Each time I passed afterwards we exchanged smiles and greetings and one day I stopped to talk.  I asked them where they were from, who made the products they sold, how long they had been selling them, etc.

There names are Catarina and Diego.  They travel by bus from Nahualá, a small village an hour and fifteen minutes from Xela.  They make the trop almost every day of the week to sell the products of 33 women from their pueblo.  They’ve been doing it for 32 years.

Last Monday I met them in Nahualá.  They had agreed to introduce me to one of their poorest weavers, because I wanted to help one woman sell her product directly to a retail customer – using ebay.  I woke up with the idea one morning, probably a result of my frustration with the way the system of wholesalers soak up the majority of the retail sales price of their products.  I can’t do it for every poor woman in Guatemala, but I can do it for one.

I brought along my young friend Abigail to shoot some photos and make a video, which I planned on embedding with the ebay listing.

We took a “chicken bus” out of Xela.   What they call a bus terminal in Xela is just a street crammed with school buses, each painted in a unique scheme of primary colors, but none indicating their destination.  A guide asked us where we wanted to go and led us to the bus for Nahualá.  I tipped him 5 Qetizales.

We lost track of time in conversation until we were interrupted by the “ayudante” (each bus has a helper who takes the money) asking us where we we were going.  When I told him Nahualá he pointed behind us and said “Ya hemos pasado.”  We’d overshot our stop by about five minutes.  No problem there was a micro-bus (small diesel powered vans) headed the other direction – just stopping for passengers on the other side of the road.  Our driver stopped and waved for the micro-bus to hold for us.

Catarina and Diego were dutifully waiting for us at the gasolinera where we had agreed to meet forty-five minutes earlier.  By American standards we were late, but by Guatemalan, we were right on time.

The house we were to visit was several kilometers away, but Catarina asked us if we preferred to walk or take a taxi.  We were fine with Guatemalan time, but Guatemalan walking distance is another matter.  We grabbed one of the several beat up old taxis that were hovering around the gasoline station.

There was a bit more walking to do to reach our destination.  We followed a packed dirt path that wound through small patches of chest high corn, past children, dogs, lots of chickens, a couple of goats, and several small, very humble dwellings.  Finally we entered the packed dirt courtyard of the home of three sisters, Magdalena, Maria, and Rosa.  They live together in a house constructed of mud bricks, with a corrugated metal roof and dirt floors.  Magdalena was born without any legs.

Rosa is the only one of the sisters who ever married and she has some children, but her husband is no longer around.

There were introductions and explanations of what we were there for – all in the indigenous language of the region K’iche‘.  None of the women speak Spanish, so Catarina and Diego interpreted.

Magdalena and Maria began weaving to demonstrate the tedious process.  They were using the traditional backstrap looms that I’d seen in Xela, but there was something quite different.  Instead of simply passing the shuttle – called a trama – that carries the “weft” thread transversely between the “warp”, longitudinal threads, they had to count and pick their way across the many threads, passing a long stick as they went.  This was because a complex design was being woven into the fabric.  In addition to that they were adding a “brocade”, or raised pattern by wrapping other brightly colored threads around the warp threads.

That is why a six foot by 18″ table runner requires two months of daily work to complete.

The women each had a small cloth with an embroidered pattern that resembled cross-stitching.  It was the blueprint, so to speak, the pattern for the design they were incorporating into their work.  I asked who had made the original design and they said it had been given to them by their mother, who had gotten it from her mother.

If you are interested in placing a bid you can find it here Magdalena’s table runner.

Somewhere between the Indigenous Mayan woman who spends her days plying the ancient art of backstrap weaving, and the retail customer in America, Europe, or Australia, who buys her product in a “fair trade” boutique a great deal of price inflation takes place.  The actual benefit to the weaver is pennies on the dollar.

There is no evil conspiracy involved;  nobody is purposely exploiting the poor women of Guatemala.  In fact it’s quite the opposite – everyone involved in the process of bringing the handwoven products from the remote third-world villages of the Guatemalan Highlands to first-world retail markets has the  most noble intention.  Unfortunately the products just pass through too many hands from weaver to retail customer.

