“So ni-ice, so ni-ice, so ni-ice”

By Stephanie Fox -
Two weeks ago I bought some fabric at the market. One week ago I visited Joyce’s tailor – the tailor doesn’t speak much english so Joyce came along to translate an explanation of the dress and skirt that I wanted made. This week I went to pick it up. The tailor’s shop is something like a ten foot by ten foot shipping container with a small roofed porch out front. There are eight or so young women who work at this shop, who all wear matching dresses made of a green gingham fabric. A table, a shelf and several sewing machines fill the interior of the small box, and there are three more sewing machines on the porch.  I did my best to converse in Twi, which of course is terribly limited, causing the women such delight that the small box immediately felt overflowing with boisterous laughter. The girls asked me if I wanted to try on my clothes to make sure they fit. I wasn’t sure if they were just being polite or if they were expecting me to try it on – and if they were expecting me to try it on, I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to get changed. Stripping down on the porch seemed like the wrong option. Stripping down inside the small box encircled by these women also seemed like a spectacle. I opted for slipping the dress over my clothes inside of the shop. The women helped me into the dress and did up the zipper, then ushered me in front of the mirror on the wall. The dress was beautiful – an impressive tailoring job with far more fine detail than I had expected. It fit perfectly. I ooohed and awwwed to show my appreciation; the women ooohed and ahhhed in admiration; in agreement with their admiration I said, “Yes! It is sooo nice!”  All six women around me erupted into song: “so ni-ice, so ni-ice, so ni-ice”. They bounced around me in a small dance, shaking their bodies and laughing all the while. I blushed, we all laughed – and if the small box was overflowing with glee before I put on the dress, I thought now that it might explode. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Donna, game driver and total badass

By -
Image
In early May, my mom, sister and I went on a safari in Murchison National Park. My mom had booked the trip through a local safari company. When I got word that our safari guide Donna would be picking us up, my ears perked up. Donna. Perhaps a woman safari driver? Huh. That would be cool. Were we that lucky? Yes. Yes we were. It's rare to see women driving in Uganda, let alone driving a standard transmission vehicle, let alone driving tourists around, let alone while simultaneously spotting leopards and lions in a four-wheel drive safari van. Indeed, Donna Katesi is one of four female game drivers currently working in Uganda. People did stare a lot – construction workers literally stopped working and stared, mouths gaping, as we drove by.   Donna is a skilled game driver and total badass. She joked that she makes her way among her male colleagues by being a bully. Case in point – when she sent us off on a boat tour one day, I heard her tell the guide t...
Read more

photos from the month

By -
Image
One day last week, the chimps took us to the top of one of the highest hills at about seven in the morning, just in time to see the sunrise. The hills in the foreground are all part of Kibale National Park, and in the far distance you can see the Rwenzori Mountains. This mountain range is also the border with the Congo. I haven't yet learned what this plant is, but I saw it in the forest this week. Isn't it crazy!? I think probably a fly trap of some sort.  The view from my porch, watching a storm roll in. My house looks just like the other two in this photo - each one is a duplex and I have half the house to myself.  A particularly large elephant, as you can see from this footprint, was hanging out nearby us in the forest a few weeks back. I could also see prints from its wrinkly skin in the mud. I got poured on while I was trying to get to town to get groceries. Luckily anyone will let you stay on their porch to wait it out.
Read more

and we're live

By -
I've spent the last few days setting up shop in Uganda. I unpacked my three pieces of luggage (each weighing in at a full 50 lbs), hired a cook, helped the cook sweep a nest of army ants out of my kitchen, harangued some cooking equipment and bought more groceries than my cook and I could carry. I had five people working on the house today fixing lightbulbs, sweeping off the roof, setting up the kitchen, and literally banging various things back into shape. Then I convinced someone to give me a table, a bookcase and some chairs, and pushed the few pieces of furniture around in circles until finding a satisfying arrangement. Hazah - feels like home. The humidity, the smell of the forest, the rain pounding on the tin roof, the incessant chirping from birds and bugs, the small plumes of smoke rising from village homes, hearing colobus roar in the morning and the rich color of the red dirt roads all bring back fond memories. 
Read more