The Trashion Show

November 12, 2010

Lights: check...they were assembled hours before the show and are now hot on the red carpet catwalk. Camera: the videographer is in place, cameras all over the ballroom are snapping away. Action...........that will have to wait until the VIP guests arrive, 5, 10, 20 minutes late; now they want to browse the rugs & displays in the back before being seated says the Philippine Labor Attache's wife! Our poor models were all standing at attention in paper and plastic dresses, unable to sit lest they dent their gown or worse, rip the skirt from the waist! Emily said that was the most excruciating part of the night.


The whole production was a waiting game, tense at times, a dance with lots of wonder...wonder if the Holiday Inn will cancel our free ballroom again because of a paying contract, wonder if the ministry will shut us down on the night of the show because fashion shows with mixed audiences are illegal, wonder if the girls will actually produce enough gowns for this gig in time or will the delay in the date mean too many of our original girls will have been endorsed and left the country?


Four days before the show I was still rummaging through my drawers finding things the girls could recycle into gowns: mismatched socks, old men's ties donated to Operation Hope, a roll of gold foil brought from the recycle shop in London, an egg carton...anything I could get my hands on. I didn't need to worry; they had it under control and instead of the required 10 dresses, in all they produced about 30! Enough for one section of the show to be only black garbage bag dresses which were accented with big beautiful gemstone jewelry from one of our sponsors. The middle two sections consisted of Iszonica Tshirts with the models sashaying the rugs down the catwalk and of them wearing "real clothes" made by local designers. This was fun for the girls to see what they were chosen to model by the 3 eccentric designers who were backstage with their outfits. Some of these dresses were mighty short for a Kuwaiti audience; lucky they had leggings with them, and underwear in different colors, and tanks! The final trips down the catwalk was the competition and there were enough gowns for each model to wear two.

While ticket sales were a bit disappointing and many who bought didn't even show, the 100 or people who came were so enthusiastic and their enjoyment of the event was great. There were expats as well as locals which was really exciting. One woman in a head covering bought the pink rosebud rug for her daughter's room and said she wanted to print out the story behind the rug and post it on the wall where she would hang the rug! Reporters from 2 newspapers and the British Business Forum were there to get the story. Robert wisely suggested I give the reporters a copy of my speech (I had to write it out in advance and get it approved by the Kuwait sponsor for the event) so I would not so easily be misquoted as I was in the first story. They were both happy to get this and used excerpts from it quite nicely in the articles published today. I was quite nervous about what would be said when I knew everyone related to the embassy was probably a bit on edge after the Marine Ball had to be cancelled last night due to security issues just 3 hours before curtain time! The food was already on location. Good thing Robert & I didn't have tickets; we were planning to go the the British Remembrance Service & curry dinner instead. Fortunately, this was allowed to go on but with heightened security.

Having never been to a fashion show before, I didn't know what to expect. Iszonica Modelling School is run by a dear young Jamaican/English lady who is also a Christian. She really knows her stuff & made everything so professional down to the printed program; no detail left untended. Her partner is a Kuwaiti who provided the oversight, the money, and the WASTA! Without the wasta, there would have been no show. He was a charming, westernized man & very interesting. He is a dentist with a practice but also a businessman with many different ventures going at once. He runs events like this on a regular basis so it was no big deal to him. I was thankful to have him check my speech so I would not offend anyone unknowingly...even though at times that is precisely what needs to be done!

It was really fun for me to have Emily's participation. She was really too busy to undertake the modelling workshops & practices required to participate, but she was willing to do it and even recruited 3 friends to join her. This was definitely a step outside her comfort zone but she performed with beauty and grace; I am so proud of her. Some of the funniest things came from backstage happenings that she was able to observe. The girls gave back their payment to support the housmaids but they are able to get National Honor Society service hours for the time they spent. The girls calculated that they personally would have raised over 600 US dollars from their efforts...I know it was more. It looks like the total earnings will be around $3,000. I am so happy we get to share this with both the Philippine Embassy shelter AND the Nepalese women living at the Salvation Army guest house & training center. They made the 3rd prize dress and discovered by some accounting "error" there was actually 90 KD in their envelope instead of 50! Crown Relocations (the sponsor who gave all the prize money) said they didn't know how it happened but they should keep the difference! This was a huge blessing to them. They now house 27 girls without ANY government support. The ladies bake, sew, knot plastic bags, and anything else they are given to do with great enthusiasm. Many of them have been transformed while living in this transitional home.

