Woven Threads: Understanding the Production and Marketing of Textiles and the

Perceptions of Traditional Dress in Santa Cruz la Laguna

Kristen Hardy

Plymouth State University

klhardy@plymouth.edu

Abstract

Weaving and textile production have been an important part of Guatemalan culture for

hundreds of years. This exploratory study discusses aspects of production and marketing, as well

as the perceptions of the weaving community and traditional dress in Santa Cruz la Laguna as a

means of understanding the local cultural tradition and trade. By conducting seven weeks of

hands-on fieldwork and collecting qualitative and quantitative data from 38 sources, including

locals, foreigners and tourists alike, I was able to develop a deeper understanding of the weaving

skill and traditional dress and what it means to not only locals but foreigners as well. Weaving is

not only culturally and traditionally important to the people, and more importantly the weavers,

of Santa Cruz la Laguna, but it is also a way for them to earn some money while sharing a part of

their history with the outside world.

Resumen

Tejiendo y la producción textil han sido una parte importante de la cultura guatemalteca

durante cientos de años. Este estudio exploratorio analiza aspectos de la producción y la

comercialización, así como las percepciones de la comunidad el tejido y el vestido tradicional en

Santa Cruz la Laguna como un medio para comprender la tradición cultural local y el comercio.

Mediante la realización de siete semanas de práctica en el trabajo de campo y la recolección de

datos cualitativos y cuantitativos de 38 fuentes, incluidos los locales, los extranjeros y turistas

por igual, tuve la oportunidad de desarrollar una comprensión más profunda de la habilidad y lo

que significa no sólo locales sino extranjeros, así . El tejido es no sólo culturalmente y

tradicionalmente importante para la gente, y lo más importante los tejedores, de Santa Cruz la

Laguna, pero también es una manera de ganar algo de dinero mientras comparte una parte de su

historia con el mundo exterior.

Introduction

If you were to ask the inhabitants of Santa Cruz la Laguna, "Who is weaving in the

community?" you would likely hear that the majority of women across a broad range of ages are

weavers. Starting at around 10-12 years of age, young girls begin to learn the trade and continue

to use the skill throughout their lifetimes. In the past, most of the women learned the craft of

weaving from their mothers or grandmothers, which continues to be the trend. Grandmothers and

mothers alike believe that weaving is an important cultural tradition and is a way for them to

remember their ancestors. Modernization and technology have led to the introduction of new

ways of continuing the trade for some, although they are not widely accepted throughout the

community. Women and young girls have the opportunity to take classes not only in weaving

but also in embroidery at the town's Centro de Capacitación or training center. The fact that they

have to pay to attend, however, makes it difficult for many interested weavers who simply

cannot afford the classes. In addition, many weavers believe that hand-embroidered pieces are

more valuable than their machine-made counterparts. For this reason, many weavers prefer to

stick to the traditional hand-woven embroidery techniques. Eye problems and other priorities,

like taking care of the family and the home, seem to be the main reasons why many weavers start

to find other ways to occupy their time or make money as they get older. The grand majority of

the weavers I spoke to told me that weaving is an important source of income for their families,

even if they are selling their products on an infrequent basis and earning minimal funds from

their sales. As one informant put it, "every little bit helps." Although weaving generates income,

the material and overhead costs are high and the process is time-consuming. The infrequency of

sales and the lack of a market to sell them in mean that the weavers are not earning large sums of

money from the trade. For this reason, many women find that they only weave every once in a

while or when they have sufficient money to purchase the materials. Weaving is a way for the

local people to hold on to a part of their past and feel a connection to their ancestors. It's a

beautiful trade that deserves to have a story.

The purpose of my study was to investigate and understand the process of producing and

marketing textiles as well as the perceptions of traditional dress in Santa Cruz la Laguna. In

addition to this, I worked to understand those who weave, those who purchase the weavings and

their perceptions of the items made, and the skill as a whole. I took an exploratory approach and

aimed at understanding the general structure of each of the categories above. The colors and

patterns used on huipiles, or the traditional blouse worn by local women, tell a story about the

area's culture, its history and about the beautiful people who wear them on a day to day basis.

Other textile items, while not as historically important, hold cultural significance that seems to be

misunderstood or unheard of by the gaggles of tourists and foreigners purchasing them from

street vendors and in markets throughout Guatemala.

I think the story of weaving and textiles is an important one to tell because the trade has

evolved greatly over a short period of time and it is important to understand how it has evolved

in the more recent past. By speaking to locals, I was able to document traditions of the weaving

community and ideas about Santa Cruz's traditional dress. The weaving story of Santa Cruz is

important because there are not nearly as many visitors to this town compared with other towns

around Lake Atitlan, there are no markets and only two stores aimed at selling textile goods, but

there is still a large percentage of women weaving in the town. It's interesting to note that the

women continue to weave despite the small numbers of people coming to buy their goods. This

has led me to believe that weaving may not just be about making an income and bringing in

tourists, but also about preserving a traditional cultural practice. Many of the women in Santa

Cruz will tell you that they are weavers, but the community does not draw the same crowds of

textile-purchasing tourists as do towns such as San Juan la Laguna, San Pedro la Laguna or

Panajachel. Their trade is beginning to be taken over by slick, technologically-advanced

machines that can produce masses of textiles faster than a traditional weaver can thread her

needles. Before the machines encroach too much on the local trade, my goal throughout my time

in Santa Cruz was to learn as much as possible about how it all works here. This paper discusses

the textile process from start to finish and from many different points of view. I start by detailing

how weavers make the textile items, the materials and tools they use, the colors and patterns they

choose and their significance, and how much time and money is put into the skill. Once an item

is made, it is often sold somewhere to someone; therefore, I write about the marketing of textile

goods in Santa Cruz and how items are sold despite the lack of a distinct, physical marketplace.

