason wasn’t traffic but seasonal grass and forest burning. If you ever come to Chiang Mai, make sure you avoid Feb-April period.
During my stay in Chiang Mai- the world’s capital of Thai Massage – I was very eager not only to study this technique but also to receive massages from the masters. Learning that a 2- hours massage with my teacher Ajarn Sinchai would cost me the same as a single class (and a fraction of a price of a regular massage in the UK), I didn’t hesitate a second.
Just as he taught us, Sinchai would give a massage to a person sitting on a chair
I must admit the massage looked very different from what I was expecting. I started seated on a chair while Sinchai was skillfully removing all the tension from the clavicle and shoulder area. Then I moved onto a table (instead of a more traditional futon spread on the floor). Sinchai sat on a chair by the table, probably in order to preserve his energy. He was fully justified to do that since at the age of 75 he’d still massage from morning till evening 7 days a week!
The pressure applied by him wasn’t really strong and he mostly worked along the energy lines. He also had no problem with skipping huge sections of my body just because he didn’t think they needed any work. That was a novelty as I was taught one should always go along the lines throughout the body, without missing any part. Despite the massage being quite untypical and very gentle, it felt really good.
ANOTHER WONDERFUL TREATMENT
I was still very curious about receiving a treatment from a very good therapist so I took a friend’s recommendation and booked a 2 hour session with Lar Thanakrit Khamtanong who was a very popular therapist in Chiang Mai.
Beautiful interior of Lar’s massage studio
Lar’s massage felt wonderful. He didn’t need to ask me any questions- he would just get straight to the areas which required attention, sometimes skipping other parts altogether. He always applied the perfect pressure: neither too strong, nor too light. The massage wasn’t painful at any point but I definitely felt it was working. Lar did make a few stronger moves ending with a cracking sound effect but in general I didn’t receive that many stretches. It totally made sense – I was flexible enough so there was not much to ‘open’.
THE DIRTY SIDE OF THE THAI MASSAGE WORLD
Lar was a very cheerful, friendly and extremely talkative guy. I could have just shut up and enjoy the treatment but the conversation was too interesting to give it up. Lar gave me an insight into the world of Thai Massage business in Chiang Mai. It was quite shocking to hear that big schools would hire people who speak English well but have very little idea about Thai Massage. This could result in mechanical teaching, strictly following the manual.
Lar believed one should always adapt the treatment to a particular person rather than follow a sequence and that logic totally resonated with me. On the other hand, I could also understand that most Western students needed some structure to start with. Over time, drawing on that basics and a growing in experience they’d learn how to tailor the massage to individual needs.
How many of those street masseuses aren’t certified?
Lar also told me that massage brings such good money that many people simply buy their certificates or do the short courses and start massaging without having enough experience.
I’ve heard from a few people in Chiang Mai about recent cases of serious injuries which happened during or shortly after receiving a Thai massage including a pregnant woman who lost her baby. I also saw a video of a Thai masseur from another town who broke a hip bone of a woman with an extremely brutal kick (it is disturbing but you can see it on YouTube). Some of those cases were clearly fault of an inexperienced or reckless therapist but Lar defended others, saying people who didn’t warn the therapists about their injuries or conditions were also partially responsible.
A TEMPLE MASSAGE
I was very curious but also a bit scared to try a massage at one of city’s numerous temples. I could not resist the temptation though so I tried the cheapest massage I could find: a one-hour long massage offered at Wat Mahawan, a short walk from the Tha Phae Gate. It cost roughly one third of Lars’s treatment but was also half shorter.
Chiang’s Mai most budget massage
After paying upfront, I was led by a lady therapist to a large hall full of massage futons. At first, I was the only client in the room (no wonder- it was 1 pm and 39 degrees) but then someone else started receiving massage at the other end of the room. Apart from the futons, there was a large altar. My therapist chose a futon right next to it. She bowed to the altar reverently before starting the massage.
She did not ask me any questions regarding my current health condition before starting which would be unthinkable in the UK. From the moment she touched me it was clear that there was a chasm between a random masseuse treatment and the one of the masters. She was correct with most of the moves and it really wasn’t a bad massage but it simply didn’t flow in the same way.
