Puruhá Symbols on Guano Rugs: A Semiotic Approach to Cultural Continuity

Abstract

The town of Guano, located in the province of Chimborazo, Ecuador, is a canton renowned for its concentration of cultural expressions related to traditional artisanal techniques, such as the production of garments and leather goods, tanning, textile weaving, products made from cabuya or totora reeds, and knotted rugs. These artisanal practices are embedded in a long-standing historical and symbolic framework, linked to processes of cultural transmission and identity reinterpretation. Furthermore, Guano has been a pivotal site in Ecuadorian archaeological history thanks to the studies of Jacinto Jijón y Caamaño (1927), who identified six cultural phases of the Puruhá culture through ceramic and stratigraphic analysis. The province has earned recognition as the “Cradle of Ecuadorian Nationality” due to its valuable archaeological heritage. However, much of the interpretation of this legacy has been constructed from colonial-era archaeological approaches, which have limited the understanding of the Puruhá worldview and generated interpretive shifts in the cultural attribution of its iconography. This research analyzes, from a semiotic and decolonial perspective, the semiotic codes present in the iconography of the Puruhá culture, observable in archaeological ceramic pieces and their reinterpretation in the Guano rugs, understood as living cultural artifacts. The analysis of the denotative and connotative levels of the graphic motifs integrates the iconographic study, Andean fractal design, and the examination of contemporary artisanal discourses. The results demonstrate the existence of a structured symbolic system, based on principles of duality, complementarity, cyclicality, and the tripartite division of the cosmos, as well as the persistence of patterns such as spirals and zoomorphic figures in current textile production. The study identifies that, despite this symbolic continuity, those who possess this knowledge often attribute these symbols to external cultural frameworks, primarily the Inca culture, which limits their potential as a resource for identity, culture, and tourism. In this sense, the research provides a situated and non-hegemonic interpretive framework that contributes to the cultural reinterpretation of the Guano knotted carpets, offering input for safeguarding intangible cultural heritage, strengthening local identity, and designing sustainable cultural interpretation strategies.

1. Introduction

Across various regions, local artisans have been recognized for their use of archaeological and ancestral iconography in architecture, visual arts, advertising [1], and handicrafts [2], aiming to empower communities through their cultural identity. These practices serve as strategies for cultural reinterpretation, enabling a connection between the past and contemporary dynamics of symbolic production. For instance, the effort to revalue Karanqui culture through ancestral iconography from the Gualimán archaeological site is noteworthy [3]. Likewise, the ceramics crafted in Belém, the capital of Pará state in northern Brazil, draw inspiration from local archaeological discoveries [4].

Local populations employ various mechanisms for cultural transmission of their archaeological heritage, serving both as means of symbolic preservation and as tools for identity construction. According to Da Silva Brito de Azevedo and De Godoy [4], incorporating archaeological elements into ceramics has played a crucial role in maintaining ancestral knowledge and identity within Belém’s local communities. This notion is further supported by Souza Lima [5], who observes that artisanal replication processes have nurtured a cultural connection to identity and fostered a sense of belonging among the local population.

However, these actions are often not conscious processes among the population, so the message is neither properly directed nor received. This lack of interpretive awareness limits the communicative potential of heritage and generates partial or distorted readings of cultural legacy, a reality that has been identified in the study area. Guano, a canton in the province of Chimborazo, nationally recognized as the “Craft Capital of Ecuador,” has used textile crafts as an unconscious communication mechanism to keep the Puruhá culture’s heritage alive. This symbolic continuity occurs without interpretive mediation that explicitly links the symbols to their original cultural context, a situation that has contributed to the reproduction of imprecise historical narratives and the symbolic disconnect between handcrafted objects and the culture that gave rise to them.

The Puruhá culture historically occupied the present-day provinces of Chimborazo, Bolívar, and Tungurahua, located in the central Andes of Ecuador. Their territory centered on the Chambo River basin, flanked by the Chimborazo and Tungurahua volcanoes, with a landscape of high plateaus and inter-Andean valleys situated between 2500 and 3500 m above sea level. The Puruhá occupation is dated between 320 ± 20 CE and 1033–1053 CE, spanning the Regional Development Period and the Integration Period [6,7,8,9]. Around 1460, the territory was incorporated into the Tawantinsuyu during the Inca expansion led by Túpac Yupanqui, which introduced changes in the political organization and local cultural practices, though without eliminating preexisting traditions. Today, the population of the province of Chimborazo is predominantly mestizo and Kichwa-speaking indigenous. The Guano canton, located 8 km north of Riobamba, is known for its tradition of producing knotted rugs, which represents a continuity of production that originated in the colonial workshops established in the area since the 16th century, which transformed production methods but did not eliminate indigenous textile practices.

This study is justified by the need to critically and contextually address the processes of interpreting cultural heritage related to the Puruhá culture, particularly those that have historically been mediated by archaeological and discursive approaches of a colonial nature. The absence of contextualized semiotic readings has generated a disconnect between ancestral iconography and its contemporary use in artisanal production, limiting its potential as a tool for conscious cultural transmission and identity strengthening. In this sense, the research contributes an interdisciplinary approach that articulates archaeology, semiotics, and decolonial studies, allowing not only a reinterpretation of Puruhá iconography from the worldview of the territory, but also contributing to the reinterpretation of the knotted rugs of Guano as intangible cultural heritage, with a direct impact on the interpretive, educational, and tourism processes of the canton.

Therefore, this research aims, initially, to transform the study of Puruhá culture from a decolonial semiotic perspective. This will be achieved through the interpretation of iconography recovered from archaeological remains, using terms that reflect the reality of the territory and the worldview of the social group. In this sense, the overall objective of the research is to analyze the semiotic codes present in Puruhá iconography and their symbolic continuity in the knotted rugs of Guano, as a mechanism for intergenerational cultural transmission and the reinterpretation of intangible cultural heritage.

