Our errand in the city seemed like an episode of reality programming: "The Great Sewing Machine Race." A couple women in the group knew exactly what we were looking for. The rest of us were just along for the ride. Hoping, at some point, there would be ice cream.
In and out of stores, we went. "Nope. Not the right functions." "Too hard to service." "Undependable." We navigated rocky streets and bustling markets like white water rafters. "Hold on! We're going in!" Calls of market vendors crashed like waves over the boulders of fruit stands and displays of used tennis shoes as we weaved and surged in search of the safe shores of the perfect sewing machines for our village workshops.
A girl who begins menstruation will drop out of school because sanitary supplies are not available. One machine and one sewing lesson solves that problem. Another lesson creates curtains and school shirts. A few more still provide a woman with a marketable skill and a way to feed her family as a tailor.
Caring about the details is critical. So is finding the right machines. When we depart, all we leave behind are skills and the tools to implement them.
And a bit of our hearts.
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