In the aftermath of a frantic few days, we are urging the video man to rush with his editing, collecting pictures & Emily is editing them, finalizing the finances, all before we go to both shelters to share the evening with our girls who made the gowns. Seeing their pride will undoubtedly be the best reward of all.

Media Mania

Article across breast reads: "Brothel bust could lead to Sex Scandal" Was the designer intentional? hee hee hee

November 6, 2010

On the phone, a frantic voice: "where is the girl's head, we want her head! Why did you cut it off!" After a minute, I gathered I was talking to the ad manager of the Kuwait Times Newspaper who I had corresponded with regarding their sponsorship of our upcoming Fashion Show for Trash to Treasure.

It all started when the welfare manager at the Philippine Embassy ask me if I would be willing to talk to a reporter who had taken interest in the program I do with their ladies. She was eager for this Filipino reporter to do this very positive story about what their citizens are doing (they have had some unflattering press recently.) After I agreed, it became apparent the timing was perfect as we would need some PR for our charity fashion show and Kuwait Times "bit" when we offered to make a newspaper dress to be modeled in the show in exchange for their support & free advertising. So, in addition to the story which he already wanted to do, we would get ad space and coverage of the fashion show which is next week.

Ben came to our home & spent over an hour with me to get an understanding of the program Trash to Treasure. He did not ask me any questions that made me worry about how I would respond. Nothing about why we are in Kuwait, my motives for serving this way, I felt very "safe." He followed up with a photo shoot at the embassy which I was shocked they allowed and embraced. He talked to my "girls" and was a delightful person with real interest in the story. Ben even agreed to connect me with the ad man who would see that info on the fashion show got in the paper.

A couple of days later I sent the "ad man" a very carefully worded blurb about the show that would benefit "needy women in Kuwait" and gave the email of the modeling agency who is putting on the show, for more information & ticket sales. I had just received the finished "Kuwait Times Dress" and wanted to give him a preview so he would know they were being represented at the show. For my hasty photo, I asked Emily to slip on the paper dress just after she'd come home from school and her hair & face were not "picture ready." Even though I knew this was not for publication, I cropped her head in the picture I sent the ad man.

When I got the frantic phone call, I was in the city with Emily but assured him I would take a photo he could publish if my "model" agreed: she did. It was 3 hours later before we got home, got her make-up & hair done & finally took a picture she was willing to see in the paper. We emailed it off and waited for the paper the next day.

Right at the top of the page 4x6 inches at least, there it was! Headless Emily! I guess it had to go to print before we could get him the replacement. If THAT was not enough, he added that the dresses are being made by "runaway housemaids" and for more information please call Cheryl Spessert at 9944 1743...my personal mobile!!! I'm screwed!

I called Michelle, the gal doing the fashion show: she nearly hit the floor. Her partner/sponsor in the country is a Kuwaiti who she feared would not take well to the wording of the article. Two days later when the axe had not dropped, we thought we may be out of the woods. I sent ad man an email and requested my phone number be dropped from future publications.

By mid week I was absorbed in a social responsibility fair at American University where very interested students and faculty purchased $775.00 worth of rugs & jewelry! They also invited me to speak at the lunch hour "diwanya" where ideas are exchanged & questions asked. I was interrupted by a phone call from a friend who watches out for my "back side" and felt I should invite/advise the American Ambassador of the fashion show. Perhaps she would be upset that she was not informed? I had not imagined that she would would care or notice. Yes, I would give her an invitation...her secretary was checking her schedule.

