This morning, we said good-bye to the Rojas family--we had grown very fond of them. Carlos' mother explained that the young man I saw studying in the patio was also working for them while going to school. She said there were many young men (varones) like him who would love the chance to work and go to school. This one is helping his mother with living expenses while he goes to school. They employ as many people in this circumstance as they can--it is not just for us, she explained, that we do this work. Carlos and his mother both run through the compound constantly, fixing this, demonstrating that. The two of them drove us to Otavalo, where we first faxed our application ($18!!!!) then had an early lunch, picked up Romel and caught the bus first to Ibarra, then to San Antonio de Ibarra, a small community of wood artisans. San Antonio is home to about three thousand artisans, mostly in wood.
Right outside the main entrance to the town is a museum and gallery of the most famous of them all. The statues are very imposing. We rode the jolting bus up, up and up to the top of the town and stopped in front of a tall gate, where our hostess, Aida Males, was waiting for us. We walked through an extensive compound accompanied by several barking dogs, one of which was Maya, the mother of two pups. Maya turned out to belong to Aida, as she followed us into the house.
Aida specializes in glass. Early in her career, she studied architecture, and the home she now lives in she designed herself. It is spacious, although with a small footprint, and airy. It has magnificent views of the surrounding mountains and the town of Ibarra, and this night, we watched the clouds creep up the mountainsides until everything was covered except her house. We had a lovely time with her, asking her about her family and her work. Her husband died in 2014, leaving her a widow with three older children, a son, Felipe, 29, and two daughters, Yamani, 22, and Anaís, 18. Felipe is a tattoo artist who lives in Quito most of the time and visits his mother once a week. Yamani is studying odontology in university, and Anaís, sound production, also in university. One thing we learned early and well is that she is always working to care for the needs of her family.
The compound is populated by various members of Aida's family as well as her mother, who is also a widow. When her father died, the land was divided up between the siblings, and now each one has his or her own house, as well as various children and grandchildren having dwellings here. It is literally one big happy family. I asked Aida about this, and she replied that like every family, they had people who were hard to get along with and people who were very easy-going. But it is clear from the way that small children appear in various houses at different times that everyone takes care of and enjoys being with everyone else.
Her brother took charge of Felipe many times when his father was unavailable, and she is very grateful--anything this brother needs or asks for, she is happy to do--haircuts or birthday cakes are no problem.
This first night we are tired from the long journey, but we sense we have met a kindred spirit here and have been welcomed in first class style.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Wednesday, March 11 Puzzling Out the Knot
Most of the day was spent on the computer--first with two Skype meetings for the morning, then in the afternoon, we went to an internet cafe to print out the French Market application form. It seems clear to proceed in our accustomed direction--French Markets during the summer in Wheaton and Wilmette and church markets in the fall and early winter. We can't see farther than this summer. We're still hoping the house will sell to free us up to pursue new directions.
It is our hope also to improve communications in the enterprise for which we are volunteering. It is quite a challenge to keep everything moving smoothly when there are barriers between countries, not only of borders and governments, but of language and culture. Sometimes everyone's best efforts seem to be required to move some big rock. Sometimes, the rock--she ain't a-movin'.
It is our hope also to improve communications in the enterprise for which we are volunteering. It is quite a challenge to keep everything moving smoothly when there are barriers between countries, not only of borders and governments, but of language and culture. Sometimes everyone's best efforts seem to be required to move some big rock. Sometimes, the rock--she ain't a-movin'.
Monday, March 23, 2015
Tuesday, March 10 Cayambe Connections
We took this day for ourselves, after spending many, many days interviewing and writing reports. We were going to return to Cotacachi, but opted instead for Cayambe, a much larger and busier town, as it turns out. Cayambe is known for bizcochos--a kind of biscuit with a lot of shortening in it, very crispy and salty. So everywhere we went, we saw them advertised. We had already eaten some, so I passed. Cayambe was a bit farther afield than we have been before on our own. We had seen it driving into Otavalo and thought it was pretty. There is a lot of new construction. We found people to be very friendly there, very helpful. The city has a tourist office, where they explained our map and told us not to pay more than $3 for a ride to the tourist sites. The mountains around the town are pretty, too.