The next step is to associate this iconography with the textile production of Guano knotted rugs, in which the iconography is depicted. However, this iconography is often misinterpreted, or the discourse generated by the archaeologist Jacinto Jijón y Caamaño persists. Based on his studies published in 1927, Jijón y Caamaño [10,11] analyzed the Puruhá culture using the analytical categories of their time, employing terms that downplay the complexity of this culture. Therefore, the specific objectives are to critically reinterpret the Puruhá iconography documented in the archaeological record; to identify its presence, adaptation, and transformation in the designs of the knotted rugs; and to analyze the artisanal discourses associated with their production and commercialization.

From this starting point, the aim is to construct an alternative and situated cultural discourse, much more closely aligned with the historical, symbolic, and territorial reality, that can be employed within the interpretive processes that artisans maintain in the cultural experience of Guano’s knotted rugs. This will strengthen their value as intangible cultural heritage, which is marketed and disseminated as part of the Guano Pueblo Mágico (Magical Town) offerings, contributing to the safeguarding of heritage, the improvement of the cultural tourism experience, and the strengthening of local identity from the perspective outlined.

The article is organized into several sections that facilitate a progressive development of the proposed analysis in line with the stated objectives. It begins with the presentation of the theoretical and conceptual framework, which addresses the foundations of semiotics, archaeological iconography, and decolonial approaches relevant to the study of cultural heritage. Following this, the methodology is outlined, detailing the iconographic, documentary, and ethnographic analysis techniques applied to the Puruhá archaeological remains and the knotted rugs of Guano. The results are then presented and analyzed, establishing a connection between the semiotic reinterpretation of the iconography and its manifestation in contemporary textile production. Finally, the conclusions are drawn, reflecting on the research’s contributions, its implications for safeguarding intangible cultural heritage, and its relevance within the interpretive and tourism processes of the Guano canton.

2. Literature Review

Pre-Columbian design is founded on a system of signs that reflects the descriptions and meanings inherent to a society, aiming to position itself as a reference point for other societies [12]. Additionally, Chicaiza [13] notes that this system serves as a means of conveying information, characterized by visual iconography that, when combined with semantics, imparts meaning to the system. This concept is further supported by the relationships outlined by Morris [14], who identifies three distinct types of relationships, illustrated in Figure 1.

Eco [15] describes the study of signs as an “all-encompassing science” that, bolstered by semiotics, integrates experience and knowledge to define its “signifier” and “signified.” This underscores the necessity for in-depth studies aimed at understanding signs, especially when they originate from cultural contexts distinct from the Western framework.

While there are subtle differences in the application of iconography and signs, both are integral to the study of visual representation. Iconography pertains to the content and themes of images, whereas signs offer a semiotic perspective on how meaning is communicated. The complexities inherent in visual interpretation support the combined use of iconography and signs for analyzing the visual culture of human groups, thus providing a solid theoretical foundation for the study of Andean iconography.

2.1. Andean Worldview, Duality and Symbolic Structures

Taking these relationships into consideration, it should be highlighted that, within Andean iconography, most objects are constructed from representations of the cosmos [12], which show that the cosmos is composed of duality and opposites (Figure 2), simultaneously producing the complementarity that exists between these elements [13].

These symbolic structures are not merely dictated by aesthetic criteria; rather, they reflect intricate systems of thought organization. In these systems, spatial, temporal, and social dimensions are interwoven, enabling us to comprehend how human groups perceive reality and their connection to the environment.

2.2. Andean Design, Fractality and Pattern Analysis

To this end, it is essential to understand the Andean fractal design as a complement to semiotics, where geometry, culture, and materiality converge. From these relationships, one can contemplate cultural dynamics, particularly the conception and understanding of a human group’s reality and existence within a specific spacetime.

The analysis employs patterns depicted on the “subjects,” a concept Villanueva Criales [16] assigns to ceramics, which can reveal cultural narratives and help understand organizational processes or social structures [17]. These ceramics, whether they are fragments or complete pieces, have meaning that allows us to understand the relationship between the whole and its parts [16].

To achieve this, we draw upon the work of Milla [18], who develops a graphic analysis using fractals, identifying the square as the basic unit of pre-Columbian Andean design since it establishes itself as the starting point for a self-similar pattern. In addition, Sandoval García [19] supports the integration of fractal geometry as part of the complementary methodologies for archaeological processes, since it aids in understanding patterns at different scales [20]. Such knowledge can translate into a better understanding of past phenomena, as well as their material and immaterial culture, through a more nuanced interpretation.

Thus, the relationship established between semiotics and Andean design through fractal analysis is undeniable, since the designs, although appearing formally simple, are based on complex semiotic structures that reflect a profound cultural meaning.

2.3. Andean Textiles as Devices of Cultural Transmission

Among the artisanal expressions in which this semiotic relationship is most deeply manifested, textiles stand out. Throughout the Andean regions, textiles have served as vehicles for the intergenerational transmission of iconography linked to the symbolic and material environment of human groups, as the transfer of these signs to everyday objects has fostered a greater appreciation and valuation of their iconographic content [21,22]. Given its significance, this mechanism of transmission cannot be understood apart from the power dynamics that have shaped the production, circulation, and reinterpretation of textile designs over the past century. These dynamics permeate indigenous design through overlapping historical layers: from the colonial weaving workshops, the first coercive labor regime in which fabrics were produced for the colonial market following patterns that responded to external demands rather than local cosmology [23], through the hacienda system—in which indigenous communities’ ability to make decisions about their own cultural products remained constrained—to the educational policies of the republican nation-state, which contributed to symbolic homogenization and the displacement of local identity markers.

