As we wake up this morning, we hurry to call Amber before she leaves for school. It is her 16th birthday today. To think this beautiful young woman with the shy smile and deep black eyes was only born 16 years ago is to boggle the elderly (mine) mind. I think we called too early, because she seemed very sleepy. We are so lucky to have both our wonderful granddaughters. I don't know how we lived without them before!
We have two appointments with artisans today, one in Ilumán, where we are staying, in the afternoon, and one in the morning in Carabuela, only two miles away. Both artisan families are making children's sweaters. We took the bus to Otavalo to meet Romel, the country rep here and then took the bus with him to Carabuela (nearly returning from where we came in the process). We crossed a giant steel overpass to get from the bus to the town across the busy divided highway. There in the middle was an inexplicable mystery. A broken (clean) toilet lay in the walkway. Romel and I had the same thought--that they had been carrying it to install in a house in the little town, dropped it and broken it and had seen no point in carrying the heavy thing any further, now that it was useless. Vincent said, "No, someone just left it behind." Alternatively, perhaps they planned to return and bombard trucks on the highway.
As we walked to the Ruiz' family home, Romel told us the history of their workshop. They had worked with another artisan family for a number of years. They were responsible for creating the designs for all the workers in that other shop. At one point, the owner of the other workshop sold or gave away all their sweater designs to other artisans. They broke away from that group and started selling their own designs themselves. They sell in the market in Otavalo on Saturdays, mostly animal hats, and most of their sweaters to Minga Imports.
Romel found them in Carabuela in 2012, a town which is known for making sweaters, by going from house to house looking for artisans who wanted to make children's sweaters. He eventually found one family who knew of the Ruiz' workshop and they established a relationship with Minga over time.
Daniel was out today, working on a minga (a community work project), so his wife Marlena met us at the door, a sweet, shy young woman of 33 years. She wanted to know why we were there, as Minga had never sent anyone to interview them before. We explained that it was a new project and that Minga was hoping to help her sell more product by using their story in marketing materials. We hope that, too, we told her.
She warmed up a lot after that, realizing, I think, that they were not in trouble, but just the opposite. She yearns for her three daughters to have good lives, and to that end, she and her husband work very hard making and selling sweaters for other children. Marlena's parents taught her to make sweaters at age 5. She married at 17, which she says shyly, "was young." She and her husband started in the trade when they married sixteen years ago. She likes designing and she also tells us, she likes "working day and night." We checked to be sure we had heard correctly. She said that right now they have a lot of orders (March is generally a busy month for fair trade producers, because that is when most of the fair trade companies order production for the Christmas season), and they sometimes work until 3 a.m. When they have a lot of orders, they engage their families to help them. When they have few, they help their families with orders.
They started with plain and striped sweaters, which are easier. Now they make a lot of complicated designs. They both like to make new designs, and in this copycat culture, that's a very good thing. It takes two days to produce a sample of a sweater in one of the new designs, and once we have seen the process, we understand why. Although the five or six parts of the sweater are made on knitting machines, they are made one by one. The design is graphed square by square in the correct colors to make the pattern. This means that every row has a different pattern of colors, and each one of the knitting hooks is counted and the yarn changed at various spots. Then the pieces are crocheted together, then with a crochet hook, they edge the bottom with scallops, the pocket opening and the outlines of the designs. In a fascinating way, the pocket is actually woven into the front of the sweater. Then the zipper and any buttons or ties are added. Marlena says that once they have made a number of the new designs it can go quicker, but still the process is incredibly labor-intensive and detailed.
She says their sweaters are made with "cariño"--love. She hopes they can sell more, so that she can take good care of her children with the extra work. I vow to sell as many as I can next Christmas.
We went back to Ilumán for lunch and afterwards met Romel to visit Joaquin and Anita de la Torre around 4 p.m. We arrived just before their four sons returned from school. Joaquin, 41, and Anita, 34, seem very content with their work. Joaquin loves the colors, loves to combine them into a pattern on the knitting machines. Anita loves the finishing, and she demonstrates finishing a sweater as we talk. It comes together like a butterfly unfolding its wings for the first time. It is just incredible to watch her hands fly while she chats and jokes with her husband.
Joaquin likes to design because he has a lot of imagination. He just finished a design with a dog on it. He says it is not the same drawing the design on paper and executing it. Each stitch in each row has to be counted. He says it's hard now to get the materials, as most of the factories don't want to make the 50% cotton/50% wool yarn their customers require. They have to special order everything. This sheds light on our morning's visit with Marlena, who says sometimes the yarn orders take longer to arrive than expected, then they have to work hard to catch up to the orders.
