A Patchwork of Color Spun From a Thread of Hope

Yesterday we had the privilege of visiting a partner project, Sabalamby Unnayan Samity (SUS). SUS is a unique and remarkable NGO; it is self-sufficient and does not rely on donors to keep it going. We were able to drink tea with Appa (a term of respect that literally means older sister) who helped start the project and I was touched by the love and concern she has for her women. When she heard that I am a housewife, she said it was good and that in my country it is a respectable position. But here it is not, in the sense that housewives are not given much dignity. Her vision, in starting the project, has been to empower women to discover the dignity that truely is theirs. SUS now employs over 200 producers, mostly women. Here is a glimpse of a few of them and what they do, starting with spinning cotton thread which is then woven into yards of cloth.

Here a young lady is patiently applying hot wax to make a design on what will eventually be a very colorful sari. Below is more batik being done.

Here a large piece of fabric is being dyed. They make all their own dyes, many of which are vegetable based. In another room they have a group of tailors, sewing anything from lampshades to cute little dresses. Another room had a group of women weaving stools and tea strainers. Unfortunately for you, most of their products are sold here in country. I was thrilled to find some lovely blue and green pieces of fabric which I hope to sucessfully have made into salwar chamises. The boys were thrilled to find some cute fabric lizards which they thought about putting in Grandma's living room, to see if she will think it's real.

It took us a good 45 minutes to drive out to the project, giving me time to enjoy the emerald patchwork quilts of the rice fields. At times the fields gave way to towns, filled with throngs of people, some ancient concrete buildings, lots of smaller tin structures, tiny streets bulging with shops, rickshaws, tea stalls and much much more. We stopped in front of a large pile of watermelons while our driver graciously scoured the local shops for plastic bags (which were technically outlawed a number of years ago - go Bangladesh!) for Jensen who was having the worst case of car sickness ever. It took him a while to find a shop that had them, giving us ample opportunity to observe the tide of people moving past, as well as to be observed by many friendly faces. Then we were on to the open fields again. Aah, those lovely green stalks, waving in the breeze, speaking to us of hope and of harvest. Reminding us that change is possible. Muddy fields can turn into emerald quilts if given the right seeds and blessed with rain and sunshine. Hopeless lives can become beautiful things if given the right seeds and blessed with love and dignity.