by Keiko Kojima
In 1967, I came to Guatemala
to work as a secretary at the
Japanese Embassy. Two years
later, I met a Japanese man who
was studying the indigenous weaving
techniques and dress from
Guatemala. This man, who became
my husband, introduced me to the
wonderful world of the Mayan tradition
and history of this country.
One day, when he returned from
one of his research trips in the
western part of the country, he
brought me a half-woven backstrap
loom. He gave me some advice
on its handling. This loom, from Santiago
Atitlán, primitive and quite simple, was my
first encounter with this type of instrument.
Since then, I have been working constantly
with some kind of loom. I now use one that
I have created, which has some of the versatility
of the backstrap loom and the speed of
the foot loom. For my textile creations I use
threads that I hand-spin with cotton fibers
from a plant in my garden. Sometimes, I use
colored threads, which my husband obtains
from animals and plants.

The backstrap loom captivated me for several
reasons. It does not take much room
and I can easily carry it. It is inexpensive
since weaving only requires a few wood
sticks and a bunch of threads. The act of
weaving, as is the case with other manual
arts, satisfies the urge to create. From the
process of transforming a thread into a
piece of fabric, emerges the satisfaction of
making an insignificant line become a solid
and tangible plane, whereby a new reality is brought into life. The backstrap
loom is one of mankind’s most
primitive forms to weave and,
surely, my ancestors who lived
many years ago in Japan, wove in
the same fashion. Thus, the act of
weaving, of sitting in front of my
loom, arouses a feeling of security
and peace. The most extraordinary
feature of the backstrap loom is its
incredible versatility, allowing one
to weave an infinite variety of fabrics
with simple techniques.
Since I have been weaving on the
backstrap loom for a long time,
and naturally due to my age, I started to
feel pain in my waist. It got to the point
that I had to stop weaving for a while. This
made me look for an alternative loom that
would have some of the versatility of the
backstrap loom but not create any pain.
After searching but finding nothing to
satisfy me, I decided to make one by hand,
with a saw and a hammer. Thus, my new
loom was born. It is extremely simple but
it is a combination of the backstrap and the
foot loom. And although it is still not as
versatile as I wanted, at the moment, it has
allowed me to continue expressing myself
through the art of weaving.
If, someday, my weavings are shown as
a blending of traditional techniques used
by Guatemalans with Eastern sensitivity, I
would feel a great satisfaction. This would
mean to me that I helped by putting a
grain of sand to build, especially in terms
of culture, a relationship of brotherhood
between Guatemala and Japan. •