An Introspection On Island Life
If I could tell my younger self two things about island life it would be:
1. You are going to have so much fun.
2. "Taking it easy" doesn't always mean that it's going to be easy.
I was having a chat with a good friend over some beers and scotch about how nobody ever really talks about this. Everyone's seen the perfect instagram feed and the glamorous and scenic beach shots accompanied by #islandlife, but nobody really warned us that island living could be harsh and maybe the biggest slap in the face of reality we didn't know we needed.
I was 22yrs old when I decided to leave the city where I was born and raised, to move to a little tropical island where I ended up living for four years. The idea was just so romantic. I left my job, my friends, and my family. I took a job as the marketing officer and front desk of a bed and breakfast. I was excited. I was looking forward to waking up to a beautiful beachfront view from the window of my adorable quaint hut, drinking fresh coconut juice everyday, eating fresh seafood and all the tropical fruits and veggies i could ever dream of. I'd get in to water sports, do yoga, fall in love with a nice island boy and live happily ever after.
Here's the reality of island living: if you're moving to an island which is a famous tourist destination, you will still be earning in provincial rates and living in a world of tourist prices. Middle-class guilt will hit you hard and you'll begin to understand the advantages your privilege has given you this far in life which leaves you in a state of chronic unease. There is no way you will be able to afford a quaint apartment with a beachfront view - they don't exist. Beachfront real estate is reserved for expensive villas and resorts. My first "apartment" which cost half my monthly pay (it was a small room with no windows, no shelves and no closet that could only fit a single bed and a fan. When I opened my door from the outside, I could hop to my bed) - was located in the back side of the island. My view was a wall. My bathroom was on the other end of the building and leading me there every night was a path laden with frogs. Your diet (at least during the first few months until you get a bump up in your salary) will consist of instant noodles and canned goods. Ironically, fresh seafood on an island is costly. Activities are expensive. Yoga classes, introduction to kitesurfing, renting a paddleboard - these won't be within your budget if you want to have groceries next week. Dating is bleak. When you live in a place where most people are transient, constructing a genuine connection poses a challenge. There are some (very lucky few) people who meet each other and fall in to a vacation romance strong enough to make them stay on the island or leave together. But generally, as melodramatic as it sounds, people will leave you.
It takes a certain strength to be able to stick it out with this lifestyle if you're someone who grew up in the city. In fact sometimes, when someone new arrives on the island, island folk place bets to see how long that person will last. There will be moments when you think to yourself "why am i still here? I should just go back to the comforts of home and be with my friends and family". It's easy to just pack up and leave once reality hits you. But for me, with every reality check, I acquired a life skill. I learned how to budget my money down to the final cent for rent, groceries, bills, commute, going out, etc.- a concept that was so foreign to me at the time. I learned my way around the local market and learned how to cook. I worked on my people skills. I feel like this is the biggest survival skill I acquired. I was able to meet new people and from there build a network which eventually led me to bigger opportunities. I met people who have been the most incredible friends, mentors, and guardians - some of them I now consider as family. I learned that I didn't have to be constantly moving or have activities lined up to be able to enjoy the day or where I was. I learned how to be present and how to appreciate the simplicity of just sitting by the beach and taking in my surroundings. I learned how important it was to enjoy myself in the company of people, even if they were going to leave once their vacation is done. I savor the conversations and cherish every encounter because you never know how long it's going to last. Might as well make memories and have something wonderful to look back on rather than keep worrying about things you can't control. I learned how to laugh at myself and the stupid things I get myself in to. I learned how to have fun, and how to enjoy my life.
It's been six years now since I left home and opted for the island life. I've moved from Boracay Island in the Philippines and i've been living in Bali, Indonesia for the past two years. Island living is a mental game that i'm still constantly learning and practicing. It's beautiful, people around you are generally less stressed out, you gain appreciation for simpler things, you can walk to the beach everyday. However, like with everything else, there are struggles to face (financial issues, loneliness, homesickness) but these struggles are the exact things that made me stick to this decision and this lifestyle. Because like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, there are lessons to be learned in these experiences. Lessons that can't be learned any other way and experiences I wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.
