One step closer

This is my dream. My dream is to bring you and Argentine together. I know your lives are a million miles apart. And she lives in a place that you can barely imagine.

But you and she have more in common than you may realize.

She sews beautiful bags that you have gone out of your way to buy. And the money you spend on those bags, is helping her to create real change in her own life and in those of others.

I can't wait until she can tell you about it herself.

Because in the end it is not about bags, no matter how beautiful they are, but about creating connections between people.

So check out our store today. We've got brand new stock, but more importantly we're bringing you and Argentine one step closer together...or maybe it is Mapendo you want to connect with. Or Roy or Solange or Riziki. The choice is yours.

Because now you can search our store by craftsperson, and check out the unique talent of each individual.

You'll see that each craftsperson has a unique story, and also a unique talent. Remember each person goes to the market, no small feat on crutches, chooses her own cloth, cuts it by hand, and sews it herself. Each bag she creates is an extension of herself, her beauty, her story.

So try it. First, pick a craftsperson, and go back and read about her life again. Then go to our store and click on her image. You'll see all of the work of her hands. I guarantee it will inspire you.

We're busy working on more ways to connect you directly with these amazing individuals. Pretty soon you'll be able to read a tweet from one of them, instead of from me. And leave one of them a message, instead of me.

Because, we shouldn't live in a world where the stories of the poor and the vulnerable are are always told by other people, no matter how well meaning we are. Doesn't everyone deserve a chance to tell her own story? And, for that matter, to sell her own bags?

This is just one step. But I am celebrating because it is a major step, and one which took a lot of preparation. You see, it is easier to just throw everything together and slap on a corporate logo. Just look at how everyone else does it.

But I am committed to putting in the extra work, so that our craftspeople truly sell their own work. Because a world in which Argentine can sell her own bags, and profit from them, is one where her voice matters. And a world where you can choose whose work to support with your purchase, is a world where your voice matters more. So take a minute, if you can, and check it out. Support our effort to bring us all one step closer together.

Victory

Sometimes it is the small victories that mean the most.

Yesterday Argentine (one of our craftspeople) got sick. She and Mapendo (another craftsperson) live on their own. Argentine began violently throwing up and was unable to stand or dress herself. Mapendo dressed her, went out in search of a motorcycle taxi, half-carried her to the taxi and brought her to the hospital. Remember these are two significantly handicapped young women, who struggle to walk with crutches on the best of days.

Hopitals here are family endeavor. In the hopstial there are doctors and nurses to conduct examinations, administer shots, and perform surgeries. They are not there to clean up after you, take you to the bathroom or bathe you. You, as a patient, must bring your own person to take care of you. Your person is expected to sleep at the hospital with you, usually sharing a bed or sleeping on the floor. This person is almost always a member of your family. Likewise there is no food at the hospital. Everyone must bring their own. THis means that the portion of the family that did not accompany you to the hospital will remain at home and cook for you. Daily they will send pots of food to your bed at the hospital. And they will be sure to send enough food not just for you, but for the famiy members taking care of you.

Argentine has no family in Goma except a younger brother whose school fees she is paying.

Yesterday I did not go to the hospital to see Argentine. After being assured that she was getting better I decided to wait, partly because I had too many other things to do. But partly because I wanted to see how Argentine and Mapendo would do on their own.

I arrived today to discover Argentine doing better and a large plate of beans and rice on the table nearby. Roy's wife (roy is another craftsperson) had brought them food and was keeping them company. And all was well.

So let me put it this way. A young handicapped woman is expected to be dependent on her family even when she is not sick. Everyone in Congo is expected to be dependent on their family when they are sick. Argentine has no family here in Goma to take care of her. Mapendo is talented at sewing, but she is young and often unsure of herself. Yet on her own Mapendo dressed Argentine, cleaned up after her, decided to take her to the hospital, and admitted her to the hospital. On her own, Roy's wife (who is neither family nor tribe) decided to bring them food. On their own, the craftspeople of SHONA have taken care of eachother beautifully. And I did absolutely nothing.

Not only that, but Argentine and Mapendo have both been saving money for healthcare emergencies. They will be able to pay her hospital bill themselves.

After three years here in Congo, these are the victories I am most proud of. The ones where I did nothing.

Saving

The concept of "saving" is hard here. Or perhaps it is just the reality of it. The SHONA women are currently learning about how to estimate their expenses for the coming month and set aside enough money to cover their expenses and any emergencies that might arise during that month. It is a long process, which involves way more math than one might think. I didn't realize how many calcuations I make in my own head, until I tried to teach the concept to someone else, who never went to school. So we are still drilling away at multiplication tables and learning to calculate wholesale costs. But we are getting there pole, pole (slowly, slowly) as the women say.

