Rebuilding Lives, One Handbag at a Time by Louise van Broekhuizen

In Indonesian, “laga” means beautiful, and Laga handbags — which you can find on the arms of many celebrities — are absolutely worthy of their name. We remember seeing these bags on Oprah, and “ooh”-ing and “ah”-ing not just over the gorgeous designs lovingly embroidered by the women of Indonesia but also over the amazing backstory of the couple who founded the company. Roy and Louise van Broekhuizen, Californians of Indonesian descent, were called upon to help out when the devastating tsunami hit in 2004, and while they were there, they came up with a brilliant way for the local women to use their skills to rebuild their community and create a sustainable economy. We were so moved by their story, we asked Louise to tell us more. You will be so inspired by her words — and the harrowing tales of the tsunami survivors, which you can read on the Laga website — you will want to own one of these handbags. Go ahead and buy — this is a no-guilt purchase. By shopping Laga, you are empowering and giving hope to people who have literally lost everything else.

“It’s not about you.”

These are the first words in the book, The Purpose Driven Life, written by Rick Warren, who happens to be my pastor. They are words that made a huge impact on my husband Roy and me. But, as we learned firsthand, it takes more than just words to truly make a difference in the lives of others. It takes action.

And so Roy and I were compelled to say “yes” when we received a call from our church’s Missions Department in January 2005, two weeks following the Boxing Day tsunami whose epicenter was nearest to Banda Aceh, Sumatra, Indonesia, to participate in the initial relief work.

We’d never been there. We didn’t know what to expect. We knew nothing about disaster relief or what we were supposed to do. And we didn’t know that this would turn out to be the worst disaster known in our lifetime.

At first, Roy led medical teams to the affected area and we had no communication between us. Working at my job, underwriting mortgage loans, helped keep me busy instead of letting my mind trick me into thinking that something might go terribly wrong since I hadn’t heard from him for weeks on end.

When he returned home from a trip, I would hear finally hear the heart-wrenching stories about the people he was helping that left us both crying many nights. And then he would be gone again, taking another team on another mission to help provide medical care and food and water and housing for those who were left behind.

After a few weeks we were able to start communicating, and I would sit at my computer, tears streaming down my face, as I read his emails:

“… children taken to orphanages daily; many parents don’t know where their kids are or if they even survived …”

“… large puddles of water, stagnant, not safe so people filling by hand with buckets …”

“… children are collecting bricks and knocking off cement and selling for 100Rp (.01 cent) so families can buy fuel to cook …”

“… 10 year old girl has been bleeding from her nose for two days and the family didn’t have funds to take her to the clinic; we were able to assist and she is now better …”

“… Red Cross volunteer was shot today …”

“… all fuel costs have increased in country by 50-100%, protesting breaking out – please pray for everyone’s safety …”

“… draining system totally broken, dangerous for travel …”

“… bodies still being recovered, 250-300 per day …”

“… mass grave with estimated 36,000 unidentified bodies, some stacked 20 deep …”

Roy made many trips back and forth before I reached the point where I couldn’t just listen anymore. Knowing there were so many people suffering, staying at home was no longer an option for me. Unbeknownst to my husband, I gave my two weeks notice at work and when he came home from his trip I told him that I would be going with him next time.

I can safely say he was a bit surprised that I was following my heart instead of my head. After all, I would no longer be receiving an income. How would we live?

My first trip to Aceh took place in July 2005. As I looked out of the airplane window, I was shocked that I was able to see so much damage and removed coastline from so high up in the air.

When we landed, the humidity was overwhelming. And, on our way to the house where we would be staying, I couldn’t help but notice an overpowering stench in the air that I could only describe as rotting flesh. That is exactly what it was. Roy pointed out the mass graveyard to our left that he spoken about many times, and my eyes began to fill with tears.

The majority of people had been placed in IDP (internally displaced persons) camps. With torrential rains and the high humidity, conditions were sometimes unbearable. But it takes time to build homes, and much of the construction was delayed. Since most of the paperwork verifying land ownership had washed away, it was up to the village leaders to verify this information, making delays inevitable.

People posted pictures of their loved ones on the walls of the city in case anyone recognized them or could provide any information. Many just stayed in one place, hoping to hear any news of their family members.

Many of my travels to Aceh are just a blur to me now; the overwhelming emotions one experiences on these types of trips are difficult to put into words. But one thing that was clear to me was that we had to do whatever we could do to help, whether that meant digging ditches, building houses, providing medical and/or trauma care, or just being a friend to those who lost everything, and even to those who had come from all over the world to work in the trenches to care for these people.

There was so much that needed to be done.

During my first trip to Aceh, I met a woman who showed me some beautiful embroidered handbags made locally from animal-friendly nylon-polyester material and cotton-polyester embroidery thread. These water-resistant handbags were lightweight and the hand-guided embroidery was absolutely stunning.

I decided to bring some of these beautiful bags home with me to see if I could raise some additional funds for the tsunami relief effort. I invited 20 of my closest friends and family members to a home party and raised $2000!

On our next trip we purchased more handbags and held several more parties. Everyone was eager to help, and our guests even volunteered to host parties of their own.

That’s when it dawned on us that we could start a business model that would create jobs and long-term sustainability for these people who so desperately needed help. No longer would they have to depend on hand-outs and charity; they would be able to provide for themselves and what was left of their families.

We were so excited. Each trip, we brought home more and more boxes full of handbags; first there were three, then seven, then eleven, then twenty four … It was at that point that we realized this could really work, and we knew we had to make some concrete plans.

We rented a building for four years, and put together a small workshop consisting of twelve foot-powered, non-electric sewing machines, twelve women and one manager/trainer. We began a training program to embroider and construct refined and quality handbags for the US market and Laga Designs International, Inc. was born.

This was in August 2006, and we have been improving on quality and production ever since. We are proud that we have grown to be able to provide sustenance for over 300 people throughout the province of Aceh, Sumatra, Indonesia to this day.

I know that there have been many disasters since that December day that changed our lives. I wish more than anything that we could help the people in those other areas of the world who have suffered, too. But the reality for us is that we know the need in Aceh continues and we are committed to that need. Perhaps one day, when Laga becomes a household name, we will be able to reach out and help others.

Wouldn’t that be something?