What is fair-trade?  Used as an adjective fair has several meanings.  According to dictionary.com fair has three definitions

1. free from bias, dishonesty, or injustice: a fair decision; a fair judge.
2. legitimately sought, pursued, done, given, etc.; proper under the rules: a fair fight.
3. moderately large; ample: a fair income.

I don’t think there is any dishonesty or illegitimacy on the part of those who are involved in “fair trade”.  But in no way do I think fair trade qualifies when applying the third definition.  The women of Guatemala do not receive a fair income.

Here are two fair trade myths:

Fair trade because the artisan sets the price.
I have read in fair trade publicity that the prices are fair because they are “set by the artisans themselves.”  Being willing to accept 15 or 20 cents an hour for one’s labor does not make it a fair wage.  Would being willing to work for nothing make it a fair wage?  Some people would say yes and be totally willing to accept the offer.  That does not make it fair, and 20 cents an hour is not a fair wage anywhere on Planet Earth.

Fair trade because it costs them less to live.
Many misinformed people take the attitude that, while their earnings may not be much money in a first-world country, it is a lot of money in their own country. While there are some things that cost less in third world countries, most staples items cost the same, and many imported items are much more expensive.

I can tell you that the reason it costs less to live in Mexico, or Guatemala, has to do with the standards people are willing to accept.  Often standards of living that would not even be possible in America because they are illegal!  Building codes in America prohibit the habitation of houses below a certain minimum square footage, and dirt floors and wood fired stoves are not acceptable either.

Staples like rice, wheat and corn are fungible commodities that cost the same the world over.  The only things I have found to be cheaper in Guatemala that I have found are fresh vegetables, and property taxes.   Rent is cheaper, but the bathroom and shower is nothing the average American would consider using.

The retail customer has no idea what is fair.
Most customers of fair trade textiles have no idea the amount of time it takes to make the items they are offered.  How could they know?

Unless they are one of the few women in the modern age who knit, or crochet, they have no point of reference.  Machine woven products have led them to believe that a scarf must be easy to make since it can be bought for just a few dollars.

Ironically those who come to Xela to help poor Guatemalans are the ones driving down the prices! Street vendors will negotiate, and visitors think it’s “part of the culture”, so they never pay the asking price.

The street vendors I know tell me that they have a price, one that would earn them a fair return on their investment.  But, like any self-employed retailer, they know that something is better than nothing, even if it means breaking even.  At break even they don’t make any money, but they can order another scarf, table runner of tote bag from the women they represent.  They also tell me most of their customers are “voluntarios.”

I’ve seen it in Mexico.  An American or Canadian tourist  laying in a beach lounger in front of the hotel where they’re paying $150.00 a night for a room, negotiating with a beach vendor laden with trinkets to save five or ten pesos.  It’s as common as it is disgusting.

Fair is a relative term.
So what is a fair wage? What should any person in the world expect in return for an hour of their labor? And how are we to know?

Governments set minimums. In the United States the Federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour. And that includes unskilled workers, who don’t need to know anything more than how to say “Would you like fries with that?”

Some states have decided that’s not enough. In Massachusetts and California it’s $8.00, and Washington has the highest in the nation at $8.67.

Guatemala has a minimum wage – it’s $.93 (US) per hour.

That would be a fair amount, and someone in America making $7.25 per hour should be willing to trade an hour of their labor for an hour of a poor Guatemalan woman’s labor.  That means a scarf that takes ten hours to weave, at $1 per hour, should theoretically be worth $72.50 to a minimum wage earner in America.  That might be hard to sell to someone who is used to buying their clothing at Wal-Mart – clothing made in China by workers making $2.00 a day.

No matter where on planet Earth a person lives, they have exactly the same number of hours in their day, and an hour of one human beings life should not be worth more or less than that of another.  With the exception of skill levels.  It is obvious that a doctor’s hour of labor has more value than that of the person behind the speaker at McDonald’s asking you to move to window number two.

