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!

More-Make-Tupu

Isla Maquina - Mola Maker Island

Intrigued by the name - Mola-Maker Island - as well as the fact that our favorite “Master Mola Maker” Venancio hails from this island, (See the post about "Master Mola Maker" Venancio, here.) we decided to put in a call to the place.  The island’s official name is Isla Maquina, but it’s also called More-make-tupu by the Kuna.  In the Kuna language Mor means Mola, make means making, and tupu means island.  We dropped our anchor just off the island, nestled between a number of reefs.  Before we had the chance to wonder if we could locate Venancio on the tiny island, a panga motored up along side us.  We immediately recognized none other than Venancio himself.  We greeted each other as old friends, and Venancio introduced us to the driver - his brother Idelfonso. 

The "Swift Butlerfly" docked next to the Restrepo home.

Idelfonso handed us his card.  He is a panga-launch driver, The "Swift Butlerfly" (sic), essentially a water taxi, as well as a local guide.  His services include leading river tours, kayaking and jungle treks.   He suggested that we consider taking a tour up the nearby river the next

Idel was so proud of his boat name, so we did not 
have the heart to explain the spelling error.

morning.  In excellent English Idelfonso explained that he would be able to tell us all about Kuna history and traditions during such a tour.  We told him we’d think about it, and that we would come in to visit the island in a bit to look for some eggs and bread.  Oh, yes...and to maybe look at a few molas, too.

We arrived at the dock and found The Restrepo family hut/compound right next door.  We were ushered in and given seats on plastic lawn chairs, surrounded by Venancio and Idelfonso’s entire family.  We met the matriarch of the family - Venancio and Idelfonso’s mother - as well as several sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, and Idelfonso’s two young children. 

Checking out molas in Venancio's home.  Idelfonso is on the right in the red hat.

They all sat and watched as we took another awed look through Venancio’s artwork.  With gifts for friends and family in mind we bought more magnificent molas.  Venancio’s mola selling IS a family affair; all the money that Venancio makes is shared with his entire family.   There were about 15 family members all living together in a number of connected huts.   The money each family member makes, and the food that is caught or gathered is used for the good of the entire clan.  

Jungle Tour.

The family, along for the ride. 

We agreed to have Idelfonso  (Idel for short) take us up the river on a tour the next day.  As an added bonus, we discovered that a neighboring island was having a “chicha” ceremony with traditional dancing in the evening, and he could take us there to watch the dance.  So the next morning Idel picked us up in his panga and headed for the river.  Along for the ride were one of Idel’s sisters and two nieces (and several small children) who were going to the cemetery to visit the grave of Idel’s father.  Idel’s brother-in-law and nephew were going along to visit their family farm plot in order to gather some yucca, which is a staple in the Kuna diet.  

Kuna cemetery.

Burial mound, with cocoa bean incense, and the departed's personal mug.

Preparing the cocoa bean and charcoal offering.

We had read that Kuna cemeteries are considered very sacred, and that they should not be visited by outsiders, so we felt particularly lucky to have Idel’s family welcome us to the cemetery while Idel explained some of their beliefs and rituals.  The cemetery consists of a number of palm-frond sheltered family plots, with earthen mounds where the loved one is buried.  Family members visit the cemetery on a weekly basis, sweeping the family plot clean and burning cocoa beans in charcoal.  Idel told us that the burial ceremony consists of the body being put aboard a special ulu adorned with colorful flags, that is guided up the river to the cemetery.  I’m not sure I completely understood, but I think the burial ritual involves this ulu blocking the river entrance for a week while the family of the dead mourns. A few days later one of Idel’s nephews showed me a pint-sized model of a ceremonial ulu/hearse that he had made; another lovely piece of Kuna folk-art.

Kuna burial ulu - lovely piece of folk art.

After Idel showed us around the small cemetery, the women had two hammocks that they hung up on the shelter and they settled in to mind the grave while Idel led us off for a tramp through the jungle. 

Relaxing at the grave site.

Hola, log carrying man.

We slushed through the wet muck of the jungle for a short hike, jumping over lear-cutter ant trails and saying “hola” to an number of men carrying logs on their shoulders as they headed toward the river with their hut-construction materials.  After our hike, Idel’s brother-in-law returned with the yucca from further up the river, and we all piled back into the panga for the return trip.

Back down the river after procuring yucca.

Later that evening Idel took us (along with his wife and niece) to the nearby Island of Sidra where a “Chicha” ceremony was in progress.  This happens once or twice a year when sugarcane is fermented and turned into wine, and then a week of drinking and dancing ensues.  We felt so lucky to have stumbled onto one of these events.  (But, we were told that photography of the ceremony was NOT allowed.)  We approached the island in the dark and followed Idel through the maze of huts to the Chicha building.  