Finally, I discuss how tourists and locals think about the textile goods that are produced in Santa

Cruz and surrounding areas, and what they mean to different individuals. In the section below,

you will find a description of the site where I collected my data and performed my research.

Santa Cruz la Laguna

Santa Cruz la Laguna is a 97% indigenous community perched on the hillside of Lake

Atitlan in the western highlands of Guatemala. Speaking to a representative at the town's

municipal building, I learned that the pueblo's 2,157 inhabitants are an almost even split of

women and men. The only way for anyone to access the town and its magnificent Kakchiquel

Maya culture is by boat. While there is a small and dangerous dirt road which leads to Sololá, it

is only used for the transportation of heavy goods and machinery that are brought into the town.

Locals do not recommend this route for any modes of transportation unless it is completely

necessary, as it is not safe for a variety of reasons. The shores of the community are decorated

with a handful of small hotels and restaurants that bring in some tourists looking to scuba dive,

take yoga classes, kayak, hike, or simply relax . These institutions help the locals inhabitants by

providing economic opportunity, but there is much more to this tight-knit community than that.

Up a twisting, steep mountain road, away from the homes of expatriates and weekend

tourist accommodations, sits the heart of Santa Cruz la Laguna, a town saturated in culture and

tradition. There is a clear divide between the locals residential area of town and the place where

tourists and foreigners reside. Foreign homes very rarely go above the invisible divider starting

at the first curve of the road. The local people speak a mixture of their native tongue,

Kakchiquel, and Spanish. Unlike many of the surrounding communities, Santa Cruz la Laguna

does not have a local market and there is only one local restaurant. There are two schools for

basic education, although a staggering 73.4% of the population is illiterate and many people have

only received some primary schooling (Maya Medical 2006). The central area of town, known as

the cancha, is home to the municipal building, a health clinic, the schools, an eloquently

constructed church, and a library which is currently under construction. This plaza area is a

meeting place for people of all ages to come together. Young children play games and run

around, adults gather to share stories and talk about the day's work, and it is the place where

town announcements are broadcast to the community.

The sounds of children playing and laughing, babies crying, roosters and chickens

squawking and cooing, and dogs barking fill the space between the two mountains where Santa

Cruz is situated. In addition to these sounds, the sharp tones of Kakchiquel and the loud church

music can be heard almost anywhere in the town throughout the day. House fires for cooking or

heating the temascal (sauna-like bathing room) make the entire town smell of firewood.

Occasionally, the bricked oven and maize smell of corn tortillas float around the community

making my stomach grumble.

Women walk around in their beautifully decorated traditional outfits to visit with

neighbors and family or run errands. The bright yellow and purple triangles and varying shades

of blue and green patterns that cover lengths of their huipiles (traditional blouses), zig-zag

through the confusing set of local streets and pathways, coloring the pueblo (neighborhood) in

culture. Walking through residential sections, there is a very noticeable difference between the

homes along the lake, owned by expatriates and foreigners, and the residences of the local

people. In this area, homes appear to less meticulously kept. The grand majority of dwellings

(85%) have a least a partial, if not a whole, cement base structure. Roofs are mostly made from

scrap metal which is almost always littered with red and orange splotches of rust. There is a mix

of extremely poor homes, characterized by wattle and daub-type structures, scrap metals and

scrap wood roofs and siding, and homes whose owners seem to be a bit more well-off,

characterized by cinderblock and cement structures, windows with glass and more secure

roofing. The homes are knit together and accessed by a series of maze-like paths which bounce

back and forth along the mountainside. There is hardly any space between them and they stack

atop one another like Legos. It is inside these homes and behind closed doors where the

magnificent huipiles (traditional blouses), rebosas (woven scarves) , napkins, tablecloths and

other textile goods come to life.

Background Information

Before I began my on-site data collection, I did some research on what was already

known about textiles and weaving in Guatemala. Although I didn't come across any information

on the textile or weaving industry in Santa Cruz la Laguna specifically, I did find some

information about the significance of the traditional blouse, known as the huipil. This helped me

to formulate some questions for my informants about the colors and patterns on the huipiles and

the think about the difference in importance and significance that they may hold today.

In his book, Weaving Space: Textiles and Tales from Guatemala, David Greene states

that, for centuries, textiles throughout Guatemala and other Central American countries served as

a way to determine a person's native village. During colonial times, the Spanish caught on to this

and used this as a means to control the people. They would be forced to wear the textiles of their

village so they could be identified and then they would be targeted for one thing or another.

Greene mentions that this village-specific clothing has been a choice and a style for Maya

women of the Guatemalan highlands for at least 150 years, if not more. He says that there was a

point in time where most any woman could tell you the name of the village where a textile

originated by looking at it, although it was later realized that the patterned system was not as

rigid as originally thought. Men in certain communities began wearing more practical clothing at

one point, and the system of traditional dress changed noticeably over time. Green also mentions

that this change in style may not be solely out of practicality but also out of personal choice. He

states that in many of the large markets throughout Guatemala, women may either buy and use

textiles from other villages, or use those textiles as inspiration for motifs, colors, or patterns on

their own works. Greene believes that this change may signify the dying importance of the trade

and the significance of the goods made, or it could also suggest that a village identity is less

important to the wearers (Greene 2009). Reading Greene's book, I wondered if there was still a

specific textile pattern that weavers use in Santa Cruz la Laguna and how it may have changed

over the years. The data (listed in the production section) is very interesting.