During the bus ride, we saw again how many people get on at one stop, distribute their merchandise to anyone who will accept it--a piece of gum or candy usually--then give their spiel at the front of the bus, sometimes very impassioned and go back down the aisles having guilted everyone into paying 25 to 50 cents for their piece of gum. Sometimes the people just give it back, but many people seem to reward a good performance. One lady promised to pray for everybody who would contribute to her bus fare to where she needed to go. I think it was more urgent than that sounds, but I don't yet have enough Spanish to understand the spiels.
Sometimes one person will start his or her spiel and another will get on the bus, walking through with ice creams or plastic cups full of watermelon or pineapple. The first person will wait until that one has finished to begin again. We have of course seen this in Chicago (although it is much more difficult than it used to be on the trains and impossible on the buses). It struck me again how difficult it is to earn enough money to support the family. When there are no jobs, low wages, and so many more people being born every year, the pressure is enormous.
Someone wrote about changing the economy to one of barter and sharing. Certainly there would be a different attitude toward money. I wonder what would happen? Would people only trade for the things they really need or want? Would there be as much waste? I don't know.
The application for the French Markets for the summer arrived. We will fill it out tomorrow and send it in. We've decided that we'll still be selling in fair trade markets, at least until Christmas. After that, or combined with that, we don't know.
We came back to Otavalo for a late vegetarian lunch in the patio. So pleasant there! We'll have to do it again tomorrow.
My class is tonight--I so look forward to these. I never know what new release from old pain and old patterns will come. Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage--these are constructed by the not-yet-developed minds of children. If only we can see them, we can remove them, these old imprisoning patterns. Every day I thank God for the possibility of changing my thoughts AND my reality.
During the bus ride, we saw again how many people get on at one stop, distribute their merchandise to anyone who will accept it--a piece of gum or candy usually--then give their spiel at the front of the bus, sometimes very impassioned and go back down the aisles having guilted everyone into paying 25 to 50 cents for their piece of gum. Sometimes the people just give it back, but many people seem to reward a good performance. One lady promised to pray for everybody who would contribute to her bus fare to where she needed to go. I think it was more urgent than that sounds, but I don't yet have enough Spanish to understand the spiels.
Sometimes one person will start his or her spiel and another will get on the bus, walking through with ice creams or plastic cups full of watermelon or pineapple. The first person will wait until that one has finished to begin again. We have of course seen this in Chicago (although it is much more difficult than it used to be on the trains and impossible on the buses). It struck me again how difficult it is to earn enough money to support the family. When there are no jobs, low wages, and so many more people being born every year, the pressure is enormous.
Someone wrote about changing the economy to one of barter and sharing. Certainly there would be a different attitude toward money. I wonder what would happen? Would people only trade for the things they really need or want? Would there be as much waste? I don't know.
The application for the French Markets for the summer arrived. We will fill it out tomorrow and send it in. We've decided that we'll still be selling in fair trade markets, at least until Christmas. After that, or combined with that, we don't know.
We came back to Otavalo for a late vegetarian lunch in the patio. So pleasant there! We'll have to do it again tomorrow.
My class is tonight--I so look forward to these. I never know what new release from old pain and old patterns will come. Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage--these are constructed by the not-yet-developed minds of children. If only we can see them, we can remove them, these old imprisoning patterns. Every day I thank God for the possibility of changing my thoughts AND my reality.
Monday, March 9
This morning we took the bus into Otavalo to continue our interview with Romel. He had said to us last time, "I doesn't have the gringo mind." Today we wanted to find out more about that. What are the invisible (to us) differences between North and south American thinking? The fish never sees the water, nor do we ever get more than a glimpse of the basic attitudes underlying our thinking.
