Where did she get that hat?

So, back to Bolivia.

Emilia Laime Vidal is of the Quechua, an indigenous Andean people.  She lives in a mountain village, Arani.  It used to be a fertile place, famous for its strawberry and watermelon crops, but now almost nothing grows there.  Since the 1980s the tropical glaciers that provided ground water for the whole area have been retreating, and the water is drying up.  For several months of the year, until the rains come, the villagers ration what little water there is.  Every twenty days, Emilia's family have 45 minutes in which to collect all the water they can in containers.  It has to last them, for all their needs, until it's their turn again after another twenty days.

The canary in the climate change coalmine, Bolivia has been feeling the effects of global warming for some time. 

Emilia is no stranger to hardship.  Her mother died when she was young, and her father went to look for work in Argentina. Though she desperately wanted to study, her grandmother didn't believe it was worthwhile educating a girl.  And anyway, there wasn't the money.  When the choice came between pencils and books or buying food - well, it wasn't really a choice.  She dropped out of school.

She ended up work for a knitting company in the city.  But meanwhile she siezed every opportunity she could to study, and took courses on women's empowerment, the rights of workers and indigenous people, business studies.  She was one of several women who eventually walked out of the factory because they felt they were being exploited.  In Arani she set up her own knitting cooperative, La Imillia.  In its heyday there were 75 members.

The knitting is exquisite - tiny, perfect stitches creating garments out of the most luxurious alpaca wool.  La Imillia received orders from overseas, and all was going well.  Then a major customer went bankrupt and left the women of the cooperative high and dry.  Many left.  There are now just 11 knitters in the cooperative.

They keep going.  Through Tamara, who runs Kusikuy - a Fair Trade company - they receive orders, some of which are for high-end NYC boutiques.  But orders are tailing off and they struggle.  They have a compound which they built for the cooperative and they'd like to supplement their income by running it as a hotel and bakery, but it's impossible without water.  They need a well, but can't afford to build one.

Emilia, soft-spoken and gentle, is clearly as tough and determined as they come, though.  She's a leading figure in the national Association of Businesswomen, as head of a vast regional delegation and accountant for the whole group.  She said that at first the city women didn't respect her because she always wears traditional dress - the full skirt and pleated blouse in the picture, a shawl and, of course, her hat.  But she soon let them know that she meant business and wasn't just some little know-nothing lady from the mountains.  Her next plan is to open a store in the city, hoping to create a market there for her amazing knitting.

Emilia's determination to educate herself has stayed with her, too.  She's 61 years old, and last year she attained her high school diploma.  When she made that known in one of the talks on Wednesday, her high school audience broke into spontaneous applause.

And where did she get that hat?  Well, it's traditional, 25 years old, and they literally don't make them like that anymore.  The base is crocheted in fine cotton thread, then covered in wood glue.  Finally it is covered in a layer of plaster and polished.  I have never seen or heard of a hat like it.  I would look a fool in a hat like that - but Emilia?  She looked splendid.