Empowering Women Through Design in Rural Peru

“We arrived at Patacancha early in the morning only to be greeted by beaming women and a pot of potatoes for breakfast. It was quite clear that our weavers had already been hard at work for many hours.”

Carys, an Awamaki Sustainable Tourism volunteer, was immediately impressed by the Songuillay cooperative members upon her arrival in Patacancha for the natural dyes workshop. Members of the cooperative got up bright and early to prep for a full day of natural dyeing for Awamaki’s 2016 wholesale line. The Songuillay women have been doing so well that they were able to pay for a natural dyes expert, Andres, to lead the workshop. Andres divided the women into five different groups and each group worked to develop the same pre-arranged colors. It was hard, but by the end of the day each group had an amazing color explosion hanging on the drying line.

The concentration of our weavers did not waver as Andres carefully conducted them through color pallet, ranging from the bright greens and yellows created by the ch’ilka plant to the fierce reds and purples created by the cochineal beetle.

Even through the women were under the instruction of Andres, their preparation was what made the day a success. At the previous dye workshop the year before, the women where not prepared at all when Awamaki arrived with the dyes expert. The woman did not know what to do, and we had to start everything from scratch, which took time. In contrast, when Awamaki arrived this year, the women were already split into groups and each had their own fires built under huge pots of boiling water. All the materials were laid out and ready to go. Jess, our Head Designer at Awamaki, described how wonderful it was that the women were so prepared.

“It was a moving day to see how organized our weavers were and how much initiative they took in preparing the yarns for dyeing. They were so interested in learning and their confidence increased throughout the day. They started asking my opinion or running over to other groups to ask them how they got their color a certain way.”

Some of the men from Patacancha were hanging around and would occasionally help out, but the women continued to run the show. Karina, a Women’s Cooperative Program volunteer, was amazed by the women’s dedication to both their work and their family.

“Groups of women were gathered around the pots of steaming, colorful dyes – spinning, mixing, dyeing, drying. What’s incredible is many also had a baby on their back or a toddler at their feet!”

Andres did a wonderful job directing the women throughout the day in the art of color creation. However, in the future we want to train a few women from each cooperative to become experts in the natural dyeing process so we no longer have to hire outside of the community. These women would be responsible for leading the dye workshops not only in Patacancha but also in Kelkanka. They would have to attend all of the dyeing workshops in order to learn the complicated process, such as how the dyes react together and how much fiber you can mix in with each batch of dye. It truly is a huge commitment to learn and take on, but we are sure that our cooperative members can rise to the challenge! Supporters like you enable our cooperative members to gain new skills in design, and in turn empower them to reach for the rainbow (of natural dyes!).

For nine months, she carries another human being inside of her; for eighteen years, she is a cook, nurse, teacher, janitor, taxi driver, and cheerleader; and for the rest of her life, she is more invested in another person than she is in herself.

Motherhood is, hands down, one of the hardest jobs in the world. A mother’s boss is several decades younger than she is and can be one of the most thankless employers on the planet. Like a doctor, she is on call all night long—every night. Like a politician, her behavior must be exemplary, even when it seems as though no one is watching. Like a farmer, she is responsible for keeping her crop alive and happy in conditions that are largely beyond her control. There’s a little more pressure, though, when your crop is a human being. 

Women worldwide can relate. When I asked a few women in our Rumira cooperative about the hardest part of being a mom, the answers were the same as what I’ve heard from my own mom for years: maintaining a clean house, keeping the kids focused on their schoolwork, thinking of something different to cook every night. When I asked what they would do with 1000 soles, each woman immediately answered that she would invest it in her children. (When I asked what they would buy for themselves, one woman giggled and answered, “clothes”—and I think a lot of women, mothers or no, can relate to that.)

Motherhood brings its own unique challenges in Peru’s Sacred Valley. Even in Rumira, one of the least remote of Awamaki’s partnering communities, most of the women with whom I’ve spoken did not make it past primary or secondary school, as many began having children in their late teens. Despite a limited education, some are the primary breadwinners for their families, supporting their husband and several children on the profits from their knit goods. They are expected to tend to the family’s farm daily, often with an infant strapped to their back or a toddler in tow. If the in-laws need anything, their daughter-in-law must be available. To the already endless list of a mother’s titles, add weaver, farmer, and caretaker of the elderly.

For Marleny, a member of our Rumira cooperative, the list goes on. Marleny, who didn’t finish secondary school as a teenager, is now a full-time student at a vocational school in Urubamba studying computation and computer science. When she isn’t knitting to fill Awamaki orders or cooking and cleaning for her family or mother-in-law, she is taking care of her two-year-old son, Samir—and planning for his education. Though Samir is still learning to talk, Marleny is already working to pay for his university tuition, something that is financially out of reach for most families in the rural communities of the Sacred Valley. “I want him to finish his studies and do something in life,” she says.

And for Marleny, that means continuing to wear her many hats, continuing to sacrifice sleep and time to herself to fulfill her endless to-do list, and continuing to invest in her own education to ensure that she will always be able to invest in her son’s. But like most other moms that I’ve met, there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in her voice. When I ask her about the hardest part of being a mother, she just laughs and says, “That’s a hard question. It’s hard to raise a child.” But when I ask about the best part, she answers without hesitation: “When I teach my son something and he learns.” And with all that she does, there is plenty to learn from her. Motherhood may be one of the hardest jobs on the planet, but it sure suits Marleny well.