Romel said that we from the north are driven by the clock. Here in Ecuador, where so many things northerners take for granted (punctual transport, reliable telecommunication, etc.) either don't exist or are severely compromised by events that would be considered abnormal in the north, but are a daily occurrence here, the main goal is to remain "tranquilo." In the north, where traffic jams are frequent, there is much honking and cursing and shaking of fists or fingers. Here traffic jams are just as frequent, but they are not considered a personal affront, and there is far less honking or other negative reaction. Our bus, for example was about 15 minutes late. We hurried as fast as we could, and ended up only being five minutes late. Yet we felt guilty. It hadn't fazed Romel at all. He just spent a few extra minutes in bed, for which he felt grateful, not annoyed.
I started thinking of the many other ways the clock drives us in the north. We're annoyed by lateness and feel guilty if we are the tardy ones. We always are thinking of how to fit things into the time available, instead of doing what we want to do. We think of time as money, and measure things in dollars per hour or per day. It seems normal, but what if time is given to us to DECIDE what to do with, not to fill with busy-ness? What if I decided from minute to minute what was important and I did it with conscious awareness of what I was doing? The sense of routine would be gone, and maybe I might not miss so many divine appointments. It's worth trying.
We went to lunch in a different place today, our outdoor cafe being closed on Mondays. After we got home, we worked more on the different reports. A lot of food for thought in what Romel told us.
Romel said that we from the north are driven by the clock. Here in Ecuador, where so many things northerners take for granted (punctual transport, reliable telecommunication, etc.) either don't exist or are severely compromised by events that would be considered abnormal in the north, but are a daily occurrence here, the main goal is to remain "tranquilo." In the north, where traffic jams are frequent, there is much honking and cursing and shaking of fists or fingers. Here traffic jams are just as frequent, but they are not considered a personal affront, and there is far less honking or other negative reaction. Our bus, for example was about 15 minutes late. We hurried as fast as we could, and ended up only being five minutes late. Yet we felt guilty. It hadn't fazed Romel at all. He just spent a few extra minutes in bed, for which he felt grateful, not annoyed.
I started thinking of the many other ways the clock drives us in the north. We're annoyed by lateness and feel guilty if we are the tardy ones. We always are thinking of how to fit things into the time available, instead of doing what we want to do. We think of time as money, and measure things in dollars per hour or per day. It seems normal, but what if time is given to us to DECIDE what to do with, not to fill with busy-ness? What if I decided from minute to minute what was important and I did it with conscious awareness of what I was doing? The sense of routine would be gone, and maybe I might not miss so many divine appointments. It's worth trying.
We went to lunch in a different place today, our outdoor cafe being closed on Mondays. After we got home, we worked more on the different reports. A lot of food for thought in what Romel told us.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Sunday, March 8, 2015 Connecting the Dots
Tomorrow a bunch of reports are due, with four artisan interviews to type up plus the report for the (busy) week. This morning, we worked on those and sent two of the interviews. Vincent also spoke to his father and brother by phone. Later we spoke to Shoshanna as she was studying in her dorm. She got accepted for winter semester in Oaxaca next year--yay! She's decided on a double major--Spanish and English. Great for her, she is so skilled in communicating!
At noon, we celebrated International Women's Day with a teleconference including Jean Houston, Marianne Williamson and Claire Zammit--what a powerhouse trio. Jean explained that the traditional feminine role is to take care of the house and the children, and that has grown to taking care of the earth and everyone's children. A turning point in human history is upon us and women are uniquely called to step up and help it be a new beginning, rather than the end of the human story. Marianne explained that we are to shine our light, not in the places where the light is already shining, but in the darkness, and urged women to get radically involved in overturning unjust structures. Claire shared her story of transformation of her life by committing to being the best person she could envision to be. Both Vincent and I were so inspired.
Now as we are coming closer to the close of our journey, we are beginning to wonder what is next. We have certainly learned a lot about ourselves and about the struggles of so many people just to stay alive. We've also come closer to the realities of being biological creatures on this beautiful and amazing planet. We're hoping the future does not hold much big-city living!
In the evening, I spoke to our daughter, Elspeth. We ended up texting back and forth because the internet connection was so intermittent it could have been called intermit. We sense the Spirit at work in our lives, though we are not tall enough to see over-shoulder what She is working on. Family, friends, a call to action and to stay connected to everything inside us and around us--these are the bones on which flesh must be put. It is a call to the earth community of compassion, connection, reflection and concerted action.
