Canistrumology (BASKET WEAVING. YES, BASKET WEAVING) with James C. Bamba

Oh, hey, it's your neighbor clipping his nails on the porch again. Ally Ward, let's venture across the sea. Let's talk about weaving, shall we? One thing I love is when you think an episode may have nothing to do with your life. And then before you know it, you're either obsessed with it or you have to pull over and contemplate the way you go about your whole existence. So, Gary, this is one of them.

So this ologist was brought to my attention by another ologist, the charming Corbett Thanatologist, Dr. Kaylee Swift, who joined us for an episode years ago on Crow funerals. And she is based on Tinian, which is a tiny island in the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands in the Pacific. She's doing bird work and truly living her best life. And she emailed me saying, you got to talk to this guy. He is one of the best basket weavers in all of the ocean.

And immediately, I found that at least one time in the literature, someone has used the word kenestromology from the Latin for wicker basket. So I'm in. Now, I thought wicker, by the way, was just a type of plant, but no, it just means something woven from plant reeds or fibers or sticks. But we're expanding on this ology to include the gorgeously

intricate work of, in this case, the Pacific Islands, which feature typically angular geometric and almost impossibly tidy methods of weaving. They can be all one color of grassy green, or they can be faded, golden,

or they may have patterns in darker colors or checkerboards. And this ologist makes traditional baskets for food, for chicken laying, for rice pouches, for coconut leaf fans and hats and fisherman's baskets and fine art figurines.

So can you make anything useful or museum worthy with only plants in your hands? Well, this guy can and he teaches college level courses on the methods and the cultural significance of making cool show with plants. So he's about to get you pumped for this with his silky voice and his chill vibe. But first, thank you to the patrons who submitted questions for this episode. You too can submit yours at patreon.com slash ologies and join that for just a scant dollar a month.

Thank you to everyone who leaves a review to as i read them all and they truly help the show stay in the top five or so science podcast out there so thank you to prove i read them all i thank you each week by reading one this one is from jillers who wrote do you like anything you love this.

This is my favorite podcast. They write, I inevitably go from, okay, I guess I'll learn about rats to, did you know, in my friends and family? Chillers, thank you for that. Thanks for being a glitter cannon of support. So on to the episode. This ologist has been at this craft for decades, learning the traditional Chamorro ways of his ancestors of the Mariana Islands.

Mariana Islands, side note, are in the western Pacific. They're close to the Philippines. They're kind of right under Japan on a map. They're far, far west of Hawaii, which is far, far west of the lower 48 states of America. So we'll get to his history, but he has recently moved to Oahu, Hawaii to complete his degree in botany at the University of Hawaii, Minoa. And we spoke from his new apartment there.

And later this week, I'll also bring you another native Islander botany episode in the form of a field trip. So keep your ears open for that. Now sink in for a deep look at different styles of teaching, weaving with invasive vines, how to know when a plant fiber is ready to make stuff with the anatomy of a coconut tree, how to look a gift basket in the mouth.

What you're really getting at import stores, the baskets that he cherishes the most, how to design with your mind, what he thinks about when he's weaving, the basket jokes he hates the most, the thorniest days on the job, changes in the environment, and when is learning another culture's craft appropriate or appropriation with world renowned basket weaver, artisan, mentor, educator, botanist, and kenestromologist, James Cruz-Bamba.

James, Bamba, he, and him. And you were on Luda or Rhoda for a while, but where are you originally from? Where were you born? Just a quick siren warning in this episode. It's us. It's not a cop behind you, probably, but we've cut around in this best we can. I am originally from the island of Guam or Guahan, as we call it in the indigenous language.

But I am born in the United Kingdom in Scotland. So an island or twice through, I suppose. What were your folks doing in Scotland? So like many people from the Mariana's Islands, my father was in the United States military. He served in the Navy. And it just so happened that he had got stationed there. And I was happy to be born there.

James says that as many military families do, they moved around a lot. And for a while, he lived on the Florida panhandle in a military town, even developing a little bit of a southern accent. At what part of your life did you start connecting more to your tomorrow history and your family's culture?

You know, that's a really good question because at a very young age, growing up in the South, I was one of only like four people, well, at that time I said brown people, but I think now we say people of color. And I would ask my mom why we look different, you know, because it's a majority white and black community down there. And so my mom said, you're Chamorro, and I go, what's that? And then she said, yes, we're called Chamorro, we're from Guam.

She explained that we had our own language so from an early age i would ask her how to say things in tomorrow to get a little frustrated because. English is my first language and it's weird hearing. This child who sounds southern try to speak tomorrow it's according to the elders the manamko it's a little painful. It hurts the ears they say.

But by mid-kindergarten, James and his family were back in the Mariana Islands and he ended up finishing high school there before starting college and eventually joining the military in the late 90s. Your weaving of baskets predates that by a couple of years. It's been almost 30 years for you. I understand that your uncle was the first to introduce you to this. And can you tell me a little bit about that discovery?

Oh, so the legend goes. Well, so the story goes is that it's a little bit sad, but my grandmother fell ill and she was taken to the hospital. While she was there, my uncle made her this coconut leaf basket and put fruits and vegetables in it as a get-well present, get-well gift. Somebody claimed that the basket

And so I never got to see that basket in particular, but my mom was telling me about it. And I was amazed and confused because we only saw those things really at like parties and during this thing we had called Chamorro Day. It's kind of like Asian Pacific Islander Heritage Month concept, except it was only a day back in the 90s. And so I talked to my mom about it and she said, oh, your uncle,

Pedro, you know, Capit made it for your grandma. And I said, where is it? And she goes, Oh, somebody took it. They wanted it. James said he got up the courage to approach his uncle Pete, who is a widow without any kids who lived in the next village over. So the teenage James asked Uncle Pedro to spend some time hanging out to teach him how to weave such beautiful baskets in the Chamara way. He was a shy kid. So this was kind of intimidating for James.

