I never realized starting a business would include creating our own distribution center.

It was a very exciting day for us as we shipped our first nationwide order to Nordstrom.  Not only is the partnership a big accomplishment, but actually getting the shipment packed & out the door is a huge feat!

Most large companies work with distribution centers who ship everything according to industry standards.  However, we’re not that fancy.  So Team Della had the task of becoming our own distribution center: tagging, labeling, organizing, processing, creating detailed packing slips, bills of lading, electronically corresponding with the receiving company, and shipping within the deadline.  We even had to use a specific type of tape to seal every box.

After 3 weeks, 80 hours and more than 12 pairs of helping hands, we did it!

And to illustrate just how much we enjoy the rainy season, here is a short video of Chandler doing just that: http://vimeo.com/37965317

While most Ghanaians like the rainy season, they don't necessarily like to be wet...Edith, for example.

I had decided days ago that I was tired of paying some neighborhood kid to fetch water to fill our two large plastic trashcans- in which we use for bathing, drinking and cleaning around the kitchen. I thought, Hey I could use the exercise, how hard could it be?

“Jerry cans” (pictured) are commonly used through out Ghana for transporting various liquids, yet I soon found out I was the only person in the town to use them for fetching water. You see, if you refer back to The Rules of Ghana post, rule number one clearly states individuals here carry everything on their head, including large buckets of water. Not me; I would be using muscle and a zealous overconfidence. This will be good for the shoulders, I thought…

The tragically heavy jerry cans weigh approx. 60 lbs a piece; the slim and jagged handles cut into my hands and put an astronomical pressure on just the first few finger joints. My hands had been too big to wrap around the entire the razor edged handle. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, my breath shaky.

The whole neighborhood came out to watch this stupid white man struggle to get water 100 yards back to his house; a feat performed flawlessly everyday by the youth and women. There were many lining the path back to the house, and even more waiting by the water well to either receive more water, or to watch me and gossip. Kids walked beside me as sweat spewed from the edge of my lips expelling exhaustive breath; I was gasping for air. The children either taunted me or cheered me on screaming, “Come on now! Walk fast!” and booing when I set the jugs down; others started chanting, “Macho! Macho!” (Some of the adults also joined the cadence, yet I had a slight suspicion their voices were more sarcastic than genuine). Either way- I was the entertainment for the night.

Looking for a solution, I tried to assemble some type of grip system so that I could use my full hand and forearm strength to lift the weight. Like a rag-tag team of experts, the Della women jumped in and had several prototypes ready for me to try out.  Each one failed, and I would stumble back to their creative hands and put trust in their designs. Eventually it was five o’clock and the women left, having their quiet giggles; but those women are awesome and I was grateful for their support in my mission. I was still moving water, slower and slower.

My forearms had turned to Jello, my fingers like spaghetti. An hour and a half after I started, I was done- and I don’t mean finished. I had only filled up one trashcan, but I was broken and somewhat embarrassed. I cursed happily at myself. I had lost, but at least I was done. I threw the jugs on the ground and joined them, making a sweat angel on the hot African earth.

This idea mostly came about from wanting to get exercise, get back into shape- well it must have worked because later that night as I trudged through the candle lit streets, three young Ghanaian women hit on me and asked me out (actually they asked me to buy them dinner, but it’s all the same here), and as they giggled I shoved fried eggs in my mouth frantically trying to recover. I again found myself smiling shaking my head slowly, simply amused by the oddity of my life thus far here in Ghana.

It was a battle.

Cheers,

Chandler

Christine, Akpene, Alice, Edith, Esenam, Lydia, Vida, Victoria, Patience, Emefa, and Ruby

I’m pleased to report that this week, we resumed our sewing program with the Happy Kids. It had taken a brief hiatus, for need of materials and personnel, but it is back in action and doing better than ever. One of our wonderful Della seamstresses, Vida, and I journeyed over to HK yesterday afternoon, and when we arrived the kids had already prepared for us. They brought the table and benches into the courtyard, had set up the machines, and had the other supplies at the ready. We gave hugs and high fives and hand shakes all around, and then quickly got to work — there was a lot of work to be done by a lot of eager people on only two machines — time was of the essence, as the saying goes!

