Fixing flip-flops

I often preach "reduce, reuse, recycle" (in that order), but I suppose one thing missing from the equation  that I've learned and adopted is "use till it's useless." My experience abroad has given me a deep appreciation for using something until it's broken or absolutely does not serve its original purpose anymore. What the people of developed countries consider "used", the poor in the developing countries  often consider "new". 

I learned to respect the life of a pair of flip-flops while living in Nigeria. The cheap Chinese flip-flop was a staple of Nigeria, available in every village, town, and city for a very cheap price. Still, for the average villager where I lived, it was still a big expense. At least enough of an expense to literally wear them out before replacing them. Often times you'd see people still wearing them with a huge hole in the heel or better yet, small pieces ripped off to use as a fire starter (popular method in the village). 

I learned that the first thing to go on a flip-flop is the bit that holds the strap to the sole of the flip-flop. These often pop out and sometimes it's as simple as popping them back in. However, when that piece is finally broken, a replacement can easily be stitched in. 

My sister gave me a pair of flip-flops from her trip to Australia (and where she current resides). She knows me and my lifestyle well, so the gift was right on point. I have recently started to wear them and although the graphics on the top of the sole are wearing out, the flip-flops are very thick with seemingly months of heavy use ahead. Therefore, I was disappointed when the sandal broke while I was walking the other day. I quickly tied a piece of plant fiber through the hole and connected it to the strap so I could make my way home (see picture below). 

The broken flip-flop with plant fiber temporary repair. 

The next day I took my flip-flop to a makeshift shoe repairman in town. The entrepreneur had a small tarp he had placed in an alley way with a small chest filled with shoe repair material. In case you questioned the legitimacy of his business in downtown Moshi, his small chest was properly labeled in English "SHOE REPAIR". He also shared the alleyway with a make-shift convenience store, two make-shift restaurants, and a make-shift belt and hat salesman. 

Repair man works his magic. 

For 500 Tanzanian shillings ($0.30) I got a new part stitched into my flip-flop, restoring it to its previous glory. The flip-flop has been working perfectly and I hope to get a few more months out of it. The best part is, when the flip-flops are finally finished and trashed, I'm sure just like an old car, someone will "part out" the pieces and reuse them in a creative way. 

The new piece, stitched and ready to go.