Shuri-Ori Weaving

Shuri-Ori Weaving

This weather pattern of rain one day and glorious sunshine the next is odd, but we are trying to use it to our advantage. When the sun is shining we make it a day of discovery and photography. When the weather is wet and cold, we stay close to home and work on our various projects.

I suggest that we visit a Shuri-Ori Kohbo (weaving school) that I have heard about. This weaving school is below Shuri Castle in the same general area as Chuzan, a shop selling fine kimono fabrics and antique items. (We discovered the Chuzan store last April and I want to treat my senses to a second visit.)

Art plans our attack and we walk to the monorail and purchase three all day ride passes. I adore the “metros” of Paris and the “tubes” of London, and I am adding the Monorail of Naha to my list of “favorites.” The skyline of Naha is not pretty but I am growing use to the juxtaposition of the old red tile roofed houses dwarfed by multistory concrete apartment buildings. The spider web of electrical and telecommunication wires are mind-boggling and all the buildings are in desperate need of a painting. Priorities here are very different from home. We step onto the futuristic monorail and glide above the rooftops. We gaze down upon rooftop gardens and laundry hanging out to dry. The day is so clear we can see the Pacific Ocean glistening in the distance. We get off at the Gibo Station and with map in hand navigate in the direction of the weaving school.

Hunger strikes and we stop into a “Soba” noodle restaurant along the way. The restaurant is quite busy and has a new twist. A ticket vending machine sits just inside the entrance and you choose your entrée and pay for it at the vending machine. A ticket is issued to you and you present this to the waitress who in turn delivers it to the cook. We sit at the counter to watch the action. Huge cauldrons of water boil for the soba noodles, cooks chop and woks sizzle. Our meals are delivered shortly; not memorable, but adequate and very cheap.

Art navigates us several blocks further on, down a very steep hairpin road, to the weaving school. Naha is densely populated; the homes and apartment buildings crammed closely together, but around any corner you may come upon an ancient tomb or an undeveloped lot overgrown into a jungle. Below the road to the weaving school and spanning a small gully is a beautiful dense tangle of trees and vines. Rows of apartment buildings are just the other side of this small canyon but the jungle between is so dense that it would be virtually impassible.

The weaving school is small and the teacher is obviously surprised to have foreign visitors, but after removing our shoes and slipping into the plastic house slippers provided, we are invited into the classroom. There are 16 looms arranged grid like in the studio. Most of them are actively occupied by students who do their best to ignore us while they continue to slide shuttle between warp and woof. Art is intent on learning all that he can about the various styles of weaving and he bombards the instructor with questions. She leaves the room and returns with a dozen rolls of silk unwrapping each carefully, almost reverently and explaining the various techniques. A Kimono requires 13 meters of fabric. An average of 1/3 of a meter can be woven each day. By my calculations, this means that it takes 40 days of nonstop weaving, to make the cloth for one kimono. It is no wonder the rolls of silks and cottons that I have admired cost many thousands of dollars. My request to take photographs is denied.

We climb back up to the main street with intentions of continuing onto the Chuzan Shop but John is antsy and BEGS to go home. Initially he was somewhat interested in the weaving studio, but we stayed for an hour and the unrolling of the many bolts of fabric was painfully boring to him. We tell him he may go home and he balks. He wants us all to go home together, but John is 14, has an all day monorail pass and is in one of the safest cities on this planet. We give him some yen, one of our cell phones and point him back in the direction of the monorail. Both Art and I think that finding his own way home will be a good experience for him. Art and I trudge uphill in the direction of Shuri Castle and the Chuzan Shop. Even my feet are beginning to tire, but I am immediately revitalized when we enter this beautiful kimono shop. Alone, I would have been too intimidated to enter, but with Art I feel comfortable and I browse for close to an hour. This established shop offers traditional Okinawan luxury goods to the sophisticated and well funded shopper. It feels more like a gallery than a shop and I wish that I could afford one of the noren (fabric door curtains) that they have on display. A simple hemp bingata noren is $1,000. There is one with a dragon that I rather like, and another with an elaborate dyed floral pattern that is $2,500. After placing our shoes in cubby holes along side of the carpeted stairway, we proceed up to the second floor. The second floor has rolled silks displayed in glass cabinets, antique furniture and pottery. The third floor is my favorite and is actually a working studio. Skylights light this work space and low work tables are set along the floor. There are glass containers with natural plants used to make the dyes, brushes and brain coral stamps. This gallery/shop makes a unique line of clothing with stampings from the coral. Strung above our heads and along the pitch of the roof are miles and miles of woven and bingata fabric. All is breathtaking and I leave with many photographs but wish that I could take home the hemp dragon noren.

We call John on his cell phone and he has just made it home. He tells us that he got off at the wrong monorail station and had to walk some distance home, but he is now plugged into a computer game and is very happy. We are tired, but with our all day monorail pass in hand we decide to stop first at the Ryubo Department store to shop for groceries in their basement gourmet market-delicatessen. All of the department stores have a floor devoted to gourmet take home food. The selection is overwhelming and we wheel our miniature cart along the aisles and taste samples. John loves “ebi fry” (large batter fried shrimp.) We pick up several of these to bring back to him as a “Peace Offering” for having deserted him this afternoon; or did he desert us? We taste and gather a different kind of shrimp, scallops and steamed vegetables, hop back onto the monorail and return to our apartment. We eat a gourmet T.V. dinner.