In the contemporary context, various studies have examined Andean textiles as active vehicles of cultural transmission, as they incorporate signs and iconography imbued with symbolic meaning. As detailed by Condori-Viza et al. [24], initiatives such as the Arica Academy of Ethnomathematics have made it possible to study pre-Hispanic textiles with the aim of reconnecting people with the mathematical thought of the Arica culture—knowledge that forms part of their heritage but has historically been undervalued; such efforts contribute to the strengthening of cultural identity by highlighting the intellectual depth of ancestral craftsmanship. Along the same lines, Parada [25], from the Ecuadorian context, introduces the concept of aesthetic sovereignty as a central category for understanding how repertoires with indigenous roots can serve as strategies for identity affirmation. His work highlights that Puruhá clothing and artisanal design do not depend on academic mediation or access to archaeological archives, but rather on a “community aesthetic consciousness” that functions as a form of resistance against the coloniality of knowledge [26]. This perspective necessitates complementing semiotic analysis with a historical–political reading that considers the material conditions in which iconographic motifs are produced, circulated, and transformed.

2.4. Puruhá Culture and the Limitations of the Traditional Archaeological Approach

Such is the case of the Puruhá culture, which is dated within a pre-Hispanic historical context between 320 ± 20 AD and 1033–1053 AD, encompassing the Regional Development Period (300 BC–800 AD) and the Integration Period (800–1530 AD) [19,20,21]. The initial studies that established the knowledge of the Puruhá culture are primarily based on the work of Jacinto Jijón y Caamaño [6], who presented six phases of this culture: Macaxí or Protopanzaleo, Tuncahuán, Guano or San Sebastián, Elén-pata, Huavalac, and Puruhá-Inca [6,7,22].

However, the details presented in these studies offer a limited analysis of this group. For example, the constant use of the word “Indian” to refer to those categorized as “natives of the territory” reinforces the perception of this population as lacking rights and possessing limited capacity, rendering their informal knowledge worthless to researchers. This perspective has contributed to the perpetuation of colonial discourses that minimize the symbolic and cultural complexity of the Puruhá culture. Therefore, this study begins with the premise that every cultural group possesses a culture of immense value.

2.5. Continuity of Ancestral Iconography in Contemporary Crafts

Based on the aforementioned cases, it is evident how the use of icons in textiles has become a persistent mechanism within contemporary crafts, serving as one of the most common ways to transmit the iconography of each cultural group from generation to generation. Bezerra [2] analyzes how artisans from the village of Joanes, Marajó Island, Brazil, often replicate and adapt designs from archaeological pieces, such as Marajoara pottery, to create contemporary crafts that reflect local cultural identities. In other words, this process helps create new pictorial arrangements in which the symbols are transferred from their original spacetime and rearranged within a contemporary context.

This background allows us to understand that the reinterpretation of ancestral iconography through crafts is not a passive reproduction of the past but rather an active process of cultural reinterpretation—a perspective that is key to analyzing the Guano knotted rugs in relation to the Puruhá culture.

A review of the literature reveals that, while studies exist on semiotics, Andean design, fractality, and textiles as means of cultural transmission, a gap persists in research that articulates these approaches from a decolonial perspective specifically applied to the Puruhá culture and its expression in contemporary artisanal production. This gap justifies the relevance of the present study, which aims to reinterpret Puruhá iconography within its cultural context and to strengthen its conscious reinterpretation in Guano knotted rugs.

3. Methodology

The study employs a three-phase methodology (see Figure 3) designed to integrate historical, symbolic, empirical, and discursive analyses. Its goal is to understand and enhance the textile production of Guano, particularly in relation to the knotted carpets of the region, within a tourist-cultural framework. This approach is interdisciplinary, combining elements of semiotics, iconographic analysis, Andean fractal design, and decolonial studies.

The methodological structure directly reflects the reviewed theoretical approaches, establishing an explicit relationship between the referenced authors, the applied techniques, and the types of analysis developed in each phase of the study.

In the first phase, corresponding to the iconographic and documentary analysis of the archaeological record, an exhaustive study is conducted of the pieces recorded by Jacinto Jijón y Caamaño [10], applying systematization techniques according to the cultural phases and the identified iconographic elements. This analysis is based on the contributions of Morris [12] and Eco [15], allowing the signs to be addressed from their syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic dimensions, as well as on the approaches of Morillo [12] and Chicaiza [13] for iconographic interpretation.

In addition, a documentary review was conducted, supplemented by consultations with experts in Andean cosmovision and cultural heritage, with the aim of contrasting the interpretation of the symbolic meaning of each element within its ancestral context. This involved incorporating a decolonial perspective oriented towards questioning the analytical categories inherited from traditional archaeology.

It is important to note that, due to the scope of the analysis resulting from the number of pieces detailed in the publications of Jijón and Caamaño [10,11], representative examples were selected to illustrate the iconographic diversity and its relevance, prioritizing those motifs that exhibit formal and symbolic continuity in contemporary textile production.

In the second phase, an association was made between the iconography identified in the archaeological record and the artisanal textile production generated by the knowledge bearers, specifically the Guano carpet makers. This phase aims to establish correlations between ancestral iconography and its manifestation in the making of traditional Guano rugs, following Milla’s [18] theories on Andean fractal design and the notion of self-similar patterns.

To this end, visits were made to all the rug workshops in Guano, and the knowledge holders shared their photographic archives, which constitute empirical records made by local artisans. On other occasions, it was possible to photograph some rugs that were in stock. This material was analyzed by identifying geometric patterns, repetitive structures, and relationships between the whole and its parts, in accordance with the contributions of Villanueva Criales [16], Brown et al. [17], and Sandoval García [19]. Through direct observation, the use and evolution of symbols in contemporary artisanal practices were validated, allowing for the recognition of processes of adaptation, reinterpretation, and symbolic continuity in textile designs.