He also said that the factories now demand payment in advance. This was hard for them to afford, especially as orders increased. Minga is now helping them by paying the deposit for the yarn and deducting the cost of the yarn from the invoice for the finished sweaters. Right now they have a big order from Minga due in June and they are concentrating on that, not seeking orders from anyone else until this is finished. He says it is too complicated to be working on two sweater designs at once.
When they speak of the future, it is with both hope and worry. Anita says she hopes that all their kids can finish high school or college so they can have better jobs and have more life choices. Joaquin says he hopes this job never ends, as they don't know how to do any other jobs, having little education themselves. Anita started working on sweaters with her parents at age 4. Joaquin appeals to our customers, "Please buy more sweaters, as we don't have any other work and need to have money to help our families." It's not a begging or a plea for sympathy--it's the simple truth.
We leave their home wanting to help as much as we can these kind people who work so hard, sometimes till 3 a.m., just to feed themselves and their children. Surely we can find a way to sell more of them this year. Anyone for a kids' sweater house party?
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Friday, March 6, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015 Old Dogs Can Learn New Tricks
Today is laundry day, among other things. We spent most of the day typing up reports and writing up interviews. In the morning, something happened that helped me understand many of the failures I have experienced in a new light. I feel hopeful that change can happen, now that I see the pattern. It is one common to many women, as we have been taught to ignore our own needs and take care of others'. This doesn't work very well, as the compassion necessary to take care of others comes from the felt recognition of our own needs. I'm committed to changing that pattern in my own life and helping others change it (if they wish) in theirs.
So many of the people we have interviewed this week have shown me how beautiful life can be, even in the face of poverty, when there is hope. What a gift this is, this hope that blossoms from mud and ordure! The fact that change can come, even so late in one's life, is powerfully inspiring. Perhaps there are still things I can contribute, still gifts I can give. There is a wide space opening out to me. I am grateful. And if failure and pain was what it took to get me here, they are worth it.
So many of the people we have interviewed this week have shown me how beautiful life can be, even in the face of poverty, when there is hope. What a gift this is, this hope that blossoms from mud and ordure! The fact that change can come, even so late in one's life, is powerfully inspiring. Perhaps there are still things I can contribute, still gifts I can give. There is a wide space opening out to me. I am grateful. And if failure and pain was what it took to get me here, they are worth it.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Feb. 5 Transforming Hope
After breakfast, the four of us started hiking for the bus to the Maldonado home. Providentially, Chris saw someone on the street, another artisan, whom he knew. Carlos was pleased to drive us to our destination, and on the way, Chris was able to discuss a packing problem that Carlos had with the "Panama" hats he makes.
I'll just remind you of the hats' interesting story. They are--and have always been--made in Ecuador. The grass, pajatoquilla (PA-ha-toe-KEE-ya), grows near the western coast of Ecuador. When the international team of scientists came here to map the exact location of the equator, they bought the hats and some of them later went to Panama to help build the Canal. Others bought them as they were very useful in the hot sun, and people assumed the hats they saw had come from Panama. (Another version is that Teddy Roosevelt saw the Canal workers wearing them and mislabeled them Panama hats.)
Whatever really happened, Minga sells hundreds of these nearly indestructible and quite fashionable straw hats made by Carlos and his team. Carlos and Chris spent the ride up into the countryside discussing packing options.
We arrived at the home of Luis and Maria Maldonado, were warmly greeted by them and a very young couple, their daughter Alicia and husband Oscar and their small child. It seems that the five of them live in this house with perhaps some others who were introduced as visiting or not introduced at all. Maria invited us into her home and found four kindergarten size stools for us to occupy while Luis and she related their story. They have been knitting sweaters for dogs for about 18 years. The designs are their own. Fifteen years ago, they approached a U.S. company which began marketing their designs in the U.S. and beyond. All went well for several years until their go-between's brother died. This necessitated his moving out of the area, and they had to find another interpreter. They both speak Quichua and limited Spanish.
A couple from the U.S. approached them and signed them up to make the sweaters for another company (to remain nameless). The couple's names were D and L. The abuses began then. First of all, they never had a contract with this company. The Maldonados would fulfill an order and then wait up to four weeks for payment. When we met with them, they were desperate. They had not been paid since they delivered their last order to D and L's company which was June, 2014--seven months! They had not received any further orders. Furthermore, D and L were patenting for themselves the designs the Maldonados had worked on for many months. They were nearly in tears telling this story and it obviously brought them down to recall it. The poverty of our surroundings began to make sense to us. They had next to no furniture, the room we met in had no light bulb until Chris borrowed one from the main room. Romel told us they had said to him they would have to go looking for work tomorrow, as they had next to nothing left. The walls were rough cinder block, the floor bare cement, with only two grass mats at the door to keep out the mud.
