Inside the Walls

Suyai, meaning 'Hope' in the Mapuche language, perfectly intertwines the process of arm-knitting a blanket with the idea that we are masters of our lives and decisions. The Mapuches are an indigenous people from southern Chile and Argentina, renowned for their profound connection to the land and their rich cultural heritage

“Close your eyes,” began Gabriela, the director of Suyai. From a corner, I watched as the five women sitting in their chairs closed one eye and peered around with the other. Knowing their backgrounds, I was not surprised to see the flicker of distrust in their expressions as they engaged in the practice.

Once they had all arrived at the hall where the activity was taking place, we were able to chat a little and I got to learn more about these five women who were deprived of their liberty and who had come to learn how to arm-knit a blanket, without any previous knowledge about knitting.

Each held different hopes. Sasha, nervous and unsure about her ability to make a blanket, was more curious about the process. Ana, an elderly woman with some knitting experience, wanted to create a blanket for her grandson. Both were scheduled for release in a year and a half. Mari and Claudia were reserved about their expectations and who they would give the blanket to. Lastly, Lucía arrived, visibly upset due to conflicts with her cellmates. Feeling as though she couldn’t do anything and not wanting to be there, she was participating only for her mother. If she succeeded in making the blanket, she planned to give it to her as a gift.

“Close your eyes,'” Gabriela repeated. A bit reluctant, they all complied, letting her guide them through a mindfulness practice. Silently, I watched each one of the women cast their worries aside and gradually surrender to the present moment. It was touching to see how Gabriela placed the wool tops on their knees as they cradled it with their hands, while their eyes were still closed. Lucia, who had been the most reluctant to engage in the activity, began to cry. Meanwhile Ana, already familiar with the feel of wool, broke into a wide smile.

After the mindfulness practice ended, Gabriela congratulated them for choosing to spend time on themselves and learning something new. She thanked them for being present and explained how connecting with the present moment is key to a better, fuller, and happier life. She then asked them how they felt when they touched the wool. I expected them to say that the experience had taken them back to their childhood, to memories of their grandmothers knitting sweaters. Instead, they all described feeling at home, free, as if they were on the street, living life with their loved ones. “I pictured myself at home with my son,” Mari shared. “For a moment, I forgot where I was,” admitted Lucía. Even Claudia mentioned that she went from seeing everything in black to seeing colors. The symbolism in her words struck me.

It was a first attempt at arm-knitting for us all, me included, and I can only congratulate Gabriela for the ease and clarity with which she explained the method. Our hands were the needles and the way we positioned them, as well as our posture, was key to getting it right. Just as in life itself, as we began to knit the stitches and progressed through the process, it all looked like a tangled mess of wool with no purpose. “Trust the process; you're on the right track. In the end, you'll see what seems like a chaotic mess transform into a spectacular blanket”, said Gabriela.

She taught us helpful mantras to repeat in order to make the method easier and reminded us that if we made mistakes, we could always fix them, go back, and pick up where we left off. Finally, 'undo the old stitch, make a new one, and go over the old one'—the mantra for what is called the 'finishing blanket stitch'—became a powerful metaphor for life. I was amazed at how this simple goal of arm-knitting a blanket was transforming into an experience that touched so many important aspects of life. Everything took on a deeper meaning as these five women, confined in a prison, used their own hands to create something new, useful, and full of love from a simple ball of wool.

Sasha, initially doubtful, ended up being the first one to complete her blanket. Ana, Mari, and Claudia enjoyed the process at their own pace. Lucía, who often expressed her doubts about her abilities, completed her blanket with the support of the others. She felt proud and excited to have knitted it with her own hands and was eager to give it to her mother.

I was somehow scared when I first came in, fearing the unknown and not knowing what to expect. But during the process of arm-knitting the blankets, just like them during the mindfulness practice, I forgot my fears and simply enjoyed being in a sunny room, sharing with other women an activity that, for me, has always been linked to the warmth of grandmothers, mothers, and love.

A special thanks to Gabriela and Suyai for the work they do, for using a natural fiber that grows in our lands to bring hope to women who are locked away.

The word regenerative is everywhere these days, especially when talking about restoring land and agriculture. After this experience, I realised that we can also apply this concept to people too. Just as we strive to revitalise and restore the soil, we can work to help people overcome adversity and find new beginnings, transforming difficulties into opportunities. This parallel between land regeneration and human resilience reminds us to consider how we can foster growth and renewal within our communities.