Eight months ago.
I had recently left my job and was studying for the GRE. I was growing ever more depressed and, although I enjoyed practicing dozens of math, at times it became very stressful. To ease my mind, I decided I would sew. I learned how to sew using patterns in high school, but I wanted to challenge myself by learning to hand draft clothes using measurements and mathematics. I would spend hours on end running math calculations as I tried to convert the flat fabric into a 3d rendition of a sleeved-blouse, skirt, and pant. I was using all of my GRE math: fractions, geometry, and linear equations, to get the lines to perfectly adapt to my body.
Fast-forward to present day.
When I moved to Equatorial Guinea, I lugged my now-obsolete Kenmore sewing machine across the globe with me. I knew that on the continent tailoring was still a prevalent industry and I didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity to learn from master tailors and seamstresses. A friend from Mali helped me to find a woman to come to my house and work with me once a week.
Halima is from Ivory Coast. Our first assignment was to make a dress together. After designing on the design she took my measurements and I waited to watch her work. My best friend told me before that “the seamstresses and tailors in Africa do not do all the math I was doing, so I was anxious to see what her process would be like.
While she grabbed the fabric chalk, I started running the numbers in my head: hip measurement=41, divide by 4, add ¾ seam allowance, that would put us at 11 inches for the hip. I’m scribbling away, but Halima just grabs the measuring tape, finds 41 inches, doubles it over, doubles it again, marks that amount right onto the fabric, then adds 2 more inches to that measurement and marks it again.
“the biggest deception of the past thousand years is this: to confuse poverty with stupidity.” ”
No math. No fractions. No algebra.
Just simple and effective folding of the measuring tape.
I felt like all I had learned was a lie.
I had spent so much time stressing over how to find the perfect angles (do I use cos, tangent equations?) and mathmatics.
My mind was blown.
Many people travel to the continent and other “South” countries and they come fully equipped to teach the “locals.” We, and I say we because there was a time when I was in the same boat, grossly underestimate the unique gifts and talents that the local population possess. We see these interactions as a learning opportunity—but for them only.
And that is where we as expats fall short.
I am a highly-systematic person. I have to break things down in a logical, methodical way for me to understand them. This is how I resolve problems and it is also how I learn. Working with Halima has been an interesting experience and she has given my sewing skills perception and depth.
Originally our primary goal is sewing but our relationship has evolved beyond that. We talk. We discuss life. And I’m also learning a bit of French. She has a conversational level of Spanish but when it comes to writing things out or finding a word for a tool in Spanish that neither of us know, we compromise by settling on the French term or she has to explain complex topics in French.
So I’m also learning French from her and she’s learning a little bit of English.
There is a saying that says “everyone person you meet has something to teach you.” I make an active effort to learn a little something from every person here. I’m not just here to lead a project. I’m also here to grow as a person and to help others grow. J