Volcanoes, Snails, and Cotton

On a recent weekend, we traveled to Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. Crossing the large lake by boat, we stopped in one of the villages along the shore. Each town is named after an original apostle. This village is named San Juan (Saint John). You can look across the lake at the distant volcanoes. All but one is dormant now, but the history of this lake has to be one of turmoil, upheaval and probably death to anyone living nearby.

As we walked along the pier, we watched as a native woman in her tipica blouse and skirt, up to her knees in the water, slowing overturned submerged rocks as if looking for something. We were informed that she was collecting tidbits for dinner. Apparently snail soup is on the menu tonight.

We climbed the steep, shop-lined street, searching for bargains, and enjoying the gorgeous surroundings.

We visited a local shop that sold items made of cotton fabrics, items such as sweaters, table runners, scarfs and carrying bags. One of the vendors offered to show us, from start to finish, the production process. She explained that it all begins with a seed-filled, armful of hand-picked cotton. Once the black seeds are carefully removed, a pinch of cotton is drawn out into a long, consistently thin string of delicate cotton thread. The thread is slowly wound around a wooden, tapered spool. Trudy volunteered to demonstrate the tedious process for us. I was amazed at how well she did. She's a natural!

Next the cotton thread is dyed. This ancient process of dying uses all kinds of natural flower petals and plant roots and crushed plant leaves, each with a different, distinct color base. They even use dried up bugs! What do you think they use for orange dye? Yes, if you thought "carrots," you're right!

Now, a fascinating fact, the women of San Juan La Laguna pick the leaves of a certain plant called Sacatinta, which in English means "to extract color." From those leaves, the women get a light grayish-blue dye for their fabrics. However (and this is the fascinating part) if they harvest those same leaves on the night of a full moon (ewww scary) the dye color turns an intensely rich shade of navy blue. I swear! I'm not kidding! Apparently, the chemistry of the plant is changed so that it results in a totally different shade of blue. Cool, huh?

See the two colors. Amazing!

The native women soak the thread in the specific dye, then boil the thread in banana stalk soup for about an hour to totally set the permanent color into the yarn. Someone, a long time ago, I'll bet from trial and error, figured all of this stuff out!

Look at all the different colored yarns

Next, they stretch the yarn.

And finally begin the weaving process. All is done by hand.

Not just hours, but days go into each weaving project. Then the goal is to sell these items on the street, often for merely a dollar or two.  I really came away with an appreciation for how hard these women work, and how little they earn in return.