It was just after 5 PM on a Saturday evening in the dazzling Valia Hotel in Bangkok, Thailand. The WOSSO Linking and Learning session was winding down, but the excitement was just about to peak—our final dinner was fast approaching. Standing by the lift on the 18th floor, Ayushmita and I were part of a chaotic yet delightful fellowship of women waiting to return to our rooms to prepare for the night. Little did I know, this ordinary elevator ride would turn into an extraordinary story of sisterhood.
The lift doors closed, and soon it was just Ayushmita and me. "What are you wearing tonight?" she asked with the seriousness of a dinner planner who meant business. I laughed nervously, confessing my fashion faux pas: I’d already worn my intended dinner dress to the AWID dinner. Rookie mistake! "I guess I’ll just show up looking like I’ve lost my luggage," I joked.
With the wisdom of a sister who knows what’s up, Ayushmita smiled warmly and said, “I’m wearing a sari tonight. I brought two. Would you like to wear the other one?”
Excuse me? A sari? I’d never worn one before, and my brain raced. The sari is a garment of tradition, elegance, and significance, Google had taught me. Its roots run deep across India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal. This wasn’t just fabric—it was history, culture, and identity. “Are you sure? Is it okay for me, as a Black African woman, to wear this?” I asked, my voice tinged with awe and hesitation.
Her reply was a reassuring melody: “Yes, of course! It doesn’t matter. You can wear the sari.” Her smile radiated warmth and encouragement, melting away my doubts.
The lift ride became a discovery mission. Turns out, we lived just a floor apart—me on the second, her on the third. Ayushmita suggested we go to her room to see the sari. This woman meant business, and I was here for it!
We stepped into her room, and she unveiled the garment. It was stunning. My excitement surged again, blending with the honor I felt. This was happening! She handed it to me, and I returned to my room to freshen up, promising to come back in 30 minutes.
When I returned, she was ready. With the skill and care of an artist, she began to dress me. First, the skirt beneath. Then came a crash course in sari secrets: how to fold my top under my bra to create the perfect cropped silhouette. I soaked up every bit of her knowledge like a sponge.
And then, the wrapping began. Oh, the wrapping! With every fold and tuck, I felt layers of magic enveloping me. The sari transformed me. It was a spiritual experience—like stepping into a new identity while honoring its roots. It was a moment of sisterhood I’ll cherish forever.
When I joined the others for dinner, my breath was taken away. Everyone looked stunning in their saris, each one radiating beauty and elegance. A huge thank you to the incredible women I shared this moment with—you all were breathtaking. Together, we painted a scene of grace and pride, honoring the evening with every step we took.
In the sari, I felt like a fusion of Miriam Makeba’s regal spirit and Priyanka Chopra’s effortless glamour. I was feeling myself, and it was all thanks to Ayushmita, my sister who made it possible.
To Ayushmita: thank you. For your generosity, wisdom, and the love you showed me that evening. You made me feel beautiful. Shukran and भगवान आपका भला करें.
That night in Thailand, on the the lift of the Valia Hotel, we built a tale of cross-cultural sisterhood that will forever remain in my heart.
