This 26-year-old woman is battling sexism and scammers to turn rural artisans into businesspeople

Last year, Rosh Govindaraj stumbled upon a small leather workshop in Central Java, Indonesia, where Pak Komardi, an artisan with 30 years of experience, brought her rough sketches of bags to life using traditional craftsmanship. A few light bulbs came on in Govindaraj’s head at that point and she started searching for many more such artisans who could make well-made and functional leather bags.

Since then, the 26-year-old Indian has racked up many miles on planes and the backs of motorcycle taxis in her search; she’s lived in villages without hot water, burnt her butt on hot motorcycle seats during long road trips, suffered from frequent food poisoning, and even dealt with rampant sexism and ageism.

Four months in, what started as a weekend “practice” of collecting samples of leather pieces has morphed into a full-time business. Govindaraj quit her job as a tax advisor at PwC in Melbourne, Australia, and developed the online-only luxury leather goods brand Issara. After testing 23 workshops, two finally made the cut in Central Java and Eastern India.

“You should see some of the results from the guys who did not make the cut. I’ve actually cried over these,” says Govindaraj. “We handpicked individuals with intimate knowledge of old-world leather working techniques. Each piece is drafted, hand cut, sewn, and burnished in these workshops by artisans with decades of experience. ‘Modern’ designs are combined with traditional knowhow to create effortless luxury,” she says.

Turning artisans into businessmen

In a male-dominated traditional industry she faced some unique challenges. To begin with, being told during sourcing trips that she shouldn’t be travelling around on her own as “it’s not safe for women” wasn’t very encouraging. Some older male artisans would either flat out refuse to deal with her or deride her decisions in a language they thought she did not understand (she could).

Some of the guys who agreed to work cheated her by raising the price for the bags on the day of scheduled delivery in spite of taking advances. “In a memorable incident, an individual absconded after receiving full payment for an order. He had asked to be paid more than the customary 50 percent as he needed funds for getting married. Trusting him as we had worked closely together for eight months, and as it was someone I wanted a long-term business relationship with, I paid in full,” recalls Govindaraj. She went to his store (in Jakarta) and took some stock as collateral until they shipped the order, but it didn’t work. “This wasn’t a behaviour I was expected to resort [to]. But extreme times call for extreme measures. These experiences make the small wins particularly exhilarating though,” she smiles.

Govindaraj wants to instill a sense of professionalism in all the workshops she deals with. “Indonesia, in particular Java, was a challenge as messages (even the most important ones) are often subliminal. What is said is not necessarily what people mean and you really need to read between the lines,” she says.

Issara has formal contracts with the workshops. “You never want to have to revert to a contract – if it comes to that, the relationship is probably beyond repair anyway – but it is useful as a means to set expectations up front and instill a sense of duty and professionalism. The contracts are in both English and the local language, and set out details including payment terms, delivery timelines, a quality check process, force majeure, confidentiality, copyrights, etc.”

Being more than contract bound