An Irishwoman's Diary

I've never quite accepted the "six degrees of separation" theory in spite of pretty convincing tests by mathematicians and sociologists…

I've never quite accepted the "six degrees of separation" theory in spite of pretty convincing tests by mathematicians and sociologists. First proposed by Hungarian writer Frigyes Karinthy in his short story Chains in 1929, it suggests that anyone on earth can be connected to any other person through a chain of acquaintances involving no more than five intermediaries.

However, a couple of recent e-mails suggest those "small world" clichés are right after all. The first is from Annie Dibble, lecturer at the National College of Art and Design's department of fashion and textiles, in relation to a project her students have embarked on. The second, more recent contact concerns an art auction taking place this afternoon in Letterkenny, Co Donegal.

So, one might guess that some artist is the common link? Well,not quite, but read on. Earlier this year, Dibble spent a month working with street children in Kathmandu, Nepal. During her time there she became fascinated by nettle weaving. The material derives from the Himalayan giant nettle, known as allo, which has been used for generations to make ropes, sacks, mats, cast-nets and clothing.

In fact, weaving fibres from the allo's relation, the common nettle, was once practised in these parts, according to an authority on the subject, Susi Dunsmore.

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At up to 12 foot, the allo is much larger than our indigenous species, and collecting, spinning and weaving it is still a group activitiy in the foothills of the Himalaya. Harvesting with the traditional Nepalese knife, the kukri, and the sickle, or hansiya,begins around the end of the monsoon season in August and September, and continues until the plants begin to flower in December. Harvesters protect their hands with a bundle of cloth, and the cut stems are often left for a few days, to reduce the potency of those stinging hairs, before fibres are extracted.

Dibble met members of the Rai community who collect the giant stingers, and observed how the best woven samples of fibres were sent to a small weaving factory in Kathmandu run by men from the Khumbu district. Inspired by what she saw, she decided to set up a project with eight NCAD students, designing fabrics using allo handspun yarns.

"It has been some experience," Dibble says. "The students have just finished weaving, and we plan to send some samples back to a group called Folk Nepal. Our aim is to develop the yarns and encourage the nettle's production for the benefit of our Nepalese partners. The international fashion industry is enthusing about natural fibres, and there has been much emphasis on banana, pineapple and hemp. But we're hoping we can help promote the wonderful qualities of this particular plant."

Annie Dibble and the Donegal poet Cathal Ó Searcaigh haven't met, but he has been taking a similarly philanthropic approach to friends he made out east. Ó Searcaigh has been enchanted by Nepal since he first travelled there for a TG4 documentary with the writer, mountaineer and broadcaster Dermot Somers. "Yes, the mountains were the initial attraction but then I found that the communities were, in fact, far more interesting," he says.

Ó Searcaigh returns there regularly, has adopted a son, Prem, there, and is currently sponsoring the education of up to 15 Nepalese people. "Some are training to be cooks, some to be waiters, others are doing degrees and I think I must have bought between 200 to 300 water filters over the past few years. Clean water is always an imperative," he says. "However, the Maoist upheavals have put even greater strain on water systems in Kathmandu as many more people from rural areas have moved into the city."

Ó Searcaigh is not part of any registered charity, and his financial contribution is entirely personal. As a poet, he doesn't have a large purse, but fellow artists and writers have decided to support his efforts by contributing to a fine art auction which he is hosting this afternoon in An Grianán Theatre, Letterkenny.

Over 80 works include framed manuscript excerpts from writings by John Banville, John McGahern, Brian Friel, Seamus Heaney and Frank McGuinness, while musicians Micheál Ó Suilleabháin, John Sheehan and others have contributed notations. Artists Alice Maher, Maria Simonds Gooding, Alice Maher, Sean McSweeeney and colleagues have participated, and Ó Searcaigh is particularly struck by Robert Ballagh's Himalayan image, entitled The Roof of the World. Principal organisers with

Ó Searcaigh are An Gailearaí, Falcarragh, and they have been accepting online bids all week since a reception to highlight the event in Letterkenny last Monday. At that event, Ó Searcaigh was delighted to receive yet another contribution - a donation of small pieces of rock collected close to Everest's summit by Irish climber Humphrey Murphy, who earlier this year recorded the eighth successful Irish ascent of the mountain, with no Sherpa support and no big fanfare.

Ó Searcaigh returns to Nepal in several weeks, and will stay and write there for the next three months. One of the friends he hopes to catch up with is a fellow poet, Dhan Bahadur Rai, familiarly known as Dhana. Dhana was cook on the first Irish Everest expedition of 1993, of which Dermot Somers was a member, and visited Ireland after that event. He is central to a loose cultural bond that has developed between Ireland and Nepal.

Another few knots have now been woven into that bond, and here's where the six-degree theory comes in. Dhana was also Annie Dibble's contact when she went out to Kathmandu. His mother was a highly experienced nettle weaver.