That said, after 19 years there, I was looking forward to a new chapter where beautiful things might not be my only catalyst for creativity. But old habits die hard. And when I first arrived in Maputo and everything became too much to bear, I would escape to the Kulungwana Art Gallery. This gallery is located inside the pistachio-green train station downtown, which may or may not have been designed by Gustave Eiffel (of the tower fame), depending on your tour guide. An added plus: If you park outside the station, you can find someone who will wash your car by hand for less than $3.
This gallery changes out its exhibits at a rapid pace. But the one constant was a glassed-in case housing some of the most breathtaking cow horn jewelry I had ever seen–and I've seen some gorgeous jewelry in my time. Just looking at it reassured me that there was beauty to be found amongst the poverty here in Mozambique.
About a month ago, I came to the realization that unemployment doesn't suit me so well. I certainly know how to keep myself busy, but I missed the satisfaction that accompanies a sense of career accomplishment. The problem was that my skill set wasn't much in demand here, and the type of work available didn't exactly fill me with enthusiasm. I actually started thinking about returning to The States, looking for a job, and doing the long-distance marriage thing. In the meantime, I began sending out a few half-hearted emails explaining my background and experience to some Maputo-based contacts Doug had given me.
Within 24 hours, I heard from a consultant whose partner was a jewelry designer named Astrid Sulger...the same jewelry designer whose work I so admired!
I quickly contacted her and we made plans to meet for coffee. This meeting went from me commissioning a necklace to me trying to figure out how to work for her. (I'm not sure if it's Astrid's beauty, immense talent, or experiences she's had while living in Africa the last 14 years, but being around this woman makes me feel about as exotic and interesting as a slice of white bread.)
She invited me to her atelier, located in a nearby township. I was happy to have my friend Andrea in the car with me, because I might have been afraid if I had gone alone. The environment wasn't particularly menacing, but the poor conditions were overwhelming. I felt extremely conspicuous as we drove down a narrow, rutted dirt road, parting groups of adults walking to work and young children on their way to school. All looked at us like "What are you doing here?"
We turned right at the grocery store (an old shipping container about the size of a walk-in closet) and pulled into the workshop. At first glance, it was hard to believe that something as beautiful as Astrid's jewelry was created outside a two-room concrete building without running water. But after spending some time amongst the artisans, I began noticing small details such as the way the sun warmed the cement, the soft hum of the workers chatting amongst themselves in Shangaan, the mandevilla climbing up a wire fence, and a man across the path sweeping the dirt smooth outside his front door. Even the pile of cow horn in the corner of the yard looked like an art installation. It wasn't scary at all. It was a neighborhood, and Astrid was part of it.
She's been at this for five years, and employs a team of 15 young men and women that she has trained. Watching her in action, it's apparent that she's equal parts businesswomen and benefactress. Not only does she offer fair wages, she pays the workers' social security and provides meals. And I don't think her generous spirit only applies to her team: I get the sense that anyone in need who knocks outside her gate is offered assistance. Her patience and third-world acumen sets a wonderful example, since something as inconsequential as an hour-long water outage or absence of internet access can still make me froth at the mouth. Somehow, navigating through the labyrinth that is business in Mozambique, she manages to keep her cool. And the jewelry? I've written the words "wearable sculpture" for ads many times in the past, but this may be the only time I felt it really applied. Everything is made entirely by hand, and the attention to detail is so lovingly rendered that it borders on obsession. I may have been a million miles away from my office at NM, but looking at the jewelry while sitting outside on a folding chair, I had never felt closer. The design integrity, coupled with the heart and soul that went into its production, made me feel like I was home. Honestly, these photos don't do it justice.
I went back to my apartment and immediately started working on a sales/marketing plan. From there, Astrid and I met to discuss ways that I could help grow the business. I've never considered myself much of a salesperson but, turns out, when I'm passionate about something I can give Zig Ziglar a run for his money.
I went by the atelier yesterday to check on some additional inventory that Astrid had on hand. On a previous visit, I had seen an adorable little boy pulling a "truck" (an empty plastic carton) by a string. Yesterday, he was running around poking things with a stick. Apparently, this is an activity best done without pants, since he had shucked his someplace and commenced to playing while wearing bright blue underwear. And while I don't understand Shangaan, I'm pretty sure this little imp talked his toddler sister into hopping into a mud puddle. I guess the power of older siblings is universal.
I had placed a large order of jewelry - the company's largest to date! - to promote and sell while I'm back in The States. Since that time, the artisans have been working long days and weekends in order to meet my deadline. So I told Astrid that I wanted to do something special for them before I left for Texas.
Astrid thought for awhile and told me that they would really like some meat. Not more money. Not time off. Meat. As I mentioned before, she provides meals for them during the work day, but an additional piece of meat is a real luxury. I started thinking about how my energy lags and my attitude slips when I skip a single breakfast, and was embarrassed by my insensitivity.
I can't wait to share the efforts of this talented team with my friends, and hopefully some stores, while I'm home. I've spent the last two weeks working on press kits, ordering labels, trying to make store appointments, and planning private trunk shows. I'm confident that others will find this jewelry as compelling as I do.
But my most important assignment now is finding a way to bring chicken and French fries to some men and women who have shown me that beautiful things are everywhere. And when you find them, they can take you home.
