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"Weaving Meaning Into Cloth" 
---by Alice Hutchinson
Catching a glimpse of a Trique lady scurrying around Oaxaca in her striking red huipile (indigenous blouse), is like catching a glimpse of a butterfly. Which, as it turns out, is exactly what a huipile is. More or less.
“Until the butterfly leaves its cocoon, you never know what it will look like. It is the same with our huipiles,” says weaver Martiez Martinez, as she describes where the Trique people find their inspiration.
Their huipiles are, however, more than just eyecatching works of art that help endow Oaxaca with its color. They allow the keen observer to gauge something of the Trique’s largely secret system of beliefs. They are symbols of cultural identity, differentiating the Trique from the 16 other indigenous groups in Oaxaca, and they highlight a woman’s status (or lack of) in a largely male-dominated society.
White or brown cotton, ankle-length Trique huipiles are embellished with horizontal stripes of brocaded designs, framed by solid bands of red gusano (worm) that are made using the ancient practice of telar de cintura or backstrap weaving. One of their key features, which has been maintained for centuries, is the central breastplate that always consists of a block of straight or downwards zig-zag stitches, above which lie criss-crossed stitches. These represent lightening and rain, crucial life-giving elements. According to some academics, the breastplate is referred to as the wo or wole which possibly meant dawn in pre-Hispanic times. It is the door to the huipile, or the “mother of the big butterfly” through which life enters and leaves. Whatever the actual explanation, a true Trique huipile is not complete without the breastplate.
A mixture of pre-Hispanic and modern embroidered designs fill today’s Trique huipiles. “Sometimes we do stars, butterflies, birds, rabbits and lovers like we always have, other times we do apples and other newer signs,” explains Martinez. “The young always have some walking people and twists, because they are just starting life,” she adds. The presence of rabbits may have something to do with one of the Trique’s creation myths, which describes how the sun and the moon gods, who once lived in a calabaza, broke out and rode a rabbit and a cat into the heavens to light the world.
A ribbon neck edging, of triangular cuts known as piecitos de dios (little beaks of god) perform a practical function, covering seams, as does the ribbon which lines the front and back. Free-flowing ribbons are part of a relatively recent fad. “You have a tag to show which is the back of your sweaters, we use ribbon,” says Martiez.
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The arrival of cheaper cottons and dyes mean many Trique prefer a red huipile regardless of age. Traditionally however, bands of red were consistently added to the huipile as a young woman became older, culminating in lots of red by the time they were middle aged. Then the amount of red was reduced. “My mother’s hair has gone gray, so she is talking of putting more white in her huipile,” says Martinez. The return to white symbolizes the importance of cycles in the Trique way of life. Martienz uses another butterfly analogy to illustrate that, “we are always in constant metamorphosis.”
That the Trique still have such a poetic outlook on life is admirable, considering they have suffered nothing but hardship for centuries. Their homelands are comprised of a small enclave, surrounded by Mixteco in the mountains of north-west Oaxaca. Since 1848 they have fought numerous battles with neighbors and investors over land rights, resulting in raids and even bombings. Low prices for crops, and a rural existence marked by a lack of schools, electricity and water has forced many to migrate to the city of Oaxaca in search of work. A woman’s position in Trique society is notoriously weak. It is not unheard of for young girls to be purchased by their husbands in exchange for guaranteeing a life of toil on the land while unemployed men drown their sorrows with aguardiente.
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Too often however, to be indigenous and a female, is to be disadvantaged. As Alan Riding states, in his book Distant Neighbours: “Proud of its Indian past, Mexico seems ashamed of its Indian present’. In Chiapas, for example, indigenous people were only granted the right to walk on the streets during the 1970s. Perhaps it is for this reason that some younger Triques prefer not to wear their traditional huipiles.
This does not mean however, that Trique women have forgotten how to make huipiles—for the time being at least. “My daughter learned to weave when she was four,” says Martinez. “She does have a huipile, but only wears it for special occasions.” Tourism, in part, is helping to maintain their weaving tradition, but is changing it in the process.
While weaving techniques remain the same, more and more Triques are using cheaper synthetic materials. “Synthetic huipiles are lighter to carry around for us, and most tourists do not know the difference between these and cotton ones,” notes Martinez, but she adds that they, “avanza mucho muy rapido.” In other words they don’t last half as long. Tourists hate paying the high prices, which Triques rightly charge for more heavily embroidered, natural cotton huipiles that take up to six months to complete. For this reason, Triques are opting to weave wall hangings and sell large quantities of mass-produced cotton shirts and blouses, which provide them with a more steady income.
Although, like many street merchants in Oaxaca, they have campaigned to sell their goods in the Zocalo, currently, they remain behind the far wall of Santo Domingo. If you want to purchase your very own butterfly you will find them there every day except Sunday.
by Alice Hutchinson
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This article was brought to you courtesy of iccoax Spanish language school in Oaxaca
 MAP OF OAXACA CENTRAL VALLEYS: Archeological sites and craft villages.
MAP OF OAXACA HISTORIC CENTER: Hotels, restaurants, and points of interest.
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