Kuna Kids

Our time in the San Blas Islands of Panama was filled with stunning beauty.  The fish filled reefs, the native rainforest, and the palm fringed beaches were all spectacular (see our Sept. and Oct. postings for stories and pictures of this area).  And we found the native Kuna people to be just as beautiful as the landscape.  We loved connecting with the Kuna people, and developed some rewarding relationships with many of them.  And, the children we encountered were particularly delightful.  Kuna kids seemed to be, well, simply happy.  See for yourself in this slideshow of some of our favorite snapshots of Kuna Kids...

Nuedi!

Master Mola Makers

 After a morning of island exploration and snorkeling, we were preparing to sail on to our next destination, and in a hurry so that we could navigate through the reefs in good light. 

Reef and Island in the San Blas: Exploration Heaven

There's a crab on a rock, in a hole, in a log, on a beach, on an island, in the middle of the sea.
There's a bug, on a crab, on a rock...Oh never mind.

As we were rushing around preparing to pick up the anchor, a large ulu with two people in it approached.  I groaned inwardly. Here in the San Blas Islands -the Kuna Yala- we often get visiting ulus (dugout canoes) to our boat while at anchor.  Most of the time it’s someone offering something for sale: fish, lobster, soda, or molas.   I figured I’d be as polite as possible, but would try to shoo the ulu off quickly so that we could move on.   

Let me introduce myself....Venancio: Master Mola Maker

As the ulu drew up, two men were aboard and the guy in front handed me a business card which read: "Venencio, Master Mola Maker".   Huh.  Venancio.  A man?  Most molas are made by women, but then I remembered reading that in the Kuna society there are many cross-dressing men who make and sell molas.   Being trans, gay or living an "alternate lifestyle" seems to carry no stigma among the Kuna.  

Lisa, the famous trans mola maker.

 I had heard about “Lisa”, perhaps the most famous trans person in the Kuna Yala, known for her very fine mola artistry.  

Venencio, with a piece of his mola art.  

Venancio's card said “Master Mola Maker”, and that was clearly true.  A well made mola will have many layers of cloth, intricately cut and sewn designs and details, traditional designs are usually geometric or of animal motifs and are often symmetrical and mirror imaged from side to side.  And if one looks at the back side, the smaller and neater the stitching, the better.

Swallow Mola, front.  Symetrical, mirror-imaged, traditional fauna design.

Back side of the swallow mola.  Note the fine, precise stitching.

I’ve seen a lot of molas, but NONE as finely crafted, delicately sewn, and beautifully designed as Venancio’s work.  And he had hundreds.  

Venancio displays a few of the hundreds of pieces he has created.

Mucho Molas

We held court with Venancio for almost two hours and bought six molas, spending more money (and time!) than we had intended.  Venancio is proud of his work and demands a fairly high price for them.  But I love fine folk art, and to me these pieces were worth every penny.  

Mulling molas: difficult decision making.

We finally said goodbye to Venencio and his ulu driver, picked up anchor and headed off to our next stop a few miles up the road.  Our anchor had just barely settled in the sand when a panga approached.  And as the boat pulled up alongside,  it turned out to be none other than the infamous Lisa.  

One of Lisa's intricate molas.  On top is a Kuna woman and child.
Bottom is King Soloman, splitting the baby.
Lisa is peeking thru on the left.

Her card read, "Mola Lisa - Master Mola Maker".  And of course, I couldn't resist her fine work either.   I bought a mola from her, too.

Medicine Woman, by "Master Mola Maker" Lisa

Our ever growing Mola collection.

Finding Marcella in the Kuna Yala

In 1994 we first visited the San Blas Islands in Panama, 

home of the Kuna Indians, and took this picture:

Wichubwalla girls, 1994

The photo has always been a favorite of mine, three adorable girls with  an adult woman all dressed in the traditional Kuna garb of mola blouses, wrap skirts, and head scarfs.  The three young girls look happy as they each display a pet bird atop their heads.  It’s one of the images and memories that lured us back for another visit to this idyllic spot. 

And so, nearly 20 years later we have returned to visit the San Blas Islands again, home to the indigenous  Kuna Indians who inhabit an archipelago of 340 islands, as well as a stretch of virgin rainforest on the mainland of the eastern Caribbean coast of Panama.  Although part of Panama, the Kunas are autonomous and self governing.  Non-Kunas are not permitted to invest or buy property in their territory, which they call Kuna Yala.  Kuna people are small in stature (only the Pygmies are shorter as a group), energetic, friendly and welcoming of visitors to their beautiful territory. 

An island in the San Blas, Panama, home of the Kuna people.  

A sailing ulu in the Kuna Yala.

Kuna sisters.

Kuna men are expert seamen, paddling and sailing their dugout canoes - ulus - all over their stretch of the Caribbean while fishing and diving for seafood, providing food for their families, with the excess shipped off for sale in Panama City.  

Kuna women are master seamstresses, sewing intricately embroidered molas that they wear and sell to tourists.  The Kuna speak their own language, although most also speak Spanish.