It can be argued that although human beings are equal, the economies they live in are not.  I’ve already addressed this to a certain degree; but, let’s grant that this is true.  I can tell you that it does not cost 7.25 times as much to live in the United States than it does in Guatemala.  I can live here on $600.00 per month – not well, but I can live.  It does not cost me $3,500.00 to live in the States; and, that would be with a decent bathroom and hot water shower.

I think it is difficult to support the idea that paying indigenous, Mayan weavers less than the Guatemalan minimum wage is “fair trade.”  It is certainly wrong to claim that half that amount, or less, is in any way fair.

We were also joined at the last minute by a volunteer returning to TRAMA – the association for which I am the current volunteer coordinator – after an absence of almost a year.  Although Rebecca had been absent in body, she certainly hadn’t ceased working for the benefit of the women she’d grown to love – she came bearing gifts.   And I’ll say now that I’ve rarely seen gifts more life changing, or dearly appreciated.

The three of us arose early Saturday morning to catch the micro-bus to San Martin – a 45 minute ride from Xela.  We were greeted by Doña Amparo, the president of TRAMA.  She had arranged our meeting with some of the 29 women of San Martin who are members of the cooperative – one of 17 such groups, scattered around the hinterlands of the Guatemalan highlands.   She apologized that they could not all be there, explaining that it was a harvest season and many of the women were in the fields helping their husbands.  The apology was unnecessary, as we were quite pleased with the turnout.

The ladies were quiet and stoic, which is typical of the Mayan people I’ve met.  The oldest women’s faces showed the deep lines that reflect years of hard work – work that continues regardless of their age.  As I asked somewhat personal questions about their lives, my questions were interpreted from my Spanish to the indigenous language of Mum by Amparo, who speaks both languages, but no English.   Most of the women speak only Mum, while a few knew a few words of Spanish.

The Mayan people are very shy and private, but the women opened up because Amparo explained that there were people in other countries – potential customers – who might be more likely to buy their products if they knew more about their lives.

I asked the number of hours a day they spend weaving. – Three hours in the morning and three in the afternoon.  It was explained that they would weave more but they had clothes to wash and children to feed and care for.  Many of them have only dim candle light in their homes and so do their weaving outside in the sunlight.   Rebecca recounted that once an order for a New York department store had been overdue and the buyer simply couldn’t understand that the women had not been able to weave because there had been too much rain.

How many hours is required to make one of their beautiful embroidered blouses? – Two months of daily work.  I have no problem believing that.  Just look at the incredibly intricate designs.  They also told me that they were taught weaving, and the designs by their mothers, beginning at the age of ten; and that they could tell a woman from another pueblo, and which one she is from, by the unique patterns in her “blusa” (blouse).

I wondered, typically, how many blusas a woman owned. – Two or three.

And how long do they last? – Many years, depending upon how hard they are washed.  And, they are washed by hand in a ribbed cement wash basin.   I’m certain they are washed with much care in the knowledge that a new one will cost two months of labor.

Other information began to emerge. – Like the rising costs of their main staple – maiz (corn).  One 38 year old widow with four children said she needs 75 lbs. of maiz each month.  The cost is about $33 U.S. per 100 lbs, so her monthly expenditure for corn is only $25 U.S.  Those of us from the “first-world” might think anyone in the world would be able to earn that much money each month.  For this Mayan woman it is a struggle.  And it’s certainly not because she is lazy.  Money is scarce in the mountains of Guatemala, where cooking still means gathering or buying firewood, and most food comes from one’s own garden, or chicken coop.

When I was through with my questions, Rebecca began handing out the reading glasses. Each box contained an assortment of optical strengths – diopters ranging from 1.25 to 3.00.  My own experience is that more age demands greater magnification.  It was immediately apparent that, as unbelievable as it seems in our world – these women had never donned a pair of glasses.  The first woman to try kept sticking the stems in her ears instead of above them.

Gentle hands guided them into place and then something happened that caused the three of us to choke back a flood of emotion.  With the glasses situated she looked through the lenses at her companion’s blusa as if she was seeing it for the first time.

The joy in her face was obvious, even if her thoughts could only be imagined.  It was not the first time she’d seen the intricate design, but it was probably the first time she’d seen it clearly in decades.