On Friday I got up and went to the website, anxious to see how the story had been told. To my surprise, I had been quoted as saying things I'd never uttered! The gist was there: we want to create something sustainable rather than just handing out donations, we want to give the women a skill so they may be able to generate income back home and stay with their families rather than have to choose between raising their children or providing for their education...somehow that translated into "we're not just giving them fish but we are providing nets." I guess it works! Fortunately, nothing was grossly misrepresented and he told the story fairly. I knew there was "artistic license" but I just never knew you could insert anything you wanted to say into the speaker's mouth in order to aide the flow of the story.

It was not until last night when I was looking at the two page spread that I saw the red block I had first assumed was part of an advertisement...it was NOT. It was My name AND PHONE NUMBER in large letters there for the world to see...and call:) So much for maintaining a low profile here!

Trashion Show

October 29, 2010

Tea lights flickered on the desk, dancing to the sound of ocean waves & flute music. I smoothed the skin across her brow in an effort to press the stress away. Working gently over her scalp, down her neck & kneading my way towards her shoulders I traversed muscles like steel cables tightly strung.

It was "Spa Night" at the shelter and time to pamper our hard working designers who have been working day and night on their rugs, dolls, and dresses that will be entered into the upcoming "Trashion Show" competition. A local modeling school which is run by Michelle, a British lady, offered to teach the women dressmaking techniques using recycled materials, then put on a professional fashion show (which sadly they cannot attend since they are undocumented and at risk of arrest if they leave the shelter.) This show will be a benefit to the two shelters I am working with; tickets sell for around $40. The Holiday Inn here has agreed to give us the ballroom for free, other companies are kicking in donations for printing, special lighting, refreshments, etc. and they will all get exposure as well. Both local papers will report; the Kuwait Times is working on a story on Trash to Treasure now. They have a wonderful Filipino reporter who spent over an hour at my house, then came to "spa night" to get more of the story and photos (miraculously they have agreed without any qualms to let them publish pics.)

I was wondering how I could reward these 30 ladies who are pouring such creativity and time into this project when I got a call from a lady who owns a beauty salon. Rebbecca saw the Trash To Treasure rugs at the British Business Forum where one of our new partners Crown Relocation, was selling rugs for us. She bought a rug & tracked me down to see how she could help. After purchasing 10 rugs, she wanted to do more! She was thrilled to bring her staff to the shelter to serve these ladies who could never afford her services but could benefit so much. Once again, before I even knew what to ask for, God had the answer "in the wings" and Rebbecca came, as promised 2 days later to the women's pure delight.

We set up the room with a table for nails, hair, space to continue working on their projects, and Yolly (Welfare manager) let us use her office as a quite space where I could give a few massages. At their request, I now have Michael Jackson hit songs on my ipod and they grooved to the music while they were pampered & watched each other get prettied up. We got platters of cookies for them to enjoy with plenty of of leftovers. I get teary just remembering the looks on their faces when they broke into applause after I told them the plan for the evening. It was like Christmas morning.

I asked my first "client" if she had any pain or spots that really needed attention. She told me her left arm is partly numb, partly painful...how long? One year. Ever seen a doctor? "When I get back to Philippines I will."

I had to use a very light touch through her arms & shoulders as everything seemed to hurt. I noticed her teeth were crying for a dentist and suffering from lack of care. Within minutes, she began to relax into the mat like butter in the sun. She didn't want to talk, it looked like she actually fell asleep...this was only a 15 minute massage...could she be that tired?

This precious lady ran away from her employer and found herself ensnared for 2 months in a brothel before getting to POLO where she was at least safe. If I were in her shoes, living with 200+ women and 3 bathrooms, I fear I would be upstairs staring at the wall. I know most of them ARE. We get to work with the brightest, most motivated women although the profits benefit everyone in the house. I do wonder what more we could do for the others...

My next two ladies seemed to want to talk while I worked their scalp, face, neck, shoulders & arm muscles. I loved getting to listen one-on-one about the 3 yr old daughter, the 7 yr old son...

Josie told me how she came on a contract to work in business as she has a college degree, but instead was placed as a house maid and has not been paid in the past 4 months. Her arms were small; she thinks they got smaller and weaker as she had to constantly lift heavy objects.