After a while of talking, the daughter demonstrated using a spinning wheel and yarn frame standing just inside the front door to demonstrate how she wound a handful of yarn onto a spool. It gave me such a strange feeling to see the exact same equipment and process I had seen with silk in Laos and cotton in Guatemala!
They invited Vincent to come in and take photos of their workshop. It nearly broke his heart, and mine, too, when I heard about it. It was a small room with several hand knitting machines such as we had seen used to make the pieces for the animal hats. There was no yarn at all in the room, no supplies, completely empty except for the machines.
While this was going on, Chris was talking to Luis about how to get going in production again. They belong to a neighborhood co-op that might give them a loan if they had an order, or so I surmised. So in order to connect to the internet, Luis drove us all in his pickup back to our hotel in Otavalo.
When we were able to connect to the internet, we looked up the company for whom they had worked and found several of their designs being offered for sale. That necessitated that they come up with some new designs to avoid any potential conflict--even though the designs were their own. We think they came up with some good ideas, and they will be sending photos of samples with different colors by internet (which their daughter has access to) to Minga. Orders will come from that, we hope, and the samples will be included in the next shipment from Ecuador and paid for at that time.
The more we talked and Chris explained the procedures employed by Minga, the lighter their faces and spirits seemed to become. Just before they left to go home, Vincent had Chris translate for them the sentiments of all of us--that we hoped and prayed things would get better for them, that they would have enough work, and that their beautiful designs would get a wide audience. Every single one of us was in tears at the end of that session.
This, after all, is the reason we sometimes get up at 1, 2, or 3 a.m. to get ready for a sales event, selling fair trade crafts. Yes, there are other artisans working who are not in such dire straits. However, many of them HAVE been in this situation, where they do not know from where the next meal is coming, and we are so blessed to have the opportunity to help them change their and their children's circumstances. You only have to look at the before and after pictures to understand our joy.
After lunch, Hector Guevara brought some samples of children's cotton summer dresses to the restaurant where we were eating. Chris gave him some feedback about how to change the samples to make them more saleable and we rushed back to the hotel, since we were late for the next artisan meeting.
We met with Martha Constante, who works with knitters to make wool sweaters and mittens. She brought one sample which I thought was quite ingenious. She had designed a cable pattern that was incorporated at the neckline, looking like a row of calla lilies all around the neck of the sweater. It was not attached, but a part of the sweater. We connected to the internet, albeit slowly, and were able to see the feedback from the U.S. about how her samples had sold at the latest show and what the office staff thought of each one. Her group's work is very fine, the wool very soft and not at all scratchy, as I am used to wool being. The designs are quite attractive, I think. This was the first time we had an introduction into how Chris determines prices--it's a back and forth negotiation, and Martha was a fine sparring partner for him.
Vincent asked her how many women worked for her, and she replied, "mil quinientos" or 1,500. We could not believe it and went into an extensive discussion of how she figures this. She has a list of 1,500 women she has worked with over the years. She can call on them when she has an order. They do not all work at once, but she has a network of leaders in several villages. Each leader manages up to forty women. She learns from Martha how to make the sweater and then teaches those in her group. Through the leaders, Martha has an idea of the skills of each group, so she assigns various ones to different groups, depending upon their skills. We simply marveled at the consistent high quality of their work, with so many different groups working on the same things. Martha has to be not only a skilled negotiator but an indefatigable organizer. She visits dozens of homes each week out in the countryside.
Vincent also asked her what inspired her to create new designs. Her face lit up and she said that anything can inspire her--a piece of fabric, something she saw in a magazine. It is her favorite part of the work. She loves to create new designs.
Chris gave her an order for samples before she left, and suddenly she did not look as tired and worn to me as she had when she came in.
It was dark when Martha returned to her home. Fernando and Yolanda, the clothing designers, had invited Chris to a meal at a friend's home, and Vincent and I tagged along. After the stark home of the Maldonados, this one was overwhelming. Although it was simply furnished, it was massive, with whitewashed walls and pine log rafters and beautiful tile floors. Peruvian wool wallhangings decorated several walls, and the lamps were sculpted clay, pierced and polished coconut shells and other amazing things. This home was in an enclave of Americans, Canadians and Europeans similar to a gated community back home, sans gate, but wayyyyyyy back in the countryside. When the lights came on we could see three towns spread out on the hills around us, Cotacachi among them. Fields of corn surrounded the complex.
The contrast between the beginning of the day and the end of it was inescapable. It truly is a world full of stark contrasts and some definite inequalities. Still, I was so blessed to be present as the Maldonados were given back their hope.