I imagine, you know, you're, let's see, 15 at the time. I imagine that for an elder who's been doing this for a while, it's got to be hard to keep up with how fast their hands are going, right? Well, that and the fact that in traditional Chamorro pedagogy, we don't, like, hand hold and spoon feed. We just do something and say, okay, you want to learn? Okay, watch.

Oh, and be quiet, by the way, don't talk. To first visit, he just told me to go and get coconut leaves. You know, bring material so I can teach you. He's not going to climb a tree for me. So, okay, fast forward. I went and got leaves. They were the wrong kind. He didn't say, James, this is the wrong type of coconut leaf. Go get X, Y, and Z. He said, that's wrong. That's all he said.

And then he said a word into more that I don't know because at that time, I wasn't yet really fluent in the language. I go home, tell my dad, he goes, oh, what word did he say? And so I put your that word and my dad laughs. And then I don't know if you're noticing a theme, but there's a very discouraging theme. But my dad goes, oh, he wants Binga.

Binga, and I go, what is a binga? And he goes, no, not binga. Binga. And I go, okay, what's a binga? And he goes, well, binga is the young leaf that's like yellowish green. He didn't want these ratty leaves that you picked. So this binga? No, not binga. Binga is a more soft and pliable leaf, and it's usually free of wind and insect damage. So James set off.

And I went and get this thing. It's a whole process. He looks at it and goes, you didn't tolerate it. And I go, what's a tala? And he goes, you don't know what tala is? And I go, no, I don't. And he goes, ha, you know, like with disappointment. And then he says, go put it in the sun for two hours and come back.

And so basically I went back after two hours and then this began my introduction into traditional Chamorro pedagogy and how we like to teach and the methodology that is employed by my people. And so basically he said, okay, I'm going to teach you. And then I said, okay, great. So then he

whips out this buck knife that I never knew he carried, and it was one of the larger, those ones that you see old men carrying, and he opened this folding buck knife, proceeded to weave a basket in like, I don't know, 10, 15 minutes, which to me felt like forever, and he was done, and he says, okay, so do you know how to do it now? I said, wait, you didn't teach me, you just wove one. I think that's called demonstrating.

And he goes, yeah, I showed you how to do it. He said, so go home and try. And if you can't do it, come back. And I went home and I tried and I didn't do it. And then I went back. And that was the beginning of my journey as a weaver or cultural practitioner from the Marianas. How long did it take you before you had any semblance of a basket?

I would say, you know, within a month or two of pestering my uncle Pedro and wasting coconut leaves day in and day out with these like horrible monstrosities. I actually ran into somebody who still had a basket from the mid to late 90s that I wove and gave to them. I told them to burn it or bury it.

put it in a lockbox in a Swiss bank and throw away the key and they go, why? This is your history. I was like, oh my gosh, I can only imagine what it looks like.

I feel like everyone who's ever made like a YouTube video probably feels that way also. Everyone cringes at their old poems, but that's growth and it's never as bad as you think. But, you know, I'm listening to you and this kind of harrowing way of learning. Is that part of the reason why you make such great tutorials online? I'm going to show you guys a couple of things.

that you can make on your own with palm leaves. I'm just making one real quick just to show you. Because your Instagram is full of these really detailed and compassionate and wonderful demonstrations and tutorials of how to do what you do. Does that factor in it all? Does your history factor in it all?

I think it does because, you know, being born overseas, existing and growing up in a predominantly white middle-class school system and then coming back to Guam and then adjusting to that culture and seeing how things are done there and then how Western

systems, view and execute education, right? And then how we do it, right? And I swear, there is a benefit to this PTSD inducing like generational trauma pedagogy of the Chamor people that really hones your observational skills. Like I will credit my people for their teaching methods that it really makes you

an observer and very observant and very particular about what you pay attention to and then i think you know you bring up the instagram on my i g page with my video tutorials so early on i started to try and bridge the gap between traditional tomorrow methods and western methods and i you know like documentation to wear a predominantly oral tradition in the marionis and the greater pacific right so.

I want this information because I've seen a decline in the number of weavers and we just don't have these things written down, right? And so this was one method of documentation that I thought at the time I was just doing it. I know that you work with a lot of panda and coconut leaves. Can you tell me a little bit about the materials that you use and do you ever stray from those two main plant sources?

Yeah, so I see you've done your research and or you have you have some spies. You're correct. It goes by many names in English, but I do use pandanus leaves. That's the main material that I love to work with. That's the one that I had learned just after coconut leaves and it really, you know, drew me in. I've dabbled a little bit with

bamboo. We have a history of weaving bamboo in the marionis as well. We have several finds that produce long aerial roots, kind of like banyan trees put down those long skinny roots. And I use those from time to time. And if I can manipulate it and I can try and make something with it, I'll try. But for the most part, I focus on

pandanus, which we call algek. So algek weaving is my focus. And then whenever somebody needs a coconut leaf basket, oh, you know, I'll go and get coconut leaves and weave whatever they need. And are a lot of these plants completely like native grown or do you have to cultivate them? Are they in decline?

I should know this because I'm a botany student, right? But even they don't know because these plants are kind of understudied on our side of the Pacific. So amongst the thousands of species of pandanus, we have

one particular named variety called Aggek. So Aggek, or pandanus, is a plant. It looks a little susian. It's got this thin, tall, brown trunk, maybe four meters high, with a sprout of spiky, re-like leaves at the top. It's kind of like a tall Joshua tree or a spikier fern on top of a pole.

And I'll get looks just like the other pandanus trees, except the leaves have this bluish green, I think in botany, they call it Galalcus coating on it, waxy coating, that makes them look like this bluish green color. And because pandanus is a diocese or the male flowers and the female flowers are on different plants. So effectively, one tree is male and the other is female.