Rosita talked fast as I worked, pent up stories & concerns bubbled to the surface. After a few minutes, tears erupted as well. She wants to see her children when she gets back to the Philippines but then needs to try to work abroad again in a new place so she can provide for them. It sounded like her husband had been unfaithful but it was hard to understand. She told me she does not get enough to eat there, no fruit or vegetables except for beans. She was worried that when she does get to Manila, she will have no means of transportation to the island where she lives since she has not been paid and has no money. (I since determined there is assistance for the overseas workers once they arrive in Manila.) She asked me if I was a "born again Christian" and was happy to discover I shared her faith. When I finished her massage I asked if I could pray with her and she said "that is what I am waiting for."

Before we left I was able to make "bonus payments" to the ladies whose work I had sold this week, give feedback to our top rugmaker on her color schemes, make a fool of myself dancing with the girls to Jackson tunes, and introduce the reporter to the work being done. My faithful taxi driver, Kalai, was waiting patiently outside the locked gate to wisk me away from this world to my "other world" and I wonder, which is the real world?

(I also did a facebook photo album from this evening.)

Hindu Doll Festival Oct 8, 2010

Last Friday, Emily & I were invited to her Indian girlfriend's home to celebrate Navratri Golu, a Hindu doll festival originating in Southern India. Navratri, meaning 9 nights is celebrated for 10 days. This is a display of dolls predominantly with that of the Gods and Goddesses depicting their mythology on an odd number of steps. This is mainly a festival for the women. Every evening, married women and girls dress up in their colorful silk sarees go to see this golu in homes.

We felt very honored to be the only non Indians present along with Tonya (Thai/Canadian) who is like another daughter to me. She looks like she could fit in but actually has more of a Buddisht background. These friends are actually Canadian but honor and keep their culture alive. We did not realize the extent her friend's family practiced their religion. In a closet type space there was an altar where they burn incense and pray daily. In the same small room, there were stairs set up to display the characters. The "dolls" represent the many different faces or attributes of God; knowledge, justice, love, etc. There are 3 main female dieties considered the "trinity" who are especially worshiped during this festival. On the lower shelves are dolls from vairous countries they have visited; ones with personal memories attached much like our collection of Christmas ornaments from places we have visited. Surrounding the display were Christmas lights and burning incense. I had to bathe & wash my hair to get the sweet, strong scent out before I could sleep.

There was great attention to detail in the preparation for this open house. To "keep ants from coming indoors," corn flour is sprinkled (free hand) outside the door in decorative patterns and candles are lit in the designs. Beautiful! The food was artfully prepared and much of it was symbolic & special for this occasion. Each night one vegetarian dish is made as an offering to the goddesses, then served with the meal. The food is served with a delicious variety of breads which double as utensils. Eating with our fingers seemed to work out okay until a new guest arrived; shaking hands while eating without a fork left me feeling a bit...messy!

Our hostess greeted her Indian guests with a touch of 3 different spices applied to their foreheads & throats. One of them stood for purity, I forgot what the others meant. She also had individual gift bags for each of the many guests who called. There was a very respectful rhythm to the evening and it felt rather formal. It seemed more cultural to me but I recogized it was deeply religious for some. Our desire for the sacred is so universal, its expression so varied.

Emily, Tanya & I felt so under dressed! We didn't realize how dolled up the ladies would be. It was actually the first time for her friend to wear a "half saree" so it was a very special occasion. We were told that young girls get to wear these less cumbersome dresses first; when they are older, they get to wear the full sari which has something like 6 meters of fabric to learn to navigate in! The women & girls were stunningly beautiful and Emily was remorseful that there is no "American traditional dress!" In addition to the clothes, many ladies had placed carefully laced jasmine flowers into their hair, so when giving a hug, there is this heavenly scent of jasmine! This was really lovely.

Having spent and evening with this family with whom we have a growing friendship, puts Hindu practices into such a different light. As my brother, Don, explained to Molly in regards to going off to university; there is still a sense of cognitive dissonance in situations like these. The "old tapes" still play, though muted...idol worship, false gods, etc. To use a British expression, they sort of "take the Mickey out" of themselves by they way they describe the stories of their goddesses as "mythology." To me, myths are all human concoctions to explain the unexplainable as opposed to the Truth we have come to know about God through Jesus Christ. More and more, I find myself wanting to say to people dear to me who are such God-seeking, devout, loving people: I would love for you to meet Jesus, he has so much to say that is relevant in every culture! I desire to discover a way to do this that does not judge or condemn for that is an arrogance I cannot afford.