Before I arrived in Guatemala, I had little to no knowledge of any aspect of the

production or marketing of textiles in Guatemala. I knew from speaking with some professors at

my university that the idea of being able to identify a person's home village based on the textiles

they wore was not always a positive thing for the local people, and that it led to conflicts and

violence at times. Regarding the production of the items, I knew that the back strap loom was a

common tool, but that there were bound to be many other methods of creating this textile art. I

think this lack of knowledge allowed me to look at this a bit more objectively, as I learned about

the different processes, perceptions and ways of dealing with textile goods in the community.

Methodology

I took a mixed-method approach comprised of ethnography and participant observation in

order to complete my research in Santa Cruz la Laguna. I used questionnaires, participant

observations, time allocations, a free-list pile sort, a photo elicitation, a focus group and

miniature interviews to collect the data and understand the study. I used a quantitative

questionnaire as a way to gain some basic demographic information from my informants as well

as to get a feel for the types of questions I could use to probe further in the future. My 5 hour

time allocation and multiple miniature observations gave me the opportunity to see how the back

strap loom is used and what other materials are important to the production of textile products.

The data collected from the free-list pile sort and the photo elicitation provided insight into the

local and foreign perceptions of weaving in Santa Cruz la Laguna specifically and in Guatemala

as a whole. Finally, the focus group that I created gave me a general sense of multiple aspects of

the production and perceptions of weaving and the marketing of goods.

My sample was comprised of 18 local female weavers, as well as 20 arbitrarily-chosen

tourists or foreigners. Foreigners gave me an outside perception of the weaving world, while

weavers and locals gave me the inside view on the production, marketing and perceptions of

weaving. I used convenience sampling and snowball or chain-referral (with the help of my host

mom) to reach informants and learn about weaving. I had significant difficulty with language

barriers between English, Spanish and Kakchiquel and also encountered meaningful resistance

from the local people who weren't openly willing to sharing these aspects of their culture with

me. The vast majority of people in town, with the exception of the younger generations who are

in school now, only speak Kakchiquel. Spanish is a secondary language at best and is not an

essential language to the local people since the town is rather separated from the areas

frequented by tourists. 97% of the population are Kakchiquel Maya and cultural preservation is

very important to the local people; therefore, learning Spanish is not a priority for the residents.

My host mother proved to be an invaluable resource in helping me to connect with the local

people and collect the information I needed. She translated for me and introduced me to many

local weavers who often only shared bits and pieces of information, but I was ultimately able to

develop a comprehensive picture from the information they provided. I can never be totally sure

that the information my host mother translated to me was exactly what my informants were

saying but I believe that she did her best to share their thoughts and opinions.

Production

In this section of my paper, you will read about the various aspects of textile production

as they function in Santa Cruz la Laguna. I will discuss a day in the life of a local weaver; the

materials, tools and methods used in the weaving and embroidery process; how the colors and

patterns are chosen and what they represent or signify; how much time it takes to make certain

textiles, and how the production aspect of weaving is modernizing in the community.

Materials in the Textile Production and their Cost

Inside the kitchen area of a modest, L-shaped home, a woman wearing a bright purple

huipil (traditional blouse) bearing the trademark Santa Cruz volcanoes and water patterns, a

black corte (skirt) with horizontal embroidery and a purple and gold threaded liston (ribbon),

and a traditional hair wrap, stands bent over a large wash basin scrubbing the dirt out of a

mountain of laundry. "Tiox," (a typical Kakchiquel greeting) my host mother calls out to make

our arrival known. "Tiox," the 45 year old woman echoes, welcoming us to sit down on the

cement step which lines the outside of her home. Moments later, she walks outside and begins to

set up the traditional back-strap loom while conversing with my host mother in Kakchiquel. She

attaches one corner of the traditional, human- run "machine" to the support beam just below the

roofing across from the place where my host mother and I sit. She walks backwards to unravel a

hammock of rows of black, royal blue, leaf green, deep purple and dark brown strings. She tells

me that the string she uses is called sedalina (a form of cotton) and that she is making a series of

servilletas (napkins). She places a small cushion on the ground and sits on her knees with her

feet pointed toward the sky. Her grandchildren, ages two and four, run around the outdoor space

playing with cars and using the loom as a bridge to run under. They poke and prod at the

different tools holding the threads of the loom in place and try to get their abuela (grandmother)

to join in the fun. She kisses each of them and begins the process of weaving. A wooden comb

separates fabric near the bottom of the piece so that she can run a line of thread between the

layers of string. Next, she pushes the wooden comb down with great force to create a newly-

finished row. She pulls the comb out and lifts up a threaded dowel that separates the layers of

fabric like glue. She effortlessly moves the dowel in a swift up and down movement and threads

the comb in between the layers. Yanking the comb down once more, she finishes off the new row.

She continues this pattern of movements for half an hour while she converses in Kakchiquel with

my host mother, interacts with her grandchildren and answers some of my questions. Her face

has a beautifully worn-in smile that never leaves throughout my entire visit. She shifts about on

the cushion, as though the position she sits in is uncomfortable and her legs are restless. She

weaves rapidly, like a well-oiled machine, completing almost 6 inches of fabric in half an hour.

Stripes of color become sturdy pieces of cloth which will eventually be used to hold tortillas,

carry groceries or protect the consumer's head from the sun.