In the third phase, a qualitative analysis was conducted on the artisanal discourses and the content shared during the interpretation of the rugs within the tourist experience. This information was collected through interviews and participant observation with the artisans to analyze their discourses, the meanings they attribute, and the values associated with textile production. This analysis aligns with the approaches to cultural transmission and symbolic reinterpretation explored in the literature [20,21,22]. Consequently, the cultural narrative conveyed by tourist guides was identified, revealing the persistence of partial interpretations or discourses inherited from colonial perspectives. This identification calls for corrections to create a more authentic and educational tourist experience regarding the knotted carpets of Guano, which should reflect a situated interpretation of the Puruhá culture and its intangible cultural heritage.

The applied methodology is structured in a narrative phase–technique–result diagram, which allows for demonstrating the direct relationship between the reviewed theoretical approaches, the methodological procedures used, and the results obtained (

Table 1. Phase-technical-result scheme.

Phase	Technique	Result
Phase 1. Iconographic, semiotic and documentary analysis	Specialized document review Systematized iconographic analysis Semiotic analysis (syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic) Consultation with experts in Andean worldview	Identification and classification of Puruhá signs and iconography Contextualized symbolic interpretation Selection of motifs with relevant cultural continuity
Phase 2. Iconographic association and formal analysis of textile design	Direct observation in artisan workshops Empirical photographic documentation Formal analysis of geometric patterns Analysis of Andean fractal design	Correlation between ancestral iconography and contemporary textile design Identification of self-similar patterns and symbolic structures Recognition of processes of continuity, adaptation, and reinterpretation
Phase 3. Discourse analysis and tourism-cultural validation	Semi-structured interviews Participant observation Qualitative analysis of artisan discourse	Identification of transmitted cultural narratives Detection of distortions or interpretive gaps Proposal of adjustments for a more authentic tourist experience

Source: Own making.

).

The methodological structure facilitated a coherent articulation of the reviewed theoretical approaches with empirical and discursive analysis. It ensured traceability between the stated objectives, the applied techniques, and the results obtained. This approach also strengthened the interpretive validity of the study from a critical and decolonial perspective.

With regard to the sampling design for the ethnographic component, the study included 12 artisans who still operate workshops alongside their families, selected through purposive sampling that prioritized: (a) the age of the workshop and (b) voluntary willingness to participate in the research, ensuring the free, prior, and informed consent of each participant.

The group of rugs analyzed consisted of 60 pieces, selected from photographic archives provided by the artisans themselves and from direct documentation gathered during visits to the workshops. Of the total images collected, priority was given to those featuring complete geometric motifs, good resolution, and iconographic representativeness within the workshop’s typical production. Based on this database, 10 recurring motifs were identified as the focus of the semiotic analysis. The criteria of recurrence and representativeness applied for the selection of motifs were: presence in at least 10% of the workshop’s pieces, and identification in more than three different workshops.

4. Results

Section 4 is organized into four subsections corresponding to the main lines of analysis developed in the research: the decolonial iconographic analysis of the Puruhá archaeological record; the formal and symbolic associations with contemporary textile production in Guano; the channels through which the designs are transmitted and circulated; and the analysis of the cultural discourse employed by knowledge bearers during the tourist experience.

At this point, it is necessary to clarify that the selection of the publications by Jijón and Caamaño [10,11] as the primary archaeological source is based on criteria of availability and territorial specificity: as of the date of this study, their database remains the most comprehensive and chronologically detailed printed record for Puruhá ceramics in Chimborazo. The presence of recent works [7,8,9,27] enables more precise contextualizations of the pre-Hispanic Puruhá landscape, but they do not offer iconographic analyses of ceramics comparable in scope, which justifies the adopted starting point without precluding the need to expand it.

Furthermore, the ceramics from Jijón and Caamaño are not presented as the source from which the designs of contemporary rugs derive, but rather as the most thoroughly documented material record of the iconography that this study proposes to reinterpret from the Andean worldview. The ceramics thus serve as complementary evidence that allows for the identification of the antiquity and territorial specificity of certain motifs, while the relevant symbolic literature [18,28,29] provides the interpretive framework applicable to the ceramic artifacts.

4.1. De-Colonial Iconographic Analysis of the Pieces Identified by Jacinto Jijón and Camaaño

Before presenting the analysis of the individual pieces, it is important to note that the publications by Jijón and Caamaño [10,11] offer predominantly morphological and chromatic descriptions of the ceramic pieces, without addressing the compositional organization of the decorative field or its possible symbolic significance. This limitation is not attributable exclusively to the author, but rather to the archaeological paradigm of his time, which prioritized typological and chronological classification over iconographic interpretation.

In Volume I, Jacinto Jijón y Caamaño begins his description of the Puruhá people by defining them as a country, a territorial unit that fits the social context of the time but limits and overlooks the nation-state dimension of this group due to the limited archaeological research conducted to date in Ecuadorian territory. This initial stance constitutes one of the first indications of a colonial interpretation of the Puruhá territory and sociopolitical organization, an aspect that directly influences the subsequent interpretation of the material record.

During the first section, the author provides a convoluted description of the territory occupied by the Puruhá, emphasizing the harsh climate of the area. However, it is crucial to acknowledge that their strategic location enabled them to access other territories, allowing them to mitigate agricultural challenges by obtaining products from nearby regions through trade routes. Additionally, there is evidence of significant pastoral activity, which was not characteristic of the peak of Puruhá culture but contributed to the region’s development as one of the most prominent textile workshops in the Audiencia of Quito [30]. This shift may explain the replacement of llamas with sheep to enhance the production of animal fiber for these workshops. This observation highlights a temporal overlap between pre-Hispanic practices and colonial dynamics, a distinction that the author does not clearly address.

