Passing On Tradition

A glimpse into the lives of artisan mothers from across the Philippines, and how they’re fighting to keep their heritage alive

The Philippines is widely known as a country rich in culture. With over 180 known ethnic groups spread across the archipelago, paired with colonial influences throughout the centuries, our heritage is as diverse as they come.

Philippine textile and handicrafts have always been a source of pride for our country, long adored by locals and tourists the world over. An art form passed down through the generations, now threatened by the hardships brought about by the global pandemic, weaving communities are doing everything in their power to ensure that their traditions live on. How often do we stop to think where these goods come from or how they were made?

The ornate artistry of each handmade product tells a story. Every element, design, and technique are all part of ancient traditions that have become a way of life for many communities. But behind the culture and traditions are dedicated women, masters of their skills, who are doing what they can to put food on the table and send their children through school. For them, being able to support their families go hand-in-hand with the survival of their heritage.

This is their story— bound by tradition and driven with purpose. After all, these weavers are mothers, too.

---

Evalynda Otong
4th Generation Yakan Weaver, Basilan

It was my grandmother and mother who taught me how to weave. I started at the age of seven, and by 15, although I still needed guidance with the more complicated designs, I was already weaving with bigger looms which were used to make table runners. We used to farm during the day and were only able to weave at night, usually with barely any electricity. Over the years, it has gotten much easier.

I went to college and was one of the first Yakan women to finish her education.

The pandemic has greatly affected us with the closure of everything and the lack of tourists visiting our village. Most of us became involved with gardening as a means to survive. Even until now, we are still facing numerous challenges as Covid cases continue to spike in Zamboanga City.

The weaving of Tennun is an ancient weave and is the identity of the Yakan.

We are nature dwellers, and you can see the geometric connections to nature in our patterns— fish, flowers, snakes, vines, trees, mountains, turtles, sky, stars, etc. Aside from it being a source of income for our families, it is how we keep our tradition alive. I’ve made sure that my daughters, who are 16 and 4, are able to explore their weaving skills. It is most important for our heritage to keep this tradition alive.

---

Loida Macuroy
Inabel Weaver, La Union

When I was 15 years old, I used to always watch my mother weave. One day, I just tried it and it eventually became one of my responsibilities. I worked on it everyday after school, and after many years, I learned to love it. Now, I know all of the designs.

I love weaving because it’s a craft that allows us to work with our culture while still being able to tend to our families. I weave all the patterns that I know- diamond, banig banig, brocade, tugot pusa, hoolahoop, and so many others.

We have gone through months without any buyers, so the finished weaves have just become stock and could not be sold. Because of this, our employer had no resources to pay us. The pandemic has had a big impact on our livelihood.

I want other parents within our community who have just been at home to learn Habi so that our traditions can continue. I would like to encourage other mothers in our community to learn this craft and start weaving so they can provide for their families, make their own money, and have the means to send their children to school.

---

Mary Jane Orate
Tagolwanen Weaver, Bukidnon

My Mother taught me how to weave a mat when I was 9 years old. It wasn’t until I was 24 years old that I became a highly skilled weaver. Before we started weaving, we used to cut trees to sell firewood for extra income. Now that we can earn through weaving, we focused on planting the sodsod grass, which is the main material for our banigs.

The income I earn from weaving helps our family with our daily expenses. Weaving has also helped me send my children to school. I want to inspire the Tagolwanen kids to also weave and continue the art of Tagolwanen mat making.

Life became much harder for us weavers since the pandemic started. We were not earning anything because our showroom has been closed. We were not allowed to go out, so we couldn’t look for other jobs. Some weavers who had small businesses also were not able to continue their business.

Even though life has been hard, the pandemic also had a positive effect on us. This situation made us think of how life is worth living. It helped us to be united and live as one. It also helped us to become more responsible in handling things, so in a way, we also became better people.

I would like my children to become highly skilled weavers and continue making mats. I also want them to teach their children.

Our concern is having a steady supply of sodsod grass so that weaving continues. Sodsod grass grows fast, and will not run out. But if the pandemic continues, we also cannot go out to harvest.
I love that my children can go to school because of weaving. We have extra income because of weaving. I also like meeting up with other TWWA members, but that has lessened because of the pandemic.

---

Saturnina Atinan
Cordillera Weaver, Benguet

I started weaving between 1988-1989, just before the 1990 earthquake. I was newly married when an opportunity came in the community. Tublay School of Home Industries created a program that offered different types of training, and weaving was one of them. I received my training when I was 25 years old. It took years of experience, from the day I started training and even up to this day.