Jail

My contact at the P embassy gave me the thumbs up that I could join her for a visit to our stranded Filipino maid at the deportation center (fancy word for jail complete with high barbed wire fences.) I was sooo happy to get to go to jail! A 45 minute drive through jam packed roads brought us to the big gray complex. My friend took half an hour or more to get past 3 guards & finally get permission to bring me in with her to see "the general." I scooped up the bag of goodies I'd brought her and joined the conference in the lovely office with A/C & wall mounted TV. Our dis-sheveled friend was brought in wearing a tee shirt with holes and ratty jogging pants; she had obviously lost weight and was sick with a cough. The man asked her "why are you still here?" "I don't know." "Did you steal money?" "No sir." The rest of us were seated comfortably, she was left to stand the entire meeting.

After much running after files & conferencing, they said she must have a case against her & promised to look into it. The word on the street is that her sponsor is related to the immigration official and is trying to extract more money before letting her go. In other words, "wasta" is needed for this case.

We were hoping to visit the ward where other Filipino women were kept but were told to come back at three o'clock for that. It was obvious this was a delay tactic meant to make us lose interest. When my friend told them she needed to see her Filipino women, he relented, but said "only you may go"...unsaid: not the westerner.

I was thrilled to be able to give Gina a hug, say a quick prayer with her, and leave the bag after it had been searched. She said she prayed for someone to help her then looked in her phone and found my number. I pray just by being there, somehow, that will help her hold on, help the ones in power to act with integrity, send a message that we expect justice to take place. A report will be filed at her embassy and once again, we will wait...

Better than a Hallelujah

Amy Grant's "honest cries of a breaking heart are better than a hallelujah sometimes..." was a balm to my sad soul today after talking with one of our maids who called me from jail. Gina was in my 7 Habits class last spring but she left the Philippine Embassy shelter April 6; one of the unlucky ones who had to go to the "detention center" where they are supposed to get processed as undocumented citizens and fly home after a transition of a couple of weeks to a couple of months...she has been there 6 months and "nobody is helping." A text in broken English, then a weepy phone call sent out like a SOS from a sinking boat.

Gina is not just a case number to you God. I spoke to her on your behalf, told her she felt abandoned but you knew where she was and had not forgotten her...6 months in jail (long after the others have been sent home) for being the victim of abuse? I know you love justice so this has got to hurt you even worse than it pierces me. Show me how I can help.

The voice of reason (ie: my husband) says "don't you go near that jail, I don't want to come home and find YOU deported!" Emily tells me to remember, my place is helping them while they are at the shelter...

Gary Haugen (IJM) says "how far do I go? To be brutally honest, as far as I am safe. As far as I am in control. As far as the risks feel manageable. As far as my sphere of certain competence will take me. And consequently, in my secret and most honest moments I sense it doesn't take me very far at all." He goes on in his book Just Courage to ask if God is calling us to be safe or to be brave...

So these are the voices I hear as I go to prayer to ask God to intervene. Fortunately, I have a great relationship with the welfare officer at the Philippine Embassy and she assures me she is checking into it. For now I will resist the urge to grab a bag of supplies and taxi to the deportation center...

Ayisha

September 26, 2010

Year 2 and finally, we have hired a delightful Indian lady to help keep this dust trap clean...meet Ayisha! I met her when she worked for a friend of mine last year. When my friend had to move, she was most anxious to find a good place for her maid to work. Ayisha was already paying for sponsorship through her husband's sponsor/boss and only needed guaranteed work. I knew I could trust her, knew how much she wanted to provide for her two children's education back in India, and felt this would give me even more time to devote to "my girls" at the embassy shelter. We agreed to pay her a monthly salary for two days per week which is 50% more than what my neighbor's maids earn for 7 days per week. I was also able to find another great American family who wanted help 3 days per week to fill out her work schedule.