As you can see, weaving is a rather tricky skill and my informants were experts at

making the task appear relatively easy. In the excerpt above, a variety of tools and materials were

used in the process of making napkins. In general, weaving is a very material-heavy trade. The

first and most important material used in weaving is the yarn. Throughout my research, it came

to my attention that there are an assortment of different kinds of yarn that are used for a variety

of reasons. My weaving informants told me that they primarily use a mixture of the following

three types of string:

1. Algodon/Alemania (a pure form of cotton) - a soft and silky thread made from 100%

cotton. This yarn loses its color easily and is the most expensive at 65Q a pound.

2. Sedalina (a form of cotton) - the most widely-used yarn which does not lose its color.

Durable, but not too thick and reasonably priced at 35Q per pound.

3. Lana(a form of wool) - thick and glossy thread. Feels rough after wear, but is the least

expensive of the three all at 25Q per pound.

Sedalina is often used in the making of items like napkins, huipiles (traditional blouse),

rebosas (woven scarves), tablecloths and bed covers. It is not anywhere close to the texture of

algodon or alemania which are much more attractive to tourists and foreign markets. Lana is

typically used to make embroideries on items like huipiles and cortes (traditional skirts),

although there are a handful of other kinds of yarns that are used as well. The weavers I spoke

with buy their yarn, or hilo, from markets in Sololá and Panajachel because it is less expensive

there. There are two tiendas (stores) that sell yarn in the town, but they charge significantly more

for the additional cost of the yarn’s transportation to the town and are therefore not as willing to

bargain with the weavers for lower prices. This is in part because one of the stores sells yarns

that were dyed naturally, but many women don't see the point in purchasing the natural-dyed

yarns when they cost so much.

After the yarn is purchased, it is fed onto a wooden device called the carreta, known as

the warp mill in English. This device, seen in Figure 1, is used in conjunction with the püinib'al

(warp frame), seen in Figure 2, to prepare the yarn to be put on the loom. First, it is spun onto

the carreta in a circular manner and then the end string is pulled around the püinib'al. The

püinib'al looks like a pegboard with circular dowels made of wood that stick up about 6 inches

from the surface of the device. These 'pegs' are used to secure the yarn in place and stretch it to

various sizes, depending on which item the weaver is making and how much material she needs.

This task is generally completed in about an hour, depending on the speed on the weaver and the

size of the material she is preparing.

The most important device for weaving is called the back strap loom (kem in

Kakchiquel). The loom is comprised of many parts that each have their own importance and use,

see Figure 3. As was noted in the introduction to this section, there are numerous steps to

completing a finished row of material on the loom. First, the loom is attached to a sturdy wooden

post or frame while the weaving end is fastened to the weaver. She stands or sits on the ground in

varying distances (depending on the size of the material) in order to create the just the right

amount of tension between the threads. Tension is important because it gives the material a much

tighter and more “put together” look when finished. A wooden 'needle' wrapped with thread is

used to make horizontal rows between the sections of vertical material. This piece is looped

through a gap made by the wooden comb, which is used to keep tension and pull the threads

together. There is a threaded dowel located above the wooden comb that is connected to the top

and bottom layers of yarns. This piece serves as the glue, so to speak, and pulls apart the material

that is pushed into a new row. Up above the threaded dowel is a plastic tube that holds tension

and separates the section of threads that is being worked on from the section of untouched

threads. On both the weaver’s end and the post end, there are two dowels of wood that serve to

hold the entire middle section of the loom together. The vertical sections of yarn are fastened to

these ends with tight knots that don't move or come undone.

Oftentimes, the entire length of material fastened on the loom will not be used. This is

because it becomes increasingly difficult for the weaver to move the materials as the sections of

the top and bottom become closer to one another. Toward the end of a piece, the weaver will

disconnect the material from the loom when there is about 4-7 inches of unwoven material left.

The leftover material, which is still attached to the item, is used to tie off ends and is then cut off

and recycled for future projects. Throughout the weaving process, the woman will roll the

finished sections of material every 15-30 minutes, depending on how quickly she weaves and

how much material has accumulated. Generally, the material is rolled up every time 5-8 inches

of weaving are completed.

It takes time to become skilled in the use of the back strap loom. The women of Santa

Cruz make a mixture of huipiles, rebosas (woven scarves), napkins, tablecloths, bed covers,

purses, belts, and bags. Many of my informants told me that rebosas are one of the trickiest items

for them to make. In comparison with the other items, rebosas typically take much more time to

prepare, are most costly and take more strength to properly weave. The idea of making an item

that may not be considered fit for sale contributes to the reasons why only a handful of women in

the town make this item. All of my weaving informants indicated that they typically buy their

cortes from the markets in Sololá or Panajachel. It is more cost-effective for them to purchase

than it would be for the women to make their own cortes by hand. It costs around 90-120Q to

purchase the material, which they then hand-embroider.

Weaving on the loom is not the only way that women in Santa Cruz la Laguna are

contributing to the textile process. Hand-sewn embroidery is another skill that many women

have utilized over the years to enhance the woven fabrics. When asked what their favorite aspect

of the textile production was, all members of my focus group indicated that it was embroidery

for them. Embroidery is used to embellish textiles like the huipiles, cortes and fajas of the local

women and can also be seen on purses and bags. Women use a thick, 3-inch needle and thread

of their choosing when making these patterns. Although in the past, patterns were very specific

to the towns where the weavers were located, women nowadays will either make patterns of their

own choosing or produce something according to their clients specifications.

