The Jaki Ed Program
There’s harmony and rhythm in a weavers’ circle;
a feeling of joy and togetherness: “A weaving circle
is where women are freer in their conversations and
interactions … there arelulls as they weave, but
more often there’s talking and singing. They discuss
‘manit’ (customs), their children’s education, how
people lived in the old days compared to the
modern-day breakdown…”
Brooke Abraham, a teacher at Rairok Elementary
School, is also an ethnographer and she is currently
researching the effect the practice of weaving has on a
community and its individuals. In explanation of her
task, she said: “Ethnography is about becoming a
participant in the groups of people. In contrast,
anthropology is about observing what is going on,
rather than becoming a part of the process.”
On Monday last week (editor: October 4, 2010),
Brooke joined a small group of expert weavers at
the University of the South Pacific’s (USP) Marshall
Islands Campus to take part in the University’s
ongoing ‘jaki-ed’ (special mat) program, the goal
of which is to rekindle the art of weaving and attempt
to reproduce the skills of a hundred years or more ago.
Weavers' conversations
“I was invited in 2007 to offer research assistance in the
first jaki-ed workshop and to learn how to weave myself,”
Brooke said.
Picking up the tale, the Director of USP, Dr. Irene Taafaki
said: “In the past few years, we (herself and community
leader Maria Fowler) have been seriously listening to
the conversations of the weavers and in the first workshop
we asked Brooke to first work with us. When we read her
notes we realized that weaving really is an important time
for Marshallese women.
“Later, when Brooke was teaching at Enewetak, she began to look see how the children from weaving families did
better at school than those who weren’t. We began to see weaving more than an a handicraft or a money-maker;
instead it’s at the heart of cultural survival itself. It’s a place where cultural knowledge is transmitted.”
Airine Keju of Mejit, Patsy Hermon of Namdrik, Susan Jieta of Mejit, Mela Kattil of Arno, and Terese Timothy of Ailinglaplap
and Ashkin Binet from Arno are the stars of the 2010 USP weaving workshop. “It’s a 10-day program, where we meet from
one to five, Monday to Friday,” Brooke said. “On the first day, we took some time looking at pictures of the old mats and
studying their designs and then they began making the central square. Next came the patterns, with some of the women
sticking closely to the designs in the photos, while others are taking them and adapting them with their own ideas and patterns.”
Three of the women have won first place in the last four annual jaki-ed exhibitions and auctions, which are held at the Marshall
Island Resort’s Melele Room. “But they didn’t really know each other,” Brooke, who is fluent in Marshallese, said.
Despite this, the ‘bonding’ “seemed pretty instant. They all act as if they’ve known each their entire life … and they’ve
pulled me in that same way.”
The research involves making an audio recording of the workshops as well as taking notes of the women’s conversations.
“I’ve had to learn new words for this, because they’re all from the Ratak Chain and I’ve only been in the Ralik and their
dialect is different. But, as a westerner, the more that I hear, the more I realize we’re parallel in our thinking. The women’s
conversations cover the same ground, such as health problems and cooking ideas. But each day is different: For example,
yesterday everyone was interested in their weaving and you read the mood, just like you would with your friends.”
All the workshop’s weavers began learning the art in their early teens. “Girls begin to weave when they are 13 to 16,”
Brooke said. “When they are younger they help out by cleaning up or handing materials to the weavers. But no-one
seems to feel that they were forced to be weavers and, in fact, two of the ladies taught themselves.”
Terese Timothy, who is 64 and lives in Airok, Ailinglaplap, is proud of the fact that her weaving pays for all her family’s
school fees and supplies, while one of Ashken’s four daughters had a jaki-ed in one of the annual auctions.
“When I first came to the Marshall Islands in 2006, I was a WorldTeach volunteer working on Wotho, where they do
lots of weaving,” Brooke said. “The island’s economy is built on ‘amimono’ (handicrafts) and copra and there they make
more money from the amimono. Mostly their sell ‘clam shell’ bags on Ebeye or to the US.”
In contrast, when Brooke moved the next year to Enewetak to teach, “there was hardly any weaving. When the Enewetak
people returned from Ujelang, they didn’t have the materials to do handicrafts. There was no pandanus because
they (the US) had stripped everything.” This was the result of a $110 million clean-up effort by Americans following
their dropping of 48 nuclear bombs on the atoll between 1948 and 1958. “A whole generation of people growing
up on Enewetak missed out on that knowledge. Fortunately, there are a few people who still know how to weave, but
mainly they make utilitarian mats and baskets for personal use.”
But, apparently, it’s not what they are making, but the fact that they are continuing one of the Marshalls’ oldest
arts: “One of the research’s main goals is to present how weaving helps the transmission of the culture."