I'll just remind you of the hats' interesting story. They are--and have always been--made in Ecuador. The grass, pajatoquilla (PA-ha-toe-KEE-ya), grows near the western coast of Ecuador. When the international team of scientists came here to map the exact location of the equator, they bought the hats and some of them later went to Panama to help build the Canal. Others bought them as they were very useful in the hot sun, and people assumed the hats they saw had come from Panama. (Another version is that Teddy Roosevelt saw the Canal workers wearing them and mislabeled them Panama hats.)
Whatever really happened, Minga sells hundreds of these nearly indestructible and quite fashionable straw hats made by Carlos and his team. Carlos and Chris spent the ride up into the countryside discussing packing options.
We arrived at the home of Luis and Maria Maldonado, were warmly greeted by them and a very young couple, their daughter Alicia and husband Oscar and their small child. It seems that the five of them live in this house with perhaps some others who were introduced as visiting or not introduced at all. Maria invited us into her home and found four kindergarten size stools for us to occupy while Luis and she related their story. They have been knitting sweaters for dogs for about 18 years. The designs are their own. Fifteen years ago, they approached a U.S. company which began marketing their designs in the U.S. and beyond. All went well for several years until their go-between's brother died. This necessitated his moving out of the area, and they had to find another interpreter. They both speak Quichua and limited Spanish.
A couple from the U.S. approached them and signed them up to make the sweaters for another company (to remain nameless). The couple's names were D and L. The abuses began then. First of all, they never had a contract with this company. The Maldonados would fulfill an order and then wait up to four weeks for payment. When we met with them, they were desperate. They had not been paid since they delivered their last order to D and L's company which was June, 2014--seven months! They had not received any further orders. Furthermore, D and L were patenting for themselves the designs the Maldonados had worked on for many months. They were nearly in tears telling this story and it obviously brought them down to recall it. The poverty of our surroundings began to make sense to us. They had next to no furniture, the room we met in had no light bulb until Chris borrowed one from the main room. Romel told us they had said to him they would have to go looking for work tomorrow, as they had next to nothing left. The walls were rough cinder block, the floor bare cement, with only two grass mats at the door to keep out the mud.
After a while of talking, the daughter demonstrated using a spinning wheel and yarn frame standing just inside the front door to demonstrate how she wound a handful of yarn onto a spool. It gave me such a strange feeling to see the exact same equipment and process I had seen with silk in Laos and cotton in Guatemala!
They invited Vincent to come in and take photos of their workshop. It nearly broke his heart, and mine, too, when I heard about it. It was a small room with several hand knitting machines such as we had seen used to make the pieces for the animal hats. There was no yarn at all in the room, no supplies, completely empty except for the machines.
While this was going on, Chris was talking to Luis about how to get going in production again. They belong to a neighborhood co-op that might give them a loan if they had an order, or so I surmised. So in order to connect to the internet, Luis drove us all in his pickup back to our hotel in Otavalo.
When we were able to connect to the internet, we looked up the company for whom they had worked and found several of their designs being offered for sale. That necessitated that they come up with some new designs to avoid any potential conflict--even though the designs were their own. We think they came up with some good ideas, and they will be sending photos of samples with different colors by internet (which their daughter has access to) to Minga. Orders will come from that, we hope, and the samples will be included in the next shipment from Ecuador and paid for at that time.
The more we talked and Chris explained the procedures employed by Minga, the lighter their faces and spirits seemed to become. Just before they left to go home, Vincent had Chris translate for them the sentiments of all of us--that we hoped and prayed things would get better for them, that they would have enough work, and that their beautiful designs would get a wide audience. Every single one of us was in tears at the end of that session.
This, after all, is the reason we sometimes get up at 1, 2, or 3 a.m. to get ready for a sales event, selling fair trade crafts. Yes, there are other artisans working who are not in such dire straits. However, many of them HAVE been in this situation, where they do not know from where the next meal is coming, and we are so blessed to have the opportunity to help them change their and their children's circumstances. You only have to look at the before and after pictures to understand our joy.
After lunch, Hector Guevara brought some samples of children's cotton summer dresses to the restaurant where we were eating. Chris gave him some feedback about how to change the samples to make them more saleable and we rushed back to the hotel, since we were late for the next artisan meeting.
We met with Martha Constante, who works with knitters to make wool sweaters and mittens. She brought one sample which I thought was quite ingenious. She had designed a cable pattern that was incorporated at the neckline, looking like a row of calla lilies all around the neck of the sweater. It was not attached, but a part of the sweater. We connected to the internet, albeit slowly, and were able to see the feedback from the U.S. about how her samples had sold at the latest show and what the office staff thought of each one. Her group's work is very fine, the wool very soft and not at all scratchy, as I am used to wool being. The designs are quite attractive, I think. This was the first time we had an introduction into how Chris determines prices--it's a back and forth negotiation, and Martha was a fine sparring partner for him.