So plants can have flowers that have male and female parts. It can have separate flowers that are male and others that are female on the same tree. Or the trees could be entirely male while another is entirely female. And one theory is that this strategy has evolved as a defense against insects that eat the plants, kind of keeps them guessing. And for more on why there is such a beautiful floral rainbow of sex and plants,

you can see the study plant sex and the evolution of plant defenses against herbivores. But for more on my humans, have variation in sexes and genders, you can see our great mega encore of neuroendocrinology, which we'll link in the show notes. But with the pandanus plant, which again looks like a mix between a palm tree and a spiky agave,

on a trunk. They've been cultivated on the islands for centuries by cutting off the plant at the crown of leaves where the trunk starts to become woody and then planting that during the rainier times. And while coconut trees and some other fiber plants grow in the wild, this type of pandanus is usually planted near people's homes or ranches. James tells me. But anyway, it's just going way deep into the pandanus growth

Now, when you go into a grocery store or literally anywhere with a basket, is your eye drawn to it and you say, that's a crappy basket or that's a machine woven basket or

That's a lazy one. What happens when you see baskets? Because I see it, I go, it's a basket. But you probably see things and can absolutely detect how they were made and what they were made of. What is your reaction to them?

I don't want to come off as sounding critical or judgmental. No, you could be a snob. If anyone I have ever talked to in my life can be a basket snob, James, it's going to be you. Oh, man. You're a free rein, licensed to be a basket bitch right now.

I will try not to be a basket bitch, but in all honesty, I seize baskets and I, you know, to be honest, I cringe sometimes when my friends buy these baskets. You know, Pier One has some cool stuff and like world market, you know, these furniture slash import stores, right, that are in the States. And so when I see them buy something, and then I like, and then I go,

And then sometimes they hear sometimes they don't like and it's so funny and they go whoa why i really like this one i said no it's nice you like that's all that matters you know five dollar bottle of wine.

thousand dollar bottle. If you like it, that's all that matters. I don't like it, but I didn't mean for you to hear that, but I don't like it. And so you asked about machine made or whatever. And I think what it is for me is that I have noticed and people of the Marianas and the greater Micronesian region and the Polynesian region, because those are most familiar with

We are guilty of this. That stamp or sticker on things from foreign countries has export quality. Export quality. I will tell you this, the shit they got on their country or island is way better, to be honest.

That's right, consumers. If you're not in the places the baskets are from, those export quality works probably suck so bad, and you don't even know it. Humiliating. How bad is it? It's like if you're pinky out sipping from a champagne flute, but you don't even realize it's actually Colt 45. Like, okay, give you a good example. Philippines exports a lot of pandanis weaving, even to Oahu, Guam, Tahiti, everywhere.

They have a really big industry. They export these things. And the weave is like an inch and a half across, you know, it's like these big leaves.

It probably took them like five minutes to make that decision. Oh, really? And they probably sold it for $0.10 American. And then America is probably charging you $40 at this boutique. Oh my god. I'm not trying to put anyone out of business in the States, but that's just how economies work, right? But I see things and some things I fall in love with at an Indonesian import store in the Bay Area when I used to live in Sacramento.

because i was in the military too and i got stationed in various places in the states and uh i went into this store and it looked oogee and fancy and i go oh man these are like tropical people let me go see what they got

So James rubbed his hands together like someone hungry for dinner after a long day. And then they had some really nicely made things that were from pandanus as well. And so I may have spent more money than I should have on that basket, but it was beautiful.

And it was well made and it's just because I do it myself, right? And then I see their attention to detail. It really catches my eye and really pulls me in. And then, you know, when my friends buy these like, you know, $15 baskets at supermarket, the person who made that didn't put their heart and soul into it, I think that's what separates the really nice things from the, you know, the things that, well, somebody else can buy it.

What types of things are woven from the smallest to the biggest items? I know that you've made everything from earrings to fishing baskets, but what types of things are woven?

So we have a wide range of woven items from containers like baskets, baskets with lids, shoulder bags. And these are pandanos, right? We have mats, sleeping mats, then we're coconut leaves. They make the fetching for roofs and then baskets and mats and wall coverings and fans and hats. The hats were more modern introduction.

but our western style hats with like brims and crowns, right? So a lot of functional things like use to shade the sun, keep out the rain, hold your stuff, curl up to go to sleep on. And while a lot of Pacific Islander plant fiber art is utilitarian, it doesn't have to be.

But the smallest things I've woven, which is non-standard, I guess, is like those miniature weaving that I did for an art exhibition in 2019, I had woven a bird, a grasshopper. Oh, and yeah, we make toys too, like little figures and stuff out of coconut leaves and pandanus. But they were all smaller than the diameter of a dime.

Oh my god. It could sit on a dime. They were woven with less than one or around one millimeter strips. Wow. That I had to split the object to and then weave them big around my

sausage fingers and just try and keep the form correct and then use a needle or like a toothpick type picking tool to kind of like feed it through and then tug on the loose ends, but without like crushing the weaving because it's so tiny. And the whole exhibit, it was kind of a plan where it's because Guam and the Marianas is in Micronesia. So I called it micro weaving.

Ah, our islands are small, but we're pretty badass. Agreed. That's the smallest they will win. What is happening design-wise in your brain when you're doing that? Do you just have a kind of an idea of it like a 3D modeling in your head and you're just trying to manipulate into shapes?

You know, you hit the nail on the head with that question because that's how I make new things. I look at it in my head and actually I got into a, I probably shouldn't be, I'm not gonna name drop. I'm just gonna say that somebody who I spent a considerable amount of time with and may or may not have lived together with this person would get on my case about not working.

When I had a project to weave, I don't think they realized that when I sit there staring at the wall or with my eyes closed, it's not me wasting time. I am constantly weaving in my mind for what people say, running the numbers. Some things need time to marinate.

