Tour of the "Factory"

Bhaktapur Streets

Our plane touched down in Kathmandu on April 21, 2019. Kathmandu was muggy, hot and chaotic. We were greeted by the smiling face of our host, who took us in a small car to our accommodations at the Terrace House, run by Sherpa Adventure Gear. The bottom story is a beautiful store filled with inspiring clothing and gear, and the top story is a comfortable Bed and Breakfast, decorated in Tibetan style. On our second day, we were picked up by Kabita, the ever-smiling head of Human Resources, and a brilliant and sharp woman. As we drove through the city, she told us of the very serious impact of the 2015 earthquake on the city. We had already witnessed some of the destruction that couldn’t ever be undone: thousand-year-old temples crumbled to dust, irreplaceable statues and monuments half-demolished. Many sidewalks and buildings were cracked and crumbled. The area of Bhaktapur- a very old city within Kathmandu which once was it’s own kingdom- was another area deeply affected, and it happened to be the place where the production of my beanies was taking place.

We arrived and the van drove us as far as it could into the narrow streets lined with tall brick buildings until the road became impassible. We were ushered out into the mud street and we walked along for a short while, then ducked into a small doorway. All around us had been crumbled buildings and rubble, but inside this small door was a large courtyard with the sun streaming in along the sides of a sun cover. The floor was spread with carpets and several women sat around on the carpets or on a bench, chatting and knitting. This was the factory.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. My worst fears had been a small, cramped basement with sewing machines buzzing in a sweatshop-like atmosphere. But these women were sitting comfortably throughout a small courtyard that was surrounded by a two-story brick building with long, large rooms and wide open windows. They were talking and laughing, and greeted us as we walked in. Kabita introduced us to the manager, who explained that the women were free to work whichever hours they were available. They had less than 30 working full-time at this location. Much of their work was done at home. Kabita explained that traditional Hindu women were not allowed to work. They were expected to keep house and care for children and elderly parents. As a consequence, they are required to rely on fathers, sons, husbands and brothers for money, and they are rarely given money of their own to spend. However, this clever production company found a solution that gave the women money and allowed them to stay home. The women would come pick up yarn, thread and materials from the “factory”, and then knit the product at home according to a pattern. As we talked, one women entered with a trash bag full of beanies, which were counted out, and then she was given money for the load. They have the option to earn enough to support themselves, while having time to take care of their family.

Kabita also pointed to a holiday schedule hanging on one wall of all the days the women had off to celebrate various Hindu holidays. “There are many holidays, sometimes the beanies take time to make” she explains. They also had clearly posted emergency exit maps, fire extinguishers and other safety equipment.

While this “factory” may not be up to standards in the United States, what I could see was a small company making a huge impact on the lives of these women. Within this culture, in Nepal, these women had few options. Their lives were pre-determined and carefully planned by their families, but not by themselves. The pride they got from taking home some cash, and the time they were allowed to spend outside of the home seemed to be helping them rebuild after the devastation of the earthquake that had killed friends and family members, and in some cases, taken everything they had. Here was a small space, a safe haven amidst the chaos and rubble, where these women could relax and be among other mothers and sisters and daughters. The feeling of community and well-being was overwhelming. My heart was set at ease to see what an impact my small orders of beanies made in the lives of real people, all the way across the world. As we left the manager reminded me, “Please make an order soon! We will wait for your design.” I promised him that we would.