Vincent asked her how many women worked for her, and she replied, "mil quinientos" or 1,500. We could not believe it and went into an extensive discussion of how she figures this. She has a list of 1,500 women she has worked with over the years. She can call on them when she has an order. They do not all work at once, but she has a network of leaders in several villages. Each leader manages up to forty women. She learns from Martha how to make the sweater and then teaches those in her group. Through the leaders, Martha has an idea of the skills of each group, so she assigns various ones to different groups, depending upon their skills. We simply marveled at the consistent high quality of their work, with so many different groups working on the same things. Martha has to be not only a skilled negotiator but an indefatigable organizer. She visits dozens of homes each week out in the countryside.
Vincent also asked her what inspired her to create new designs. Her face lit up and she said that anything can inspire her--a piece of fabric, something she saw in a magazine. It is her favorite part of the work. She loves to create new designs.
Chris gave her an order for samples before she left, and suddenly she did not look as tired and worn to me as she had when she came in.
It was dark when Martha returned to her home. Fernando and Yolanda, the clothing designers, had invited Chris to a meal at a friend's home, and Vincent and I tagged along. After the stark home of the Maldonados, this one was overwhelming. Although it was simply furnished, it was massive, with whitewashed walls and pine log rafters and beautiful tile floors. Peruvian wool wallhangings decorated several walls, and the lamps were sculpted clay, pierced and polished coconut shells and other amazing things. This home was in an enclave of Americans, Canadians and Europeans similar to a gated community back home, sans gate, but wayyyyyyy back in the countryside. When the lights came on we could see three towns spread out on the hills around us, Cotacachi among them. Fields of corn surrounded the complex.
The contrast between the beginning of the day and the end of it was inescapable. It truly is a world full of stark contrasts and some definite inequalities. Still, I was so blessed to be present as the Maldonados were given back their hope.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
January 29 "Keep On Pushing Back the Dark"
Yadira and I practiced conversation for two hours this morning! A very engrossing and ultimately inspiring conversation it was, too. She is a social worker and has worked for the past five years or so for the government. She has seen the dark realities of poverty and racism, the underbelly of alcoholism, drug abuse, child abuse and violence of our unequal system. It hurts her so much to see the tiny children with bruises, in all their innocence looking out at a world that seems to care nothing at all for them. She sometimes asks God why He allows such things, though she knows God is responding with another question--why do you DO them? It is hard sometimes not to despair, not to feel alone, not to feel hopeless about things ever being better.
And so, we took a trip around my "holy stones"--the images and words that those who have gone before have set out as beacons to show the way. As we touched each one, the tears came--for both of us--the darkness so great, so overwhelming. Yet it has never been able to extinguish the light. We might believe it will be extinguished soon, that the darkness is stronger, but the light continues to shine. She gave as examples her father and his older brother. Her mother died when she was ten. He has been responsible for her and her many siblings ever since, taking care of them, being tender with them, being a father. She feels so lucky when she looks at the children she worked with and their parents lost in violence, addiction and suffering. She takes her children to see how the other children have to live so that they will not take their "luck" for granted. Her uncle raised his 8 siblings, caring for them after their mother died when he was thirteen. In spite of his belief that "to be happy, one must not know anything," those 8 children came to adulthood, knowing they were cared for and had a roof, food and beds.
One of my touchstones is the quotation from Martin Luther King, Jr., someone who certainly had experience in pushing back the dark (in the words of a popular Christian song). "The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice." (It sounds lovelier in Spanish). In spite of the darkness of loss of parents, poverty, and many other obstacles, people manage to do what they can to make things better for everyone. God takes all that we do and weaves it into a beautiful tapestry--here Yadira gestured with her hands. We cannot see it except as an image in our minds, but it is there and will be there and has always been there. We are simply a part of the universe wanting to create itself whole. All that we have to do is begin, God will provide all the assistance we need to make things as much better as we can make them, then take our efforts and weave them into the whole.
Moreover, each person influences at least ten other people, who in turn each influence ten and so on. When those around us see that what we do is making things better, they are inspired themselves to do what they can. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never been--and will never be--able to put it out. When capitalism and individualism come to their necessary dead ends, it will not be the end of US. There are better ways to care for the needs of everyone--money is not an end in itself, it isn't even real. Many of the abuses fostered by the current system (so Yadira and I think, you may form your own opinion) stem from confusing money with well-being, even health. The system itself is built to foster over-consumption, inequality and poverty, selfishness and ignorance of others. It is unsustainable. What we do in the meantime, as history bends ever closer to justice, is think of new ideas.