Trying to see the most effective way without wasting material because you have to get the material. They don't sell it at Hobby Lobby, right? We don't sell it at Michaels. So I have to pick the leaves and I have to clean them if they need cleaning and process them if they need process. That is.

the most spiritual part, in my opinion, of weaving. You know, it's like you just sit there, you're in the zone, you're mind clears, and you're cleaning leaves, right? You're processing materials. But it's also the part I don't really like, because it's not the creation part. The creation part is what, you know,

What is that phrase I learned from an old man and say, tickles my fancy. Yeah. It's something that really keeps me doing it. I mean, if you didn't like something, you wouldn't be doing it for 30 years unless it pays your bills, you know, with that previous roommate of mine. I was like, you need to finish your project. I have to like.

Know what I'm gonna do first, you know, without wasting copious amounts of material, right? So yeah, so that's what happens. I think about it. I assemble it in my head like you had described and go from there.

And James has crafted these tiny sculptures of thin, thin strips of plant fiber, making geometric, but intricate shrimp and grasshoppers and scorpions, whose proportions are spot on, but they remain a little abstract in this angularity. And of course, the colors are fresh green, some have streaks of dry and yellow, but all the plant strips look impeccable and unblemished, and that is not by chance.

And when it comes to prepping the leaves, I know that there's probably a certain tenderness that you need and a greenness that you have to have to weave in a malleability. Does some of that come from soaking it in water or leaving it in the sun to wilt? Is there a really narrow time window that you can weave with?

So it depends on the material, coconut leaves, depending on which branch you take, because they kind of look like, you know, palm tree, right? And so the bottom leaves are mostly reserved for thatching and work baskets, because they're really stiff and they're hard to manipulate. They don't lend themselves over to fine weaving. And then the higher up leaves are more soft and supple and pliable. They easily worked, but

Again, they're not as structurally tough, right? So when it comes to weaving, upstairs, coconut leaves, or binja are softer and better for finer work. And the downstairs leaves are hardier and stiffer and better for structural functional things. But it also depends on how you treat them once they're harvested.

So it just depends, coconut leaves, if you pick the binga, the bane of my journey's beginning, the young leaf, and you wilt that in the sun, you have maybe two days to work with it if you keep it out of the sun after initially wilting it.

Green leaves from further down the tree last much longer off the tree and then pandanis, which is really nice. Algar is a very special cultivar. You pick the leaves when they die and they've turned brown on the tree. This is one way anyways. And you remove the horrendous thorns that grow on three sides of the leaves, the margins and the middle.

These thorns are no joke, man. I look them up and they're similar to the serrated shark teeth that are on the sides of aloe plants. So first, you have to contend with and remove those. And then you roll them up into these coils that are basically, if you imagine, like a belt that's rolled up onto itself, like a coil of that shape. And so these leaves,

If you picked them at noon when the sun is directly over you, you would think everything would be really hot and dry and brittle or crispy as we say in Chamorro English, but these leaves are still soft and supple. You can crumple them up and wrap them around your hand and they don't crack.

And that's why they're renowned in the greater Micronesian region and why they've exported plants to other islands. So there's no need for soaking or wetting the leaves that you basically just process them, store them in your house. And you have to put them in the sun every so often because it's so humid in the Marianas that if you leave the coiled leaves in your house, sometimes they get moldy.

When you store your leaves traditionally, you're supposed to put them in the sun like once a week. If you're not using them and then flip them over to, I think that the English word is like solar sterilized, they call it. That's basically what we're doing.

You know, it's funny, my husband does that with his jiu-jitsu things before he washes them. He takes his disgusting, sweaty jiu-jitsu stuff, puts it on the porch and lets it dry and then he throws it in the water. It makes a difference. This is actually more than just anecdotal. There's a paper coming out in the December issue of infection prevention in practice titled, evaluation of the antimicrobial effect of a far UV radiation lamp in a real life environment.

which reminds us that UV light has been used for over a century as a germicide. And high energy, short wavelength UVC light in particular is good at messing with the DNA of microbes, although sunshine can itself kill nasties.

There was a 2018 paper titled daylight exposure modulates bacterial communities associated with household dust in the journal microbiome, which notes that even letting more sunshine for your windows can reduce bacterial load and household dust. So when you're staring off into space, watching dust moats dancing in a beam of light, just know that they are in peril and you're the villain in their story. Speaking of letting your mind wander,

What are you thinking about when you're weaving? Are you listening to music? Are you just processing thoughts? Are you listening to a book on tape?

So basically I'm listening to ologies with Ellie Ward all day every day. Now I'm just kidding. Sorry. It's fine. So for the most part I have found over the many years, YouTube and Netflix and VCR tapes and DVDs are not good accompaniments for weaving. Not because I cannot weave without looking or something, but you

Make mistakes when you're distracted, right? Things that other people wouldn't see, but another weaver of similar skill will look, give you the look, look back at your thing, and then what's the word? Shortle. I'll be lying if I say we're not judgmental. You will be chortled upon by your weaving peers if you're sloppy.

So do you just kind of let your brain sit in silence and your thoughts wander? Yeah, sometimes I try to listen to music, but then I get like hung up on the meaning or the emotion or the mood of the music.

even with classical music too. So a lot of times when I'm weaving, I'm just sitting here, just weaving, and then take a break. I don't think I ever get burned out of weaving, but my body will disagree with me. Mentally, I'm like, I can go for 24 or 36 hours, but my arms and fingers slow down, bro.

Last week's episode was about exactly this. It was about burnout. And James is doing just what expert Dr. Candy Wiens recommends. He's taking breaks, he's getting a coffee or a snack when he needs to, and he's listening to his body as he works. Way to go. Doing it right.

Well, we had a question about that from listeners. Can I ask you some listener questions? We'll do kind of a lightning round. Amazing. Sure. First, we'll donate to a cause of his choosing. And this week, it's going to Segan Kodoran Chamaro, the Chamaro Cultural Center, which hosts Chamaro Artisans and cultural practitioners who wish to develop and exhibit their art form.

and those who wish to share and sharpen their skills in traditional methods of farming, cooking, and healing. And we'll link the Chamorro Cultural Center in the show notes. So thanks for the heads up on their great work, James, and thanks to sponsors who make that donation possible. Okay, let's get into the weeds with your questions.

