While filming the documentary TASA – Traditional Techniques, Contemporary Solutions, I spoke with shepherd José Mestre as he tended his flock of sheep grazing in the Serra de Tavira, between Cachopo and Vaqueiros, not far from the Alentejo region.
He told me about the carders and spinners who used to work there, and how many artisans once wove blankets from sheep’s wool. When his mother passed away, she left him several wool blankets, which he still uses today.

“My mother—God rest her soul—made blankets and left them to her children. There were four of us. Each of us got blankets to cover ourselves with while we’re still alive. These days, if someone wanted to make a blanket like that, there’s no one left to card the wool or to spin it. A blanket like that, made of wool, is worth three cotton ones!”
Then a friend of his showed up on a motorbike and stopped for a few minutes to greet us and chat. Few people pass through those parts, so every bit of conversation counts.

They are part of a generation that still lived alongside those who worked in wool craftsmanship. The shepherd recalled that in Castro Verde, in Lombador, and especially in Sete, everyone practiced the trade. The tradition was so deeply rooted it was as if children were taught before they were even born.

“That’s just a saying, you understand? But back then… there was nothing else. No jobs, no other way, and they were just little kids coming out of school—they already went to school back then—and afterward, they had nothing else to do, so they’d go with their fathers… with these tiny little carding combs; they’d start the roll and the father would finish the carding! Just so they could eat… Later on, the fathers would carry a tank for dragging, and the kids ate right there, wherever they were. That’s what they did for a month or two each season, carding wool. That’s how the families from Sete and Lombador lived. They were all carders!”

But that was long ago. Times have changed, and José Mestre knows this well.
The friend didn’t stay long and was soon on his way. The shepherd called to his dog, asking her to fetch the flock on the other side of the hill. Nônô circled the sheep, gathering them and guiding them back to where her master had asked.
We talked a little longer. He asked me questions about what I did, what I knew, where I was from… and a bit later, I too continued my journey to carry on with the filming of TASA.
There are people we meet who make us stop, who hold us still. They surprise us. And with them, we learn a lot. Truly. That’s what happened that day with José Mestre, while crossing the Serra de Tavira.