For example, today we spoke of neighborhood newspapers, in which we could share ideas for cooperation to make a better neighborhood (not the vigilantism of the past, but fresh ideas for creating something better than we now have), a store to which people could bring unwanted possessions and take away things they need, staffed by volunteers from the neighborhood. There are many more such ideas floating around waiting to be snatched up and employed. No one solution will be enough, we need many local solutions, and many discussions as we change our minds from within. With tears in our eyes, we vowed silently to begin in our own little corners. I probably lost ten pounds of worry this morning!
Afterwards we spent two hours going over vocabulary words that I might need in the artisan interviews--materials and processes of crafts like weaving and carving. It was quite stimulating, as I began thinking a little bit in Spanish during that time. Immersion has begun!
Vincent and I went to a vegetarian restaurant in the city center this afternoon called Paradise (Paraiso). It is one of several. For $2.20 per person, we had a very nice meal which Vincent loved. He couldn't get over the value. Afterwards, we met with Carlos, who demonstrated and explained the three types of Andean musical instruments. Villages people, remember the charangos? He had a real one, made of the armadillo shell, an antique, as they are mostly made of wood nowadays. He is a skilled string player and also very good with the flutes (quenas) and panflutes. In addition to his teaching, he has his own band. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed this exploration of a new kind of music. Afterwards he brought us to the strangest "museum of art" I've ever seen, I don't know about Vincent. It was full of bizarre representations of the grossest kind, but the people of Cuenca are stoutly defending its existence. It has become a symbol of free speech in a somewhat repressed society. Carlos said even his mother, who started to pray as soon as she walked through the door, accompanied him to the protests to prevent it being shut down. "I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." That's the general attitude. The authorities, of course, think it a blemish on the body politic and want to terminate it. A bit difficult to do, since it is in a private home!
Afterwards, Carlos brought us to the university grounds where we saw many types of birds, including the ever-present picaflores (hummingbirds), flowers and a stunning fountain created by the ceramic artist Eduardo Vega more than ten feet tall entitled "Tree of Life." (Árbol de la Vida) We were simply overcome by the power of this creation, the women at the base of the tree, the amazing colors--terra cotta, turquoise, green, orange, the sound of the fountains bespeaking life to the ears as the picture did to the eyes. Surrounding us the whole time was the amazing variety and vividness of the natural world, the air so clear, birdsong chiming through the sounds of traffic, the liquid sounds of spoken Spanish, a couple embracing on the sidewalk.
This is such a spiritual place, so beautiful the trees, green valleys, mountains, flowers, rushing rivers (there are four in Cuenca), the hanging houses over the river Tomebamba. Our spirits are first overwhelmed with beauty, then lifted, refreshed, encouraged.
It was just such a fun afternoon. We really appreciate our teachers, our hosts, all who have worked so hard to make us welcome and help us acclimatize to Cuenca and to Ecuador. To them we say, "Gracias, and keep on pushing back the dark."
And so, we took a trip around my "holy stones"--the images and words that those who have gone before have set out as beacons to show the way. As we touched each one, the tears came--for both of us--the darkness so great, so overwhelming. Yet it has never been able to extinguish the light. We might believe it will be extinguished soon, that the darkness is stronger, but the light continues to shine. She gave as examples her father and his older brother. Her mother died when she was ten. He has been responsible for her and her many siblings ever since, taking care of them, being tender with them, being a father. She feels so lucky when she looks at the children she worked with and their parents lost in violence, addiction and suffering. She takes her children to see how the other children have to live so that they will not take their "luck" for granted. Her uncle raised his 8 siblings, caring for them after their mother died when he was thirteen. In spite of his belief that "to be happy, one must not know anything," those 8 children came to adulthood, knowing they were cared for and had a roof, food and beds.
One of my touchstones is the quotation from Martin Luther King, Jr., someone who certainly had experience in pushing back the dark (in the words of a popular Christian song). "The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice." (It sounds lovelier in Spanish). In spite of the darkness of loss of parents, poverty, and many other obstacles, people manage to do what they can to make things better for everyone. God takes all that we do and weaves it into a beautiful tapestry--here Yadira gestured with her hands. We cannot see it except as an image in our minds, but it is there and will be there and has always been there. We are simply a part of the universe wanting to create itself whole. All that we have to do is begin, God will provide all the assistance we need to make things as much better as we can make them, then take our efforts and weave them into the whole.