Determining Colors and Patterns

The traditional traje (outfit), which includes the huipil (traditional blouse), corte

(traditional skirt) and faja (belt), is decorated with various unique patterns and colors that can

indicate where the wearer is from. Although modernization means that the "one village-one

textile," rule is no longer a given, there are still many older-generation women who wear the

traditional traje of their towns. Santa Cruz la Laguna has a very identifiable traditional huipil, as

can be seen in the example in Figure 4. The most traditional huipil from the community will

consist of red base material, yellow and purple threads around the collar (usually in the shape of

triangles with other decorative patterns surrounding) and a variety of blended blue and green

patterns across the upper back. The red color signifies blood, or the blood of the ancestors of the

people of Santa Cruz. The yellow and purple threads are meant to signify two types of corn that

grow in the area and are of the same color. The blues and greens integrated in the large block of

patterns on the back are meant to represent nature and, more specifically, the lake and the

mountains that surround the area. Purple is often used to represent love or a long-lasting life,

while black (especially on the huipiles) is meant to represent darkness or night.

There are numerous unique patterns on the huipil and corte of Santa Cruz la Laguna that

also hold importance to the local people. First, the triangles that wrap around the collar represent

the Tolíman, Atitlán, and San Pedro volcanoes, which border the lake. The volcano pattern was

introduced to the Santa Cruz design sometime in the last 50-60 years, according to my

informants. As can be seen in figure 1, the > shaped pattern on the top row of the back section

and the stacks of three small, left-slanted dashes in the sixth row are meant to represent tamalitos

(little tamales). Tamalitos are eaten during celebrations, holidays and important events in the

town. It is during these occasions many women wear their traditional traje as a way to show their

cultural pride and to feel a sense of community. The pattern that looks like a 3, and the one

below it that resembles a lightning strike in the second and third row of the photo in Figure 4,

refer to the three different types of corn used by the local people. The three kinds of corn are

yellow, purple and black, and are an invaluable and important crop to the local people. Although

cortes are typically bought in the markets, many women will add their own embroidery to the

skirts after they have been purchased. In Santa Cruz la Laguna, the most common (and only

observed) pattern on the cortes was a thick band of "dulces" or "carmelitos" (sweets or little

caramels). The pattern consists of a circular center with a single thread that spreads to three on

each side. This patterns looks exactly like a candy wrapper and surrounds the middle of the skirt.

Time Allocated for Textile Production

Once the colors and patterns are decided, the time consuming process of weaving on the

back strap loom can begin. Only 4 out of 15 weavers I spoke with in my quantitative

questionnaire (results shown in Figure 5) indicated that they weave on a daily basis. The other

11 informants indicated that they weave “every once in a while” or “sometimes”. Many women

indicated that this is in part because they don't always have the money to buy the materials to

weave or they don't have any outstanding orders from clients. In addition, many women have

stacks of finished items that are waiting to be sold. It does not make sense to them to make new

items when they already have completed items awaiting sale. Many women also have jobs

outside of weaving. They work in the kitchens at the hotels in town, they clean various

institutions throughout the town and they do a lot of house work - cooking, cleaning, laundry and

taking care of children.

Depending on the amount of time that a woman has available to weave, it takes around 2-

3 days to make a huipil (traditional blouse) or a rebosas (woven scarves). Napkins, belts and

purses take around 1-2 days to complete. Once the items have been woven, additional time is

spent embroidering patterns. This process can take anywhere from 1-3 weeks, depending on the

skill of the person and the amount of time that they are able to dedicate to weaving. Often times,

an order from a neighbor or an outsider will take priority over other jobs and tasks. Owing to the

lack of a high volume of tourist traffic or a strong, core retail sales area in town where the

women can market their sufficient goods, the income generated from weaving is often less

reliable than what can be generated by other activities previously mentioned; therefore, this

activity has become more of a secondary income source over the years.

CECAP and the Modernization of Weaving

The introduction of modern technology and machines have progressed the weaving and

embroidery process for some of the local weavers in town. Santa Cruz la Laguna is home to a

unique center of training managed by a U.S.-run non-profit called Amigos de Santa Cruz.

CECAP, or the Centro de Capacitation as it is called in Spanish, is located just below the central

cancha (court/meeting place) of the town. Walking in the entrance, the space opens up to a row

of 11 sewing machines on the right side of the room and 2 more on the left side which are

squeezed between a small tienda (store) with goods made in some of the classes and a large work

station that appears to be used for cutting and measuring fabric. A restaurant lines the back wall

and classrooms fill the upper and lower floors. According to the organization’s brochure, "the

goal of CECAP has always been to promote economic development through teaching hands-on

skills in areas that will lead to real- life jobs and income for the people of Santa Cruz. CECAP

offers a full array of classes in skills areas, such as carpentry, welding, culinary arts, and

artesanias (handicrafts)."

In addition to the classes listed in their brochure, CECAP also offers embroidery and

weaving classes for students of all ages. I was told by a woman who works in CECAP that most

of the women who take these classes already know how to weave but they are there to learn how

to weave for profit. By that she means that the women are learning how to make items in styles

that are popular in the western world and that tourists would have more interest in buying. In the

weaving class, women are learning to make scarves using an open weave. They make their items

using either alemán (German) or Kantel yarn. Alemán is a much softer and more expensive yarn,

which is preferred in the western markets, while Kantel is thicker and of lesser quality. The

women are also learning to weave shawls which, according to the worker, are in high demand

and style in the western world right now. Once these items are completed, they are often sold

outside of the country. In the embroidery classes, women are learning to use machines to make

intricate patterns much faster than they ever could by hand. They make things like pillow cases

and purses, which are popular items with tourists and other foreigners. CECAP has wholesale

agreements with a handful of companies and will receive orders from the United States or

Europe. These orders are then completed in one of the classes and shipped back to the proper

country. The women in these classes are paid for their contribution and they learn a new skill.

My informant told me that women will often be hired to help fulfill orders after they graduate the

programs as well.