Chicha building at Isla Maquina.
The Chica Casa that we visited at Rio Sidra was four times larger.

The structure is a very large oblong shaped hut, probably about 40 x 60 feet, made of bamboo walls with a 20 ft. high, palm-thatched roof.  Inside there were benches hugging the walls, filled with Kunas, who sat watching the dancers.  Along one wall were several HUGE clay pots in which the chicha (sugar-cane alcohol) is held.  At the center of the hut were two men - shaman - playing bamboo flutes and singing in a language only the shaman know.

Married Kuna women wear beads on their arms and legs.
The beads are placed when they get married,
and are never removed thereafter.

 There were about a dozen pair of dancers; women dressed in their traditional mola blouses, beaded arms and legs, and wrap skirts, while the men wore pink ruffled shirts and shorts or jeans.  They were all barefoot, and the dancing was a complicated choreography of clapping and stomping as they circled the shaman in a counter-clockwise pattern.  The group of dancers circled the shaman for fifteen or twenty minutes, then stopped  for a break, and get a drink. 

Traditional leg beading.

Then a different set of dancers took to the dance floor, with dancers continuing for as long as the shaman sang - often from about 6 pm until after midnight.  Apparently the festivities and evening dancing goes on for a week, starting with drinking of the “chicha”, but as the week wears on, the chicha runs out, and they end up drinking whatever alcohol is available.  According to Idelfonso, this evening was the final night of dancing, and the only thing left to drink was canned beer and a little rum. 

During each break the kids all run to the dance floor and run in circles, playing the Kuna version of crack-the-whip.  During each break the kids would come and grab Jamie’s hand, hauling him around the room to great squeals of giddy laughter.  Several different men also gamely tried to show Dev and I how to do some of the dance moves.  Our attempts at Kuna ritual dancing were a complete failure, but everyone was drunk enough for it to be great entertainment. 

Hanging out with the Restrepos.

We spent several more days visiting with the Restrepo family, and making friends with other Moremake Tupu Islanders.  Brady spent hours giving boys rides on the boogie board pulled behind our dingy, and Jamie played marbles and basketball with the boys on Isla Maquina. 

Kuna kids getting boogie board rides.

Jamie and the Kuna Kayak.

 He also had the chance to use Idelfonso’s dugout “kayak”.   We traded some rope, anchor, and some fishing supplies for a small painted ulu and a few other items.  

Marbles, an international boyhood pastime.

The Restrepo family gave us some yucca, and three ladies paddled out to our boat with a hot pot of this root vegetable to show us how they prepare it, and what it tastes like....which turns out, is very similar to a potato.  

Sophie admires our yucca. Tastes like potato.

Although it was time for us to move on, we hated to go.  These people had become friends, and had freely shared their way of life with us.  With hopes of returning again sometime in the future, we pulled up our anchor and headed off toward our next adventure.

The Restrepo ladies, paddling out to give us a taste of yucca.

Kuna Coconut Farming

Morning in the San Blas Islands

It was early in the morning, and as I lay in bed I felt the unmistakable rocking of our boat caused by the wakes of other boats going by.   This was a bit unusual, as the island we were anchored near was normally quiet and uninhabited.  As I peeked outside, I spied 9 different boats on the shore of the island.  This was not normal.   It was clear that something was going on.  Work of some sort, perhaps?  Jamie wanted to go check out the ulus, and see what was going on on the island.  And so we set out toward shore in our dingy.  

Ulu convention.

A fine sailing vessel.

Ulus at rest. 

We found about 15-20 men spread out over the island, all with machetes.  They were slicing/chopping down the 1-2 foot high grass and weeds that were growing all over the ground.  Then we noticed that they were collecting all the dead palm fronds and other detritus and putting them in piles all over the place.  In my stunted Spanish I asked about the work project.  Turns out these men are all family members; brothers, uncles, fathers, sons from all over the Kuna Yala- villages like Nargana, Azucar, Sidra - from near and far.  This little island belongs to their family. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that the coconuts on the island belong to this family. 

Mucho Trabajo: Hard work clearing the land under the coconut palms.

 One very friendly guy explained that if they don’t keep the ground clear and remove the dead fronds that the coconut trees don’t produce well, and may die.  If I understood correctly, this month is the appointed time to clear off this particular island.  They do this every three months or so.  One guy told me that they collect one thousand coconuts from this island every month.  I believe that the coconuts are sold and the money distributed to the family members.  

Piles of detritus that will be burned.

We watched for a bit, and then wandered off to admire the collections of ulus tied to the shore. 

A particularly fine ulu specimen.

Little did we know it, but our short conversation with that one very friendly guy would lead to yet another interesting adventure a few days later.  Read more about our experience with this cool dude -"The Panther Hunter" - in an upcoming post.

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.