Regarding the remains identified on the Macaxí plain, the presence of an advanced culture is noted. However, in terms of power, the author suggests a diminished position relative to the surrounding cultures, as he fails to recognize the organizational capacity of the enclosed territories, thus justifying the subordination imposed on the cultures of the region. These types of statements reinforce a cultural hierarchy that responds to parameters external to the Andean context.

The text adds information about the population reductions implemented in the territory during the second half of the 16th century, specifically acknowledging a decrease in the population of Guano. However, it is important to note that this control measure over the indigenous population not only led to a reduction in numbers but also resulted in the fusion of cultural practices within the territories. This fusion contributed to the homogenization of cultural processes and elements, ultimately diminishing the cultural identity of the people involved. Additionally, it facilitated processes of syncretism, which excluded pre-existing cultures. This phenomenon serves as a crucial antecedent for understanding the loss of their symbolic references and the subsequent reinterpretation of ancestral iconography.

The descriptions provided do not adequately capture the diverse connections that humans maintain with their environment. While the iconography found on archaeological artifacts demonstrates an understanding of space and its elements, it also indicates that the environment is in a constant state of change, a reality recognized by its inhabitants. The sole relationship described is “the worship the Indians offered,” which refers to the connection this group had with the Chimborazo volcano, a central element in their activities. Therefore, the Puruhá people’s knowledge of the Chimborazo volcano must have been extensive and far more complex than merely an act of worship. This complexity is evidenced by the sacred spaces found there, such as the Machay Temple, located on the southern flank of the Whymper summit at an altitude of 4700 m above sea level. This conceptual reductionism obscures the symbolic and territorial dimensions of the sacred Puruhá landscape.

During the description of the decorative elements of the artifacts, the author limits himself to a geometric description of the elements, without linking their meaning to their relationship with the Puruhá worldview. Consequently, the ritual value of these objects is minimized, neglecting the message conveyed through their unique decoration. This is reinforced by various statements made by the author in which he argues that the Puruhá failed to “imitate” the representations of other groups, labeling the existing representations as errors. This approach consolidates a comparative aesthetic reading that disregards the symbolic autonomy of the Puruhá culture.

Based on these observations, a decolonial iconographic analysis of the archaeological pieces was conducted, with the aim of reinterpreting the symbols from an Andean worldview and highlighting the symbolic messages omitted or distorted in traditional interpretations.

This iconography is depicted on a compote bowl from the Macaxí phase (Figure 4). The description [10] indicates that it corresponds to “two superimposed dragon figures, with the tail of one resting on the head of the other. The monster’s body is serpentine and ends in a fish-like tail, and it has two feet.” This description reinforces the Western perspective used in understanding Andean decorative characteristics, which is based on the integration of mythological beings from outside the territory, such as “dragons.” It ultimately imposes a hegemonic cultural horizon by determining that this iconography is repetitive even in geographical areas like Costa Rica and Nicaragua, although to date there is no representative evidence to prove an influence of Northern cultures on the study area.

From an Andean perspective, Fink [28] and Milla [18] highlight the presence of snakes as mythical beings that, in duality, represent water and fertility as vehicles of connection between the three worlds that make up the mythical order of the universe. Some interpretations of this dualism are, initially, earthly–celestial, followed by life–death and good–evil. Regarding the detailed parts of the head and tail, Narváez [29] points out that these two parts “represent an indivisible and harmonious dual unity,” emphasizing the power of the head as an element of magnificence, which is why the opposite tail connects with the opposite head.

During the Tuncahuán period (Figure 5a), the pot is described as having “contrasting yellow and black decoration” [10], without providing an analysis of its compositional organization or its possible symbolic meaning. The decorative field is divided into clearly delimited sections: a central area framed by lateral bands, with diagonal lines that segment the space into alternating triangular zones of yellow and black. This organization is not arbitrary; it responds to a structure of bilateral symmetry that distributes the space into opposing and complementary halves. In this way, the bipartite organization is consistent with the principle of complementary duality established in the Andean worldview [18], where opposites—up/down, right/left, light/dark—are not conceived as contradictions but as a dynamic unity. The yellow–black color contrast could be associated with the day/night or sun/earth opposition, although this attribution requires corroboration with additional evidence.

Also noteworthy are a compote dish and a stand (Figure 5b), which, according to Jijón and Caamaño [10], correspond to a compote dish with “red and white decorations,” though no description is provided of the spatial arrangement of the decorative field. The decorative field is identified as being organized into three distinct horizontal registers: an upper one with linear geometric motifs, a central one that is the most complex, including spirals, and a lower one with closing bands. This tripartite division of the decorative space was not noted by Jijón and Caamaño. The organization suggests a correspondence with the tripartite division of the Andean cosmos: Hanan Pacha (world above), Kay Pacha (world of the present), and Uku Pacha (world below) [18,29]. The spirals in the central register could be interpreted as representations of cyclical movement and regeneration, recurring elements in Andean iconography associated with Kay Pacha as a space of transformation. It should be noted that Jijón and Caamaño’s description [10] overlooks both the tripartite compositional structure and the symbolic density of the motifs, limiting the piece to its material-chromatic dimension.

In the San Sebastián phase, the presence of faces stands out, as in the case of the drum shown in Figure 6, which is described in terms of its morphology and decoration without attributing any symbolic meaning to the motifs present. The piece features a modeled face as its central element, framed by horizontal bands decorated with double spirals arranged in sequence. These spirals are organized in symmetrical pairs that create an alternating visual rhythm along the decorative band. The double spirals suggest the representation of opposites contained within a single sign, consistent with the principle of complementary duality in the Andean worldview [18]. Their alternating arrangement could be associated with the cyclical rhythm that runs through all living beings, expressing the experience of duality as a dynamic equilibrium rather than a contradiction. Additionally, the shape of the double spirals has been interpreted as a representation of the two-headed serpent, a figure associated with the generative principle of life and linked to Uku Pacha—the inner or subterranean world—where the forces of origin and transformation reside [29,30]. In the characterization of the piece, both its compositional structure and symbolic density are omitted, reducing it to its morphological attributes.

