IFHE Annual Leadership Meeting

Ref:38

Title

The Traditional Methods of Malagasy Indigenous Silk Producers and their Contribution to the Country’s Reforestation

Abstract

Research carried out in the central highlands of Madagascar, initiated by an interest in the production of cloth from wild silk, found that the women there not only use traditional methods established generations ago, but are also an essential element in current attempts to re-establish the forests with indigenous growth.

County Credited

Madagascar

Author Details

AUTHOR
Title of author / Dr.
Surname / Jennings-Rentenaar
First Name / Teena
Name of Institution / The University of Akron
Address of Institution / Akron, Ohio, USA, 44325
E-mail address of author /
Author biography
Teena Jennings-Rentenaar is a tenured faculty member in the School of Family and Consumer Sciences at The University of Akron, in Akron, Ohio, USA, where she teaches textile science and textile arts courses. She is interested in indigenous silk production and fair trade as well as contemporary textile arts.

Introduction

The Betsileo women of Madagascar have traditionally spun and woven a fabric derived from the silk of an indigenous moth. This fabric, or lamba, is culturally significant in that it is worn as a blanket around the body and over the shoulder by adult members of the community. In death, a similar cloth called a lambamena is used as a shroud, wrapping the body before internment.[1] Due to the cultural relevance of these cloths, the tradition of spinning and weaving indigenous silk has prevailed despite the laborious and time consuming nature of this activity.

Various Borocera species of moth, but principally the Borocera cajani, produce cocoons suitable for spinning and weaving. For the Betsileo, the cajani is most prevalent. It provides not only good silk fiber for cloth production, but also an important source of protein. The primary source of food for this species of moth is the native tapia tree.[2] With declining native forests in the highlands of Madagascar, a strategy was developed for ensuring the longevity of not only the forests but the tradition of silk spinning and weaving as well.

Steps in Silk Production

The Betsileo women rely on traditional methods of silk production. On the one hand production is therefore slow. Conversely, however, it is also flexible. Regardless of the family demands, they can maintain continual activity in one way or another. Figures 1 through 14 illustrate the steps required and the tools necessary in creating their silk cloth.

The Need for Fire Wood and the Threat to the Ecosystem

The demand for wood is high in a country where no other form of energy is available. Most of the indigenous forests have been cut down, their wood reduced to the charcoal lumps used as the fuel source for cooking. Charcoal making is an important activity for men living in the forested regions as it is a good source of family income (see Figures 15 and 16). Once the original trees are gone, they are replaced with eucalyptus or white pine. This practice has become prevalent because both of these species are fast growing, quickly yielding more family resources. The eucalyptus also provides the added benefit of continual growth from the stump despite traumatic cutting of the upper limbs and therefore eliminates the need for repeated plantings. Both are, however, invasive and much of the indigenous upper story growth has been replaced by these trees.

The Over-harvesting of Silk Pupa for Food

Food shortages, due in large part to the political instability that existed until as recently as 2005, caused people to rely on a food source that is typically regarded as a delicacy – the pupa of the Borocera cajani. Over-harvesting of the pupa resulted in declining populations of the moth and hence fewer silk cocoons for the manufacture of the silk lamba and lambamena. Because these larvae rely almost exclusively on the tapia tree for sustenance, coupled with the declining numbers of these trees, the population had little chance of recovery.

The Solution

Elders in the highland villages became aware of a shortage of medicinal plants in the forests of the highland regions. Consultations with local environmentalists seemed to indicate that their problem arose out of the invasive behaviour of the eucalyptus and pine trees. The stability of the indigenous tapia forest and the microclimate associated with it was destroyed, thus inhibiting the growth of the under story plants that the villagers had come to rely on. With the help of several international grants, studies were conducted that suggested that re-establishing the relevance of the tapia tree was paramount if indigenous medicinal plants were ever to survive. Also, if a project with a goal to replant the tapia tree was to succeed, a commercial value must be linked to their growth. It was necessary that everyone see the benefits if these trees were to be assured of continual growth. Only in this way, would the project have the support of nearby villagers.

With the Borocera cajani relying almost exclusively on tapia, creating a commercial setting for the silk became a logical solution. Once established, it became easier to ensure the survival of the moth. Villagers organized themselves into cooperatives that took on various responsibilities. Some policed the young tapia trees themselves, ensuring that they were not damaged or removed. Later, as they became mature enough to withstand the stress, large cages were built that each enclosed a tapia tree to house the larvae in their most vulnerable stage while permitting them to eat and build their cocoons (see Figure 17). Initially, eating the pupa was forbidden, to allow numbers to increase. Once the population was reinvigorated, villagers were permitted to harvest a certain number for eating and selling in the marketplace.

