A Surprise Textile Hunting Journey in Northern Argentina

It's 9:30PM in Buenos Aires and my flight, the one where I am to return to the United States, after two months in Southern Argentina, doesn't exist. I am standing at the check-in area of Ezeiza International Airport, holding two suitcases, looking at the flight info boards, realizing that the airport security attendant is not, in fact, lying to me. The flight doesn't exist?! After running breakneck, suitcases in tow, through the airport and attempting to get on either of the only other two flights leaving to the US tonight, I finally realize it's futile. Due to Covid restrictions on who can enter Argentina (only Citizens, Residents and their children), the airlines are canceling flights without a moments notice because they are empty or nearly empty leaving the US. Argentine's however, can still travel out of the country so every flight is completely booked solid or over-sold. Not only for tonight, I learn, but everyday after for the next 12 days!!!

With 12 additional days suddenly added to my Argentina stay I struggle with the idea that I could be trapped in a hotel room the entire time, in a city with an 8pm curfew and not a lot of friends or contacts to call on. I find a hotel and hunker down for a couple days and then decide, rather than heading South again to San Martín de los Andes, where my father lives, I am going to explore a region of the country I have never seen: Salta in Northern Argentina. I have grown up seeing and hearing about the beautiful deep-red dyed rugs, blankets, ponchos and fajas (pronounced fa-ha, an Argentine woven, narrow, traditional waist wrap worn by Gauchos) all from the Salta region. And I really want to get my hands on some.

I call up my father to tell him about my newly concocted plan, saying that I want to find more fajas to add to the tote bags I make for my small handmade label Made With Morehart, and explore a region I have never seen. I ask him if he would like to meet me and without the slightest hesitation he says yes. The next day I fly to Mendoza, which is a halfway point to Salta for my father to drive to from San Martín. Over 20 hours driving later, my father meets me in the fancy wine enclave Chacras de Coria outside of Mendoza. We're both pretty surprised at this unexpected adventure, but over lunch we decide our adventure has a purpose: we are going to pursue a shared passion and go on a traditional and indigenous woven textile hunt and that in every place we stop, we're going to seek out the makers of artisan woven goods and buy a collection first for ourselves, and then to sell.

What follows is 10 days of a wild adventure with many, many, many hours driving that takes us through countless micro climates: from verdant growing farmland, to arid plains, through Costa Rica-like cloud forests, to Peru-like high mountain towns, to the Altiplano region of Northern Argentina where the mountains are Himalayan-sized but there are cactus that make you feel like you're in Joshua Tree, California and bright red peppers being dried on rooftops that make you feel like you're in Santa Fe, New Mexico. At a particularly mind-blowing moment I was standing at over 10,000 feet, on the apex of a green mountain valley pass, with thin air and a brisk wind whipping around me with not one, not two but SIX condors circling overhead. To say the trip was life changing is an understatement.

It is from this journey that I became acquainted with artisans and tradesmen, non-profits and large industrial companies that are all working to support and promote indigenous artisans while working to insure the artisanal woven art form is not lost forever. One of the most surprising elements of the trip was to learn that it actually isn't as easy as I thought to find the textiles I have heard about for years. I did find the elusive deep-red colors in various woven pieces, but it wasn't overflowing out of every storefront like I had imagined. I learned that oftentimes the artisans either can't afford or can't access the wool to make their products. I learned that the average Argentine can't afford to pay more than a menial sum for the woven work, which can take many months to weave. And the average indigenous artisan does not have access to a broader global marketplace - and even more so without tourism in Covid-restricted times. Why would anyone continue weaving if they can't make a living with their craft?

It is from this journey that Patrona was born. It is my intention to first nurture, support and promote the traditional and indigenous artisans throughout the region by creating a global marketplace for their goods so that they can sell at a sustainable rate and continue with their craft. My second intention is to compensate the artisans in a fair and ethical way so that they may feel honored for their craft and able to support their families. My third intention is to bring these incomparable woven treasures to - you - to people who are equally as passionate about hand-spun, handwoven, hand-dyed goods, and supporting traditional artisans. Nurturing, soft animal derived wools from llamas and sheep, natural and earth pigment dyes, designs conjured from ancestral and sacred geometry - may you be as enthralled, grounded and inspired by these wovens as we at Patrona are.

"Patrona" in Castellano (Castilian), the Spanish dialect of Argentina, signifies feminine power, being connected to the earth/land, ranch ownership and of being in a position of honor and respect. To be a Patrona means to watch over and care for the people and animals that roam the land. It is a name that speaks deeply to my childhood spent in Argentina, of the reverence I have for the country and people who fascinate me without end. With the name Patrona, I aim to place traditional and indigenous artisans in positions of honor and to be the conduit to bringing more exposure to their art and their way of life.

At one point on the trip, my father, looking toward the endless road ahead of us as he drove our trusty Toyota Hylux truck along, said to me, "I don't know why this trip has happened yet, but I know there is a bigger reason." He was right and his words will stay with me. What started as a surprise, "bonus" stay, turned into a purpose and passion-driven adventure that has ignited a spark that we hope burns for years to come. Welcome to the beginning as the embers begin to grow.