Miss Rosalee’s name is often mentioned as my mentor, everyone echoes. And it’s not without reason: she has imparted her craft to over a thousand individuals. Despite being a master herself, she attributes her wisdom to Miss Yoconda Cajiao, the person who initially introduced her to the Wildpine universe—an indigenous palm that serves as San Andrés’ signature material for crafting various woven items. Curiously, her journey didn’t begin with an inherent passion for craftsmanship. In her younger days, she spent her time peeling crabs for sale, a much sought-after product in Raizal cuisine. Crafting held no allure for her then, especially as she doesn’t recall possessing any extraordinary childhood talents in painting or crafting; she was preoccupied with assisting her mother in raising her numerous siblings.

She chuckles as she recounts how her entry into the world of craftsmanship was motivated by a desire to distance herself from a persistent friend named Mirta Toledo. Mirta was insistent on teaching her how to sew, envisioning a future where they’d spend their elderly days gossiping and sewing on the terrace. Her persistence eventually led Miss Rosalee to attend the course. Little did she know that she didn’t have to wait until old age to devote herself to this craft.

Weaving became a captivating challenge for her to solve, a pursuit she relished. Her motto evolved to encompass fulfilling others and herself. Displaying a small braided basket as an example of an initial trial, she cherishes it almost like an amulet. She recalls the formidable task it presented: intricate hemming causing considerable strain on her hands. Nonetheless, she persisted until achieving the expected result, triumphing over the challenge.

Her resolute determination doesn’t come as a surprise. Her mother, Erminda Archibold, embodies Raizal resistance in San Andrés—a woman who wears the island’s history etched into her very being. Miss Rosalee herself spent a significant portion of her life away from her island, from the age of 7 to 21. Following her stepfather’s seafaring footsteps, she lived a life that sailed from port to port, spanning Barranquilla, the Atrato River, and Cartagena. However, upon returning to San Andrés, she realized port affairs were no longer her calling, exchanging her boyfriend for an islander, she recalls humorously in her characteristic grace.

With the wisdom accrued over the years, she acknowledges the inability to sit idle, yet she’s embraced a slower pace of life. Many years were spent traveling between fairs while maintaining a steady production of baskets, cup holders, placemats, breadbaskets, fruit platters, pot holders, and vessels. This rhythm became familiar after a chance encounter with a woman who ended up buying her entire production after engaging in insightful conversations. She recognizes the unpredictability of clients’ arrivals and instructs her students to stay prepared. Without fail, she weaves during weekends, devoting around eight hours to prepare the Wildpine: cleaning the palm, removing thorns, and extracting green threads that, once woven, transition into beige and brown hues. With her inventive spirit, she has devised methods to preserve the threads, including freezing them.

In the present, she beams with pride knowing that her grandchildren—Joseph, Jim, Jilarry, Joachim, and Jacob—who remain close to her, eagerly partake in learning the craft of Wildpine. They assist in harvesting and cleaning the palm, already mastering the extraction of its fibers. Youngest among them, Jacob, holds the palm as the rightful heir, always by her side. Her world revolves around these children who joyously fill her days. With them, she feels the cycle is complete and is confident that her legacy will continue to explore this rich wisdom for generations to come.