Massage at Wat Mahawan
I was glad she started quite gently as I was still scared of the famously painful Thai massages. During the session, I noticed only a few tiny glitches which probably would get unnoticed by any non-therapist: sometimes the alignment of the joints wasn’t optimal, causing unnecessary discomfort during the stretches. I felt that some of the stretches were too fast or too jerky.
The lady massaging me was fully confident with her bold ‘cracking’ moves but I was slightly less so. There were moments I felt I was pushed too far, too fast and I thought I could get away with it due to my flexibility and the fact I remained as relaxed as possible. However, it would’t be necessarily the case with everybody. At one point my hip joint made a loud pop. It was completely natural to me and didn’t bother me at all but my masseuse seemed a bit scared and asked me if I was OK.
Altogether, it was an enjoyable massage and definitely worth 150 baht. I’d recommend it to a generally healthy person with some level of flexibility. If you are more fragile or are in need of a special, therapeutic approach, do yourself a favour and pay more for a renown practitioner.
One of the main reasons why I chose South East Asia as the direction of my long journey was that I could participate in Thai Yoga Massage training with the local masters. I started my journey in April 2018 in Bangkok but didn’t go north to Chiang Mai, the capital of Thai Yoga Massage that time. In retrospect, it was a great decision to leave studying for later since I would have probably forgotten all I’d learned during one year of travels. To be honest, I was really scared I’d lose all my massage skills since I had barely had a chance to massage anyone for one long year.
I spent two wonderful weeks in beautiful Chiang Mai
After spending December- March in Sri Lanka, I was ready to finish the South East Asian loop and then return to Europe. I went to Chiang Mai on my own to stay fully focused on the studies and also not to make my husband too bored. I spent there two wonderful and fruitful weeks.
The number of Thai Massage (aka Nuad Thai) schools in Chiang Mai is mind-boggling. I was lucky to have my friend Sigita recommend me some of the teachers she had studied with a year before. Most of the newbie students head to one of the ‘factory’ schools which might be famous but don’t offer much personal attention. I decided to study with two masters from very small schools who would take only up to 8-10 students at a time. With my limited budget, I had to constrain myself to only those two teachers.
AJARN SINCHAI – TEACHER WITH HEART OF GOLD
I spent the first week attending the evening classes with Ajarn (teacher) Sinchai, a 75-year old, blind master known for his gentle approach. Before arriving, I had many doubts regarding the training: would the teacher speak understandable English? Would the style of teaching match my expectations of a structured study and well-explained instructions?
Ajarn Sichai was the loveliest person
All those fears and reservations disappeared as soon as I stepped through Sinchai’s doors. He was the loveliest person ever. I came half an hour before the class (not knowing yet I could be picked up from the old town for free by his wife) but Sinchai not only welcomed me in but started teaching me straight away.
The informal atmosphere at Sinchai’s classes
Then the Spanish-dominated group turned up and the whole room became filled with laughter and positive energy. Sinchai liked joking with his students and he treated them very well. Our teacher would praise us often and explain each move with infinite patience and smile.
ASIAN APPROACH
What I loved about Thai teachers was that they (as opposed to my previous European teachers) did not stop at just demonstrating all the moves. They repeated them over and over again, making sure that each and every student received the massage sequence directly from them.
Teachers in Thailand don’t use ‘models’ to present the moves, they show the moves on each and every student
That makes all of a difference as it gives the student the idea how a particular move should FEEL like, not only how it looks like from the outside. Sinchai, as a blind person, would ‘look’ at the students by holding their arms as they practiced which I’d imagine gave him a better idea about the body mechanics and pressure used than if he was simply looking.
Sinchai would feel how well we perform the massage on each other
At first, I wasn’t sure how many classes I’d have with Sinchai (I was paying on a drop-in basis) but I ended up completing 5 days – effectively half of his course. It was a shame I could not complete the entire course. I had already booked another training for the following week and I would have surely felt too overwhelmed doing two courses simultaneously
It was a shame I could not finish the 10-days course with Ajarn Sinchai
The greatest revelation of working with Sinchai was that we learned to perform an entire Thai Massage almost without applying any stretches. Moreover, such treatment would still be highly effiective in improving the range of mobility! Sinchai demonstrated it very nicely by showing us shoulder mobility range tests and teaching us how to tackle each restriction. After working on a particular spot for a couple of minutes, the range would increase significantly.