I thought this was a great question. Adi Capello, Brianna Chatterton, Earl of Graham-Lacon, and eating dog hair for a living, in eating dog hairs words, asked, how many cuts on your fingers do you estimate you've had? And Adi Capello asked, do your fingers get sliced up a bunch?

So that generally only occurs during the pandanis leaf processing stage, which after almost 30 years of experience, I've minimized it to maybe five to 10 pricks of those giant thorns on the edges. But oh, my God, in the beginning. And my students, it's so fun because I have such a good, I have, I have a really good book surface. So I have approximately seven apprentices on other islands and one on Oahu.

Seven apprentices. And when we clean leaves together, it's always fun to hear that. And then I had a stupid leaf. You know, they get upset at the leaf and I said, okay, you know what the elders say.

If the Agai kisses you, it's a good leaf. And they go, I don't like these kind of kisses. And go, well, you know, it's just a nice way of saying if you get poked by the Agai, it's a good leaf. Which I think they just say that because you're undoubtedly going to get poked by the thorns, you know. I feel like every kid has heard their mom or dad in the garage building something with the exact same kind of word.

We've all, we've all heard it from somewhere. It just means you're making progress. A lot of people had questions about patterns. Ally B. Dave Brewer, Deanna, Mouse Paxton, Anthony Richards, Jacob Shepherd, Laylee Broton, and Cooper Michael asked, do the patterns tell stories in any way? And Ally B. wanted to know are baskets and other items made by a pattern like knitting or crochet?

So let's move to the first of the patterns with meaning. Unfortunately, the Marianas has a very storied history with the outside intervention and influence over the years and suppression of

knowledge. So although we still know how to do these patterns and still know how to weave and do certain indigenous technologies that benefited the colonizers like weaving and building and ship building was ceased. So inter islands

navigation was stamped out early on but hot building they really liked and basket weaving they really like farming are farming they really like so they allowed us to farm and really good fishermen right but the patterns that we weave

don't have deep significant meaning anymore. But this traditionally tied millennium old meaning is gone, unfortunately. And then the other question was regarding forms or patterns and weaving like knitting, right?

Yes and no so we use these wooden blocks that we've been making for thousands of years from local woods like we you know take a log and shape it into a cylinder or a box and we would weave around that and that's to reproduce the same thing and on that wooden block or in the weaver's head because we were

mostly rote memorization culture, you know, there's no writing back in the day, really. They would memorize how many strips it would take to weave that certain basket. And then later on, like, even I do it now where I will write, I call them my recipes. Other people say, it sounds better a formula. And I got in care. It's just some numbers and measurements of what I need to make this purse that people really like.

Okay, so how does he do it? Let's get to some behind the scenes fundamentals here. So when I come up with a new item that has a particular way of making it, I will usually make the strips as long as I possibly can, right? So they'll be long enough for the project, right? And then once I get all those information down in my head,

And when I start to do the final trimming or tucking, and then I measure the leaves one last time and I write it down, right? I think we used the word interchangeably design and pattern, right? So these like patterns on the actual weaving itself, they're very geometric and very mathematical. Something special studies course that I used to teach at the University of Guam. And so I would tell them that welcome to this

What do they call it now? They call it something fancy in academia.

I always tell them weaving is a holistic approach to being a jack of all trades and master of fun because you've got to know math, you've got to know meteorology for planting the plants, right? You've got to know a little bit about weather and then you've got to know about humidity and the manipulation of the material and then you've got to know agriculture so you can plant the plants, right? So like interdisciplinary studies? Oh yes, there's the work that they are saying.

Do you thought this was going to be an easy, peasy weaving class, easy A, but this is an interdisciplinary class that only one professor is teaching. It's me. Welcome to weaving 101.

It's a 300 level course. So going back to the pedagogy part or the teaching methodology, all of this was being done by my elders. It's just they didn't like, you know, make my feelings feel good and hold my hand and tell me, James,

This is a forty-five degree angle your basket looks like shit because it's at a eighty degree angle and there's holes in it because you didn't measure your strips properly. So that's how I bridge the gap I try to tell them that.

This weaving is supposed to be at a 45-degree angle. If you're too much or too little of an angle, you're going to have gaps and it won't hold the materials you want. Your water is going to seep out or whatever, and all these crazy things. James teaches a little differently than he learned, which is to say that he explains things because he wants this art in tradition to continue, but it's not easy to wrap your head around first. It's a whole lot to think about.

Well, you mentioned something about having gaps and a lot of people, the basic question, but Will Clark, Rachel Guthrie, Ariel Bell, Kelly Shaver, Lisa Brillard, and Adam Foote all wanted to know, how do you make them watertight? How does that work? So for coconut leaf weaving, you need to size your leaves. If you ever go to the tropics where they have coconut leaves, doesn't matter Caribbean, Pacific, right, doesn't matter.

and you see a coconut leaf weaver. Nine times out of 10, he's doing it because you're there, right? He's not doing it for himself, right? He's doing a demonstration. He's probably trying to sell you a coconut leaf hat or a power tube. He's going to weave that hat as fast as possible, right? To make money, right? Or to demonstrate because he's getting paid to do it by the hotel, right?

But the functional and good stuff requires more precision. But the more advanced weaving is like for coconut leaves that you make them all the same width. So natural materials are just that they grow as they grow and there's variation, right? So you got to get them as close as possible to each other. Then when you weave it, they're at a pretty close 45 degree angle and you have to weave it tight

And so while you're weaving it, you only weave a few inches at a time, let it wilt and dry out because it has moisture, right? And then the leaves shrink a little, then you re-tighten it, then you weave up further. And then at the end, you moisten the leaves just enough, because they're already dried, to make them pliable again, but not so moist that they expand from absorbing the water. And you close the basket as tightly as possible without breaking the leaves.