We will stay tuned.
At noon, we celebrated International Women's Day with a teleconference including Jean Houston, Marianne Williamson and Claire Zammit--what a powerhouse trio. Jean explained that the traditional feminine role is to take care of the house and the children, and that has grown to taking care of the earth and everyone's children. A turning point in human history is upon us and women are uniquely called to step up and help it be a new beginning, rather than the end of the human story. Marianne explained that we are to shine our light, not in the places where the light is already shining, but in the darkness, and urged women to get radically involved in overturning unjust structures. Claire shared her story of transformation of her life by committing to being the best person she could envision to be. Both Vincent and I were so inspired.
Now as we are coming closer to the close of our journey, we are beginning to wonder what is next. We have certainly learned a lot about ourselves and about the struggles of so many people just to stay alive. We've also come closer to the realities of being biological creatures on this beautiful and amazing planet. We're hoping the future does not hold much big-city living!
In the evening, I spoke to our daughter, Elspeth. We ended up texting back and forth because the internet connection was so intermittent it could have been called intermit. We sense the Spirit at work in our lives, though we are not tall enough to see over-shoulder what She is working on. Family, friends, a call to action and to stay connected to everything inside us and around us--these are the bones on which flesh must be put. It is a call to the earth community of compassion, connection, reflection and concerted action.
We will stay tuned.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Saturday, March 7, 2015 Acclimating
Right after breakfast, Carlos agreed to finish our interview with him. He is such a busy guy! I always see him running, upstairs, downstairs, through the patio. He always smiles and greets us. We were delighted to have pinned him down.
No sooner had we agreed on this, Sonita and Francis, the couple from France asked for a ride to Otavalo, so Carlos turned to us, asked, "Is it okay? I'll be back in an hour." We are learning that the key to the tranquility of Ecuador is flexibility. Of course we said yes. Of course it was more than an hour, but we had reports to write anyway.
Carlos is the third generation in the family in the hat-making business. His grandfather started it in 1923. Zoila, Carlos' mother, started working in the business at fourteen. She remembers walking to the town with her grandfather, the hats stacked on the backs of burros. That must have been a sight! She grew up, got married, and carried on the business, even through the time of her husband's desertion when Carlos was quite young. She's a strong, strong woman, and the business really grew under her leadership. In 2002, Carlos took over the administration from his mother after completing his studies in business management at the university.
Their business is thriving. Their sales grew over 50% last year and they are still growing. They make hats from straw, wool and leather in about 30 different styles each year, many of them new. Carlos was very kind to show us lots of the processes of making the hats today, although none of the workers were here on this Saturday. He remarked that it was important to keep sales going strong, not only for him and his family, but for the many other families who have income from the work. Zoila explained that they have many young workers from the surrounding area who are still in school, but working to support their mothers and siblings. They are absolutely delighted to be able to help the young men in this way.
Carlos' wife died two years ago, leaving him with two sons, Michael, 8 and Sebastián, 6. He hopes that someday they will grow up to take over the business. He also hopes that in the interim, he can find a woman to help him move the business forward. I got the sense that his wife had been very active with him in the enterprise.
The whole Rojas family is so hospitable! Sonita and Francis are clients of theirs from France--they have been here about two weeks. Carlos and his family host them every year as they pick out hats for sale in the winter months in France. Another client we met later today is Vilia, from Lithuania, who is also a customer of Carlos. When we first arrived, Zoila was very concerned that we would have the food we like (Vincent is a vegetarian and I am lactose reluctant, if not completely intolerant.) We really have felt welcome here, and a part of things if we wished to be and left to ourselves if we preferred that. They could not be kinder!
After lunch, we rode the bus to Otavalo market again, our third visit. The home office wants us to acquire some samples for them. We were astonished to realize that not everything on offer is the same all the time. Afterwards we had lunch at the American cafe and rode home to Ilumán on a very jouncy and crowded bus. Poor Vincent, with his tall self, kept hitting his head on the ceiling of the bus.