And… magic: the arm goes higher
I realised how much variety and space for your own style there was in Thai Massage. Sinchai’s manual followed more or less similar material which I covered during my foundation course but almost every single move was done slightly differently. Maybe it would be use of a forearm instead of fingers, or a different body mechanics. Those might seem insignificant but actually turned out to be important differences. Each teacher seemed to have his ‘signature technique’. For Sinchai, it was vibration: creating a vibration on client’s body by making your own arm tremble.
DIFFERENT COURSE, DIFFERENT TEACHER, DIFFERENT APPROACH
The next week I started a 5-day course with Jack Chaiya, son of the late legendary female therapist Mama Lek. It was an advanced training and from what I’d heard from the Spanish bunch I met at Sinchai’s, his course would be much more fast-paced and comprehensive.
There were only 4 people in our group which was great. This training was supposed to last from 9 am till 5 pm but in fact it was 9 am till 4 pm with a 1.5 h lunch break in between. There was a huge difference in personality and attitude between Sinchai and Jack. Sinchai would often go well beyond his 2 hours if he thought he didn’t finish, even if there were people waiting for a treatment with him. Jack gave the impression he would like to get over it as soon as possible and have a time for his siesta.
Unfortunately, Jack also lacked patience so crucial for a teacher. If somebody didn’t quite get a particular move, he’d get irritated and start talking in Thai wondering why we were so stupid presumably. Despite having a bit of an attitude, he’d still make sure that he gave a massage to each one of us.
Jack taught us many deep stretches
It was a shame I didn’t get along with Jack well on a personal level since I found his training absolutely awesome and really valuable. Around 60% of the moves we learned were completely new to me and those which I knew were all performed in a different manner. Jack’s Thai Massage was more traditional in a sense it involved plenty of stretches, foot, knee and elbow work.
5-day course with Jack Chaiya completed
I wasn’t used to absorb that much material in such a short space of time so I’d make videos during the training and then watch them and make notes back at the hostel. I’d mentally go through the sequence so that next day I’d be the only person who could remember it.
I knew I had to practice as much as I could so I was glad that finding eager guinea pigs in Chiang Mai wasn’t difficult at all. Gigit, a really cool guy I met at a yoga class was my regular swapping partner until my husband joined me and I could practice on him.
Swapping massage skills with Gigit
Inevitably, as soon as I was back to proper travelling, I wouldn’t have time or conditions to practice. Luckily, I was sure I’d be back to Kolkata and Europe in just 2-3 months so the gap wouldn’t be too long.
Those who follow my Facebook page might know that I spent long 2.5 months in Sri Lanka between December 2018 and March 2019. I ended up in Sri Lanka very unexpectedly. I was in Kolkata, at my in-laws house, planning the last leg of my journey through South East Asia when I started browsing the yoga job ads on Facebook. I thought I’d be a good idea to work as a yoga teacher at some nice location for around one month after my journey ends and before going back to Europe.
I was looking at job opportunities in May/June anywhere in Asia but my attention was immediately drawn to an irresistible last minute offer. A yoga teacher was needed for a period of up to 3 months to teach just one session a day at a lovely resort on Sri Lankan coast. To make things even more enticing, she’d be teaching volunteers involved in sea turtle conservation project. The teacher would receive a generous allowance and the food, lodging, visa and even the flight would be covered by the employer. Let’s be honest, it did sound too good to be true but I thought even if half of those things were correct it’d be already amazing. The idea of contributing towards an environmental cause was like the icing on the cake. I contacted my prospective employer and got enrolled immediately. I wasn’t surprised: most of the travelling yoga teachers just completed their 200 hours teachers training and I had over 10 years of experience!