Moreover, each person influences at least ten other people, who in turn each influence ten and so on. When those around us see that what we do is making things better, they are inspired themselves to do what they can. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never been--and will never be--able to put it out. When capitalism and individualism come to their necessary dead ends, it will not be the end of US. There are better ways to care for the needs of everyone--money is not an end in itself, it isn't even real. Many of the abuses fostered by the current system (so Yadira and I think, you may form your own opinion) stem from confusing money with well-being, even health. The system itself is built to foster over-consumption, inequality and poverty, selfishness and ignorance of others. It is unsustainable. What we do in the meantime, as history bends ever closer to justice, is think of new ideas.
For example, today we spoke of neighborhood newspapers, in which we could share ideas for cooperation to make a better neighborhood (not the vigilantism of the past, but fresh ideas for creating something better than we now have), a store to which people could bring unwanted possessions and take away things they need, staffed by volunteers from the neighborhood. There are many more such ideas floating around waiting to be snatched up and employed. No one solution will be enough, we need many local solutions, and many discussions as we change our minds from within. With tears in our eyes, we vowed silently to begin in our own little corners. I probably lost ten pounds of worry this morning!
Afterwards we spent two hours going over vocabulary words that I might need in the artisan interviews--materials and processes of crafts like weaving and carving. It was quite stimulating, as I began thinking a little bit in Spanish during that time. Immersion has begun!
Vincent and I went to a vegetarian restaurant in the city center this afternoon called Paradise (Paraiso). It is one of several. For $2.20 per person, we had a very nice meal which Vincent loved. He couldn't get over the value. Afterwards, we met with Carlos, who demonstrated and explained the three types of Andean musical instruments. Villages people, remember the charangos? He had a real one, made of the armadillo shell, an antique, as they are mostly made of wood nowadays. He is a skilled string player and also very good with the flutes (quenas) and panflutes. In addition to his teaching, he has his own band. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed this exploration of a new kind of music. Afterwards he brought us to the strangest "museum of art" I've ever seen, I don't know about Vincent. It was full of bizarre representations of the grossest kind, but the people of Cuenca are stoutly defending its existence. It has become a symbol of free speech in a somewhat repressed society. Carlos said even his mother, who started to pray as soon as she walked through the door, accompanied him to the protests to prevent it being shut down. "I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." That's the general attitude. The authorities, of course, think it a blemish on the body politic and want to terminate it. A bit difficult to do, since it is in a private home!
Afterwards, Carlos brought us to the university grounds where we saw many types of birds, including the ever-present picaflores (hummingbirds), flowers and a stunning fountain created by the ceramic artist Eduardo Vega more than ten feet tall entitled "Tree of Life." (Árbol de la Vida) We were simply overcome by the power of this creation, the women at the base of the tree, the amazing colors--terra cotta, turquoise, green, orange, the sound of the fountains bespeaking life to the ears as the picture did to the eyes. Surrounding us the whole time was the amazing variety and vividness of the natural world, the air so clear, birdsong chiming through the sounds of traffic, the liquid sounds of spoken Spanish, a couple embracing on the sidewalk.
This is such a spiritual place, so beautiful the trees, green valleys, mountains, flowers, rushing rivers (there are four in Cuenca), the hanging houses over the river Tomebamba. Our spirits are first overwhelmed with beauty, then lifted, refreshed, encouraged.
It was just such a fun afternoon. We really appreciate our teachers, our hosts, all who have worked so hard to make us welcome and help us acclimatize to Cuenca and to Ecuador. To them we say, "Gracias, and keep on pushing back the dark."
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
January 28 Ora Pro Nobis
The end of our schooling is drawing near and we are flogging the books to learn as much as we can. Today was cool and overcast, with a bit of rain in the afternoon (a torrent at one point, but we were inside!) In the morning, Yadira and I had an extensive discussion of how to ask questions of the artesans. I asked her if she thought I had a chance at communicating with them at the level of my Spanish, and she said yes. That was comforting. She took me this morning to a shop where the "Panama" hats are made from a long grass called pajatoquilla. They are not Panama hats--are and have always been Ecuadorean. However, when the Panama Canal was built, the engineers, who had previously been working in Ecuador, were wearing these hats and everyone wanted one of those "Panama" hats the canal engineers were wearing. They are to all intents and purposes nearly indestructible.
It was fun to go through the little museum and see how the hats are made, mostly in the homes of indigenous women hereabouts and then finished (ironed, trimmed, etc.) in the shop. As we were leaving the shop, we espied an indigenous woman sitting on a sofa in the anteroom weaving away on a small pajatoquilla basket. Yadira asked if we could watch, we asked a few questions about how she had started in this trade. She had been taught in a convento of priests 30 years ago when she was quite young. It seems to have been an effort of the church to provide work for poor indigenous people. At this point, her whole family including in-laws are making a living weaving the straw.
