Experiencing Guatemala, one thread at a time.
Tucked into the quiet courtyard of Kakaw Designs where lush green plants clung to the stone walls and clusters of rain damp cotton hangs from cotton trees taller than me, I found myself seated and tethered to a hand carved wooden backstrap loom. My teacher, Everilda, a kind and patient woman from San Antonio Aguas Calientesa, stood next to me with an ever vigilant gaze in the shade of the garden, guiding me through Guatemala’s centuries-old tradition of weaving.
I’d learned to weave on a foot loom once before, during my travels in Laos, but this was something entirely different. The backstrap loom quite literally connects the weaver to their work; the strap wraps around the body, using one’s own posture to maintain the tension of the threads. It’s a technique that’s both ancient and deeply personal.
When I saw the opportunity to learn while in Guatemala, I jumped at it. No regrets.
A TRADITION WOVEN INTO IDENTITY
In Guatemala, weaving is more than craft, it’s a form of storytelling. Each textile is rich with color, history, and symbolism, woven by (predominantly) women who have passed these skills down for generations.
Girls often begin learning from their mothers or grandmothers, sometimes as young as seven or eight. When they marry, they traditionally gift a woven piece to their mother-in-law—a gesture of respect and love. It’s worn with pride, treasured, and eventually passed down again. Every thread holds connection; every pattern holds meaning.
SLOWING DOWN TO THE RHYTHM OF THE LOOM
After days of wandering Antigua’s cobblestone streets, chatting with vendors and tasting market fruit, sitting down to weave felt like stepping into another rhythm entirely. The sound of the fountain in the center of the garden replaced the chatter of the streets, its gentle trickle setting the pace as I focused on counting tiny threads—one, two, three, four—again and again.
It’s amazing how grounding it can be to sit still and do something so far removed from your usual routine. Here, what felt novel to me is part of everyday life. The concentration it requires leaves little room for anything else; you’re fully present, eyes squinting (and yes, eventually reaching for your glasses) as you try not to lose count. And when you inevitably do, again, it’s humbling, hilarious, and fascinating to watch her skilled hands find the error and correct it.
FROM THREAD TO STORY
The process begins long before weaving starts. Cotton is hand-spun and dyed using natural pigments: indigo leaves for deep blues, cochineal for reds, marigold petals for yellow, and local barks and cocoa for earthy browns. Every hue carries memory and meaning.
In class, I learned to warp the loom myself and practiced a few traditional patterns; including one called the mosquito, which felt like poetic justice after so many tropical bites. Now, those little pests live forever; trapped in fabric, my revenge immortalized.
TEA, TEXTILES, AND TIME TO TALK
Each lesson ended with tea made from roasted cacao husks—the delicate skin that encases the cocoa nibs. The tea carries a faint chocolate aroma and an earthy sweetness. My teacher and her daughter (a teacher and a talent in her own right) would join me as we sat in the garden, their English far superior to my Spanish. Yes, a bag of that tea is most definitely coming home with me.
A FAREWELL WITH GRATITUDE
By the time my lessons came to an end, I understood why weaving here is both an art and a meditation. It demands patience, precision, and a willingness to laugh at your own mistakes. Each woven piece is a collaboration between tradition and time, hands and heart.
My deepest gratitude to Kakaw Designs, and to the generous women who shared not just their skills, but their patience and laughter.
If you’re intrigued by experiences like this, my Guatemala group tour will offer the chance to add these weaving lessons to your journey.