And then once the basket dries, you shouldn't see but just pin pricks of light through the basket. Coconut leaves, right? And most people don't think of coconut leaf baskets as being able to hold water. And then when the basket gets wet,

and it sucks up all the leaves. The leaves expand and close up those tiny gaps that are impossible to close up. This is part of nature. The basket swells up and I'm not saying it's like having a plastic bag, okay? But it can hold water for quite a long time. It's not like having a hydro flask or a canteen, right? It's like it can hold water.

James says it's not just the coconut leaves that can hold water. The pandanus leaves can as well with a slightly different technique. If you weave exceptionally well and exceptionally tightly, when the basket expands, the actual leaves, the material expands with the absorption of water, it swells up and tightens the weave even more. Oh. And so through this, I would call it,

basically through the ancient Chamorro peoples observations. I don't think they had a physics book and knew about capillary actions of leaves, but they knew that if they did it this way, it would hold water. And so some people, what they do is they double up the baskets so that it has a longer time to hold water.

The capillary action side note is how plants draw water up from their roots, kind of like pulling a chain of water molecules up from the bottom of the plant through the leaves. They're like, come on. We're going this way. We're thirsty. Does it shrink back? Is it reusable or is it a one-time only deal? Yes. It looks ugly as hell because it gets wrinkled, you know, the leaves expand it and then contract it. But it works many, many times.

Well, we had some people that asked about materials. And Emily Krieger says, stop it. I'm making dogbane cord right now, as I saw this post. I would love to hear more about best forged materials. Robbie Robbins said that they've been learning to weave with invasive species.

Oliver Callis asked if invasive species or vines such as kudzu could be used for basket weaving. Annika Mandelort, first time question asker, says for those of us without any easy access to fresh pendant leaves and says, half a die from Seattle. But still want to learn this style of weaving. What other materials would you recommend using if you don't have access to fresh pendant or coconut?

Okay, so foraging, invasive katsu, and other materials that can be used, right?

This will contain a little bit to the invasive species. Like, let's say I have this, like, thing, plant or tree or bush or shrub in my yard, and I'm trying to kill it, right? Because I don't want it there. But he says he could make something fun with prolifically growing vines, like the Japanese and Chinese native kudzu. It was introduced to the US 150 years ago as an ornamental and a potential snacky for livestock, but it has since blanketed the eastern US. It's kudzu's world. We're just living in it.

I have seen kudzu from a distance when I was down in the panhandle of Florida and it looks like kudzu produces very long vines. I think the reason for bringing it in was cattle fodder but it didn't work because American cows don't like kudzu apparently or something.

And then it became invasive. I bet it could be used because it produces very long materials. And so I guess transitioning into the question, apparently from one of my people, Afarai, from Oahu to Washington.

Half a day means hi or hello or hey in the Chamorro language. So half a day, Anika. The alternative materials that you could use is like those packing straps from like boxes, those plastic ones that are like half an inch, quarter inch and width. You know, if you can collect a bunch of those and try them out, they're really stiff though.

So these are called strapping bands or five millimeter PP, probably propylene plastic packing strips, if you are nasty. And our editor in Mercedes told me that she used to work a postal job and she took a little ball of this home once and says years later, her cat still loves to play with it.

And yes, I did find many a YouTube video with great beginner instructions. So you can check out the link on our website or just search for things like strapping weaving or packing strip weaving. But if you feel like your hands are too delicate to fumble with a stiff plastic, however,

And then I know that some people practice with ribbon. They'll go get like half inch wide nylon ribbon. They're a little bit stiffer stuff and then like cut them to length and then lay them out and weave baskets. I have an apprentice that went to school in the States and he was my student for like three or four years and he loves weaving.

He would go to his professor's office and then take all the paper from the shredder. And it would shred it in quarter-inch strips. It wasn't like top-secret material that was pulverized. It was just like long strips of paper. And he wove me a basket. I still have it. I still have it. Leonardo Orcini. He wove me this white paper basket.

I think he was a little bit like a mama like ashamed or, you know, worried that I wouldn't like it. And I still have it. Oh, it went with me from Guam to Luta. And then I brought it back from Luta to Guam. You know, some people see then go, Oh, would you get that the store? And I go, no, this don't touch that. That's precious. Yeah.

I hope he hears this. Two more questions. Robbie Robbins wants to know, how do you feel about non-Indigenous people learning traditional weaving techniques, and says I'm sure it's different for different cultures, but I hate the idea of losing this knowledge to time. This was also one of the minds of Eli the Fish Guy Mo, Dave Langlinnays, Preniprixley, Rachel Gardner, and Maya, who, as a white lady, asked, yes, my ancestors undoubtedly wove baskets, but not these baskets. These are not my baskets, but can I know these baskets?

And Rachel Pristeko wanted to know, yeah, how do you feel about non-Indigenous people learning the skill of basket weaving? Is it cultural appropriation or is there a way to learn, respectively, if this is not part of your culture? Oh, that's the million-dollar question. Right. Yeah. I get that question. I get that question asked me a lot here. Yeah. And then they wait for my validation.

James is really respected among his peers and among really good weavers and the greater indigenous arts and traditions community. So he's a good person to ask. Okay, I'm gonna tell you my opinion. I don't normally preface something with saying this is my official stance on something, but this is my official stance on something. If the practitioner accepts you as their student, I don't care where.

or what place, right? Let's say one of your viewers learns weaving from the small island of XYZ and the teacher taught your listener.

X, O, Z weaving, right? You know, all things considered. I would respect that because even if you were white, black, Chamorro, right? Because we're not from X, O, Z island. And the person learned and was taught by a person of that culture and was gifted that knowledge.

