Omiyo...Give Hope
  • Home
  • Shop
    • Face Masks
    • Necklaces
    • Wrap Bracelets
    • Clasp Bracelets
    • Stretch Bracelets
    • Earrings
    • Bags
    • Gifts of Love
    • Kid Stuff
  • About
    • Omiyo's Story
    • Ugandan Artisans
    • Nigerian Artisans
    • Media
    • Contact
  • Get Involved
    • Sell Omiyo at your Fundraiser
    • Sponsor a Child
    • Gifts of Love
  • Blog
  • Wholesale
    • Wholesale Necklaces

Omiyo means Give

It's not all about the earringsĀ 

5/29/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
Three miles after we got off the bus, walking along a rough and rocky road, my daughter and I stopped in front of Azucena's little shop along the single road in her little village. She was there, working on a picture she had painted on a piece of bark. She welcomed us warmly, and seeing our red, sweaty faces, brought us cold, creamy papaya smoothies. We sat chatting on handmade wooden chairs, surrounded by local paintings covering the walls, and shelves full of anything that might be desired by a rural Nicaraguan household: sugar, laundry soap, salt, coffee...
I had ordered forty pairs of "chapas" (earrings) from her, and she had them ready, plus several other pairs she insisted on giving me. It was fun to examine them, each pair different from the others; some were delicate and almost Victorian in feel, some were simple and modern.
Picture
Picture
As we talked, a few children stopped by on errands from their mothers, and a friend stopped by to chat, taking a break from harvesting coffee. Oh, yes, coffee! Azucena grabbed a bag of local, freshly-ground coffee and gave it to me to take back home with me. We got talking about our Jewels for Schools program. I told Azucena that I donate 20% of my retail sales to educational programs  in the community where the jewelry was made. I asked her what she knew of the educational needs in her village. Turns out, she knows a lot, and is somewhat of a local advocate for education. From her position there on the street, she sees which kids are in school, and which ones aren't. In fact, she said, that boy she just waved to, Norman, should be in high school. He's a bright kid, but his parents can't afford the uniform, books, and transportation for him to attend the closest secondary school in town, about ten miles away (three miles walking, and seven by bus). A few dollars a month could make the difference between a future of poverty and a professional career for a kid like that. 

It was one of those moments when you realize that it's not all about the earrings. It's about finding ways to support people who want to, and are able to help their neighbors better than an outsider ever could, because they see that bright kid passing by on a school day and know why he isn't in school. 

Azucena was so excited to find a way that she can help kids like Norman finish his education! And since that time, she has started a "Saturday School," for kids who can't afford to go to school in town every day, to at least pick up some of the basics on weekends in their own community. She's even more "in the know" about which families need help, and which kids are the most likely to make use of a secondary education, if they could afford it. She's going to administer our Jewels for Schools program in her community, and I can't think of a better person to do it! To support this program in a natural, sustainable way, shop Azucena's one-of-a-kind earrings.

0 Comments

The guy in the Pink Fluffy Slippers

5/19/2015

1 Comment

 
Picture
Just out of college, I decided fair trade was the thing for me. Actually, it didn't even have a name yet. That came later. But, with a love for handcrafted things, a bit of flair for the creative, and a passion to "serve the poor," I set out to start a "SELFHELP Crafts" store in a small storefront in Chicago. I took a year or more to get myself some retail experience, working as a clerk in the Art Institute Museum Store. I gathered a board of directors from among my friends and church members, and we had countless meetings and a few fundraisers. We planned to be "debt free in "83!" I ordered a ridiculously small amount of merchandise (Botswana baskets, mahogany 
wood salad bowls, and those jute plant hangers from Bangladesh were the hot items). Finally came the opening day. I arrived early, made sure everything was ship-shape. Got out the cash box. Watered the plants. Set the atmosphere, with soft music on a little cassette tape player, sat down at the check-out desk, and waited for my first customer...and waited...and waited. Had some lunch. Waited some more...finally in the middle of the afternoon, a man appeared at the door. He opened it. He walked in. He was wearing pink fluffy bedroom slippers. He was a little bit nuts, and he was scary. He wanted to know if I sold women's underwear, because he loved it so much. He was my only customer that day, and he turned out to be harmless.
I had many days like that in that little shop in Chicago. But I also had lots of great conversations with people who really cared where they used their purchasing power, and loved the idea that we could "serve the poor" through business, even more effectively than with charity.  Since then fair trade has grown and changed. It's much more powerful and sophisticated. Now we have Facebook, Twitter, Etsy, Pinterest...and the guy in the pink fluffy slippers is on my browser, not in the same room with me. Which is a bit of a relief. But there is still that sense of anticipation...who is going to be my first customer on this new website? Won't you be the guy in the pink fluffy slippers this time?

