Artisans of Mexico: Olinalá

Coming soon to a Ten Thousand Villages store near you – artisan lacquer work from Olinalá.

I have been living in Olinalá since mid September, but it required a visit from a Ten Thousand Villages buyer from Akron for me actually to learn about and see the process that is involved in the artisan work of the area.

Mexico is the last stop for Doug Lapp, the Latin American/Middle East buyer from Ten Thousand Villages, on his whirlwind, three week visit of various artisans in Latin America. My job for the next few days is to help with logistics and translation during the artisan visits in Mexico. And our first visit was to Olinalá today.

I knew it was going to be a long day when they hatched the idea of making the round trip from Cuernavaca, where the nonprofit fair trade organization that Ten Thousand Villages buys from is based, to Olinalá in one day. In previous communications with Inez, the director of the organization, she explained to me that the trip would take seven or eight hours one way. She refused to believe me when I countered that in my three or four trips between the two cities, it has never taken more than five hours. Today would be my lucky day to learn what route requires eight to nine hours of your life in a car.

At 4:30am, without coffee, I settled myself into the backseat of the car beside Doug and forfeited control to Inez and the driver that she had hired to drive her compact Nissan. It was too early for me to attempt conversation, so I lapsed into restless sleep. I roused myself around 7am with the sun only to realize that we were no closer than Chilpancingo, the capital of Guerrero and a good four or five more hours from Olinalá. It took several missed turns, backtracking and asking for directions before we were on the right road to Chilapa. Inez and our driver couldn’t believe there were no road signs! I think it was at that point that it finally set in; this was going to be a longer day then even I had anticipated.

By around 9:30am we were driving through Chilapa, three hours from our destination, when we decided to stop for breakfast. While the coffee was a welcome blessing, the idea of delaying the trip more was not. My opinion was not consulted. And by 1:30pm when we reached the door of Don Jesús, I understood completely what route requires nine hours for a five hour trip; a route that is all highways. I have never been so happy to see Olinalá.

During the two and a half hours that we were out of the car in Olinalá, we had the pleasure of listening and watching Jesús and his wife explain the process for the lacquer work that I see daily as I walk the streets of Olinalá. He and his wife have been involved in this work for years, learning as children from their parents.

The process begins with a black base layer on the wood that is coated with a particular type of oil to give it a glossy sheen. A brown paste of fine earth and oil is applied next, which when dry, Jesús draws the design that is unique for each piece. He was sure to tell us that there is no pattern, only his imagination. For the color, they mix the white dust of marble with a dye powder, red for our demonstration, which is applied to the piece. Using what looks like the point of a feather, he traces the design, in so doing removing the color from which emerges the raised design and color contrast. The last step is repeated before finally applying an oil to produce a glossy and finished look.

The demonstration was abbreviated as is my explanation given the condensed period of time that we were actually in Olinalá. I know that my description does not do justice to the labor intensive process or the talent of the artisan, but I guarantee that the pictures and description that will accompany the product in the Ten Thousand Villages stores this fall will.

As we said our thanks to our artisan hosts around 4pm, it pained me to say goodbye, knowing the long road trip that was ahead of us. My only consolation was that several of the locals of Olinalá had convinced Inez that the route through Papalutla, my usual route, was faster and that the road was fine. I knew that road was not paved, which was a high priority for Inez as she did not want anything to happen to her precious car, but I was not about to mention this fact.

As we laboriously made our way down the windy, dirt road, the angst and disapproval from Inez and our driver were continual. They were certain that death or disaster were eminent at every turn. I gladly ignored their dissatisfaction for the one hour of unpaved road and continued to talk with Doug, knowing that the trip would be hours less than this morning’s interminable drive. The comments of disapproval continued even when we reached the comfort of the highway where they could see road signs and knew where they were. By 8:30pm when we pulled up to our hotel, we had all discovered that the trip could be four and a half hours with a little sense of adventure and humor.