Work Text:
The tribe of semi-nomadic sheep-herders in the north of the continent of Herma exhibit unique weaving, dyeing, and textile manufacturing processes. This paper seeks to thoroughly explore the cultural practice of textile manufacturing in the Dubian culture. Much like the threads, this practice is interwoven within all Dubian people’s lives and livelihoods.
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Bdubs wiped the sweat off his brow. The sun had decided to be blisteringly hot today, just when the sheep had to move pastures. Today was the day where all of the tribe’s shepherds took their flocks from the mountains up further north down into the fertile plains where the rest of the tribe lived. The mountains were a solitary existence to live for half the year, but Bdubs enjoyed as much as he could. It was nice and quiet, only his sheep to bother him, not having to worry about all the cultural norms he was bound to in the colder months. But now he was in the ancestral home of his people, cresting the last of the foothills that block him from the low-lying countries.
Planting his shepherds crook into the ground at the top of this hill, he looks down. The river winding through the pastures and forest glimmers like a bejeweled ribbon cinching together a verdant garment. Fields of blooming dye flowers wave in the wind rippling through the tall grasses. Finding his ancestral farm, he surveys the state of disrepair it is in. It always works like this. While the other tribespeople keep it at least moderately repaired, it still slowly degraded without him living in it for half the year.
“Well. Time to buckle up and get to work.” With some self motivation, he sets down off the hill with his sheep circling around him.
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The Dubian shepherds engage in transhumance, or regular movement of their herds of sheep between summer and winter pastures. In the summer, they depart for the mountain range in the north, finding new, lush pastures for their flocks while it is relatively warm. When it begins to become too cold for both the humans and sheep in the mountains, they head down into their ancestral, low-lying homelands. Additionally, during the summer and spring months, the families and non-shepherds grow dye flowers and other foodstuffs in the fertile floodplains of the Climbai River. During this time, the sheep fully grow out their coat and get sheared soon after arriving in the low farms.
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Bdubs has been living at his “permanent” home for a while now. It's been about 2 weeks, and the weather was finally beginning to reach the temperatures it had been on the mountain. That means it was finally time to reap the benefits of his flock and shear each and every one that could be sheared. This was a time-consuming and arduous task, but was the highlight of Bdub’s year.
“Tch! Ai! Come on! This way!” Between the traditional herding calls and his very well trained herding dogs, the sheep had all made their way towards the shearing platform. Settling back on his haunches, he takes the first of the sheep by the ankles and begins snipping. After 15 years of practice, Bdubs had almost gained the title of a master shepherd, but not quite yet.
“Only two more years.” When a shepherd reached 17 years of solitary shepherding, they were able to join the council of elder shepherds that made the majority, if not all decisions for the tribe. His mind wandering, he snips a little too close to the skin and the ewe cries out once.
“Sorry! I promise I’ll pay attention.” He focuses back in and soon he is up to his waist in fluffy, somewhat scratchy untreated wool. The herd soon looks naked. Freed from their heavy woolen coats, they leap and play with each other. Bdubs can’t help but coo a little.
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Once sheared, the wool is gathered and washed multiple times to remove impurities and unhealthy enzymes. It is then treated in a mixture of beeswax and local herbs to soften and perfume the wool. This treatment also makes it more receptive to the dyeing treatment applied after washing. This is traditionally done in a festival during the last warm day of the year. The entire tribe gathers and uses massive basins while performing sacred rites and feasting.
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Bdubs was late for the Alanoli Festival. Just like he was every year. For some reason, there always seems to be something that goes wrong just before he's set to head out. This time, the walnut tree that grows in his courtyard dropped some of its fruit in one of the basins he was keeping his wool in and dyed it black prematurely. Frantically working to pull out the dyed fibers and separate the still good wool, he finally loads it all into his wagon and hitches up his trusty horse.
You could definitely tell where the sacred Alanoli festival site was. The mixture of rosemary, cloves, and urine made for a very pungent smell that pervaded the air for a very large radius around the festival. Thankfully, this was not Bdub’s first rodeo, and he was relatively used to the smell by now.
As he rode into the site, washers came up and gathered the basins and took them away to the steaming washtubs. Between the fire and steam, columns of smoke rise into the air, sunlight flickering between them.
The rest of the festival passes in a flash. The beautiful vats of dye paint the ground a myriad of colors, the smell and taste of roasted meats fill his nose as he tucks into the feast, and talking with people he hasn’t seen since last winter all flash past him in a time that is far too short. Finally, his wagon is loaded up with bundles of his wool, dyed in his predetermined colors and thoroughly washed. Bdubs sighs with relief as another part of the year is done.
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After the “Alanoli festival” as it is called in the Dubian language concludes, the shepherds collect their allotted wool and set back off to their respective farms. A unique facet of Dubian textile culture is that the shepherds and their families control the entire production of garments from the original fiber gathering all the way until the sewing. While many of the shepherds have families and each member of the family often specializes in a specific step in the production, Dubian culture still lacks a widespread definition of specialization.
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It was now fully winter, and the snow was beginning to pile up on the ground. He had made sure all the sheep were all snug in the barn, protected against the cold before he retired to his house. He had lit the candles around his rocking chair and tugged the spinning wheel over to rest between his legs. He had learned how to spin, weave, and sew from his mother and grandmother, just like he had learned husbandry and shearing from his father. Collecting some of the wool dyed red from chokecherries and sumac, he gathers it around his distaff and sets it against his arm. Pinching and spinning the fibers and guiding them into a thread, he begins pedalling at a regular rhythm, seeing the brilliant red thread gathering onto the wheel. Bdubs thinks nothing can get more relaxing than spinning in the dark, soft snow falling outside, the flickering candlelight letting him breathe freely for the first time in a long time.
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After spinning, the threads are then gathered and placed onto a loom and woven into traditional patterns. Geometric and natural patterns are the most common motifs among Dubian arts.
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The clacking of the loom fades into a rhythm as Bdubs fully focuses on changing the sheds correctly to get the pattern he wants. He can feel the history in each and every thread of both the warp and weft. Every fiber that is part of this fabric he himself had seen from its creation. The expanse of brilliant red with geometric red patterns stretching across the surface records each and every story he has from this wooling season.
Weaving his ends in, he admires the strong, soft, thick blanket-poncho he’s created. This will surely be invaluable for him for as long as he is alive, as well as his descendants.