All the women began trying on their new glasses, tags hanging comically on their noses.  One woman caused the rest to chuckle as she put her glasses on upside down.

The women just kept looking at the intricate hand work they’d been doing in spite of the blurred vision that comes with age.

And then it was time to have some fun with the Gringo.  A woman entered Amparo’s kitchen carrying the traditional clothing of the Mayan man.  Being the good sport that I am, I let them dress me in the short pants and long blouse – cuffs and sleeves embroidered with the same intricate designs as the women’s blusas.

Why is everyone laughing?

I felt really tall.

These scarves are made on the backstrap loom, and represent the construction of beehives. Each small square represents a hole through which bees come and go before it is filled with honey. Although the scarves themselves are not traditional, their form and design are the same that are used in the xerk, the typical Mayan skirt for men in Solola.

The women from Mujeres en Colores Botanicos, or Women in Botanical Colors, are located beside Lake Atitlan in the department of Solola. The women are known for their specialty of using natural dyes for their thread.

The natural tints come from plants and bark such as:
sacatinta – a blue color
coconut shell – brown
carrots – orange
achote – soft orange/peach
hibiscus flower – rosy pink
chilca – soft yellow
bark of the avocado tree – beige
quilete – celery green
guayabe – brown / gold
sacatinta & coconut shell – gray

The women of San Juan La Laguna make these ponchos based on Mayan ceremonial guipiles, using ancient designs passed on from their ancestors. Through the influence of foreign styles, the use of ponchos decreased; but, they began making ponchos again when they saw people appreciated their work.

The Volcano and Lake Chicabal are considered from the Mayan world view, as one of the holiest sites, where annually 40 days after Easter, thousands of people visit the lake to participate in ceremonies for the prayer for the Rain. In this place Mam Maya combines spirituality with the natural mountain scenery, the lake and its surroundings.

Here is my day in photos:

That's me on the left - Mike, and Higinio, my friend and guide on the far right. Between us are Mancy and Emily, two visitors to Xela who stopped by Higinio's shop and signed up for the trip to Chicabal.

The road through the forest is a steep climb. Two of the women ahead of us have babies on their backs. Mayan children's view of the world is over their mother's shoulder for the first two years of their lives.

For 5 Quetzales (65 cents) one could ride. We opted to walk for the excersize and the full experience.

Laguna Chicabal is a lake in the caldera of a volcano, 8,000 ft high. Higinio says the name means "sweet rain" in Mum, one of several indigenous languages of the Mayan people.

This enlargement of the previous photo shows people beginning to gather along the lakeshore. Many of them arrived the day before and camped overnight.

Once you've reached the top of the ancient volcano it's 600 steps down to the lakeshore, and very steep. Muchas gracias for the handrailing.

Hundreds of people had arrived by mid-morning, including vendors of food, treats and souvenir trinkets. Along the lakeshore various groups were constructing their religious offerings.

In the mixture of Catholicism and traditional Mayan beliefs Christian icons are revered, but the cross has a different meaning to the Mayans, and even a different shape, with equal length arms. This one is constructed of incense, candy, and many brightly colored candles.

For more information on the Mayan religion and specifically their use of the cross in their ceremonies look here Mayan Cross.

Another group prepares their offering under the direction of a Mayan priestess. Their cross is a bit differently shaped, inside a circle.

I love this shot. As the group was burning their incense offering and praying the clouds began pouring over the caldera's edge and drifting across the lake.

The faithful must eat, and there was plenty of delicious food being sold, cooked on stoves that had to be carried up, down and then out again. Mayan women perform their duties with babies strapped to their backs, as if they weren't there.

And of course there were corn tortillas, the staple of the Mayan diet. Three for one Quetzal, about 4 cents each.

Cacahuates anyone? (peanuts)

And for dessert, sweet pastries.

I sat and watched the parade as people strolled the path around the lake. Mayans are very shy about having their photo taken, so I was seruptitious, keeping my camera hidden as I snapped my shots. I love the beautifully embroidered clothing the women wear. I've read that the women use designs unique to their own village or area, and someone familiar with them can tell where a woman is from by her dress.

And the Mayan children are beautiful.