The tienda (shop) inside of CECAP is home to many of the handicrafts made by all sorts

of program participants. Woven and embroidered goods seem to overwhelm the shop and appear

to be of top quality. Although part of the mission of CECAP is to help provide jobs for members

of the community, they do not allow weavers who have not participated in their classes to sell

their products in the store. The standard of goods sold is set high and, although the women

outside of the classrooms may produce goods at this level, they are not made to the standards of

CECAP and their wholesalers. To clarify, their goods are perfectly fine, but are not prepared

with western styles and patterns in mind. Many women outside of the classroom have stuck to

using thicker yarns and tighter weaves, which don't sell well with the foreign markets. It is

possible that this will change in the future but, for now, weavers who cannot afford classes are

left to their own devices to learn how to sell their products if they want to make an income.

Markets

Once the production process has been completed, the majority of my informants will go

on to sell their wares. In this section, I will discuss how the lack of a marketplace affects the

local weaving economy, where my informants sell their products within and outside of Santa

Cruz la Laguna, and how my informants market their goods if they are not made for their own

personal use.

Unlike many of the other communities around Lake Atitlán, Santa Cruz la Laguna does

not have a physical marketplace where people can sell produce, clothing, textiles and other

goods. When I refer to marketing in this section, I'm referring to how items are bought and sold

here, who makes up the market for the products, why people sell their goods and where these

actions take place. Since there is no physical marketplace in Santa Cruz, the local women are

forced to find other ways to sell their goods. My informants indicated that they rarely made items

for themselves because of how expensive it is without making a profit. There are two family-

owned textile tiendas directly off the side of the road above the lanchas (docks). Even though

these stores are not always open, they are one of the very few places where tourists, foreigners

and anyone else can find textiles made by women in the town. When I spoke with tourists, I

learned that some of the hotels offer small walking tours of the town. Along the walk, the guide

will stop at CECAP and the local school, providing the tourists with the opportunity to purchase

items from the small store in CECAP; however, since there is no established marketplace, they

(the tourists) aren’t aware that there are other weavers or artisans in town with handmade articles

for sale. If they are lucky (i.e. both the weaver and the tourist), a weaver may be walking in the

street at the same time the tour goes by, and the woman might invite the tourists to her home in

the hope that they will buy some of her traditional hand-woven crafts. Many tourists and

foreigners indicated that they bought a lot of woven textiles from some of the surrounding towns

like San Pedro la Laguna, San Juan la Laguna and Panajachel. The reason for this was almost

always that they did not know where to buy items from the people of Santa Cruz as opposed to

them not wanting to buy locally. The lack of viable places for the local women to sell their

products is a huge issue among the weaving community here in Santa Cruz. As much as the

weavers would like to continue to weave in the traditional way, they struggle to find ways to earn

enough money to justify the investment of time and effort.

When I asked my weaving informants if they would sell their goods in CECAP, the

overwhelming majority indicated that they would, but they don't feel welcome inside. They

claimed that in order to make sales to tourists and foreigners, they either try to get their attention

on the off chance that the tourists are walking in to town, or they walk around the restaurant and

lobby areas of some of the local hotels like La Iguana Perdida, Villa Sumaya, and Arca de Noe.

Some hotels have regulations that are meant to keep the women out, creating yet another barrier

to their ability to sell. I asked women if they think a marketplace would be beneficial to the town

and every single one of them said yes. They said that the more tourists that came in to town, the

better the conditions would be for selling their wares. Having a defined market area would be

absolutely invaluable to the local people in so many ways. Not only would it help weavers to

market their goods by introducing a convenience factor for prospective customers, but it could

help to create synergies where other vendors would set up their shops to sell their products, thus

generating income for other locals as well. It amazes me that so many people want a marketplace

and yet plans to establish one have not materialized. Many of my informants indicated that they

did not think that tourists would make the trek into town for a market, but I am not under the

same impression based on interviews and conversations I had with tourists during my stay. Most

of my informants indicated that they hiked into town to see what was up there, and since markets

are a huge draw for many tourists and foreigners, I don't see why the distance and steepness

would be an insurmountable hindrance to people wanting to shop.

On the plus side for the weavers, foreigners and expatriates who live in the town often

spread the word to their friends about the local weavers. Special orders will come in for napkins,

tablecloths and other textile items. Unfortunately for weavers who don't have connections to

outsiders or the hotels (who recommend some weavers to guests), it is rather difficult to find a

way to market their goods and there are no formal training lessons or institutions available for

women to learn how market their goods. My weaving informants indicated that they take matters

in to their own hands and try their best to re-use sales methods that worked for them in the past,

which typically consisted of approaching potential customers on the street and offering their

wares for sale. This method normally includes a fair amount of bargaining, where the artisan

initially tries to sell the product for a higher price but often sells for a lower (but hopefully

profitable) price.

Of the fifteen informants I interviewed to for my quantitative questionnaire, five of them

sell their products outside of Santa Cruz. They take their items to the neighboring towns of

Jaibalito and Tzununa. Some of these women indicated that antes (before), referring to 30-40

years ago, they sold their goods in Panajachel or Sololá but this is not the current trend. These

women told me that the reason they sold outside of Santa Cruz was due to the necessity of extra

money. Oftentimes, their families would not have enough to eat, wear or go to school, and

weaving was a way to help supplement their income. I'm not sure if it's because the need is not

there anymore or not, but my informants have stuck to Jaibalito and Tzunu na instead of other

larger towns and markets. Perhaps this has something to do with the lack of serious competition

in Jaibalito and Tzununa compared to Panajachel or Sololá.

