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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.