The jug from the Elén-pata phase (Figure 7) is described solely in terms of its shape and geometric decorative elements. The piece features a central band decorated with a sequence of rhombuses, within which a circle is inscribed, containing, in turn, three points arranged in a defined pattern, while the remaining elements of the decorative field are distributed around this band, forming a system in which the rhombus shape functions as the dominant structural unit. From the Andean worldview, this structure suggests a representation of the pacha or world, a recurring motif in which the rhombus functions as a sign of totality [18]; the circle inscribed within it could be associated with the concept of “soul” or “essence” and with the cycle of life, while the three points are consistent with the tripartite division of the cosmos. Taken together, they can be attributed notions of protection, duality, and proportionality of life conceived from the sacred [29].

In another jar from the Elén-pata phase (Figure 8), a decorative band can be seen at the neck level, in which a stepped sequence is depicted, from which a sense of ascent or a connecting bridge is given.

Figure 9 features a rhombus in its central section, interpreted as a head, symbolizing the pacha, or world. It is notable for its illustration of the four cardinal points, which converge at the union of the wipalas, forming a square cross. The surrounding triangles represent the Uku pacha, or inner world, suggesting the regeneration of life cycles on Earth, as they ascend and descend along the stairs.

During the same period, a group of vessels was produced whose decoration is dominated by basic geometric elements. The decoration on this set of vessels features triangles, rectangles, diagonals, and steps, arranged in such a way as to create a marked ascending and descending verticality; one of the vessels (Figure 10a) also incorporates a circle inscribed within a triangle, accompanied by a serpentine figure. This verticality suggests the representation of the passage between the three worlds of the Andean cosmos, where the steps and diagonals function as pathways of ascent or descent; the circle contained within the triangle could be interpreted as the receptacle of the soul, and the serpent—a mythical being whose dual nature represents water and fertility—serves as a vehicle connecting the three planes that constitute the order of the universe [18,28].

In the Huavalac phase (Figure 11), a pitcher adorned with a network of rhombuses stands out. This design alludes to the extensive coverage that the pacha, or earth, possesses. The rhombuses are intertwined, symbolizing the union or connections between the elements. The vertical lines complement this design, indicating the parallelism and proportion associated with the protection of the origin, or God.

Finally, in the Puruhá-Inca phase, there is a predominance of vessels decorated with bands and lines, without a detailed analysis of their symbolic meaning (Figure 12). The pieces feature a recurring decorative field with a tripartite division of space, complemented by diagonals that trace ascending and descending paths; there is also a notable simplification of the decoration compared to earlier phases. The tripartite organization is consistent with the structural order of Andean design which, according to Milla [18], achieves compositional balance and reflects an understanding of spacetime and social organization, while the vertical lines suggest the representation of the sun’s paths, whose complementary diagonals express the transit between cosmic planes. The decorative simplification, for its part, could be associated with the cultural transformations that occurred following the arrival of the Inca culture in the Puruhá territory, which introduced changes in certain symbolic and productive practices.

4.2. Textile Association with Guano Knotted Carpets

This section presents the results derived from the formal and symbolic association between Puruhá archaeological iconography and the designs found in contemporary knotted rugs from Guano.

This section is based on in-depth interviews conducted with rug makers from Guano, who indicate that the rug designs have undergone several transitions. Don Alfonso Allauca, in his 2024 interview, notes that the earliest designs depicted on the rugs were Inca, which are still produced today but have been adapted to current color trends in the market. Don Mario Amaguaya indicates that pre-Columbian designs continue to be used, followed by Don Medardo Pancho, who points to the incorporation of floral designs as a Spanish influence. Finally, all agree on the integration of landscapes, faces, and gradients as distinctive designs, which increase in complexity depending on the shadows and gradients incorporated. These testimonies allow us to identify a cumulative process of cultural layers in the textile design.

At this point, it is necessary to note that Padilla [31] partially corroborates the designs compiled in this study. He specifies that artisans categorize the “pre-Columbian lion, chacana, deer, and llamas” as pre-Columbian designs; the “redskin Indian and the Inca in profile” as pre-Incan; and finally, he groups the remaining designs as the artisans’ own creations. However, no mention was made of pre-Incan designs during the research process. This discrepancy reveals a flexible and unsystematic symbolic categorization.

After establishing the presence of four design types, this study addresses the relationship between the rug designs and the iconography of archaeological pieces, emphasizing the Incan and pre-Columbian designs that artisans have in their personal archives and in their workshops. The comparative analysis allowed for the identification of direct formal correspondences between archaeological symbols and contemporary textile designs.

It begins with one of the most representative symbols of the study of Jijón and Caamaño [10], which is the two-headed serpent, which is linked to the Proto-Panzaleo II period; this symbol has been depicted in various textiles, as well as at various scales of work.

In Figure 13, section A shows the symbol depicted on the archaeological piece. Then, in section B, using the drawing technique employed by carpet weavers, the symbol is transferred to the design grids to determine the size of the design and, consequently, the number of knots per quadrant required for its creation. These numbers will influence the amount of material the loom will need. Finally, section C shows how the design is incorporated into the knotted carpet.

In Figure 14, we observe the transfer of various symbols onto the rugs. Section E is particularly notable for its integration of the stairs with the Chakana, which features a central circle symbolizing the container of life. This circle points to the central point, representing the soul or essence. Cabezas [32] notes that it “symbolizes, above all, time: without beginning or end, as a continuous and unchanging succession of instants identical to one another.”

