Knitting with Llama Wool: A Journey Through the Highlands of Argentina and Bolivia following the Trail of Sayama

By Claudia Ostrop / Paul Pascuali

Those who know our blog are aware that for Paul Pascuali, it's not enough to simply offer beautiful and high-quality yarns. It is absolutely essential for him that “his” yarns can always be knitted with a clear conscience: animal welfare, environmental protection, and genuinely fair treatment of everyone involved in the production process are of utmost priority.

Thus, it goes without saying that he regularly visits the farms and spinning mills. Recently, he traveled to Argentina and Bolivia: read on!

The trip was prompted by one of Pascuali's newest yarns: Sayama, a blend of 50% llama wool and 50% sheep wool from Bolivia.

Llama hair is challenging to process. It consists of fine undercoat and relatively stiff guard hair. If the latter is not completely removed before spinning, the wool is not particularly soft. Does anyone remember grandmother's good coat or her wool blanket made from llama hair? Both were quite scratchy, weren’t they? But it doesn't have to be that way!

The trip in search of llamas began in northern Argentina, specifically in the province of Jujuy at the border with Chile and Bolivia.

Here, at about 7,874 feet (approximately 2,400 meters) above sea level, llamas are quite common – they roam freely and are virtually part of the scenery. The actual farms are located in the highlands. The high plateau “La Puna” lies at around 13,123 feet (approximately 4,000 meters). The landscape is barren yet incredibly diverse. With its volcanoes, stony deserts, cacti, dunes, and salt lakes, it is truly fascinating. One can also spot wild vicuñas here and, with a bit of luck, even guanacos. 

 

Paul's destination was the llama farms. “The people there are incredibly poor. For simple llama wool, farmers receive far less than what it costs to shear the animals.” Therefore, llamas are primarily kept as pack animals and for meat production. “We want to help the people to keep llamas for wool as well – after all, a single animal can contribute to their livelihood much longer and more sustainably than if it is slaughtered after a year.”

So, the group – Paul traveled with his family and some friends – set off with pickups on the not entirely simple journey. The first stop was the city of Abra Pampa, where Paul met with representatives from INTA, a research institution that advocates for environmental conservation and promotes increased production of llama wool.

After a total of nine hours of driving on the first day, they arrived at around 13,123 feet (approximately 4,000 meters) above sea level. Here, some of the travelers struggled with altitude sickness: as air pressure decreases with altitude, the availability of oxygen also drops. Fortunately, no one was seriously affected. By the way, the low oxygen levels can even be felt while driving: you have to press the gas pedal harder to keep going. During the long ride, the area felt deserted: Paul's group encountered exactly two other cars! There was no internet signal, so the car navigation systems didn’t work either. But there were enough “map readers” in the group, along with Paul's Argentine cousin, who knew enough about the area to safely guide them to Cusi Cusi. The area around the small village is called “Valle de la Luna” or “Moon Valley” – and the description is truly fitting. The landscape is both surreal and beautiful. When the travelers arrived in the evening, it was dark. “It was really pitch black – you couldn't see anything! But what a sky! You could see the Milky Way with the naked eye!” Paul recounts enthusiastically.

Not only was it very dark, but it was also very cold: while the daytime temperatures were around 68 degrees Fahrenheit (approximately 20 degrees Celsius), they dropped to a brisk 39 degrees Fahrenheit (approximately 4 degrees Celsius) at night. “I was pretty glad to have my thick Cashmere Charis sweater with me. Super warm and cozy!” he raves about his Northland Sweater from Petite Knit. 

From Cusi Cusi, they continued the next morning to Santa Catalina at the border with Bolivia. At 13,123 feet (approximately 4,000 meters), countless llamas can also be found here. The animals roam freely, accompanied and led by a shepherd. The llamas belong to different farmers: the shepherd picks up the animals in the morning, wanders around with them to graze, and returns them to their owners in the evening. In Santa Catalina, Paul spoke with the head of a cooperative committed to producing pure-colored llama wool: since the herds usually consist of llamas of various colors (white, beige, brown, black), the wool is virtually un-dyeable and therefore only somewhat marketable. The plan is to allow pure-colored herds to obtain wool that doesn't just have a random shade. This project is now in its initial stages. We are curious to see how it develops!

Many people in the region currently make a living through pottery. “They are dirt poor, but they aren't even aware of it. They receive about 30 cents for a clay pot from a trader, which is then sold for about seven euros. They really need help,” says Paul. He wants to ensure that people can keep more of their earnings and that the children can go to school. “They are satisfied; they mainly subsist on tea and bread. But it's unfair. They could be doing better.” Perhaps high-quality llama hair is a good way to achieve some prosperity.

From Santa Catalina, they continued on to La Quiaca, the northernmost city in Argentina, located directly at the border with Bolivia. Here, the pickups were returned: the journey continued by bus to La Paz, Bolivia. “The ride was a bit adventurous! It was a very good travel bus, and we could recline the seats to sleep. However, the roads are extremely winding and narrow, and many drivers are drunk and driving without lights – so we preferred not to drive ourselves!” Paul describes this part of the journey. “The kids slept well during the night ride, but the constant honking and swaying kept us adults a bit on edge. Honestly, it was quite stressful!”

La Paz is the highest capital city in the world. The travelers were recommended coca tea to fight altitude sickness. “It really helped,” Paul chuckles. “Of course, it doesn't have the strength or is anything close to cocaine!”

The destination here was the spinning mill in El Alto, which produces the Sayama yarn for Pascuali. The owner has constructed a very special carding machine that perfectly separates the undercoat from the guard hair of the llamas. “It's so special that even we weren't allowed to see it. A real trade secret!”

At the spinning mill, Sayama is produced entirely from raw fiber to finished yarn. The llama hair comes from small Bolivian farms. The sheep wool content of Sayama also originates from Bolivia.

The production is very sustainable: for example, the washing water is collected and filtered for reuse. The sludge created from washing the fiber is used as fertilizer. Finally, dyeing also takes place here. Until a few years ago, the spinning mill only sold llama tops. Since COVID-19, they have also started producing yarns and even finished knitted goods for international companies.

In addition to mainly white fibers, brown and beige fibers are also used for Sayama – resulting in a beautifully lively color play, comparable to Pascuali's Balayage.

The name Sayama is derived from Mount Sajama, the highest peak in Bolivia. Naturally, Paul and his fellow travelers wanted to see the mountain up close. However, on the way there, the road was closed: a taxi drivers strike made further travel impossible. Since there are virtually no hotels in the area, they had to give up after a few hours without success and turn back.

“Well, we'll just have to try again next time!” Paul concludes.

We hope this “postcard” from Argentina and Bolivia brought you some joy and perhaps even inspired you to try Sayama? We would be very pleased!