Weaving is not just a profession but a way of preserving one’s culture. It takes patience to create art that symbolizes identity, as every loom has its meaning— every pattern created from a cone of yarn turns into something that represents our culture and identity.

Family has always been the sole purpose of one’s perseverance, but the passion and the sisterhood formed throughout the years of kinship in our profession has kept me persistent.

I have passed down the tradition of weaving to my children as it is a way of living. When my children were able, they began helping me in carrying out the tasks to complete orders since I am also a mother by profession, and there are other responsibilities at home.

With the nature of textile production during this time, things are bound to change with industrialization. One example is the counterfeit production of woven textiles from China and other parts of the world. This will certainly create an impact in the traditional weaving industry, but most importantly, it imposes a threat to our culture and tradition.

From the simple perspective as a mother of seven children, I believe that time has always been precious. I enjoy spending time with my children as I value such memories with my family. I am a widow, and I have spent most of my time earning a living for my family through weaving.

A message to the next generation of weavers:

Do not be constrained by trends in society. Culture can always be preserved through incorporating changes even with reservations. It is not an obligation to adapt to all trends, but it is necessary for tradition to persevere.

---

Raquel Eliserio
Pina Weaver, Aklan

I officially started weaving when I got home from Manila and realized that my passion was really meant for my cultural heritage and my community. Weaving is really in our family— my great grandparents would weave their own fabric and turn them into clothing.

I decided to join the training sessions on Piña weaving in Aklan State University with the project of Philippine Fiber Industry and Development Authority. That’s when I professionally started weaving and made it my livelihood— I was 17 then.

Weaving is incredibly personal for me. Every length of piña fabric represents the resilience of my community. Well propagated red spanish pineapple, delicately scarped, and finely knotted by many hands, just to have the continuous filaments of piña for meticulous weaving is too precious of a story. Every length of piña fabric deserves to be worn.

Being in a grassroot community is hard. The only way for us to survive is by being resourceful and hardworking. Through this craft, I was able to live a life I dreamed about and support the needs of my family. I hope to inspire others and show them that you can live a good life through this craft.

Just like everyone else, we’ve had to stop production because of the pandemic. Sales have dropped, but it’s hard to tell the community to stop weaving.

Luckily, my children showed interest when they were young, just like how I did when I was a kid. I also teach kids how to weave every weekend through a school of living traditions. The children are encouraged to join and practice our cultural heritage. I believe that, through the youth, our culture can last forever.

I am worried that with the eagerness to innovate and the desire to modernize, we are somehow compromising those in the community who have dedicated their lives to handcrafting. I fear that in the future, we will care less about the value of good craftsmanship, and our cultural identity will only be found in history.

Culture changes through time because it adapts with every generation. There are some that we tend to forget, others that are already forgotten, and a few that we are now trying to change just to accommodate the demands of the modern world.

I hope future generations never stop weaving and learn to appreciate their cultural heritage. Through them, our cultural identity will live on.

---

Ifad Balud
Langkit Weaver, Marawi

Weaving has been part of my family for three generations. It first started with my grandmother, and my mother taught me how to weave when I was 12 years old. I want people to know that weaving is not something that anyone can do. It takes passion and years of practice for you to master it.

Our sales have decreased dramatically. We are fully aware that our products are not part of essential goods, and that people have lost their jobs which is why only those who could afford it would buy. Aside from that, the transportation of our products became harder because of travel restrictions from one city to another.

There’s so much beauty in weaving and I would love to pass it on to the following generations. As much as possible, it must be learned by a member of the family to keep the tradition alive. Tugaya, my hometown, is the origin of most M’ranao crafts.

Not everyone appreciates the beauty of woven products, but I hope that the weaving tradition will stay for many years.

What I love most about what I do is the fact that I contribute to the preservation of the M’ranao culture. I sell the products online and they are distributed to different parts of the Philippines and even around the world. That way, our culture is not only known nationally but internationally as well.

This journey may be hard, and not everyone recognizes the importance of preserving our culture. But as long as what you’re doing is for the M’ranao people, for your community, then you’re on the right track, and we should never stop.

---

If you’d like to learn more about these incredible artisan mothers or show support, you can contact them through HABI – The Philippine Textile Council or via email: [email protected]

Special thanks to Kelly Mortensen for making this feature possible and connecting us with these inspiring moms.

All photos courtesy of Likhang Habi