Last Stretch

We're finishing up here at Rishilpi, and getting ready to head out tomorrow morning back to Dhaka city. Our time here has been fantastic, and has meant much more to everyone than a lot of us initially thought. As I had said in my previous entry, they are completely self-sustained here, but that did not stop them from welcoming us in to their community and teaching their trade with eagerness. I was with the shoemakers, which is the group of people Rishilpi started with (they're the lowest class in Bangladesh, and Rishilpi sought to give them the respect and lifestyle they deserved), Russel, Jimmy, Jena, and Katie worked at the bakery, Mandy, Haera, and Corey at leather crafts, and Ashley and Natalie at embroidery. Although the shoemakers I worked with, Palash, Nitoy, Tapan, and Shibpada could not speak much English, there was an unspoken "get to know you" through their actions and mine as they taught me how to make shoes. At first, there was no need for words at all, and simple hand motions would suffice. For example, I now know that the sign for scissors is universal, and when they throw some shoe pieces your way and some paste, it's pretty self-explanatory as to what they want you to do. They made my time with them as comfortable as possible, even pulling out some of the material they use to make soles for me to sit on instead on the tile floor. What blew me away the most, however, was their humility and their patience. For one, God definately did not make me a natural-born shoemaker, let alone having never operated many of the tools involved. Who knew when I was coming to Bangladesh that it might have been a good idea to know how to use a manual sewing machine, or use a chisel-like tool to manipulate leather? I was terrible at almost every task they put before me, yet no matter how many times I messed up, there was not the slightest twinge of irritation on their face. Even when they had to go so far as to guide whatever instrument I was currently failing to use, they still did not do what would have been the sensible thing, to just tell me to find some other trade and do it themselves. They took delight in teaching me their trade, to teach me how to make shoes.

It was difficult at first to take a step back from the typical, "okay, how can I serve? How can I serve?" mentality that I have been stuck in this entire trip. I was so focused on lifting up those in need by providing some service that I didn't stop to think that maybe the best thing that I can do to show them my compassion is to take an interest in their lives. My professor for intro to psychology at APU told our class that the best way to get someone to like you is not to do something for them, but to ask them to do something for you. There is wisdom in this that has brought on a new meaning to me in my relationships with others since working here at Rishilpi. People don't always want you to be their servant, to be pampered and treated like a baby. People want their dignity, and your respect for whatever it is they have chosen for themselves in life. I honestly feel that I have moved the humble shoemakers of Rishilpi by taking a genuine interest in what it is they are doing right now in their lives, whether it be having Tapan taking an entire work day to teach me how to pedal and guide at the same time on a manual sewing machine, or Palash showing me how to write in Bengali. I never could have reached them and entered into the fellowship I experienced had I given them food, money, or another temporary fix, and then been on my merry way. If I share one thing back at home as to what my experience has taught me, it is that the goal of any service should not be to reach out to the community, which implies keeping a distance, but to become a part of the people.