For Yenis González, the pandemic was the perfect opportunity to grow the craft she had practiced since childhood: the enea palm weaving. She was fortunate to be contacted by clients who placed so many orders that she had to assemble a team. While she was already tying mats, making enea rope baskets on metal structures, and braiding reed into table placemats, it was during the pandemic that her group “El Progreso las Sanjuaneras” solidified, a team of 25 people whom she was able to employ and with whom she continues to work in community and family, as her husband and three daughters are also part of the group.

She refers to herself as a born artisan because from as far back as she can remember, she has lived next to the enea palm fibers. She was born into a family and a community centered around the production of mats made from the material that the fertile Tocagua Lagoon provides. Her father collected the palm from the lagoon or from the “jagüeyes,” those wells dug to collect rainwater on the farms, and her mother taught her six children how to handle it, eventually setting up their own loom, a frame made with four sticks for weaving mats with simple knots.

And although Yenis lived between the ages of nine and twenty-five in Cartagena, where her mother sent her to study, whenever she visited her family in the village, she would return to practicing what she had learned from a young age. Helping her mother with the mats during vacations ensured she didn’t lose the practice, so when she married a Sanjuanero and returned to her hometown, she resumed the craft as if she had never left it. Her husband was dedicated to cutting the enea, and Yenis learned the details that can only be learned through a life dedicated to craftsmanship. For example, that enea cut in summer comes out white and greenish, while that of winter is brown, which makes it so difficult to replicate a piece perfectly. She also learned that despite being an aquatic plant, enea crafts must be protected from water puddles, or they will rot. Being a material that can be cleaned and washed, if cared for, the enea of their baskets, puffs, lamps, fruit bowls, and trays lasts until one gets tired of it.

Now, spending her days weaving like spiders, and with a workshop and a team capable of covering production from welding iron structures to the final lacquer, Yenis knows that the trick has been to work patiently, with love and dedication. Patience because manual labor is an art that requires concentration and tranquility. Love because if one does not love what they are going to do, it will not turn out well. And dedication because without it, she would never have found the time for art. Driven by a deep love for her craft, Yenis and her family lead a dedicated life in which they rise early and weave the enea even in the evenings, when they sit down to watch television before the end of day.