It all began with some carved fruits and breads made from a local wood, known as pauche, that had no place to rest, and with a grandmother from Zapatoca who decided to weave a basket from a vine to carry her miniature carvings. She drew on the knowledge of her husband, who had learned to weave with this material years before. Ana Isabel Plata specialized in basketry and passed her craft, born from resourcefulness, to her son Gustavo after he returned home from military service having lost a leg. Gustavo would then pass it on to Alix Plata, the youngest of his nine children.

By the age of twelve, Alix was already able to make her own baskets. She had left school to help her father prepare the materials for the coffee bags, market baskets, and clothing baskets he sold at the Barranca market, long before plastic bags arrived. Although Don Gustavo lacked the temperament to teach her how to weave, clever Alix secretly stashed away some of the vine they gathered in the wild, practicing everything she saw her father do. Fortunately, she had the courage to learn without permission or formal instruction, which proved vital when her father fell ill and could no longer weave; she was already skilled enough to take over.

Just as synthetic sacks for coffee replaced the traditional fique bags in Santander, baskets made from the local vine also suffered when people stopped using them for shopping, opting instead for cheaper, lighter plastic bags. Resourceful like her grandmother, demanding like her father, and sweet yet strong in her own right, Alix took charge of the family business when sales dropped and later, when her father passed away. She continued to harvest vine from the same plants her family had used for over sixty years on nearby farms, where they were well known. Alix kept creating, crafting baskets, fans, and planters that served as a training ground for her celebrated “”mechuda”” lamps and “”nido”” lamps, stunning pieces that hang from the ceiling and elevate their material.

It was a long journey, navigating through more than twenty years until, now with her own family, she successfully established Embejucarte, the catchy name under which she showcases her work. When times got tough, Alix didn’t hesitate to sell fruit salads or run her own ice cream cart outside schools, all while gradually crafting her bright future—a future where she works alongside her children, weaving the prototypes her twelve-year-old grandson, a natural lover of vine, dreams up. Her story is one of perseverance and focus, a true blessing for everyone who knows her.