Hand crafting the not-so-simple palm frond broom

text and photos by Kathy Rousso

Palma real (royal palm) grows in Guatemala’s hot climatic regions, and many products can be made from the fronds of this tree. Custom dictates that the harvest takes place three days before the full moon, after which the fronds are dried and split into strips. The outer part of the strip is used for hats and the inner section turned into brooms. Palm can also be woven into baskets, around rum bottles or made into petates (mats).

Jocotán, Chiquimula is one municipality where palm brooms are commonly found. While sometimes sold in local shops, it is always best to buy from the maker, which requires an early Sunday morning visit, sometime before 9 a.m. This is the day of the weekly market, where brooms sell by the dozen. Besides Jocotán, I have seen the same broom style in San Francisco Gotera, Morazán (El Salvador), Purulha, Baja Verapaz and Colotenango, Huehuetenango markets.

One day I asked a woman selling brooms if she would be willing to teach me how they were made. She agreed, and on the scheduled day I took a microbus to a specified highway stop with detailed instructions of how to find her house. After an hour or so of wandering around the aldea I finally located her, with a broom in process.

Strips of palm had been bunched and tied together with a strand of palm. The loose strips were bent back to form a “head.” Mostly white strips are used, but buyers like a few green colored strips mixed in, so they are placed at intervals as well. A separate single palm strand was tied around the “broom” and individual strips of palm were inserted evenly spaced underneath it.

To hold everything together an interesting technique was used. A long, single strand of tul (rush or reed) was tied to the single palm strand, and as it wrapped around, toward the top, each added palm strand was looped around it in a half-hitch knot. Sometimes one or two brightly colored aniline-dyed strands are inserted, which creates a spiral pattern. The final step was to shove a stick into the center of the “head” and secure it with nails.

It always amazes me to learn intriguing techniques used for making relatively simple, utilitarian objects, and I often wonder where the idea came from and if there is more than meets the eye. Who knows, maybe once long ago, these beautiful brooms might have been a regal tradition, as is the case with petates, also made in Jocotán (although usually from tul).

Petates, an important utilitarian item, are also ritualistic and seen as a symbol of power. Ancient Mayan calendars were painted on mats, and Pop (mat) is the first month of the Mayan calendar. Once considered a royal tradition, each woven strip represented the reality of time and space, or the Mayan cosmo-vision, and only a ruler, known as “lord of the mat,” was allowed to sit on them.

So, it could be that besides sweeping the floor, brooms could also symbolize something else. After all, they are made from royal palm.

Kathy Rousso is an accomplished textile artist and writer. She is a frequent Revue contributor; her current book, Maguey Journey – Discovering Textiles in Guatemala, is available through the University of Arizona Press and online at Amazon.com

Red beads have long held a certain fascination not just here but around the world.

There are not a lot of words that have crossed over from Guatemala’s 22 indigenous languages into Spanish. One that has, huipil, actually comes from Nahua huipilli in Mexico and arrived in the early 16th century with the Nahuatl, who accompanied the Spaniards to Guatemala. A huipil is, of course, a woman’s blouse.

A second word is chachal, Quiché for necklace. The evolution of chachales in Guatemala is a fascinating tale of history, economics and anthropology. At the time of the Conquest, Guatemala’s indigenous prized red coral as component in necklaces. As easily recoverable near-shore coral became scarce, sharp traders, chiefly in Europe, manufactured substitutes and introduced them into Guatemala as trade goods. These were almost but not always red, apparently to satisfy taste here and elsewhere.

Red beads have long held a certain fascination not just here but around the world. As many as 2,000 years ago in early Aleppo in modern-day Syria, red carnelian stones were fashioned into beads worn by donkeys and said to protect the rider from the evil eye. They were subsequently made of red glass. The word morphed into cornaline d’aleppo, and came to Guatemala as perhaps the most famous trade bead that was once in common use in Guatemala.

Still manufactured today, chiefly in the Italian glass-making centers at Murano near Venice, red glass beads with a white center or “heart” made their way into Guatemalan chachales in place of coral. Hudson Bay Trading Company records in Canada show that 1.6 of these beads, also called white hearts, were exchangeable for a single beaver pelt.

Different areas of Guatemala adopted different colors of beads. The most striking example is the town of Patzún, where the indigenous prized and still wear blue beads.

As time went on in Guatemala, different areas of Guatemala adopted different colors of beads. The most striking example is the town of Patzún in Chimaltenango, where the indigenous prized and still wear blue beads, the early ones of which are known to bead collectors as “Patzún blues.” When and how these beads were introduced into and became standard apparel in Patzún is not recorded. (Fascination with blue-eyed Spaniards?) But the earliest Patzún beads would appear to be—judging by their style of manufacture—from the 16th to 18th century.

Another distinctive bead arrived, probably in the 19th century, from Gujarat, India. Called Coca Cola beads by collectors by virtue of their green glass color, these beads were hand fashioned and pierced when hot with a nail, which accounts for the tapered hole in each bead. When beads began to be machine produced in Gablonice in today’s Czech Republic, white beads became popular in Guatemala in the mid to late 19th century. The Gablonice beads, again still manufactured today, are instantly recognizable by the distinct lines that appear on the circle about where the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn would be on the Earth.

Sharp-eyed collectors can still find early beads in Guatemala, and each necklace tells a tale. It is probably not a constant or original tale of style and bead arrangement, since monofilament line is a recent invention, and beads were strung and restrung constantly. Likewise, as the fortunes of wearers changed, it is reasonable to think that silver was removed to be spent in time of need and added during times of prosperity. Many of the coins found in necklaces today come from an “unfortunate” period of Guatemala’s coinage history. When the government abandoned the silver standard at the turn of the 20th century, it began minting nickel copies of silver coins. When trading nations refused to deal with Guatemala, these beads became essentially worthless and made their way popularly into chachales.

Most of the silver coins passed off today as original are counterfeit. The bubbly surface is the tip-off since early coinage was struck, not poured into a bubble-producing mold.

As the 20th century arrived, mass-produced beads from China and elsewhere came into Guatemala, again most often red in color. In addition, since world travel soared after World War II, beads have made their way from and to strange places, including Africa. Blame the Peace Corps and backpackers for Guatemala’s straying from the traditional coral, red glass and coins.

Note: The author, cited in most bead reference works, wrote the benchmark studies on glass beads in Guatemalan chachales in the late 1970s. If a reader has a question or comment, or would like an opinion on the source and age of a bead, send your photo to gmg977@yahoo.com