Ayisha arrives around 8:30 now on Mon & Wed and lets herself in. "Hello Madame" announces her presence but I know she is here when I hear the tiny bells on the bottom of her pants tinkling! She wears the grandest colors & the fanciest clothes I've ever seen anyone clean in. Her matching pants and dresses are trimmed elegantly in beautiful traditional Indian style. Her shyness is slowing dissolving and I'm finding a friend beneath the subservient demeanor she has learned to adopt. Yesterday I paid her extra to come and assist at a baby shower I was hosting (I knew she'd had extra expenses this week) but around the other women from the embassy, she was incredibly shy. She was uncomfortable even coming out of the kitchen to pass out juice or refill tea.

We are getting into a routine where she knows what I always want done, and what can always wait another day... To have my kitchen cleaned & mopped twice a week is so divine. To start the week with all the kids uniforms pressed and hanging up is too good to be true. Not having deep dust on all the furniture around here is such a relief. And coming home on a busy day full of meetings to smell Ayisha's chicken & fried rice on the stove is a little slice of heaven! We now keep her fresh made hummus in the fridge; it's the best in the state. She also loves to make things pretty: she takes pains to artfully garnish her dishes when I have her cook, and the way she arranged the china in the display cupboard was just picture perfect.

Our first few weeks of having her were at the end of Ramadan and she is Muslim. Since she was fasting, we shortened her workday to about 5 hours. We tried not to eat in front of her but she assured us that it was not offensive in the least. As Ramadan was ending, the intensity of their prayers is heightened and she would go to mosque with her husband but pray with the women in a separate place. I suspect the way Asians in this country practice Islam is very different from how Kuwaitis do; especially the women. She is devoted but very non judgemental and open to other faiths. I think she may even go to church with me at some point. We can openly discuss differences in our faith and this week she wanted to know the difference in Catholics & our church. As I was praying for her one day I asked God how I could help her. The answer came so clearly: pray for her children, so I asked her their names & if I could help her pray for them. She looked at me with disbelief, then great joy. She said usually Muslims pray only for themselves but believed it was good to pray for others. She wrote down the names of her children then sheepishly added her sister's little girl to the list because she is very dear to her. Her sister is the caretaker for her 2 children while she and her husband labor here to send them to private school. They have not seen the children for one and a half years. This is the price anyone without adequate means of education & employment must pay in order to secure a better future for their own children in a country where there is not enough to go around. To spend money on a ticket home, or save that precious cash to buy internet access for her teenage daughter who was given a laptop by Ayisha's last employer?? These are the choices she must make.

Ayisha & her husband live in a cramped 3 room apartment at the building his employer owns where he is a caretaker. This tiny space was cooled by a small air conditioning unit which quit working last week. This boss, which she says is really "good" refused to fix or replace the A/C and his wife was annoyed that they should ask. It is still around 120 degrees here in the day and impossible to survive in such conditions without air. They had to come up with the money to buy their own unit. Likewise, this "good" boss requires them to pay for electricity they use in a country where energy is free to Kuwaitis. We think nothing of lighting this enormous house and cooling every room to 70 degrees but when asked why she did not use the crock pot my friend gave her, she said it would cost too much to keep it on for the time it would take to cook.

Today Ayisha is very worried about the potential for violence when the supreme court in India announces the verdict of a ruling on a major dispute over an area considered sacred to both Hindu & Muslims. This announcement is due tomorrow and in anticipation of violence the whole country is under curfew and schools & businesses are closed. She wonders why they can't just share the space? Ditto in Jerusalem...

What a joy to get to know this bright & pleasant lady. The pics are from my Birthday when Emily asked her to bring her supplies for henna so we could both get temporary tattoos. She obliged with great delight. She free-handed the intricate drawings which are traditionally used for any kind of celebrations, especially for weddings. Brides would be elaborately decorated on the night before their wedding. The color lasts for around a week. After the thick stuff dries, we wash it off and the stain underneath stays on. What fun!

I just love seeing the interesting parade of people God puts in our lives. I am a firm believer in divine appointments; what an awesome God we serve!