Editorial photography by @adigunak
Taken at Langudu, Pig Stone Beach, Bali, Indonesia
I'm also on instagram @simonedominique
1. You are going to have so much fun.
2. "Taking it easy" doesn't always mean that it's going to be easy.
I was having a chat with a good friend over some beers and scotch about how nobody ever really talks about this. Everyone's seen the perfect instagram feed and the glamorous and scenic beach shots accompanied by #islandlife, but nobody really warned us that island living could be harsh and maybe the biggest slap in the face of reality we didn't know we needed.
I was 22yrs old when I decided to leave the city where I was born and raised, to move to a little tropical island where I ended up living for four years. The idea was just so romantic. I left my job, my friends, and my family. I took a job as the marketing officer and front desk of a bed and breakfast. I was excited. I was looking forward to waking up to a beautiful beachfront view from the window of my adorable quaint hut, drinking fresh coconut juice everyday, eating fresh seafood and all the tropical fruits and veggies i could ever dream of. I'd get in to water sports, do yoga, fall in love with a nice island boy and live happily ever after.
Here's the reality of island living: if you're moving to an island which is a famous tourist destination, you will still be earning in provincial rates and living in a world of tourist prices. Middle-class guilt will hit you hard and you'll begin to understand the advantages your privilege has given you this far in life which leaves you in a state of chronic unease. There is no way you will be able to afford a quaint apartment with a beachfront view - they don't exist. Beachfront real estate is reserved for expensive villas and resorts. My first "apartment" which cost half my monthly pay (it was a small room with no windows, no shelves and no closet that could only fit a single bed and a fan. When I opened my door from the outside, I could hop to my bed) - was located in the back side of the island. My view was a wall. My bathroom was on the other end of the building and leading me there every night was a path laden with frogs. Your diet (at least during the first few months until you get a bump up in your salary) will consist of instant noodles and canned goods. Ironically, fresh seafood on an island is costly. Activities are expensive. Yoga classes, introduction to kitesurfing, renting a paddleboard - these won't be within your budget if you want to have groceries next week. Dating is bleak. When you live in a place where most people are transient, constructing a genuine connection poses a challenge. There are some (very lucky few) people who meet each other and fall in to a vacation romance strong enough to make them stay on the island or leave together. But generally, as melodramatic as it sounds, people will leave you.
It takes a certain strength to be able to stick it out with this lifestyle if you're someone who grew up in the city. In fact sometimes, when someone new arrives on the island, island folk place bets to see how long that person will last. There will be moments when you think to yourself "why am i still here? I should just go back to the comforts of home and be with my friends and family". It's easy to just pack up and leave once reality hits you. But for me, with every reality check, I acquired a life skill. I learned how to budget my money down to the final cent for rent, groceries, bills, commute, going out, etc.- a concept that was so foreign to me at the time. I learned my way around the local market and learned how to cook. I worked on my people skills. I feel like this is the biggest survival skill I acquired. I was able to meet new people and from there build a network which eventually led me to bigger opportunities. I met people who have been the most incredible friends, mentors, and guardians - some of them I now consider as family. I learned that I didn't have to be constantly moving or have activities lined up to be able to enjoy the day or where I was. I learned how to be present and how to appreciate the simplicity of just sitting by the beach and taking in my surroundings. I learned how important it was to enjoy myself in the company of people, even if they were going to leave once their vacation is done. I savor the conversations and cherish every encounter because you never know how long it's going to last. Might as well make memories and have something wonderful to look back on rather than keep worrying about things you can't control. I learned how to laugh at myself and the stupid things I get myself in to. I learned how to have fun, and how to enjoy my life.
It's been six years now since I left home and opted for the island life. I've moved from Boracay Island in the Philippines and i've been living in Bali, Indonesia for the past two years. Island living is a mental game that i'm still constantly learning and practicing. It's beautiful, people around you are generally less stressed out, you gain appreciation for simpler things, you can walk to the beach everyday. However, like with everything else, there are struggles to face (financial issues, loneliness, homesickness) but these struggles are the exact things that made me stick to this decision and this lifestyle. Because like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, there are lessons to be learned in these experiences. Lessons that can't be learned any other way and experiences I wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.
Editorial photography by @adigunak
Taken at Langudu, Pig Stone Beach, Bali, Indonesia
I'm also on instagram @simonedominique
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