I was later in charge of re-posting the kind of ads that attracted me to the project in the first place
My employer, a Sri Lankan man called Chamara, appeared rather mysterious. He wasn’t able to explain well why my services were needed urgently if the volunteers were to arrive only in January, (three weeks later!). He kept on talking about helping him to organize and prepare everything for their arrival. I double-checked if he’d pay me for that preparatory period and having his assurances, I flew to Sri Lanka the following week. It was a difficult decision since I had to leave my husband behind but on the other hand I’d be able to save enough for us to travel for a couple of months more. It wouldn’t make sense for him to pay for a 3-months visa and just linger around with probably not many opportunities to spend time with me anyway. We agreed he would join me only after I finish my work. This happened much quicker than any of us expected.
I arrived at Balapitiya in southern Sri Lanka on 13th December. As it turned out, I was the first out of three teachers who were bound to join the project. Chamara explained me confidentially that he was searching for ‘young, white girls’ because the volunteers coming on a paid programme were mostly Chinese and wouldn’t be comfortable with male, brown-skinned teachers. It was quite a controversial statement but I left it without a comment.
I’d spend lots of time just walking along empty beaches
For the first week, I didn’t do much. I stayed in a deserted hotel located 40-minutes walk from the village centre and from the beach. My basic needs were definitely fulfilled: I had my own room and I was receiving three very simple, rice -and lentil- based meals a day. For most of the time, I either sat within the compound working on my travel blog or walked along never-ending, empty beaches. Most of all, I had plenty of time for my own yoga and meditation practice. I very much enjoyed using the rooftop yoga space overlooking brackish backwaters. Having both time and suitable space for yoga practice felt like real luxury after months on the road.
I loved my yoga space at the Mountain Villa
My boss Chamara wasn’t great at communicating what my duties would be. He was a very busy and a very angry person, constantly running around and shouting at his local staff. It looked as if I were almost a burden to him- that annoying girl that kept on asking him if there was something to do. Soon enough, he’d come up with made-up tasks that didn’t make much sense but gave illusion of keeping me busy. I’d do anything from writing him a review on Trip Advisor to helping him and the male staff assembling bunk beds for the volunteers. Staying all on my own and without a purpose at this remote location was a bizarre situation and a strangely unsettling one.
The arrival of the other teachers changed much for me
Therefore, I was very relieved when the other two teachers: Iza and Eva arrived. I did not feel so isolated anymore and I quickly formed a strong bond with them. Soon after the girls arrived, Chamara finally took us to show his ‘projects’ and explain more about our role.
By then I had already understood that my boss wasn’t really interested in making any positive change to the environment or the people. His foundation was simply a business. He’d charge each volunteer $200 per week and make them stay in a basic dorm. Nil Manel Foundation, established and ran by Chamara, advertised four different volunteering project: turtles, elephants, children and temple. As it turned out, volunteers weren’t really needed at any of those projects. Just as Chamara was thinking hard to come up with a useless job for us three, he’d do it on a grander scale by developing volunteering programs for venues where sufficient staff was at place.
Chamara’s group of Chinese volunteers stressing out a turtle at the Turtle Project
The majority of volunteers would enroll for the most exciting and exotic turtle project. Chamara cooperated with one of dozens of turtle hatcheries dotting the Sri Lankan coast. All of them were purely business establishments making a living from volunteer projects and tourists contributions. The hatcheries would be in charge of picking up eggs lain on the beach, tending to them until they hatched and then releasing the baby turtles into the wild. They also took care of injured turtles rescued from the fishermen nets which supposedly couldn’t be returned to the wild. Bunches of them were kept indefinitely in small tanks. Both adult and baby turtles would be constantly bothered, caressed and taken selfies with by both tourists and the volunteers. The selfie and Instagram opportunities, ultimately, looked like the highlight of participating in the volunteer project.
At least the baby turtles were really released into the wild
I could still accept that sort of attitude for the higher cause but discovering the truth behind the Elephant Project was a real turning point for me. Until that moment, I naively trusted the elephants tended by the volunteers would be in real need (eg. orphans) and the project would contribute towards their well-being. The disturbing truth dawned on me upon arrival at the location where the elephants were kept. A sad looking, tiny elephant was lying in a concrete pool, chained by front and hind legs while ‘taking a bath’. A formidable tusker in the background stood chained to large palm trees in a similar manner.
