I met Ketut Sukadana in November 2001 while visiting Bali, Indonesia. It was only two months after the terrorist attacks in the United States, war raged in Afghanistan, and the world economy was in a shambles. Bali was almost completely devoid of tourists and the locals were desperate.

Everywhere I traveled, hotel rooms stood empty. Restaurants and street stalls were vacant. Street vendors, long dependent on a steady stream of tourist dollars, were on my heels at every turn, beseeching me to buy woodcarvings, jewelry, t-shirts -- things of value only to tourists, and only when they were in town to buy them.

Although this daily onslaught made my trip somewhat stressful, I could sympathize with the islanders' predicament. Their main economy was tourism and the dollars it provided. With no job alternatives, no tangible assets and no social safety net, their situation was grim and their pain was real. I'll always remember an eight-year-old girl who followed me for a quarter mile, trying to wear down my resistance to buy some trinket.

Against this backdrop, while wandering in search of a room, I met Ketut. He was driving the streets, looking for a fare. While he was grateful to find a paying customer, he was one of the few drivers I found who did not aggressively try to guide me to hotels to receive a kickback. I trusted him and hired him to take me around the island for a few days.

Ketut, 30, is representative of an average Balinese. His father is a rice farmer who works a small plot of land with the help of Ketut's older sister. Born in a small village on the eastern side of the island, the youngest of six children, he left school at age 13 when his father could not afford to pay for his secondary education.

Like many in his generation, Ketut left his rural village for the busy tourist center to gain employment. He married two years ago and wants to have a baby. He maintains strong ties with his family and returns home often for the religious festivals that form the backbone of Balinese society. His village is not just his spiritual home. It's a place to return when money runs low, and he can work for food on his father's rice paddy.

Ketut and his wife live in a 10-by-10-foot apartment in the capital city of Denpesar, a 20-minute drive from the tourist center. Their apartment rents for $20 US a month, has no air conditioning, and is large enough to accommodate a bed and little else. Until recently, his wife worked for a local garment factory that was forced to shut its doors. Now, Ketut is the sole income earner.

It's a challenging life. Each morning, he drives his motorcycle to Kuta to pick up a taxi. His arrangement with the taxi company means he will rent a car for $15 a day and burn up $5 of gasoline driving around town looking for tourists. He takes the financial hit on slow days, as the taxi company assumes none of the risk. "It's like a lottery," he says. "Some days, I lose money. Others, I break even."

Competition is fierce, now more than ever. Many tourists choose to walk the fairly compact city and do not venture to Bali's further reaches. Short rides around town may yield $1 US, or a coveted ride to the airport around $3. If he's lucky, a culturally inclined customer will hire him to tour the artisan villages of Ubud, about an hour away, for $10.

When business was good, these petty sums delivered a consistent income that could pay his overhead. Now, 16-hour days cruising the streets or waiting by hotels does not guarantee that enough paying customers will meet his costs of taxi rental and gasoline.

Ketut is no different than much of the population. Although the Balinese tend to earn more than most of the population in Indonesia, much of the population is poor by Western standards. A hotel worker might earn $5 US a day, a construction worker much less. The only people who enjoy the income levels that ensure a decent standard of living are those fortunate enough to have acquired land before property values skyrocketed, or those with an entrepreneurial instinct who build businesses.

When I learned about his predicament, I asked myself if I could help Ketut market himself more successfully, and possibly help him run his own small business as an entrepreneur. This kind of arrangement would lead to more income. It's an easy assessment, but a much more challenging proposition.