As we were starting to go, a businesswoman in suit and high heels came through the front door and the weaver said, "Buenas tardes," good afternoon. The woman did not reply, snapped at the weaver that she would not be paid today, even though she had delivered her finished work previously. The weaver protested, but the woman did not listen. The weaver had the last word though--all she said was, "Don't be mean," to the departing back of the employee. This whole exchange was very upsetting to Yadira and to me as well. I was glad I had resisted the impulse to buy anything in this shop.
The weaver seemed to take it in stride, though, with a philosophical shrug, but this kind of poor treatment is the reason fair trade was started 70 years ago, and the reason I continue with it today.
All the way back, Yadira and I continued our discussion of prejudice and injustice that we began on Monday and concluded, as before, that we must give respect to all people.
Vincent and I had a nice lunch in the place YuYú had brought us to on Saturday and then went with Carlos to the modern art museum. Carlos switches back and forth between English and Spanish so smoothly that I think he must have both sides of his brain working at once. We really enjoyed the paintings that were there--and there were three patios as well! The building had seen many uses in its long life, just prior to the installation of the museum, the last previous being as a sanatorium for alcoholics. As in all the former colonial countries with which I am familiar, alcoholism is a huge problem here, and the inmates were punished cruelly in many ways, including being dunked in a cold bath before dawn. We thought about this as we walked back--how universal is this story: powerful conquerors destroy the civilization of those they conquer, then are in turn destroyed by someone else.
We continue to do what little we can to change ourselves, change our thinking, change our actions so that we can contribute as much blessing to the world as we possibly can. Eventually we hope, small things will add up. We remembered Martin Luther King, Jr.'s saying--"the arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice."
Ora pro nobis in Latin is "pray for us." We welcome your kind thoughts and prayers as we prepare to visit and interview artisans about their struggle for the basic goods most of us have taken for granted all our lives. Carlos said about the indigenes struggling to live under Spanish rule, "We cannot imagine how much pain they dealt with--we have never worked so hard, nor felt so much pain." God bless us all and help us to change this tired old world which is nonetheless so beautiful and fresh in each morning, despite all the harm we can do.
It was fun to go through the little museum and see how the hats are made, mostly in the homes of indigenous women hereabouts and then finished (ironed, trimmed, etc.) in the shop. As we were leaving the shop, we espied an indigenous woman sitting on a sofa in the anteroom weaving away on a small pajatoquilla basket. Yadira asked if we could watch, we asked a few questions about how she had started in this trade. She had been taught in a convento of priests 30 years ago when she was quite young. It seems to have been an effort of the church to provide work for poor indigenous people. At this point, her whole family including in-laws are making a living weaving the straw.
As we were starting to go, a businesswoman in suit and high heels came through the front door and the weaver said, "Buenas tardes," good afternoon. The woman did not reply, snapped at the weaver that she would not be paid today, even though she had delivered her finished work previously. The weaver protested, but the woman did not listen. The weaver had the last word though--all she said was, "Don't be mean," to the departing back of the employee. This whole exchange was very upsetting to Yadira and to me as well. I was glad I had resisted the impulse to buy anything in this shop.
The weaver seemed to take it in stride, though, with a philosophical shrug, but this kind of poor treatment is the reason fair trade was started 70 years ago, and the reason I continue with it today.
All the way back, Yadira and I continued our discussion of prejudice and injustice that we began on Monday and concluded, as before, that we must give respect to all people.
Vincent and I had a nice lunch in the place YuYú had brought us to on Saturday and then went with Carlos to the modern art museum. Carlos switches back and forth between English and Spanish so smoothly that I think he must have both sides of his brain working at once. We really enjoyed the paintings that were there--and there were three patios as well! The building had seen many uses in its long life, just prior to the installation of the museum, the last previous being as a sanatorium for alcoholics. As in all the former colonial countries with which I am familiar, alcoholism is a huge problem here, and the inmates were punished cruelly in many ways, including being dunked in a cold bath before dawn. We thought about this as we walked back--how universal is this story: powerful conquerors destroy the civilization of those they conquer, then are in turn destroyed by someone else.
We continue to do what little we can to change ourselves, change our thinking, change our actions so that we can contribute as much blessing to the world as we possibly can. Eventually we hope, small things will add up. We remembered Martin Luther King, Jr.'s saying--"the arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice."
Ora pro nobis in Latin is "pray for us." We welcome your kind thoughts and prayers as we prepare to visit and interview artisans about their struggle for the basic goods most of us have taken for granted all our lives. Carlos said about the indigenes struggling to live under Spanish rule, "We cannot imagine how much pain they dealt with--we have never worked so hard, nor felt so much pain." God bless us all and help us to change this tired old world which is nonetheless so beautiful and fresh in each morning, despite all the harm we can do.
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