But the math is only half the battle. Just because you can calculate the correct amount that you need to save, doesn't mean that you will do it.

I have always been a "saver" myself. I remember the cupcakes that children would bring in for their birthdays in kindergarten. I always ate mine from the bottom up, saving the icing for last, long after my classmates had torn through theirs. My hallowen candy always lasted 'till Christmas and my Christmas candy lasted 'till Easter. Literally. Ask my parents.

My husband is the exact opposite. If something good is in the house, then it certainly should not be left to sit there on a shelf. It should be eaten right then and there, because who knows what tomorrow will bring?

I have often been told that my tendency to save food comes from growing up without siblings. I've been told that anyone who grew up in a large household knows that you sit down to the table ready to gobble down whatever you can right away and reach for seconds as quickly as possible. Saving is a luxury. It is for those who live in a world where their carefully hoarded treasure will not be trampled by a younger brother or stolen by an older sister.

And for that reason, the concept of "saving" is hard here. Responsibilities stretch far and wide. Extended families are huge, and often anyone from the same village as you will also be considered family. And if you have any kind of income at all, no matter how small, it is perfectly normal and expected that any member of your large, extended family will ask you for money, food, transportation, school fees, medical fees, or a place to stay at any time. And, as an African, you can't really refuse. So money goes fast.

I find this to be both a beautiful part of the culture here, and a deeply frustrating one. On one hand I have to recognize that the US culture is overly individualistic and isolating. Most people are probably more likely to ask a bank for financial help than a family member. And look at where our credit culture has gotten us. I appreciate the sense of duty to family here. But it truly is extremely difficult for anyone to get ahead here. As soon as you take one step up the ladder the number of hands that pull on you are infinite. Small businesses fail here all too often because the owner feels compelled to answer the increasing demands for help from all sides, only to find that there is no money left to buy new stock.

I once had a conversation with two fairly well-off men. I asked the one how he was doing. And of course he answer "Hakuna...njala"( there is nothing...only hunger). I answered in a surprised tone "really?" as I glanced at the nice car he was driving. And his friend behind him began laughing and agreed "Don't believe him. Everyone says they are hungy here, whether they are or not."

SO how could you possibly expect anyone to save? The person who puts half his income away for a rainy day will only find that ten of his friends and relatives have all arrived with a rainy day in hand. And how can they refuse?

Yet as much as anybody, poor people in Congo need savings. There is no safety net to fall back on here. The SHONA women were incredibly excited when they opened their own bank accounts for the first time. They desperately want to save, and they are managing it, "pole, pole".

But everyday it is a balancing act. Mapendo's mother needs a new house so that she can move out of the refugee camp. Argentine's younger siblings need school fees so that they can return to school. Elda's brother is getting married. Roy's newphew and niece have fled their rural village and need somewhere to live. Quite literally the list could go on all day.

Like most of life, we must find a way to live with this tension. To accept the pull, without being dragged under.

Roy Part II

I met this morning with Roy and his beautiful little girl. They were on their way to testify at a hearing for the man that attacked her. I admire this little girl and her father in their determination to see justice done. Justice requires money here in Congo, perhaps everywhere, but certainly here.

So what can be done for Roy and his family? I have decided to add Roy as the fifth craftsperson with SHONA. He is a man. And so far, I have worked exclusively with women. I believe that handicapped women need to be empowered here in Congo, and when they are put in groups with men, they tend to take the lower position.

But I also believe that Roy's daughters and wife will continue to remain extremely vulnerable as long as he has no means of supporting them. And it seems such an incredible waste for such a talented man to lack work. So Roy will be our fifth handicapped craftsperson. He will rent his own small shop, and work independently from the women.

So we expand in a way that I hadn't planned. But it fits well with the stage that the women are at. The women too are renting their own space and opening their own shops. They have chosen to work in teams of two. It is an exciting stage. As they rent their own workspace and begin to set up shop, the work becomes theirs. And this in the end is the goal.

Roy often says "I'm already getting old and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing to give my children." Hopefully SHONA will allow him to start to build a life, for himself and for his family. Mapendo, our youngest member, recently began building a house for her elderly mother, who has been living in a refugee camp. There is something beautiful in a nineteen year old handicapped woman building her mother a house. There is something equally beautiful in a 40 year old father building his little girl a house. I think the heaviest weight of poverty, is not the price it exacts on us, but the price it exacts on those we love.