Finally, in Figure 15 and Figure 16, the use of different signs individually is shown with the aim of creating a symmetrical design using color contrast, but the integration of geometric elements, pre-Columbian designs and contemporary Andean designs can be appreciated.

4.3. Channels of Transmission and Circulation of Designs

Interviews conducted with the knowledge bearers in the Guano workshops reveal that none of them claim to have derived their designs directly from images taken from museum collections or archaeological documents of any kind, establishing that access to the works of Jijón and Caamaño [10] or to specialized archaeological literature is not part of the educational background of any of the workshops visited. Far from undermining the thesis of symbolic continuity, this finding necessitates a more precise reframing of the mechanism of transmission.

Thus, the primary transmission mechanism identified is intergenerational practice within the workshop, which stems from master-apprentice teachings. As a result, many of the designs have been shared among workshop members through inherited patterns, reproduced or adapted by each generation, and incorporated in response to specific client requests, without necessarily involving an explicit conceptualization of their cultural origins. This mechanism is consistent with what Parada [25] describes regarding contemporary Puruhá clothing: aesthetic elements of indigenous origin persist as living heritage through community practice, without their transmission requiring an academic or documentary process; it also highlights the ability to maintain and adapt formal repositories without the need to recognize them as such before external observers [25] (pp. 89–112).

Another resource available to artisans for incorporating symbolism and iconography is the canton’s collective visual memory, which serves as a symbolic repository of geometric patterns, spirals, rhombuses, stepped designs, and anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figures that are present in everyday life in the form of handicrafts, pottery passed down through families, building facades, and more, which each generation of rug weavers is familiar with before beginning formal training in the technique.

However, it must be acknowledged that this study cannot definitively establish the historical moment when certain motifs were incorporated into Guano’s textile repertoire, nor the exact chain of transmission between the archaeological record and living artisanal production. This gap between the archaeological record and contemporary practice constitutes an inherent limitation of this work and opens a line of future research.

4.4. Discourse Association

This section presents the results of the discourse analysis obtained from interviews and direct observation during the Guano knotted carpet tourism experience.

In the next phase, researchers identified the most frequently shared topics of information through in-depth interviews with knowledge holders and direct observation in workshops and guided groups within the carpet tourism experience, establishing six main topics (Figure 17).

The first three topics are associated with the interpretation of the workshops within the tourist experience, for which a brief description of the different steps, materials, and tools required for making the carpet is provided. During the guided tour, the guides intersperse their own experiences regarding: the social and labor dynamics of the workshops during their heyday, the specialization time required to advance to a higher position, the length of the workday, the tasks performed by women and men, how the materials were obtained, and the time required to fulfill each workshop’s orders. Details are also shared about the most intricate designs that have been created, which feature the faces of national and international public figures depicted on the carpets.

The phenomenon of attributing artisanal designs to “Inca culture”—as documented in the discourses of knowledge bearers—is part of a regional dynamic that far exceeds the scope of any single archaeological publication. Throughout the Andes, the term “Inca” has historically functioned as a signifier of high semantic plasticity: it simultaneously designates a specific pre-Hispanic state, a historical period, a Pan-Andean cultural horizon, and, more generally, everything that existed before the Spanish arrival. Furthermore, this is reinforced by an educational system that has devoted extensive attention to Inca civilization while treating pre-Tawantinsuyu local cultures as marginal, as noted by Rodríguez-Cruz [33], compounded by five centuries of mestizaje that have acted as a force for cultural homogenization.

In this context, the use of the term “Inca” by rug weavers to refer to the symbolic heritage of their rugs is not so much a historical error as a functional adaptation of identity: it allows them to connect with a past that is recognized internationally without bearing the burden of a local ethnic specificity that could be subject to discrimination. Janeta [30] documents this tension in the Puruwa worldview, where the depth of ancestral knowledge coexists with a narrative that attributes its origin to Inca culture, which contributes to obscuring the uniqueness of the local tradition.

An additional factor influencing the cultural attribution of these designs is the linguistic dimension. The Kichwa language—a standardized variant adopted following the Inca expansion—gradually supplanted the local names of iconographic motifs, replacing them and establishing a symbolic association with the Inca. Terms such as chakana or pachamama, widely used today to designate elements of Andean design, belong to standardized Kichwa and do not necessarily reflect the original conceptual categories of the Puruhá. This lexical homogenization, brought about by the expansion of the Tawantinsuyu as well as by colonial missionary language policies and contemporary intercultural bilingual education programs, has contributed to Guano artisans naming their designs with vocabulary that refers to the Inca, even when the forms they reproduce have local roots.

The last three topics are most frequently used during visits to stores where the aim is to highlight the value of the carpet-making technique. It’s important to note that the topic of “Loss of Market Share” is one of the most common ways to discourage the purchase of “Chinese” carpets, as they call those mass-produced or industrially manufactured carpets sold in various souvenir shops throughout the city. To prevent potential buyers from feeling cheated by purchasing counterfeit carpets, the artisans have partnered with the Higher Polytechnic School of Chimborazo. Through this collaboration, they have designed and implemented a logo based on the patterns of archaeological artifacts to create a product identity, as well as a certificate of origin for carpets or souvenirs produced using the knotted carpet weaving technique (Figure 18).

Unfortunately, it was determined that none of the bearers engaged with the details and interpretations of the iconography found in the archaeological artifacts of the Puruhá culture. Instead, they associate these symbols and icons with the Inca culture, highlighting a cultural disconnect stemming from inadequate interpretation. This finding represents a key result of the study, as it illustrates the existence of erroneous cultural narratives that create historical inaccuracies and contribute to the ongoing erosion of local identities.