Who am I to challenge that practitioner who thought that person worthy of their knowledge? It wouldn't be intergenerational transmission, but that knowledge that was transmitted to that person, right? Like, I have no place to say that's wrong, right?

So if a Hawaiian or Chamorro teaches an outsider, that's, you know, they're prerogative, right? The community might say something different. They might say, why are you teaching the foreign colonizers or stuff? And then I go, well, I'm not the one teaching them your stuff. I'm teaching them my stuff. Step back, please, you know, like I've had to tell some

practitioners in other places, I won't name specific islands or states, say, why are you teaching this people? And I go, it's none of your business, why I'm teaching them. Stay in your lane. You're not my teacher. You're not the minister of Chamorro basket weaving. So it's no such thing anyways. But I have to remind some people, especially other Chamorros, right? Like Imanato Guam or Imanato Mariana's, right? Mariana's people.

Hey, this is not yours to control. So if you were so concerned about it, you would have learned it too so that I wouldn't have to rely on outsiders who are interested because apparently our people are not as interested in it as I think they should be, right? And so focusing back in on myself, these knowledge that I share, especially on Instagram, so some people say, oh God, I can't believe you put it on Instagram. Actually,

99.99% of the feedback I've gotten about my Instagram posts from Chamorros and non-Chamorros alike. Everybody's so appreciative. I've actually had people from Hawaii who, this is just between you and the million people that listen to your radio show, that

Hawaiian people are very proud. They're very proud of their culture, which is great. But I've actually had Hawaiians reach out to me because they found somehow my videos on Instagram and they were able to reintroduce weaving into their families because for some reason,

In the 60s and 70s, nobody was interested in learning. And they would tell me these really heartwarming stories where they have learned from me. And they didn't want to tell me that they were learning from me yet until they got better, because they didn't want to disappoint me. And I was like, oh, don't worry. I have seven of my own disappointments. I have apprentices, don't worry. And for me personally, if I am approached by, I don't care if you're white, black,

brown, purple, green. It doesn't matter, I suppose. I think it's your intentions. What are your intentions? I'm not saying don't sell weaving, right? Or whatever. I mean, like, are you coming to learn because you want to learn? Or are you just coming because it's trendy and you're not really going to focus and you're going to waste my time? Like I've had students from the Marianas who

tell me they want to learn. And it's just because right now cultural renaissance is happening and everyone's trendy to be tomorrow. And I want to learn the language, but I'm not going to do it well. And I want to learn weaving, but my weaving is going to look like something. Signo Bamba will vomit in their mouth a little later on.

But to answer those questions about cultural appropriation or whatnot, in my opinion, in my stance, if you were to learn weaving or whatever cultural practice that is allowable to be taught, like there are some things that Chamorro's will not teach outsiders. They will not teach.

Even if you ask, let's say some of these spiritual healers, right? Some do herbal medicine, some do massage, some do spiritual intervention, I guess is what you can call it for the ancestral spirits. The people that do the ancestral spirit work or intervention, or I like to call it also arbitration.

outsiders. I'm pretty sure they won't because that is something that's only passed down. Maybe times are changing, you know, just like weaving. Weaving was reserved for family, you know, intergenerational transmission between grandparents and parents and then children and then grandchildren like that.

Time's changed. Maybe in 10, 15 years, some person that's not tomorrow is going to go to a tomorrow partition and be like, teach me your spiritual intervention training. And then they'll be like, sure. Yeah, the first person that's interested in like 10 years, yeah, sure. Come on in.

And this next one about tomorrow's baskets was asked by Robin Stumbo, Anthro curator Kelly Shaver. And well, looking into the future, Susan Garris says, thank you for this topic. I come from a tribe known for our basket making. And I would like to hear about plant stewardship and climate change. Our impacts from changing climate affecting weaving in your region is anything being done to mitigate it. And I know that you're a botany student now.

Last listener question, maybe a little bit of a bummer, but climate change, how is it affecting that? Oh, this is actually a hot topic right now. Climate change and how it affects cultural practices across the wide gamut of disciplines, right? It's not just weaving or herbal medicine, but it's also fisheries, traditional fisheries, rain and everything.

So traditionally, I'll get in coconut leaves that are used for weaving come from the coastline, just because of airflow and sunlight and both plants can tolerate brackish water, salty water, like make sure of salt and fresh water, right? They have been grown there because of the access to full sun, because if you plant them in the jungle, they don't get the barrage of solar rays that make the leaves stronger and more durable, but

Anyways, the rising tides are shrinking some coastlines or enveloping some islands at that, right? And so it's definitely of great concern. The last part of the question, what are we doing? Well,

To be honest, I am not doing that much myself other than telling people my observations from my conservation work in the jungle in the Marianas. And hopefully me like tapping the shoulders of my ecology friends and biology friends who are in those circles, keep telling them what I'm seeing and what is being affected and what trends are being noticed with certain plants.

new observations of insects moving into areas that they're not in normally. Invasive species that are encroaching into native forests because of these changes in the shift of the rainy season, the monsoon season and everything. Definitely I am alerting people to that and I think it's a major concern for practitioners who utilize these wild non-timber forest products to make their creations and

Maybe soon we'll be able to design some studies and figure out why they're declining, but until then we're noticing that they're declining.

And I imagine that's got to be one difficult thing about what you do. Listen, a mission of ours is to debunk flim flam and clear up matters of ignorance. So I'm asking this next one for myself and for listeners, Josh Fry, RJ Deutsch, Annette Frawine, Ted Hamilton, Melanie Yakimovic, Erin Everton, Lena Carpenter, Baz Pugmire, Mark Rubin, Sugarpuff Daddykins, Curtis Takahashi, and Kelly Shaver. And they all asked a mix of questions about the same topic. Some wondering if it was a real thing.

and others wondering how James handles questions about it. So in first time question, ask her Kelly McConnell's words. I went to U Miami, go canes. I had to look it up. That's the hurricanes where we are said to major in underwater basket weaving. It seems insulting to actual basket weavers, right? Does the underwater add anything there? Where did that come from? So let's ask a smart person, a not smart question to clear this up once and for all.

