O let me wear secretly…the sacred mark impressed by Your own hand.
Sacred Mark began in 2008, as a job creation program under MCC. Austin spent a lot of his time here in their early days, helping to design the packaging for the handmade soap they were making and setting up booths at local fairs. The initial women all came as graduates from Pobitra and held such a special place in our hearts. Leaving Sacred Mark was probably the most difficult part of leaving Bangladesh, when we moved home in 2010, so I was over the moon to be visiting again!
Sacred Mark is run by a dear friend, Deepa. We were welcomed into their workshop and sat down with her to hear how things are going. After a lovely snack of rice pudding and cha (Black tea with lots of milk and sugar), we toured the soap-making rooms and then up the stairs to where they have added Khanta production.
While there were an encouraging number of new faces, it was such a joy to see some of the original women still working there. They immediately started telling some of the newer women about the shenanigans a certain one of my sons used to get into. Good times! You can read more about Sacred Mark here, including the full poem the name comes from. If you are in the US, you can buy Sacred Mark soap here. You can also follow them on Facebook here.
It was a simple meal of rice, fish curry, vegetable, lentils and salad, but I could feel the love that had been poured into it. We had just left the beautiful women and children at Pobitra and were hungry and a little emotionally drained. There is something about entering raw places with other souls that is both exhilarating and exhausting, and sometimes you need to step away for a moment and nourish your body.
The cook who prepared this meal was a dear friend, well-loved by our family. Seeing his happy smile again nearly undid me. As my eyes took in the spread before us I could feel the love with which he had created each dish.
I sat in the company of my brave female travelers, and our driver. We broke protocol here, as men and women traditionally do not eat together, and drivers most certainly do not eat with their passengers. (I will introduce him later, though I can hardly wait. He deserves his own post!) It was the first rice meal that some of our group had ever eaten with their fingers, and they dug right in. Our driver became the teacher, showing our youngest member exactly how to do it.
Cross Cultural Lesson 101 – Enter into each new environment as a learner. Any culture that is different from ours, has so much wisdom to teach us and beauty to share with us. It is humbling to have to start with something so basic as learning how to eat, but it put us exactly where we needed to be. We went as learners and came home richer for it.