The land that feeds us
The eternal cycle of coyuche cotton in San Juan Colorado, where the life and legacy of yesterday's weavers nourish the plants that their granddaughters will one day harvest.
Retrato de Verónica Lorenzo Quiroz en San Juan Colorado, Oaxaca (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
Where cotton is born in five colors
Verónica Lorenzo Quiroz, 45, a Mixtec weaver from San Juan Colorado, Oaxaca, holds five tufts of cotton: white, tan, green, red, and brown coyuche. None are dyed. "This is how they come from the earth," she explains in Spanish, which she learned at age 15. She has been weaving for 37 years.
Brote de algodón en San Juan Colorado, Oaxaca (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
The calendar that changed with the weather
Traditionally, cotton was planted after Day of the Dead, when the rains ended. Now, families in San Juan Colorado plant in August because the rains end earlier due to climate change.
Brote de algodón en San Juan Colorado, Oaxaca (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
The harvest that takes a full year
The entire planting process takes a full year. From clearing the land and sowing the seeds to weeding every month and monitoring the bolls for pests. Then come two harvests: the first large bolls and then the smaller ones.
Retrato de las artesanas del Colectivo Tejedoras de Vidas y Sueños trabajando el algodón coyuchi (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
Seed by seed
It takes a week to clean an entire load of cotton. Each seed is tiny, and the cotton must be separated and fluffed at the same time. The weavers' hands work while their minds enter an almost meditative state. There are no machines for this: it's hours of silent labor.
Retrato de Aleogría Lorenzo Quiroz preparando el algodón coyuchi (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
The lost sound of the beating
Then, the artisans, like their ancestors, beat the cotton with a rhythm that still resonates with the hands of their grandparents. That sound once filled every house; today, only a few families keep alive what was once the pulse of the village.
Detalle del hilado de algodón coyuchi en un malacate (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
Mangrove spindle and masa atole
The spindle comes from the coastal mangrove, a sea wood used to work cotton from the land. After creating 30 to 40 ounces of yarn, comes the warp: 700 turns, three and a half meters. Then the starching: passing the threads through a corn dough solution to strengthen them.
Retrato de Alegoría Lorenzo Quiroz en el proceso de urdimbre de algodón coyuchi (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
Backstrap loom: three months of work
Strapped to the weaver's waist, the loom grows with two wefts: one for the base, another for brocading designs. Without needles or embroidery, a discontinuous technique allows the designs to float. A quality huipil requires three months of daily work.
Retrato de las artesanas del Colectivo Tejedoras de Vidas y Sueños (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
Huipiles that last 60 years
"They're meant to be inherited," Verónica explains, showing off her huipil. A well-made garment lasts 60 or 70 years, passed down from mother to daughter, from grandmother to granddaughter.
Zenaida Tapia Nicolás trabajando el telar de cintura en San Juan Colorado, Oaxaca (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
The return to Mother Earth
When a huipil finally wears out after decades, it isn't thrown away: it's buried. The organic cotton decomposes and becomes compost. "The earth welcomes it because it is part of her," says Verónica.
"The earth feeds us, then we feed the earth. Many of my companions are already spirit, the soul of what we harvest": Verónica Lorenzo Quiroz
Retrato de Alegoría Lorenzo Quiroz en el proceso de preparación de algodón coyuchi (2025-10-12) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
The circle without beginning or end
The weavers who died decades ago now nourish the coyuchi cotton plants. Their hands are gone, but their work continues to feed the land that produces the cotton their granddaughters will weave. In San Juan Colorado, death doesn't stop the weaving: it gives it life.
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