I bought this bowl on a trip to southwestern Colombia in February, during a visit to an indigenous community that lives up the Río Calima, right near the border between the Valle del Cauca and Chocó departments. It’s made of werregue, a palm fiber native to Colombia’s Pacific coast. Werregue crafts are one of the country’s most distinctive artesanías, and also one of the most intricate: it can take 1-2 months to weave a basket or a vase, and the best ones are woven so tightly they can actually carry water. I’ve been using this bowl to hold my necklaces, since it’s too beautiful to risk putting anything in it that could tear or stain it.
One of my favorite things about this bowl is the fact that I had the opportunity to buy it directly from the woman who made it. We were visiting the indigenous community as part of a work trip, but at the end of a productive meeting, some of the women wanted to show us the artesanías they had created, in case we wanted to buy something (which of course we did). They make everything from complex beaded necklaces to these stunning werregue jars and bowls, which they often transport along the three-hour boat-moto-bus trip into Buenaventura to sell. Due to some of the serious violence and security issues around Buenaventura right now, as well as direct threats against some members of their community, they haven’t been able to travel for a while, so they were happy to show off the work to us while we were there. I feel so much more comfortable buying beautiful crafts like this directly from the amazing people who make them — it’s a relief knowing that my money is actually going to the community that deserves it, rather than any other buyers or middlemen.
I would have loved to bring back about 9000 more things, but could only take what I could fit in my bag, which ended up being this bowl as well as a pair of beaded earrings and a bracelet. The women gave all of us necklaces as a gift before we left, and mine is sitting in this bowl right now, which feels like exactly where it belongs.
Last week I got a chance to make a quick visit to my favorite place in Colombia (by now we all know that’s Villa de Leyva, right?). I stopped by my favorite hostel in my favorite town — the one run by the woman who acts like she’s everyone’s Colombian grandma, who calls every guest “mi amor” or “mi cielo” so she doesn’t have to try to remember all of our names, the one with outdoor showers and four cats roaming the premises and a huge lawn with plenty of space for tents and furniture made out of wine bottles and other recycled items. One of the best things about this hostel (after the hostess and the friendly cats) is that it’s always changing. They’re always moving rooms around, constructing new additions, changing the layout. It’s constantly in flux, so it’s a different experience every time you come back. Even though I’ve been there three times now, there were still plenty of new developments — my favorite being the new outdoor lounge space: a platform in the middle of the yard, covered by a tent made from a parachute and populated with pieces of lumpy furniture in various states of transition, including two “chairs” made of sofa pillow stuffed into dresser drawers. The best part of this room, though, is the light: a hanging garden of colored wine bottles, lit up by LED lights at night and casting splotchy colorful shadows across the interior of the parachute. I liked it so much I practically tried to sleep out there — the mosquitoes won this round, but I’m sure I’ll be back soon enough. I just hope I make it back there before the bottles move to a new location.
One of the (undoubtedly many) reasons I tend to drive my friends slightly crazy is that I am maybe the world’s least reliable photographer. I’m not necessarily saying that I’m bad at taking pictures (although I certainly didn’t get the … Continue reading →
At the beginning of June, my friend Brighid’s host family offered to take a few of us along for the ride to spend a Sunday in Ráquira, a town a few hours outside of Bogotá. Ráquira is in the department … Continue reading →