And I always ask the hardest part about what you do and the best, but the hardest part, I feel like one thing must just be all the people who ask about underwater basket weaving. Yeah. Okay. Is that the final question? I mean, is that the full question? No, I'm wondering if that's the worst part about what you do or if there's something else.

Okay, I thought you were asking and I was like, oh, I thought this was a world renowned. No, exactly. There are people who I'm sure that gets brought up all the time. And don't worry, we will not ask whether or not that is something that you do. I was thinking that's got to be the hardest thing about what you do.

So yeah, yeah, it is. They say, oh, did you learn that in underwater basket weaving at college? You know, stuff like that. Yeah, it is definitely, you know, to piggyback on this as stars. It is the worst. Before I left Rhoda, I was going to go on one last dive with the dive master because she's my neighbor. But I wanted to bring coconut leaves under

With me i wish i had done it but i ran out of time and she was for it she was like i heard that that's famous in america's like no it's not a thing no it's not a thing like under what a basket we use not a thing yes it's not a thing well it's crazy i heard that there is a college that does it now they wear scuba gear and they gonna pull and they weave baskets.

Underwater basket weaving courses in college made the rounds in comedy acts in the 1960s as something that would be an easy A. Not only does it not exist, but honestly, it takes years to perfect techniques of indigenous craft. It is not a college major, nor is it a part of James's life. That's not what I do. But anything else, any other flim flamied Wanda Buster, anything else that's really difficult about what you do?

So a lot of these questions that have been asked by your listening audience were really good. And so I think the hardest one is when people have an outside in knowledge of this craft or skill and they truly don't know, they will tell me that I'm doing it wrong.

And I have to remind them that this is what my family taught me, and this is what friends of my family taught me. And then whenever I get these people, whether they're not there, Chamorro, Filipino, or even some people from other islands, have a couple white people do it too. And they'll say, I can do that. Why is that basket $30? The leaves are free. And then I go home and another person, I go,

Well here, here's a French coconut leaves. We've won and I'll pay you $30 to take it home. And then they look at me and because I know the person that says that, they just trying to get a discount. Like, don't rush me with the reasons why my basket shouldn't cost $20 or $500. Don't tell me it's easy or your grandma used to do it. Well, more power to your grandma, she still does it. Oh, that makes me so mad for you.

I will say with the clear conscience, this is something I hate. I usually say it's a pet peeve or I dislike it, but that I hate. What about your favorite thing about weaving?

So I guess it's a two part thing. I love creating new things, but I think for me, one of the best parts is when I'm sitting there with a student or a workshop attendee or an apprentice of mine and when they learn something and excel at it and then take that knowledge and manipulate it.

in their way, because I don't teach it. If you're one of my students, I wouldn't say, OK, today, we're going to make a purse. Or today, we're going to make a pocket protector. It's when my students have that click, and they too see the trees from the forest, so to speak, or the individual strips from the final product, and how those things are interacting with each other to form that

thing that that woven item, it really makes me feel accomplished, because I'm this stoic, angry, tomorrow, teacher. I don't let them know my emotions. Now that's not true. I really, I really want them to know that that is like my proudest moment. This one, I see them.

doing things that for lack of a better word, endangered now, you know, a lack of people doing it. That's like my proudest, like, happiest. The thing I love the most is seeing others succeed in this thing that I love so much, yeah. I love that you're sharing it and that it's available for people to marvel at and to learn and just to appreciate from however far they might be. I mean, keep on doing what you're doing.

Yeah, thank you. I am grateful that, you know, we have. So ask talented people tons of questions about what they love because that's how you learn things. James, thank you for asking your aunt and your uncle Pedro about baskets and sharing what you know with us.

And please enjoy more of James's work and his teachings on his Instagram, Kenyan Guahan, which will link in the show notes, as well as a link to our website for more studies and resources about this ology. Now, we may not have covered your local materials or customs in weaving, but let this episode just inspire you to seek out basket making or plant weaving or whatever, put a little lightning of excitement in your belly about this. Do it for James.

Now, thank you, Dr. Kaylee Swift of the Corvid Sanitology episode about crow funerals who introduced us will link her episode in the show notes as well. And we're at ologies on Instagram and now blue sky. So find us there. I'm at Ali Word on both. We also have Smolgies episodes that are kids safe and classroom friendly. And we have peeled them off into their own feed. It's linked in the show notes or you can just search Smolgies as M-O-L-O-G-I-E-S, wherever you get podcasts. You can subscribe there.

We have ologies merch at ologiesmerch.com. You can join Patreon and ask questions before we record at patreon.com slash ologies. Thank you patrons for making this show happen since day one, seven years ago. Erin Talbert, I've known since we were four and happy birthday to her Lily Vanilly today.

Aaron Admanciology's podcast Facebook group, Aveline Malick makes our professional transcripts, Kelly Arduyer does the website, our scheduling producer is Noel Dilworth, Susan Hale is managing director and keeps things watertight, editor Jake Chafee processes out all our thorns, and lead editor weaving all the snippets together is Mercedes-Maitland of Maitland Audio. Nick Thorburn made the theme music, and if you stick around until the end of the episode, I tell you a secret. And this week, it's that I write the things I have to do, or sometimes the asides that I have to research and write up.

I number them, and I put them on little slips, and then I put them in a cup, and I draw them out, and I have to do whatever is on the slip of paper. I cannot procrastinate or put that one off. If it's on the slip of paper, that's what I have to do. But remember, take breaks, maybe go pick something invasive, make a fruit bowl, you deserve it. I think you can do it. Okay, bye-bye. Pack a dermatology, mommyology, or dozoology, litology.

I went to Barbados with my husband. We were hats out of palm fronds. I've never been happier.