Vida shows Charlotte how to work the machine...

and then Charlotte does it on her own!

Adjusting the needle.

Yaira, Lucy, and Charlotte listening to Teacher Vida.

Vida, myself, and the kids are all looking forward to next week, when we will begin a new project! Stay tuned for more updates.

1. One must carry every sort of object on their head
2. One may bargain prices with almost anything, and should
3. Make all food spicy
4. Blast music at all hours of the day. And night
5. Only blast the 10 songs currently in circulation
6. Don’t lick the stamps (“Post office employees yelled at me” –Capers)
7. Carry toilet paper at all times
8. Don’t worry be happy
9. 5 minutes really means, 35 minutes
10. Don’t forget to snap (Ghanaian handshakes end with a snap of each others middle fingers)
11. Dance at will, when fitting, which is always
12. If one must distinguish their chicken from their neighbors, spray paint that chicken pink

Cheers,

Chandler

Rule #12. This is also our "front yard"

“One cedi, fifty pesewa” She responded for the second time.

It was our first night in Hohoe.

“Right,” I fumbled the slick coins, “I’m sorry, I’m new.”

“I’m Edith,” the young Ghanaian woman replied with a smile.

As the Della team walked back out into the street laughing, I shook my head in amusement.

From that point on, the locals would know me as New.

The local people may call me New, but you can call me Chandler. Chandler was just too hard to annunciate. I am from Austin, TX and studied Communications in college. I believe in good food, good drink and good conversation. I try to be funny sometimes, too often some would say; I try to be an absolutist rarely, and I try to be poetically thoughtful all of the time. I try to live my life in open-mindedness and self-reflection, anticipating adventure. As I try I fail…a lot, yet learning to recognize grim times as growing pains continues as one of the most dynamic lessons learned as I age.

I was hired on to the Della team to oversee daily operations here in Hohoe and assist the company in any way possible- after all T.I.A. (This is Africa. A phrase reserved for bringing amusing comfort in adversity) and simple errands tend to be quite complex. I will be reporting back to you with news surrounding the Della operations, daily life here and hopefully some laughs.

While Ghana is a completely foreign world to me and days are as long as they are exhausting, there is beauty and treasure to be found and enjoyed. The water is forever satisfying, the showers cool and refreshing, towels always warm, friendly people in abundance, food spicy, and relatively tasty beer at a cheap price.

It is a simple life that everyone enjoys together; a vacation from the hustle of my American lifestyle. The spoils of pleasure are simple, yet effective and pronounced.

As I reflected on this truth, I began to consider our vibrantly colorful products at Della. The product echoes not only our story, our mission, but speaks to the gesture of a bigger world- a grander perspective on life. Lost in our own stresses, we forget there are people stretched out the ends of the earth, filled with their own colorful stories of defeat and triumph, that they are integral pieces of the puzzle we struggle to assemble; that we are not isolated, that we are brothers and sisters to the world and its people. Today is too often a platform for the anxieties of tomorrow, but here in Ghana, every day matters. Focuses are centered and central to the present, not cast into tomorrow, 5-year plans and such. Maybe this idea is what I am coming to love about our vibrant products the most- what they represent in these terms.

Everyday here is important, and I am privileged to know these freedoms, to know this peace. Africa is alive my friends.

Cheers,

Chandler

The Della girls and I

Godpaul, the coconut seller. Fresh coconuts? ...Yes please!

At 80 meters, the waterfall at Wli is the highest in west Africa, and sports a lively and large colony of bats who live clinging to surrounding cliffs. The water flowing over the falls actually begins its descent Togo and lands in the pool at the bottom in Ghana, as the falls marks the border between the two countries.

It was a shady and cool 45 minute long hike through the forest to the falls, a welcome respite from the blazing Ghana sun overhead. When we reached the end, we took a short swim, and then settled in to relax and enjoy our surroundings. At one point, hundreds of  bats woke up and flew about madly, and then just as quickly as they came, disappeared back into the folds of the rocks. What mysterious and exquisite creatures they are.

All in all, it was a terrific birthday and a wonderful weekend. I hope yours was, too.

Capers

The waterfall and a reveler.

Friendly bats say, "Hello."

of a bag? of yourself? of others?