When we arrived home, it was nearly time for Francis and Sonita to go to the airport. Although they are leaving at 7 p.m. or so, they won't arrive in Strasbourg until 10:00 tomorrow night. Long journeys are so hard! We have really enjoyed getting to know them a bit through our fractured English/Spanish/German trans-language. We will miss Sonita's bright laughter and Francis' steady good will and support.
All in all, since we arrived, we have been becoming steadily more at home. Having that in place allows us to begin to allow other topics to arise, such as what we will do when we arrive home in April. I am also working on releasing the captive inner self that I have so rejected and ignored for all these years. It feels as if I may return home a different, freer person. Certainly I have taken a huge leap into the unknown just coming here where I speak the language so poorly, but I know that my work--our work here will bear fruit in bettering the lives of many artisans in the way that the universe works, so I am content. To be at home wherever you are, that is the goal.
No sooner had we agreed on this, Sonita and Francis, the couple from France asked for a ride to Otavalo, so Carlos turned to us, asked, "Is it okay? I'll be back in an hour." We are learning that the key to the tranquility of Ecuador is flexibility. Of course we said yes. Of course it was more than an hour, but we had reports to write anyway.
Carlos is the third generation in the family in the hat-making business. His grandfather started it in 1923. Zoila, Carlos' mother, started working in the business at fourteen. She remembers walking to the town with her grandfather, the hats stacked on the backs of burros. That must have been a sight! She grew up, got married, and carried on the business, even through the time of her husband's desertion when Carlos was quite young. She's a strong, strong woman, and the business really grew under her leadership. In 2002, Carlos took over the administration from his mother after completing his studies in business management at the university.
Their business is thriving. Their sales grew over 50% last year and they are still growing. They make hats from straw, wool and leather in about 30 different styles each year, many of them new. Carlos was very kind to show us lots of the processes of making the hats today, although none of the workers were here on this Saturday. He remarked that it was important to keep sales going strong, not only for him and his family, but for the many other families who have income from the work. Zoila explained that they have many young workers from the surrounding area who are still in school, but working to support their mothers and siblings. They are absolutely delighted to be able to help the young men in this way.
Carlos' wife died two years ago, leaving him with two sons, Michael, 8 and Sebastián, 6. He hopes that someday they will grow up to take over the business. He also hopes that in the interim, he can find a woman to help him move the business forward. I got the sense that his wife had been very active with him in the enterprise.
The whole Rojas family is so hospitable! Sonita and Francis are clients of theirs from France--they have been here about two weeks. Carlos and his family host them every year as they pick out hats for sale in the winter months in France. Another client we met later today is Vilia, from Lithuania, who is also a customer of Carlos. When we first arrived, Zoila was very concerned that we would have the food we like (Vincent is a vegetarian and I am lactose reluctant, if not completely intolerant.) We really have felt welcome here, and a part of things if we wished to be and left to ourselves if we preferred that. They could not be kinder!
After lunch, we rode the bus to Otavalo market again, our third visit. The home office wants us to acquire some samples for them. We were astonished to realize that not everything on offer is the same all the time. Afterwards we had lunch at the American cafe and rode home to Ilumán on a very jouncy and crowded bus. Poor Vincent, with his tall self, kept hitting his head on the ceiling of the bus.
When we arrived home, it was nearly time for Francis and Sonita to go to the airport. Although they are leaving at 7 p.m. or so, they won't arrive in Strasbourg until 10:00 tomorrow night. Long journeys are so hard! We have really enjoyed getting to know them a bit through our fractured English/Spanish/German trans-language. We will miss Sonita's bright laughter and Francis' steady good will and support.
All in all, since we arrived, we have been becoming steadily more at home. Having that in place allows us to begin to allow other topics to arise, such as what we will do when we arrive home in April. I am also working on releasing the captive inner self that I have so rejected and ignored for all these years. It feels as if I may return home a different, freer person. Certainly I have taken a huge leap into the unknown just coming here where I speak the language so poorly, but I know that my work--our work here will bear fruit in bettering the lives of many artisans in the way that the universe works, so I am content. To be at home wherever you are, that is the goal.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Friday, March 6, 2015 Made with Love in Ecuador
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?
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?
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