5. Discussion

In the textile association, the recurring use of the previously analyzed iconography has been identified, but it is attributed to a culture other than the Puruhá. Most wearers claim that the Inca culture inspires the designs. This shift in identity can be understood in light of the processes of Andean cultural hegemony described by Milla [18], where the Inca narrative has operated as a dominant framework that renders pre-existing local symbolic expressions invisible. This phenomenon has also been noted by Quijano [26] in relation to the coloniality of power, where certain symbolic systems are hierarchized and legitimized to the detriment of others, even within Indigenous contexts. Another noteworthy element is the existence of combinations with symbols from other cultures, which the wearers associate with pre-Columbian cultures, but these associations remain rooted in Puruhá iconography. This symbolic overlap aligns with Cereceda [21] argument regarding the persistence of deep symbolic structures that remain active even when their cultural affiliation is resignified or reinterpreted. Most rugs inspired by Puruhá symbols are floor coverings, while those with landscapes, faces, and gradients are hung as art. This functional differentiation suggests a symbolic hierarchy of designs, where ancestral iconography is associated with everyday uses, while contemporary figurative designs are linked to an aesthetic and commercial logic, consistent with García [34] observations on the processes of cultural hybridization in contemporary artisanal contexts.

The discourse surrounding these rugs reveals that the artisans do not interpret their content for visitors, and often, the rugs are misinterpreted, limiting their potential as cultural, tourist, and economic resources for local communities. This lack of symbolic mediation aligns with the observations of Condori-Viza et al. [24], who warn that the loss of interpretive references in tourist contexts leads to the cultural depletion of heritage. Similarly, Smith [35] argues that the social activation of heritage depends largely on the discourses that accompany it and the agents who produce and transmit them. It is important to promote the integration of this information into interpretation processes, both for the sale of carpets and for the broader cultural experience, in order to avoid overshadowing the intrinsic value of heritage itself. Such an oversight could lead only to its commodification rather than genuine appreciation, revitalization, and safeguarding. In this regard, Pérez Maestro [22] argues that situated cultural interpretation is a key tool for rebalancing the tensions between economic use and heritage safeguarding. This approach aligns with the arguments of Harrison [36], who points to the importance of heritage management models that integrate living practices, social memory, and community participation. This perspective stresses the need for a balanced approach that respects both heritage and its interpretation to achieve its true social and economic use.

In addition, one of the central interpretive challenges of this analysis is the relationship between what is specifically Puruhá and the pan-Andean symbolic vocabulary. The cosmological elements identified on the ceramic pieces and rugs from Guano—the tripartite division of the cosmos, duality, the two-headed serpent—are documented in central Andean contexts [18,28], so their presence in Chimborazo requires further explanation. Two approaches allow us to advance this distinction: the ethnohistorical approach, based on colonial chronicles and documents that identify local cosmological elements not derived from the Inca horizon; and the archaeological approach, where Aguirre Merino et al. [7,8,28] document a territorial and ritual organization with distinct characteristics in the Guano River micro-basin.

Finally, an honest reflection on the decolonial scope of this study requires acknowledging that, while the interviews and participatory observation in the Guano workshops made it possible to document artisanal discourses and access the photographic archives of the knowledge bearers, the semiotic analysis and iconographic interpretation were predominantly carried out by the research team. The authors acknowledge this asymmetry as a significant methodological limitation: the proposed interpretations constitute academic hypotheses informed by archaeological, ethnographic, and bibliographic evidence, which require community validation in order to be adopted as interpretive resources in the canton’s educational and tourism processes.

6. Conclusions

The simplest archaeological pieces emphasize the use of diagonal, vertical, and horizontal lines, reflecting the proportionality and complementarity that shape the group’s worldview. Among the more intricate pieces, there is a recurring depiction of supreme beings, along with references to the tripartite division of the cosmos or the presence of three worlds. Additionally, there is a strong representation of protection and the container of life, suggesting that these figures may have been used ritually to safeguard human beings within the three worlds they inhabit. These findings affirm the existence of a structured symbolic system within Puruhá culture, aligned with the principles of duality, complementarity, and cyclicality that are intrinsic to the Andean worldview. They also demonstrate the continuity of these principles in both archaeological and contemporary material expressions.

The formal and symbolic connections between Puruhá archaeological iconography and the designs found on Guano knotted rugs indicate that these symbols have not only persisted over time but have also been reconfigured and adapted within contemporary artisanal practices. This process of symbolic continuity is evident in the repetition of geometric structures, self-similar patterns, and compositional principles that reflect Andean design, even in productive and commercial contexts that differ from their original settings. The knotted rugs, as living cultural artifacts, serve as carriers of symbolic memory and vehicles for intergenerational transmission, though in many instances, this transmission occurs without a conscious understanding of their ancestral meanings.

The analysis of artisanal discourse and the tourist experience revealed a significant issue concerning the cultural attribution of the iconography used. It identified a prevalent tendency to associate Puruhá symbols with Inca culture or other broad categories labeled as “pre-Columbian.” This shift in identity illustrates the ongoing influence of narratives derived from archaeological and educational frameworks rooted in colonialism, which have obscured local symbolic specificities. In this context, the decolonial contribution of this study is found in the situated reinterpretation of Puruhá iconography, the dismantling of hegemonic discourses, and the creation of an interpretive framework that empowers the local community to name, understand, and communicate its cultural heritage in accordance with its worldview.

Finally, this research opens up future avenues for the practical application of the results obtained, particularly in the design of cultural interpretation strategies that strengthen the transmission of ancestral Puruhá knowledge within local tourism and production processes. The proposed methodological model can be replicated in other Andean craft contexts where archaeological iconography remains current but underinterpreted, contributing to the construction of situated and decolonial heritage discourses. Furthermore, the results constitute a basis for the development of educational materials, interpretive guides, and training programs aimed at knowledge bearers, to enhance the cultural, social, and economic value of the knotted carpets of Guano, promoting a cultural heritage management that articulates safeguarding, identity, and territorial sustainability.