This baby boy seems to be taking it all in. The first of hopefully many Días de la Ascensión that he will enjoy in his life.

Perhaps as many as this man has seen in his life. Flowers are an important part of the celebration, and are offered to the spirit of the lake by placing them in the water just beyond the water's edge.

After spending a couple of hours taking it all in, the beauty of the “cloud forest” that surrounds an incredibly peaceful lake; the simple pleasures of simple people renewing their assurances that their god, or gods, were pleased with them and would bless them in the future with rain and bountiful harvests, we labored back up the 600 steps to the volcano’s rim.

The return trip was as easy as the climb had been difficult, but it was even more enjoyable because we fell in with a Mayan family.  I broke the ice and made them all laugh when I asked where I could buy some oxygen.  Then in Spanish I said it would be a good business idea next year to be at the top of the stairway and sell a breath of oxígeno.  Then I mimicked the ice cream vendors by saying “Quetzalquetzalquetzal… oxígeno un quetzal”.  They laughed and laughed.  I guess it’s unusual to find a gringo with a sense of humor.

We talked and laughed together all the way down the mountain.

It took some cajoling and a lot of encouragment from their families, but I finally coaxed these young girls into posing with me. They all seem so serious, but as soon as the photo was taken they burst into laughter and giggling - pleased with what they'd worked up the courage to do.

And as we passed through the upper outskirts of San Martin I couldn't help but take two more photos of the beautiful children who live below Laguna Chicabal.

Perhaps my favorite photo of the day. I should have been a photographer.

The outskirts above San Martin with farm fields too steep for a tractor. No matter, because nobody has one. All the farms are cultivated by hand, with a hoe. Potatoes, corn, squash, carrots, onions and cabbage are the main crops. Subsistance farming, with some cash earned by carrying the surplus to town and selling it in the market. That and the artistic woven products made by the Mayan women.

I came to Quetzaltenango, Guatemala (the locals call it by it’s Mayan name Xela – pronounced Shay-la) as a volunteer to help a cooperative representing 400 indigenous women sell more of their handmade woven products.

I knew these poor women weren’t making much money; but, I was stunned when I discovered they are only making 40 cents an hour.

Our goal is to help them earn $1.00 an hour

That’s how much I made in 1962 carrying out groceries. And, in 1962 that dollar was a hell of a lot bigger than it is now. I don’t want to help them work more hours at ridiculously low wages. I want to help them make at least a dollar an hour. I don’t think ONE DOLLAR an hour is too much for skilled, master weavers. Do you?

The current FTO marketing plan sucks

How do I know it sucks? Because these women are on their knees five hours a day to earn a lousy two bucks! And that sucks. That’s right. They make a beautiful 62″ by 13 1/2″ cotton scarf and are paid $4.00 for it. That’s not what you’ll pay for it in a fancy Fair Trade boutique, or Fair Trade online store.

Check out the prices at various online stores. The average is about $30 and some sell for more than $50. I don’t know what their artisans are making; but, I know what the women here in Guatemala are getting for similar scarves – four dollars.

That wouldn’t be bad if it only took a day to make one – but, it takes a skilled weaver two days, working five hours a day, to make one scarf. Why do they only weave five hours a day? Because they’ve got other work to do. They have families to take care of and laundry to do by hand.

So why aren’t they paid more?

The current marketing system includes too many intermediaries – too many “middle men”. Currently they can only export in large quantities to wholesale buyers in far away countries, like Denmark, Australia, and the United States. Those wholesalers then sell to retailers, who then sell to the retail buying public. The four dollar scarf has become a $30 or $40 scarf.

So what’s the alternative?

I want to help the women sell direct. Right now there are two problems to overcome – payment and shipping. The women in Guatemala don’t have a Paypal account, which is almost essential. My wife, Kili, and I are establishing this website with Paypal, credit and debit card payment options to help cut out the additional steps between the women here in Guatemala and you, the customer.

Here are some beautiful cotton scarves that intrigue the eye with their woven texture and pure colors. Done all in a single color, the open waffle pattern brings this scarf to life.
This scarf measures 62″x13.5″.