Expert seafaring Kuna men.

The Dock at Wichubwalla.  

Wichubwalla, Kuna Yala, Panama.

Wichubwala, where the original photo was taken, is an almost perfectly round island, chock-a-block full of homes connected by dirt foot paths.  Actually, huts is probably a more accurate description; most are constructed of bamboo sticks with tin or palm-frond roofs.  We landed our dinghy at the small cement pier where a large (by Kuna standards) store is located.  We checked out the store briefly and then set off along the dirt foot-paths to explore the island.  Kuna women stopped us for  mola “show and sell” at nearly every hut. 

The Store, colorfully painted.

Main Street, Wichubala

Wanna buy a mola?

Although I  was interested in their handiwork, I had something else in mind.  I was there on a mission: to find out what had happened to the woman and girls in the photo.  By now the girls would probably be in their mid-twenties.  Would they still live on the island?  Were they married?  Have children?   I  had my iPhone in hand, with the original photo loaded up and at the ready. 

Typical housing in the Kuna Yala.

From left to right:
Marisol, Niema, and Marcella.
Salina standing behind.

The first group of women I showed the photo to smiled and pointed, jabbering among themselves.  They seemed to recognize the girls, and said the woman’s name was Salina, but that she was not living there anymore.  They also rattled off the names of the little girls.  I asked if the girls lived on the island, but our language barrier became an issue, and they walked me over to a younger woman.  I showed her the photo and she beamed...these were her contemporaries and she clearly knew them:  Marisol, Niema, and Marcella.  She told me that Marisol, Salina and her daughter Niema now all lived in Panama City.  But Marcella, the girl on the far right in the photo, still lives here on the island.  She is married and has children, BUT, I was told that she was “inferma” - she was sick.  It sounded like it was a serious illness, although she didn’t explain further, other than to say that I wouldn’t be able to visit her.  I was disappointed, but still excited to have learned what had become of these women.

Pet parakeets.

We continued to walk around the island, found a few molas that caught our interest and bought them.  While chatting with one young woman, I noticed a couple of  green pet parakeets near her front gate.  I remembered my photo with the three girls with parrots on their heads, so I pulled out the photo again to show her the girls with the birds.  My new friend squealed with delight.  Did she know them?  Oh yes,  she knows Marcella...and she turned around to point out a boy of about 6 years old standing behind her.  This boy was Marcella’s son! 

Finding Marcella's son, quite by accident.

Turns out Marcella is her dear friend (possibly family?).  I asked about Marcella’s illness; was it very bad/malo?  Yes, she said, very malo.  And then she said one word, very sadly: “bebe”.   A baby.  Marcella had lost a baby about one month ago.  I nearly cried.  Of course she was “inferma”!  How devastating.  I completely understood now why I couldn’t visit and didn’t even ask...except that my new friend immediately took me by the hand and walked me directly to Marcella’s hut.  She marched right in with the photo in hand, Marcella’s son trailing behind.

And so, I found Marcella. 

Marcella.  Found.

She had the same shy smile and manner.  Marcella looked at the picture, smiled and giggled softly, and showed the photo around to the other women in the house.  A bit later Marcella’s brother-in-law came running in with his cell phone.  He wanted to take a picture of my photo with his cell phone.  Everyone was chattering, laughing and enjoying the moment.  I was so happy to have found Marcella, but I felt badly about barging into her home while she was still recovering from her loss.  

Although she was welcoming and friendly, she looked tired.  She was thin and wan, except for a bit of a tummy bulge, evidence of her recent loss.  But, she smiled warmly at me and was clearly pleased to have seen the picture of herself.  She said she must have been about 8 at the time of the photo, and told me she has three children, aged 4, 6 and 8.   

A  grandmother brought out some of Marcella’s molas for me to look at, and I was delighted to be able to buy one - a lovely turtle design. 

Kuna grandma.

Turtle mola, crafted by Marcella.

Marcella has grown up over the past 20 years, and in many ways, so has the Kuna Yala.  In 1994 it really was “...no phone, no lights, no motorcars, as primitive as can be...”.  Now it seems that many Kunas have cell phones, and there appears to be electric power at many of the villages.  TV antennas and satellite dishes have sprouted from thatched rooftops.  The young people want to know if we will post their pictures on Facebook, and some schools have internet access.  The forward march of “progress” and technology seems to have reached the San Blas.  

Antenna sculpture.

Decorative satellite dish.

Chatting with some Kuna kids.

Yet much seems to have stayed the same.  

Although there are plenty of outboard powered pangas, men still ply the waters in dugout canoes under paddle or sail power.  
Fathers can still be seen teaching their sons where the best fishing spots are.  

And women are still teaching their daughters how to stitch a fine mola.  I don’t know what changes the next 20 years will bring to the Kuna, but I certainly wish Marcella and her tribe the very best.

What changes will the next 20 years bring for these sweet Kuna school children?
Maybe we will return again to find out.