Elephants from the project would be chained pretty much ALL THE TIME
Those were the temple elephants. In Sri Lanka, many Buddhist temples keep elephants for symbolic reasons and to increase their prestige. The task of those miserable creatures is to stand whole day in the sun on a concrete floor in front of the temple, receiving fruit and other offerings from devotees. They’d be chained in such a way that wouldn’t allow them to make a single step.
That’s the same elephant ‘at work’, in front of the temple
The fate of those elephants was heart-breaking. I started sobbing uncontrollably as soon as we drove away from that odious place. That was the moment I lost trust and sympathy of Chamara. I was really shaken by what I saw and 95% convinced I should leave then and there. But then I talked to my mum who convinced me that my staying there and documenting the entire procedure would make more difference than simply leaving. I decided to continue working for Chamara even though I knew he might not allow me to participate in the projects after my display of emotions. I did not hesitate to call his procedure animal abuse and that was driving him mad as he considered himself a good, devout Buddhist. I had a feeling I’d have a difficult time ahead.
Idling at the pool
Yet, the weeks were passing by and not much was changing. We still had nothing constructive to do and that was really taking its toll on us. I’d have never suspected how mentally straining staying in a limbo like that could be. Not knowing what was going to happen was driving all of us crazy. Chamara had a habit of giving us a task at the very last moment. He’d say we had a day off only to start banging on the doors and shouting, demanding that we leave that very minute to whatever task he had at hand. He clearly enjoyed being in full control.
Scrubbing the mats was probably the toughest job we did over that month and essentially our own idea since they were disgustingly dirty
Uncertainty and boredom was a combination putting our spirits down. Of course we could rationalise the entire situation: we were in paradise, having unlimited access to a swimming pool, living not so far from the beach and enjoying a perfect weather. Moreover, we did only negligible work and were supposed to get paid for it. Our friends were dying of envy when we were telling them about our circumstances. Yet, we were suffering. A mere sight or sound of Chamara would make us tense.
Sometimes we felt we were treated sub-human by him but as far as I could understand we were simply treated not different from his Sri Lankan staff. We would moan among ourselves about getting just two flat breads and chilli paste between three of us for breakfast or having leftovers from lunch for a dinner or being forbidden to eat at a table together with the hotel guests.
We were not allowed to eat at the guests dining area upstairs so we often just sat under the kitchen’s window on the ground
It was a classical example of self-afflicted suffering. We could not change Chamara but we could change our attitude to him and the whole situation. Or simply leave. On good days, we were managing it quite well, enjoying our time and feeling thankful, but most of the time keeping that positive attitude would prove too damn tough.
There were two situations when Chamara directly shouted at me and even tried to threaten me. I told him calmly he was not in a position to raise the voice and I could simply quit that very second without any regrets. That immediately pacified him. For the reasons only slowly revealed to us, he would really need us badly from the moment the volunteers arrived. Chamara finally admitted what he really needed us for after one of the most serious confrontations with me. He wanted us to tend to his volunteers, communicate with them in English (which his local staff was unable to do) and keep an eye on them. The girls did know some of that already as he sent them some sort of agreement beforehand (never signed) but I was quite surprised to hear that. I came to Sri Lanka to teach yoga, not to take care of his guests and I felt I was deliberately misled. In fact, the only class I taught during my stay at the Mountain villa was to a group of a junior football team staying there for a few days in December.
The only class I taught during the entire month
I wasn’t meant to go through the stress of actually taking care of the volunteers. I got fired shorty before the arrival of the first group. You’d never guess the reason. I did not trust Chamara enough to hand him my passport in order to receive the visa extension. That was my cardinal sin- he got offended by the fact I didn’t appreciate his efforts in speeding up the visa process. It’s true, he took us to Colombo despite his illness (he went to a hospital just after Christmas) but I still preferred to be fully in charge of my passport. Waiting in a queue for my visa extension, I got a message with the information that my services wouldn’t be needed anymore. A quick moment of confusion quickly gave space to relief. I just thought of the logistics of what to do next and having assured that my husband would be able to join me soon, I was ready to leave.
