The Beauty Of Thatch

Ever since we moved to Athimanjeri, I have admired the elegance of thatched roofs and wanted to experience the joy of building one. They are made with all local and natural materials and by local people. This appealed to me very much. Some old houses here have thatched roofs that are over twenty years old.

Before we could start constructing our house on the farm, we needed a sheltered space close to the building site. So we decided to build it the local way. I scouted the nearby areas for unused ancient stone posts. People here used to live in traditional thatch houses before moving into their modern concrete blocks. So it was not very difficult to find 12’ and 6’ posts (the center posts are twice as tall as the side ones, so that we achieve a 45 degree slope for laying thatch).  

Our basic rectangular structure consists of stone posts erected along the periphery.  A ridge beam (a thick palm log cut in half) is placed on the center posts and sleepers are placed on the side ones. Eaves are made of palm rafters by jointing two rafters with a nut and bolt. The joint is placed on the ridge beam and the loose ends are placed on the sleepers. The eaves are 2’ – 3’ apart. Long sticks of a local tree called oodaga(Telugu)  or avunji (Tamil) are used as purlins. This wood is pliable, light-weight and termite resistant. The purlins are sometimes nailed to the rafters. Mostly they are tied with a vine called karuppu-kodi or with jute rope.  Purlins are about a foot apart. Once the framework is in place, woven coconut fronds (keethu) are laid on it going from bottom to top. This forms a mat on which thatching is done. 

The picture below shows the keethu roof from inside the structure:

Lemon grass is used widely in our area for thatching. This is a cluster grass that grows wild after the rains. Each cluster can grow up to 6’. Mature grass is harvested and made into bundles of approximately 10 cm diameter. These bundles are trimmed at the bottom before use, as shown in the picture below:

The grass is tied to the existing keethu framework using young date palm fibers (kasangu). First, the ends of young date palm fronds are cut off and then the leaf is divided in half. The “spine”, or stem,  is softened by running it along a hard surface, as shown below:

Prepared kasangu have to be kept moist. Dried ones can’t be used for tying purposes. 

Before thatching can start, all the edges of the roof need to be raised. Long oodaga/avunji sticks are encased in lemon grass to form long and sturdy bundles. These are now tied to the bottom-most purlin:

Unwoven coconut fronds can also be used to create this bund. 

The first layer of lemongrass bundles (tightly tied) is placed on this bund. The top part of these bundles are pressed down with the oodaga/avunji purlins and sewn using kasangu. A thick long iron needle is used to sew. During this first step of the thatching process, the thatcher stands just outside the structure aligning himself to the edge that he will be working on; he has a helper standing inside the structure. The thatcher pokes the roof sending the needle inside with a kasangu fiber. His helper standing under the roof, releases the needle by holding on to the kasangu fiber. The thatcher yanks the needle out and pierces the roof again, a few inches away from the earlier point. The helper re-threads the needle with the kasangu end that he is holding on to. The thatcher yanks out the needle again; with the kasangu that he just received, he ties the grass to the purlin tightly. While such natural fibers are used, instead of tying a knot, thatchers usually twist the strands tightly and push the twisted pair into one of the strands that is being tied. Knots are not used since the fibres can break off. 

After tying the first layer of bundles, the thatcher climbs up, sits on the roof for the rest of the process. He receives the bundles (loosely tied) that are tossed by his helper, who is on the ground. Once he receives a bundle, he unties it and lays the loose grass 6”-8” from the bottom of the previous layer. He obsessively arranges this new grass by interlocking it with the existing material. He has a homemade “bat” that is used to beat the bottom part of the new grass, to push it up, snug and neat into place.

After completing this process end to end on one side for one layer, the team moves on to the other side. The roof is loaded evenly.

To cover the ridge cap, a nice platform is first built using short and fat leftover purlin sticks. One side of these short sticks are made pointy and they are poked (1’ apart) on either side of the ridge beam. These sturdy purlins that stick out form a platform on which a cap can now be placed. The cap consists of three layers, from bottom to top:

•  keethu tied in pairs and spread out like wings on either side leaving the center part exposed;

• Lemon grass bundles at the ends (front and back of the structure) to form the apex and lemon grass laid loose in the middle running the entire span, between the two ends

• Keethu pairs covering the lemon grass below. This layer is tied securely from one end to the other using the purlin stakes that are sticking out, in a zig-zag manner

This structure has been our primary storage during house construction; it has also served as a resting area. It has been a source of great pleasure for me to see the construction workers rest here after lunch.

An expert thatcher Subramani is in his mid-seventies. We call him Anna (meaning “older brother”). I find his dedication toward work infectious. He once told me that good work fills him up and so he doesn’t mind skipping meals at such times. During this project he used to show up at our place by 5:30 a.m. He walks 3 k.m. to get to our place. He starts his work before sunrise and breaks around 10 a.m. to have some idli. He chews on tobacco and areca nut while at work. He takes a short nap after lunch and resumes work. Typically he works till sunset. He is quite comfortable climbing heights, doing extended hours of physical labour, working in the scorching heat (it was 110-115 F, when we were thatching). We have had visitors that are one-third his age who have difficulty doing a fraction of the physical labour that Anna does!

Unfortunately, there are very few thatchers now in this area. The next generation won’t take it up. I fear that this ancient skill may soon not be available. Like with many indigenous skills and ways of living, it is looked down upon to live in a thatch house. Subramani Anna has built hundreds of thatch houses and structures. He acknowledges that thatch roof is  cool  and ideal for our hot summers. Yet, he doesn't want to live in a thatch house for fear of being looked down upon. He once told me that his children wouldn't have got married if he had lived in a thatch house! He said that it was considered as a sign of poverty and nobody would marry in to such a family.

- Hema