Basque ethnography at a glance

José Arteta, the last of the taloaska makers. Author: Felix Mugurutza.

Until about four decades ago, before the disappearance of traditional shepherding, one of the most prized possessions of the shepherds from Gorbeia was the taloaska. It was, together with the makila (walking stick), the element that shepherds were most proud to show off in their huts, the most highly valued asset.

The taloaska is basically a kind of rectangular kneading trough, with a handle at one end, and it was used to knead the talo (similar to a Mexican corn tortilla) that was eaten during those endless stays in the sheepfold, as a substitute for bread, as it was only eaten when strictly necessary. Bread could not be made in the mountains, but the versatile talo could.

In addition, the taloaska was used as a container in which to eat the beans or broad beans that made up the daily diet. And, given its large size, it was common for several shepherds to eat in it together, with one spoon per head, but sharing the container. Thus, the taloaska was an object that reinforced socialization, sharing and meeting in those places where loneliness was the worst enemy.

The fact that the taloaskas were made of wood led us to think, on the few occasions that they were mentioned in ethnographic studies, that they were an ancient relic, even Neolithic, similar to how other pastoral utensils such as the kaiku (wooden container used to collect milk), abatza (wooden container for the making of cheese), malatsa (wooden whisk, used for the manufacturing of cheese), etc. were interpreted.

However, despite the suggestive nature of the object, we do not know of any research on the subject, not even a cataloging of the elements that have survived to the present day. In this state of affairs, we are going to make some proposals so that when we go to the network of networks, we can find some content that does not exist today.

Well then. Despite the fact that, decades ago, we were seduced by the unfathomable antiquity of the taloaskas, there are several aspects that make us reconsider their origin. On the one hand, the fact that their use, although intense, is limited to the Gorbeia massif makes us suspicious. If it had been a pastoral object of great antiquity, it would undoubtedly have been extended to other areas of pastoral activity.

Taloaskas of Gorbeia. Author: Felix Mugurutza.

The same is true of its name, which has a strong echo all along the Gorbeia mountain range, but is unknown outside it. Evidently, it comes from talo (corn flour tortilla) + aska (container). And, in our case, we chose to write it as a single word because of its unique accent and because its variant talaska is well known. The term talo itself, like the consumption of cornin the surrounding valleys, dates back no further than the 18th century.

Apart from the shepherds, the charcoal burners were the other workers who frequented the mountain. However, unlike the first group, they did not have a stable hut, as they were itinerant depending on the charcoal-making areas. It was also more difficult to transport fragile crockery to eat. The charcoal burners were also by far the biggest consumers of talo, as it represented a nutritious meal.

The corpus of the historical Basque lexicon also seems to confirm this: we can see that together with the term talo we find words such as talo-txabil, talo-mutil or talo-atzu, all in reference to elements of tree wood on which the charcoal burners worked the dough to make talo. There is no reference to shepherding use, not even the term taloaska.

Given that the Gorbeia massif was an area of intense charcoal making in the 19th and early 20th centuries, there is no doubt in my mind that our taloaskas, those tools for kneading talo, were made by charcoal makers and then adapted by shepherds in the aforementioned centuries. In other words, they would be relatively modern pieces.

Apart from all this, there was a great liturgy among the shepherds surrounding their manufacture and care. And, in conversations with them, each one seemed to treasure the great secret that he did not want to share with the others.

I had the good fortune to interview the last and perhaps most famous of the taloaska makers, José Arteta Lili, weeks before he passed away. He made shepherd’s taloaskas following the guidelines of his father, who also made them.

Sheperd Luis Larrea in his hut, 2011. Author: Felix Mugurutza.

They were always made from beech wood and, José said, the most important thing was that it was made from pollarded beech, as it was the stronger wood. Of course, it had to be cut during the lunar waning and in winter. Before it dried out, the chosen trunk was split into eight pieces, using wedges. The heart part of the trunk was removed, because the outer part, the part closest to the skin, was tougher.

With the help of an axe, the piece was shaped and hollowed out with a chisel. The inner part was always made first and then the outer part was adjusted. But the great fear of every maker and shepherd was that the wood would crack, which was very common. For this reason, Arteta always kept the wood in the coolest possible place, covered, so that it would dry as slowly as possible. Also, during the manufacturing process, the wood was placed in sacks made of wood.

I have also gathered from other shepherds the custom of smearing it continuously with tallow for its maintenance. The smoke from the shacks gave them the final touch of color which, it is believed, also protected them.

Finally, I consider myself lucky to have kneaded talo in a taloaska in those smoking shacks in Gorbeia or to have shared some beans in them with a shepherd or two. It was not very hygienic, but I can certify that it was the most sublime sensation in the world.

Felix Mugurutza – Researcher