Today is my tenth day in Uganda. I am at the One Mango Tree compound on the outskirts of Gulu awaiting the arrival of the tailors who choose to work for extra pay this weekend. Usually they work five days a week but now there is some urgency. One Mango Tree's first large wholesale order, from Global Girlfriends, is running late and future orders may hinge on the success of this one.
At a meeting a couple of days ago, the women were helped to understand how Western trade works on a schedule, the importance of timing, and the potential impact of late delivery on them, personally. By missing most of the Christmas retail business, we explained to them, these goods will be slower to sell, which will delay a reorder, which could mean that come spring the volume of new products sewn by the 21 women would have inadequate sales outlets and that just possibly, in that event, One Mango Tree could not keep all 21 women employed. They listened intently, either concentrating to understand the English or to let the concept sink in. Timing and schedules are definitely not viewed with the same importance here as we westerners are accustomed to.
The women do value their jobs. They realize the One Mango Tree training has given them a valuable skill for which they are being well paid. Most of them had been living in IDP (internally displaced person) camps, in huts crowded closely together and lacking adequate basic facilities; now their lives are better and they have choices. Another motivator is that they are paid for each piece they produce, so some of them have decided they will work today, after first attending church.
A few have already arrived after early mass, and the soft hum of their treadle Singers is beginning to fill the workshop, interspersed with lilting soprano voices harmonizing in Acholi on what sounds like church hymns. They promise to teach me the songs, but so far my Acholi vocabulary contains only a few phrases.
I look forward to visiting the local churches but today I'm on duty at OMT, filling in for Halle, the founder and director--who is in Kampala for the weekend, and Gihan, a young man from Sri Lanka who has experience in the garment trade and who has become her important part-time adviser on design, production, and shipping. He, too, is in Kampala.
I must receive and count the finished bags, inspect them a final time for quality (alas, I had to send back several bags yesterday for repairs), write and tie onto each item a card naming the tailor who sewed it so the purchaser can feel a connection and even look for her photo on our website, bag each piece in plastic (not 'green', but a shipping requirement by the customer), stick a label on each bag showing full product description, and then -- referring to Halle's shipping list -- see how many of which product in which fabric design go into which of the 131 planned cartons. And how many are still needed to fill the order. Prisca is not here today but during the week, she acts as operations manager and oversees many of the details, including the work assignments to each tailor.
My role is not mentally challenging or physically demanding but for some reason I was exhausted and fell asleep last night at 9 p.m., happy to have done my small part. I have quickly realized that my sewing skills would qualify me to make only the simple products like aprons or herbal eye pillows. Several of the bag designs are complicated, with multiple pockets, inside and out, padding sewn into the lining, padded straps, and tricky zippers. For the more complex products, the women work in teams, with basic parts sewn together by the beginners, some of the assembling done by women with more experience, and the actual finishing entrusted to the few expert tailors. The preference, however, is for one woman to make the entire item, not only to simplify the payment scale but also to allow her a sense of pride in her creation.
Time for me to get busy now. I think I'll sit out on the porch to do the tagging; the sun is shining, the sky is fluffy blue and white, and the birds are singing. And maybe I'll be pondering the many other kinds of work I might possibly wind up doing here --God knows there are many unmet needs -- but for this moment I'm content.
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