Sudamala Seasalt Soap

“Bali Beachfront Mystery”

This simple, off-white bar of soap comes in an odd, ornate, silver tin box, too flimsy for any other use except maybe to bury a deceased pet mouse or small gerbil. There's a simple round tag attached with minimal information, the name, and then: “Handmade in Bali, Indonesia.” I looked up Sudamala, and got tired of searching beyond a resort by that name, in Bali. There is a company address, literally too small to read, and the minimal ingredients, coconut oil being the first one, then some other oil I never heard of (oh, I looked it up, and it's African palm oil), and a few other things, glycerin, and sea salt. There is no fragrance to speak of. No added fragrance. Some people—a lot of people—prefer products with no added fragrance, and I can understand that—particularly with things like lotions and detergents, but with soap, it's one of my chief pleasures in life. I won't be insensitive and say it's a mental thing, because when people infer that my wheat gluten intolerance is a mental thing, or a fad, or a choice, it really irritates me—seeing how I was there, and I was the one who almost died. So I respect sensitivity to fragrance. I wonder if people who are highly sensitive to fragrance can detect the subtle fragrance inherent in anything—nothing is totally fragrance-free. This soap, for instance, it does have a very particular smell (as with other fragrance-free soaps), and I'm guessing it's the smell of the coconut and palm oil. It's slightly unpleasant to me—or is at first—but as I use the soap, I start to appreciate it more and more just for what it is, and ultimately I really kind of love it. Every time I use this soap, I like to just take it in. It reminds me of a place, maybe just cleaned, and I can feel the space, it's a little bit mysterious. Or maybe it's a person—and all people, if you take the time to look, are mysterious—each one with their own tragic agenda, and magic tricks for keeping it all afloat.

Soap Review No. 84