Picture
They are yours, should you choose to accept them (CLICK!)
1 Comment

A bunch of stuff?

5/11/2015

0 Comments

 
As I sit here writing this first blog post for my new company, Omiyo, I am catching whiffs of the soup I just made from wilting vegetables and the smidge of pulled pork left over from Friday's dinner, flavored with bouillon purchased at the local "scratch and dent store (or did my friend LuAnne give that to me from her latest dumpster dive?). I call it Must-go Soup.  And no, this is not a food blog, thank goodness.

I'm frugal. A simple-liver. I committed to it in college, when I learned in sociology class that we in the United States are using up the lion's share of the world's resources. I started turning off lights. Eating less meat. Then I married a Mennonite, which sort of clinched it. Our poor kids were the last to have a home computer, cell phones. On the rare occasions when we frequent the drive-through to get soft drinks, we order one drink for each row of seats in the van. We're actually pretty cheap.

So, you may ask, why am I starting a company to sell jewelry, headbands, scarves...stuff people probably really don't need? Good question. I've been through this. I heard it a lot from customers when I managed a fair trade store for six years: "I really really love this thingamajig, but I just don't need it." No, I'm sure you don't. You probably have a closet like mine, full of stuff from your local thrift shop (OK, well, maybe yours comes from Macy's or whatever). In fact, when you clean out your closet, you may give your stuff to your local thrift shop, which, to tell the truth, is fuller than your closet, so that your stuff eventually gets baled up and sent off to Africa...where it shows up in the market. And guess what? It's cool again! It's American! It's cheaper than buying locally-made clothing! A win-win, right?
Picture
Nope. Not for Sarah and Florence, two seamstresses in the market in Gulu, Uganda. They make our African batik items. They've grown up poor, but have trained as tailors, and sewing is the way they hope to rise out of poverty. But because the local market for clothes has been flooded with all our used stuff, they have less business than before. OK, maybe Sarah and Florence should find another job. But unemployment is about 70% where they live.  Maybe they could go back to school and re-train to become computer programmers or something that's the wave of the future. But it took just about all they had to get where they are. They love what they do. 
And besides, is that the kind of world you'd want to live in? With a lot of computer programs and no African batik clothing? Me either.

The world needs people who make things. Simple, beautiful things, made from materials they find in their environment, like paper, pine needles, African batik, bales of American Tshirts...and the people who make these things need us. They need us as a market for their goods.

You may say, "I don't need stuff, and I'd rather just donate money directly to help poor people." OK, there is a need for that, and that's why Omiyo is connected with a sponsorship program, to help orphans and other kids who are living with ancient grandmas unable to put them through school. But ideally, parents are the ones who pay school fees, who put shoes on their kids'  feet, who do all the things we do for our own kids. They want to do it. They are able-bodied and they believe they can do it. They have learned to sew, or to make jewelry, and they are offering their beautiful products to us. So, give in. Treat yourself, and in doing so you'll be helping them support their families with dignity. You may not need this purchase, but they do.


0 Comments
    Picture

    Author

    I'm Sally, and I've worked in fair trade for years. I started Omiyo when my kids, born adventurers, got me involved with women making things in the places they have lived.

    Archives

    August 2017
    March 2017
    March 2016
    February 2016
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly