“Watch out señora, llama spits,” the farmer said, tipping his hat and smiling at me. I’d wandered away from my group still eating lunch at the café next door. The sight of beautiful animals grazing lazily in the farmer’s pasture drew me to the field. I noted the minimal fencing. “What keeps them here?” I asked. He shrugged. “Sweet grass.”
With a Road Scholars tour group, I’d spent the morning exploring the Ollantaytambo Ruins in Peru’s Sacred Valley. We’d stopped for a lunch break before heading on to another site to see a weaving demonstration. Weaving, a critical way of life for those living in the Peruvian Andes, depends upon the wool of llamas, vicuña, and alpacas.
About 6,000 years ago, people of the Andes domesticated two wild camelids, hearty guanacos and deer-like vicuña. With careful breeding, they created two new species to fill specialized tasks. Bold strong llamas, descended from guanacos, served as pack animals, provided coarse wool, and guarded herds of sheep and alpaca. The smaller, more social alpaca provided meat and produced fine wool for weaving. This farmer bred two types of alpaca with dramatically different types of wool — the alpaca huacayo with very soft wool and the alpaca suri, which boasted heavy Rosti-style dreadlocks. In a separate pen, he also raised the shy vicuña known for bearing the finest wool of all.
“Come touch,” the farmer invited me. A sweet-faced alpaca bowed its head for me to pet, much like a dog. As I stroked his soft curls, I swear he smiled. “Grass, give him some grass.” I pulled a handful of grass and offered it to the animal. Even though it was the same grass he’d been munching, the alpaca happily took it. Then, he leaned against my leg, clearly wanting more attention. I scratched behind his ears. He sighed in contentment. Yep, just like my dog.
“Gracias and adios,” I bid the farmer and the alpaca. My group was boarding the bus to our next destination, Chinchero, an ancient town on the Inca Road.
When we arrived in Chinchero, a group of local women met us at the door of a large hut. Their spokesperson, a sweet cricket-like young woman who spoke the best English of the group, introduced us to her women’s weaving collective. These women used ancient, traditional techniques to card, dye, spin, and weave fine alpaca wool into warm beautiful garments. “And we get away from our husbands and children for a while,” she joked. “We can gossip and enjoy each other’s company.”
Our young guide began the demonstration by washing a large ball of alpaca wool. Before shearing, farmers never bathe the animals so the wool she held was filthy and felt greasy. Grating the root of the Sacha Paraqay plant into a bowl of water, she swished it around to create suds. (The women also use this natural detergent for shampoo.) After a short soak and some vigorous wringing, the wool felt soft, looked considerably lighter in color, and smelled clean.
Several members of the collective demonstrated spinning a blob of wool into yarn. They manipulated a dreidel-looking device, called a drop spindle, to twist the wool into thin strands of thread and gathered them into long skeins ready for weaving.
Peruvians love bright colors for their textiles, but alpaca wool comes naturally in shades of creams to browns. The women used local plants, minerals, and even insects as dyes. In fact, the most important color — a bright crimson — came from the cochineal insect. This rice-sized insect lives on cactus paddles and feeds on the juice. Our guide ground up a handful of dried bugs and added water to create a red paste. With an impish grin she painted her lips and cheeks with the dye. (I later learned that this bug produces the vivid reds in lipsticks and the red aperitif, Campari.) After stirring the paste into a pot of bubbling water, she dunked a skein wool into the brew. Within seconds, the wool turned a rosy pink.
A couple of weavers worked together to wrap a hand loom with the warp strands of yarn. Using a long bone shuttle, one weaver interwove the weft strands through the warp to produce cloth. Her expertise showed in the choice of colors and pleasing patterns.
Wrapping the warp strands Weaving the weft strands
After the demonstration, we spent time with the women and looked at the wares they offered for sale. I communicated as best I could with my limited Spanish, aware that Spanish was a second language for them as well. While I admired the colorful garments and beautiful blankets, a neck scarf caught my attention. In soft hues of brown and beige with a row of alpacas woven along the bottom, the scarf I bought would always remind me of my little alpaca buddy.
Road Scholar is a non-profit tour company dedicated to adventures for travelers 50+ https://www.roadscholar.org/
Brings me right back there.
Wonderful pictures and writings of Peru. You capture their essence and spirit. Thanks for sharing. Cathy
The story brought back pleasant memories of Peru. I hope you and Carolyn have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I will be in the UK , Brussels and Germany for the holiday weekend.
Best wishes,
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