Weaving and Cloth Production

As the large congregation of foreign anthropologists and sociologists working in Guatemala know very well, the maintenance of "traditional" indigenous dress by the Maya pueblos sets Guatemala apart from most other developing countries, in which indigenous groups have abandoned distinctive clothing as a self-conscious manifestation of ethnic identification.   Thus, social scientists have long been fascinated with the production and wearing of cloth and clothes by Maya men and women.  But of course one doesn't have to be an anthropologist either to be fascinated by Guatemalan textiles or to appreciate their beauty.  For even the most casual of tourists in Guatemala cannot help but notice that the most obvious sign of Maya identity is the distinctive clothing of the indigenous population, while the complex patterns and bright colors the fabrics by all appearances hold a universal appeal.

But whether for reasons cerebral or visceral, reflecting a fascination instinctive or acquired, we at Centro Maya became aware several years ago that an increasing number of language students also wished to learn to weave.   And seeking to satisfy that desire, we found master weavers with the teaching and language skills necessary to offer lessons in traditional backstrap loom weaving, as pictured here. 

By offering weaving as a regular study option and encouraging students to learn the art, we hope to increase awareness of and appreciation for the Maya cosmovision.  Which is to say that we acknowledge the truth of what both tourists and social scientists say about Maya weaving: that it is an important aspect of the regional economy; that it is a technologically complex expression of folk art; that while styles of weaving, pattern, and color selection actually evolve fairly quickly, Maya weaving reflects an impulse toward social conservatism; that design and style reflect a basic Maya preoccupation with municipal rather than national or "Indian" culture; that it is beautiful; that given the time necessary to produce Guatemalan textiles, they often reflect a gross undervaluation of women's labor.  And etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

But while we acknowledge all those things, we believe that saying them reflects an understanding of Maya weaving as somewhere between "cultural artifact" and  "folk art."  The problem with these understandings is that they trivialize the nature of textile production as an essential element of Maya identity.  This may be understood by the fact that whether one looks at the most complex of huipiles or brightly colored tzutes or the newer "non-traditional" items such as appliqued quilts, Maya textile production is patently an exercise in pride as well as of commerce or simple material need.  Meaning that each finely crafted item in a profound sense is a direct statement from the soul of the artist who produced it, reflecting not merely her deepest understanding of design and color use and technique, but expressing her most basic understanding of God and nature and the universe.  

We believe, therefore, that the fine weaving of Guatemala may be considered "religious art" in its truest sense.   For that reason, we also believe that learning even just the basics of Maya weaving should be considered not so much a lesson in handywork as an introduction to Maya comprehension of reality.  And that aspect of weaving is, in our view, as important as any new manual skill.  But whether students come to study weaving as a mere matter of learning to produce cloth, or to catch a glimpse of the "deep" reality of indigenous Maya, this is an instructional regimen we are proud to offer, and hope that many foreign visitors will choose to spend some amount of time with our master weaver instructors.