For Roy, the price has been heavy. I watched this man leave my house with his daughter in tow, and imagined how hard it must be for both of them to testify. But Roy walks with a lighter step now. He is eager to take on as much work as I can give him, to finish his debts and begin building a life. His little girl has tested negative on all sexually transmitted diseases, she is back in school, and next month Roy will have sewn enough to pay her school fees.

I am always amazed by the small scale of hope. Given the incredible difficulties Roy has faced in the past two weeks, I might expect him to need so much more. But his wife and child are home from the hospital, his little girl is doing ok, and he will be able to take care of them. That is all the hope he needed.

Technology and all that

Many thanks to all the loyal SHONA customers and friends who have visited our new store and updated website. www.shonacongo.com

And many thanks for the technology which has brought us here.

The SHONA women were taken advantage of in the past. Before they joined us, they were part of a sewing group where the manager ate first, and then the men and only at the end were these young women given a cut. But where else could they go? They had no resources to open up their own shops. They had no strong legs to circulate through the market, looking for work. And to be honest, they would have found it hard to convince many customers of their abilities. People see first that they are handicapped, not that they can sew.

But through the miracles of this age, the SHONA women have been able to land themselves in the middle of one the most promising markets of all. the internet. Without having to pay off ten people in the process. The reality that we are able to set up shop online, that we have customers that somehow find us, that we have people across the world who read our stories and care...it is a reality that I wouldn't have dreamed of ten years ago.

Think of all the things you buy everyday. What percentage of the profit from those sales goes to the person who made that item? What percentage of the things you buy are made by a person at all? With the warped speed of technology, in many ways we have lost the personal. Too often our food is cultivated by machines, our clothes are made in assembly lines and when we answer our phones we find machines on the other end. But in another way, the internet has made the world infinitely more personal. I can read status updates on facebook and discover that my friend went to bed at 11:00. I can read status updates on all my former high school students and be scandalized...again and again! I can see pictures of people I went to grammer school with. And you. You can come and visit us, here in Congo.

So please do. Keep reading our blog. Visit our website. www.shonacongo.com

As I exhault in all of this technology, I must admit that I have spent this past week banging my head on the keyboard. As we open our new store online and move away from ebay, I have to figure out how to get traffic to our site. Don't worry there are plenty of resources online. An infinite number of resources with infinite lists of all the things I should do to publicize our website. There are inlinks, outlinks, metatags, search engine submissions, trackbacks, blogrolls...and that is only the beginning.

After a while my eyes start to glaze over. And I go and get a cup of coffee and sit on my balcony for a while to listen to the sounds of Africa and remember where I am. And when I drag myself bag to the computer I remind myself of why I do this. It is so I can introduce you to some incredible women, who deserve this one break.

And I know that if the internet can do anything, it is because it brings us together. SO that I am not really alone staring at this computer wondering how to write a metatag.

So won't you join us? Please share the link to our website! www.shonacongo.com Post it on boards, put it in emails, blogs, websites...As I have come to realize, anything that shows you are reading our website will lead more people to us. And that is all we need.

Empowerment

Empowerment is an unweildy thing.
What empowers you?
What is it in your background, your education, your faith, your culture, that empowers you?

Think about it...it really is a difficult question.

Perhaps in order to see yourself clearly you have to stand in someone else's shoes.

I certainly would never have considered myself a particularly "empowered" person.

But the fact is that I am. When someone mistreats me I am surprised. And indignant. When I face a new task, something I've never done before, I generally give it a try. Yeah, I might screw it up, but I might succeed. Who knows? When I talk to someone, I assume they will listen. Maybe not agree, but listen at least. I assume I can go somewhere new, do something else, or try again on something I've failed before.

But what if you never learned to do those things? In Congo, handicapped women are pretty much on the bottom of the totem pole. They are never seen as adults, because to be an adult woman means to be married and bear children. And handicapped women are unlikely to have the opportunity to marry. But to be a child forever?

So when I see the ladies that I work with, as they struggle for independence, I see the many ways that my life has empowered me. And I wonder what it is like to be treated badly, and not stand up and shout. To not expect more. Of the world...or myself.

And so the SHONA ladies and I, struggle towards the goal of empowerment. And I wish I had some magic formula. I wish empowerment could be handed around on a silver platter. But it is hard work, as it is supposed to be. And they tackle it with both hands. Last month we started an adult education program. The SHONA ladies are currently taking math, French, and a course in "Faith and Action" (studying the lives of people around the world who have demonstrated faith through their actions). As a teacher I don't think I've ever seen more motivated students, and I guess that is the point. That is where empowerment begins.