Not My Plan...

So I had two zippers break on my brand new dresses.  This was very much not my plan.  It’s much trickier trying to figure out a new solution to even simple problems when you are in a new culture. 

Where do you go?  Who do you ask to fix it?  How much is reasonable to pay? How long would it take, not just the sewing, but the waiting for it to be sewn. And what on earth is the French word for zipper? (It’s une fermeture à glissière, at least according to google translate, but most of the people that I talked to just called it “une fermeture”). 

I met a lady in my neighborhood a week or so back who owns a little dress shop.  I decided to give it a go.  It turns out that “Not My Plan” is exactly “God’s Plan”.  I spent almost an hour in her shop talking with her and getting to know her.  God’s plan=my developing a relationship, getting more settled into the neighborhood, and pressing forward in my French and Wolof learning.  Not My Plan turned out way better than I could have planned.

PS.  She had her assistant fix the two dresses on the spot, she had my name my price (which was stressful, but I think that we were both satisfied), I learned much more about sturdy zippers and the various types of fabric that are here in Senegal.