Officially fired, I started enjoying my time in Balapitiya more even though I was still stuck there
Only that I couldn’t. At first, Chamara tried to assert that I still work for him. I reassured him I was not interested in his psychological games and I considered myself irrevocably fired. I insisted I deserved a payment to compensate for wasted time and for travel expenses. I just expected enough to cover my flight and visa fees. Chamara unconvincingly claimed he didn’t have any money yet and I’d need to wait for a day or two. Every day he’d tell me I had to wait just a little bit longer but I was welcome to stay at his resort. It seemed like he wasn’t going to pay but I had time so did not budge an inch. After over one week wait, he indeed paid me enough to cover the return flights and visa. I left minutes after that. Getting on a bus and leaving Balapitiya forever, I felt an instant relief.
From Balapitiya, I moved to Weligama where I spent delightful two weeks on my own
The next day, the nightmares of the daily life seemed so far away that almost unreal. Over the following week, I’d still receive messages from my friends remaining at the Mountain Villa. They were having a really tough time taking care of the volunteers: forced to spend whole day long, day after day, accompanying the Chinese groups in their activities and getting dead bored and tired by just watching them whole day. Over 1.5 weeks, they taught just one yoga class each.
Volunteers carrying sand in the scorching sun
My friends confirmed what I already knew: that the whole volunteering project was just a big scam: everything was poorly organised, the participants either waited for hours with nothing to do or were given Sisyphus tasks such as carrying heavy bags of sand from the beach to the hatchery. They were clearly not happy with the arrangements either and often vented their frustration on Eva and Iza. I did symphatise with the girls waiting for their moment to get away all the while wondering how could I have stayed there for so long myself.
I spent three last week in Sri Lanka reunited with my husband, discovering this beautiful country
After leaving Balapitiya, I spent two lovely weeks at another village, further up the coast, finally enjoying being a master of my time. Incredibly, I met a Dutch surfer who without any initiative from my side offered to pay me generously for one-to-one yoga sessions. In fact, it was enough to survive those two weeks absolutely free of cost. I could not stop wondering how the abundance came the moment I stopped clinging to money. Then my husband came over and we had a fantastic three weeks travelling through Sri Lanka and meeting some really nice people.
Even now, I’m still of two minds regarding the interpretation of my choices over that month. On one hand, I believe it was my right to get the promised money back: after all, I was purposefully misled in the first place (on many levels). On the other, I considered myself a failure, compromising my ideals and my peace of mind just for monetary gain.
Was I right to stay? I’m still of two minds
Some time after the girls left the project, having successfully fought tooth and nail for their fare share, we heard the news from another teacher who joined the project after I already left. Amelia was a British girl who, unlike our East-European group, didn’t have a rebellious nature and wasn’t so vocal about her rights. She did anything Chamara expected her to do without complaining, even with a smile. It seemed he really started liking her, to the extend she didn’t appreciate anymore. Once she decided to leave, Chamara threatened her and even physically locked up in the hotel. She was his last remaining worker and he needed her desperately to stay till the end of the season. Amelia related her story in a very laconic form but it still sounded really serious and very scary. I should consider myself lucky coming out of this situation without any mental scars or any sort of loss.
In retrospect, I’m glad I went through this experience. For once, it taught me a lot about myself and my weak points. I also discovered that intentions sometimes matter more than the outcome of the actions. To be completely true to myself and at peace with my conscience, I still need to do what I promised myself back in December: do everything I possibly can to warn people about profit-oriented and unethical volunteer projects, in Sri Lanka and elsewhere.
I believe turtles and any other creatures deserve better than to be treated as cute toys
If you consider joining a paid volunteering project, ask yourself: Why do I have to pay to help out? Is my help really needed? And who is going to benefit from that money? There is a Polish saying that hell is paved with good intentions. Use the critical thinking to make sure your good intentions don’t lead to undeserved results.
Padmakshi's Diary 