As was mentioned before, there are some wholesalers who work in Santa Cruz la Laguna.

CECAP has a program where they receive orders for certain textile goods from both the United

States and Europe, but weavers have to be students at CECAP in order to be a part of this. I was

told about a company called Las Miladras that wholesales as well, but was not able to get in

contact with the owner. Based on my interviews, it does not appear that wholesaling is a large

business here in Santa Cruz, but I would need to do further research in order to be sure.

Perceptions of Woven Products

Toward the end of my research I spoke with a lot of tourists, foreigners and locals about

how they view the actual products that are made in the textile process. It's interesting to see the

differences and similarities in the ways that locals and foreigners think about these goods. Using

the free-list pile sort and photo elicitation techniques, I interviewed some locals, tourists and

foreigners who shared their thoughts on weaving and textiles.

Foreigners vs. Locals

My local informants told me that they think the traditional traje (outfit) is still very

important to the local people in Santa Cruz. Although the men no longer wear traje, almost all

the women still continue to wear it. Women and children of all ages may be seen wearing

western-style t-shirts with the corte, but it is rather uncommon and typically a matter of comfort

instead of an indication of the traje's death. Local respondents told me that women are still

wearing the traditional traje as a way to carry on their traditions and culture. The traje is

representative of their ancestors and where they came from and that is not something that they

can easily forget. I asked both locals and foreigners to look at the photo in Figure 4, and tell me

what the colors and patterns represent, what the huipil may have looked like 10-20 years ago,

what it may look like in 5-10 years and why they think it is an important item to the local people.

The results were very interesting.

80% of my informants, a group of 6 foreigners and 4 locals, indicated that they think the

colors and patterns represent elements of nature, the land or the natural surroundings. 7 of the

respondents indicated that they thought that the designs were the same 10-20 years ago as they

are now. 3 of the respondents (two foreigners and one local) indicated that they thought the

designs may have been a little different in the past and that different threads may have been used.

The local respondent indicated that she believed the volcano patterns may not have existed 10-20

years ago. Four foreigners said that they think that the huipil will become more western or

maybe even cease to exist in the future. These people believe that western culture is slowly

creeping into many aspects of the local culture and that textiles would not be immune to this

change. Many also thought that the local people and the younger generations may feel the

pressure to conform to western styles as a way to appear more wealthy or better off than others.

One foreigner, who indicated she knew a lot about weaving, said that she thinks that the huipiles

will stay relatively similar in the future even though the colors and patterns may change a bit.

Two of the locals, who were also 45 or older, indicated that they think that the huipiles will stay

the same in the future and the other two think that they may change a little as the materials

change and new patterns are used.

8 out of the 10 respondents said something about culture or tradition in relation to the

significance or importance of the item. The foreigners seemed to understand that the huipil and

traditional clothing is important to the local people and their culture but did not seem to

understand why. One person was unsure what the huipil stood for, or if it stood for anything (this

may be because she had just arrived in the community). It was apparent that almost all of the

respondents (8/10) were on the same page about the symbolization of the colors aay be nd

patterns and the importance of the huipil for culture and tradition. Two respondents said that

they think that that the threads and materials used to make the huipil are changing and three think

that designs and production are evolving with time. What does this say about the community? As

far as the colors and patterns, I think that the significance of the style is obvious to both outsiders

and locals. Locals know that the huipil was basically the same 10-20 years ago, while the

foreigners' responses were split between concluding that it would have looked the same and a bit

different. Westerners, whose perspectives are more likely broader, mentioned that they think the

huipil will change in the future, which could be a reflection of their experiences with traditions in

their own cultures over time. Maybe the culture moves slower here or maybe the local, and

especially older age group, think that the culture can be saved or kept the same while the world

changes quickly around them. It shows that the younger locals are starting to acknowledge that

culture is changing and that the traditional styles are starting to change, while the older

generation tries to ignore that this is happening. Respondents seem to agree that the huipil is

culturally and traditionally important and I think that's an indication that people of all

backgrounds can acknowledge the importance of deep-rooted traditions.

Foreign Impressions

Using the free-list pile sort technique, I was able to gain some understanding about how

foreigners view weaving in the Lake Atitlán area. Three tourists from varying backgrounds

comprised lists of words that they associated with weaving. Looking through the lists, the words

patterns, colors, threads, and tradition occurred more than once. Color and tradition appeared in

all three lists, while threads and patterns occurred in two of the three lists. I found it really

interesting that these showed up more frequently. Color and tradition speak out as two words that

really define the art of weaving here in Guatemala, and threads and patterns are how the

weavings physically come to life. The final list consisted of the following words: tablecloths,

frustration, baskets, markets, bracelets, bags, clothes, wallets, belt, geometry, huipil, outfit, skirt,

scarves, Guatemala, woman, needles, threads, art, weavers, little old woman, way out of poverty,

custom, Mayan tradition, cultural identity, skill/talent, connection, patience, tradition, frustration,

cheap, colorful, patterns, personalized, sitting. It is interesting to see such a wide variety of

words. Not a single person mentioned the tools or materials that are used to make the items,

although they described things about the products made, the feelings they think weavers or

buyers may experience and listed items that are sold. It's possible that this may indicate that

buyers care more about the product itself rather than the process it went through to come to life.