Co-operatives for Selling the Silk Fabric

Using traditional methods of spinning and weaving, the women devised different cloth formats, thus increasing their commercial value. They began to weave scarves and shawls. By increasing the volume of cloth made, another viable product was ensured, that of the silk cocoon itself. Villagers were permitted to collect the cocoons after the adults had emerged to sell to the spinners and weavers.

The women organized themselves into cooperatives as well to help promote the sale of their silk cloth (see Figure 18). With the help of governmental and non-governmental organizations, the sale of this cloth has been promoted.

Conclusion

Silk weaving in Madagascar has become vital in the re-establishment of the indigenous forests. This is not a frivolous pursuit, as it had become clear that this was a necessary step if the health of the original flora and fauna was to be assured. By establishing the economic value of the silk cloth, and thus by extension, the silk moth Borocera cajani that in turn relies on the tapia tree for sustenance, the circle is complete. The motivation for making it all happen is in place.

The fact that this silk cloth is made in the same manner used generations ago adds value and interest to the cloth. The fact that the cloth is coloured in a traditional manner using natural dyes is not lost on the client, nor is the fact that the yarn is spun on a hand spindle and the weaving is done on the traditional loom. These become added features of the shawls and scarves, increasing their monetary value in the global marketplace.

The last spoke in this wheel is a permanent market outside of Madagascar for the silk cloth, as the Malagasy market will become saturated at some point. They rely on an international purchasing public that will become increasingly aware of global issues and interested in ethical consuming.

References

Gade, D ‘Savanna woodland, fire, protein, and silk in Highland Madagascar’, Journal of Ethnobiology,vol 5 (2), 1985, pp. 109-122.

Green, R ‘Betsileo textiles: Negotiating identity between the living and dead’ in C Kasimba, J Odland and B Bronson (eds) Unwrapping the Textile Traditions of Madagascar. Los Angeles, CA: UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History, Los Angeles, CA, 2004, p. 73.

Appendix

Figure 1: Silk cocoons wetted out and ready for turning (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 2: Turning the cocoons, emptying out dried pupa remains. These cocoons are stacked 6-8 on top of each other (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 3: Boiling the cocoons (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 4: For special fabrics, the cocoons are submerged, inside a bag, within the compost pile. Boiling water is added periodically. The mix becomes soft and warm, creating a sumptuously soft silk fabric in the end (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 5: Preparing the fibre for spinning (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 6: Spinning the fibre using a top weighted spindle. The spindle is kept in motion by rolling along the thigh (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 7: Tools for skeining, filling bobbins and creating a warp. These tools are made within the community (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 8: Yarns dyed with locally available bark yields this burnished red colour. To soften the colour and create variability throughout, the yarns are rubbed and permitted to sit in ash from the fire place (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 9: This yarn has been dyed (in the right hand) and then sized with rice water, preparing it for warping (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 10: The skeined yarn is being unwound unto bamboo bobbins that will be used for creating the warp and for holding weft yarns during the weaving process (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 11: The warping process. Here she is creating the cross. The warp is continuous and corresponds to the length that the loom can achieve (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 12: The loom is wedged in a room within the house with the tension achieved by tying robes from the front beam to the corner posts. The back beam is held back by two posts also inserted into the supporting side boards. Note that the warp is continuous (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 13: The weaver sits on a cushion on the floor. The heddles are threaded onto to each loom around alternating warp ends after the warp is installed. The small hand held tool sitting on the warp is used to push down onto the warp ends when creating the next shed, thus increasing the separation (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 14: Ironing the finished silk cloth (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 15: Every house in the forest areas sells charcoal for cooking (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 16: The need for firewood is high, both within the household for cooking and as a commodity to sell to the surrounding neighborhood (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 17: A cage in the tapia forest, built over a tapia tree to provide food for the larvae while protecting them in this vulnerable stage (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

Figure 18: The sign announcing the women’s silk weaving co-operative in Soutanana (photographed by T. Jennings-Rentenaar).

[1] R Green,‘Betsileo textiles: Negotiating identity between the living and dead’ in C Kasimba, J Odland and B Bronson (eds) Unwrapping the Textile Traditions of Madagascar. Los Angeles, CA: UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History, Los Angeles, CA, 2004, p. 73.

[2] D Gade, ‘Savanna woodland, fire, protein, and silk in Highland Madagascar’, Journal of Ethnobiology,vol 5 (2), 1985, pp. 109-122.