After my respondents sorted through the piles, I saw a variety of different responses and

ways of thinking about the trade. Six respondents included a subjects category, consisting of

some of the items that people buy in markets or words they considered to be nouns of the

weaving world. Four respondents made specific categories pertaining to culture and tradition and

an additional three respondents discussed culture and tradition as important parts of the weaving

and textile industry. There were also a handful of categories used to describe how weavers might

feel, stereotypes and perceptions, abstract concepts, things that women and men need, and words

associated with poverty that definitely showed some unique perspectives. One respondent split

her cards into three categories, consisting of feminine words, masculine words and general

human-related words. It was interesting to see that the words the respondent placed in the

feminine category all had to do with items that are made by weavers and the descriptor words

having to do with tradition and custom. The masculine category left out these items and the

general human category discussed basic cultural ideas. In their responses, respondents spoke

about women being the weavers and failed to mention men being a part of the trade or the

wearers of traditional dress. It was clear across the board that my respondents associate weaving

with women, culture and poverty. Many people see the textile goods as a way for weavers to get

out of poverty and note that frustration, patience and tradition are all related to the skill. The

variety of textile items are also seen as cultural traditions and a way of determining cultural

identity.

Conclusions

The making and selling of textile products is a well-known trade throughout the small

communities of Guatemala. This exploratory study focused on how the products are made, how

the products are sold and what locals and foreigners think of them. As time moves forward and

technologies and materials begin to evolve, the traditional trade is becoming less and less similar

to what it once was. Although the colors and patterns of some of the traditional clothing still hold

some significance for the people of individual villages (like Santa Cruz), personal preference is

trumping the need to identify totally with one's culture. Santa Cruz la Laguna is certainly one of

those communities where the times are changing among the younger generation of inhabitants.

Less and less young people (between ages 10-25) people identify with traditional materials and

patterns, and the goods are starting to lose their meaning. It is apparent that weaving, selling and

traditional clothing are still important to the older generation of weavers. As far as economic

success for weavers in Santa Cruz la Laguna goes, the lack of a true marketplace creates a large

barrier for earning a meaningful income. Although there are a variety of other ways for weavers

to sell items to tourists and neighbors alike, it is much more difficult for the people of this tight-

knit community make a profit without leaving town. Tourists and foreigners still see this trade as

a beautiful representation of the culture even as the trade becomes more westernized. Maybe

people of all backgrounds - tourists, foreigners and locals - hope that the traditions of the

beautiful skill will stay as traditional as they can all the while acknowledging that times are

changing.

Looking Forward

The research and data collected throughout this study was intended to provide a broad

overview of the textile and weaving industry as well as the perceptions of traditional dress in

Santa Cruz la Laguna. Given the short amount of time allotted to complete the research, I believe

that quite a bit of valuable information was gained here. Researchers looking to understand the

production, marketing and perception of textiles in small communities can use my study as a

source of some basic information. In the future, a larger sample and more research time would

allow for an even deeper understanding of this topic and the evolution of weaving in this region.

One of my biggest issues throughout the research process was communications, in that the vast

majority of my informants could only communicate fluently in Kakchiquel and I had to rely on a

my host mother to translate their comments into Spanish. Since her Spanish fluency was

moderately proficient, her translations may not have included every minute point the informants

were making but I am confident that she clearly translated the most important points being made.

If I had been able to hire a paid professional translator to help me conduct interviews I may have

been able to speak to more people and get access to more intricate details on the production,

marketing and perception of textiles and weaving.

I think that the community could use this study to provide a perspective on how tourists,

foreigners and locals view the weaving, and textile community and how small changes could

help them retain many of their traditions while enhancing the ability to market their wares. They

could use this study to understand how the lack of a physical marketplace is affecting their local

economy in a negative way and see how adding a market would positively affect them. Future

researchers could study how the production and marketing of textiles and perception of local

dress change over time to gain an even deeper understanding of these topics and how they affect

the community.

Figure 1: The carreta, seen in the front, stands about 4 feet tall and helps prepare yarn for the loom.

Figure 2: The püinib'al or warp frame used to prepare the yarn for the loom.

Figure 3: The back strap loom and its respective parts.

Figure 4: Example of huipil from Santa Cruz la Laguna

Age Start Weave

Sell out of S.Cruz

Sell in S.Cruz

Only Income Source

Frequency Weaving?

Who Taught

Teach their Kids Modernizing

QA1 61 18 no yes yes TLD mom yes yes/noQA2 23 15 no yes yes AV mom no yesQA3 52 12 no yes yes AV mom yes yesQA4 76 35 yes yes yes DVEC mom yes yes

QA568 16/17 yes yes/no yes DVEC self-

taughtyes no

QA644 15 no no no DVEC self-

taughtyes yes

QA7 24 12 no yes yes DVEC abuela yes yesQA8 40 14 no yes yes DVEC mom yes yes QA9 22 3 no no poco TLD mom yes mas/menosQA10

22 17 no yes menos AV self-taught

no mas/menos

QA11

40 10 yes yes yes cada mes mom yes mas/menos

QA12

31 10 no yes yes DVEC mom yes no

QA13

31 10 yes no yes TLD mom no yes

QA14

54 13 yes yes yes TLD abuela yes yes

QA15

52 15 no no no DVEC mom no no

Figure 5: Qualitative Questionnaire results. The table illustrates the informants current age, the age they started weaving, if they sell their items outside of Santa Cruz, if they sell in Santa Cruz, if weaving is their only source of income, how often they weave (TLD-everyday, AV-sometimes, DVEC-every once in a while, Cada mes - every month), who taught them, if they will teach/have taught their kids and if they think weaving is modernizing.

Works Cited

Greene, David B.2009 Weaving Space: Textiles and Tales from Guatemala. Cary, NC. Mayagraphic

Publications.

Maya Medical Aid2006 Santa Cruz la Laguna Medical Project. Electronic Document.

http://www.mayanmedicalaid.org/health_santa_cruz.htm. accessed July 8, 2014.