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Episode 6 - Q&A 1

This week we do a Q&A, where I answer some questions about Onaki wildlife, clothing, education, holidays and calendar, and family life. If you would like to submit a question for the next Q&A, message me on Discord or send me an email.

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    Episode Script

    Note: This is not a direct transcript! This is the script I used to record the podcast audio. Some rephrasing or ommittance may have occured in the actual podcast, but the information remains by and large the same.

    Hello, and welcome to the History of Onaki.
    Episode 6, Q&A 1

    Last week on the history of Onaki we took a look at the reign of Ajimi, and her ultimate capitulation at the hands of Ponsaka and his faithful grandson Sulaton. However, this week we won't be continuing our narrative. I thought that as we are quite a few episodes in to the history of Onaki, we should pause to fill out this world with information beyond our state-centric narrative. In addition, I needed some time to cook up some art for the previous two episodes, and spent another week away on a work trip, which I proceeded to get sick on, and am still slightly sick at this moment. I still haven't quite caught my breath from the Christmas rush, and I made the mistake of trying to keep on a weekly schedule during that time. If you couldn't tell, writing, editing, and distributing a weekly podcast leaves frightening little time for me to create the art that I feel is necessary to truly illustrate the story we are telling. So, when I feel like I'm getting behind, I'll take some time off or do a smaller episode so I can catch up on all of the art that I've missed. I want to give you all the best possible experience I can while releasing consistently and frequently, and if that comes at the expense of a few lighter episodes here and there, that's how it will be. So, if you look on the episode pages for both episode 4, unfounded revenge, and episode 5, what could go wrong, on https://yamasztuka.com/onaki, you will find two portraits, one of Osaki, and one of Ajimi. I will strive to make a portrait of each Nelepa, it sounds like a fun time. In addition, I'll be adding some art illustrating some general Onaki fashion on this episode's page. I hope you will enjoy them.

    For this episode, I asked all of our viewers, yes, all two of them, for some questions on what they would like to know more about this period in time. Boy howdy, did they have them. Speaking of, based on my wonderfully collected analytics, 100% of the History of Onaki podcast's listeners at this time are women, aside from me of course. I choose to believe that Osaki's sheer majesty attracts a much different audience than your bog standard history podcast, which are usually a sausagefest. Anywho, in these Q&A episodes we will take a simple format. I will state the question asker, the question, and then answer to my best ability! To be clear I won't be answering questions about later Onaki history. Like other civilizations that have spanned millennia, later periods of time would be nearly unrecognizable from the states that were ultimately their origin. As such, I will seek to stay within the general time period we are discussing in the main episodes, to prevent confusion and hopefully provide a more sound narrative.

    Our first question is from Lucy, whose name coincidentally and suitingly sounds identical to the Onaki word for memory. She asks, "What is an organism unique to area around Onaki?" Great question Lucy. Since we haven't really expanded beyond the general vicinity of the Onaki Bay, I'll stick to probably the most prominent species that we will see in this early time, and perhaps throughout all of Onaki history. The Lumina is a mysterious object, not fully known to us now, or by the Onaki who would someday call it home. Its properties would affect not only those inside it, but also those outside it. But, before I explain that, we should probably talk about hats.

    A quite unique feature of Onaki dress was their choice of head covering. Hats were not unusual in ancient times whatsoever. Most arid and dry climates, such as throughout many regions in Elosuta, had cloth head coverings. Wide brimmed hats were also common in cultures within monsoon climates, especially in southwestern Hewonu. Onaki hats were certainly unique among them, with their distinct use of large mushroom caps acting as a hat. These mushroom caps took all sorts of shapes and sizes consisting of many species. Which species were quote-on-quote "in fashion" depended on who was in power, the person's profession, and the broader trends of the period. When cut off from the rest of the fungal body, supposedly the mushroom caps would quickly shrivel. However, if placed on someone's head, the cap would thrive, even healing when damaged, indefinitely. In some cases, it is said the mushroom cap took on the attributes of the wearer, or the other way round. It's unknown how this could have occurred in this era, and is likely some historical bleedthrough from the middle Onaki periods and onward, where this did occur. Although they can be removed, how else would you lay down in bed with a huge mushroom cap mounted to your scalp, it was often said that many would wear theirs indoors, and yes, even to bed. These mushroom caps were not small by any means, sometimes extending up to a meter in diameter. Their size was supposedly spurred on by the Lumina, which would be known for its fungal attributes later in history. Nowhere else but the vicinity around Onaki Bay were these large mushroom caps able to be cultivated or found in the wild, and neither could they be transplanted or grown outside the small region. Mushroom forests blanketed the regions outside the Lumina. It was said that if you attempted to grow an Onaki mushroom elsewhere, all you would receive would be a patch of disappointingly regular sized mushrooms. Due to the Lumina's absence, its no wonder why we have no such large mushroom caps to examine today. Thankfully, artwork and period writing does a lot of heavy lifting for us! Most mushroom caps were worn by farmers, sailors, and other outdoor laborers, primarily used as a form of protection from the sun and rain. Due to the absorbent nature of some fungus, certain varieties could be dipped in water to cool the air around the wearer. For blacksmiths and astronomers, slight transparencies in some fungus could allow the user to see materials or objects far too bright to normally observe with the naked eye. For the retired, a mushroom cap not only kept you cool and your skin healthy, but also conveniently hid your thinning and graying hair. In fact, speaking of such, wearing those big 'ol hats their whole lives, the Onaki had to have had excellent skin. I think Ponsaka should have chosen a larger cap for himself.

    Speaking of which, that parlays us directly into our next question, from me, Yamasztuka. They ask, "What type of clothing did the Onaki wear? How heavily did this clothing vary on class or occupation?" Well, thankfully I can tell you, me! The climate of Onaki was fairly hot during the summer, and winters are mild. You'll be hard pressed to find more than a few examples of snow remaining on the ground there. Thus, most residents of the city of Onaki dressed, how do I put it, with a draft. Onaki clothing consisted of simple, uncut, and unsewn pieces of cloth, which were draped, wrapped, or tied around the body in different ways. They used pins, buttons, or brooches to fasten the cloth, or belts or sashes to secure it. These components were generally made made of natural fibers, such as cotton, linen, or wool, dyed with various colors from plants or mollusks. A striking blue teal dye could be formed through the careful and meticulous processing of scallops, which thrived in the warm shallow waters of the Aloki. This cloth formed light and loose clothing that allowed air circulation and comfort, and avoided long or heavy garments that could hinder their movement or get wet easily.

    The Onaki clothing differed between men and women, and also changed according to the occasion. Men normally wore a tokata, a singular piece of cloth that wrapped around the waist, draping to the knees. They also wore a sowaki, a large piece of cloth that hung primarily over one shoulder and covering their chest and back, much like a poncho or cape. Women wore a hupila, a long and wide single piece of fabric that reached their knees, with most women also wearing belts or sashes, bands of cloth or leather that cinched their waist, holding the cloth in place. Some women also wore a kita, a long and narrow piece of cloth that wrapped around their shoulders and arms, much like a scarf. Both sexes typically wore sandals in the city, but in the winter and in the countryside, animal skin boots were far more common.

    Children wore generally similar styled clothing to their parents, but depending on the child's growth, could seem rather silly. Notoriously, second children would be stuck with handydown fabric either way too long, or far too small for them to hold up in the ruthlessness that are your peers in public school. The little sandals and boots we have preserved with us today are just adorable. For infants and other small children before they grew independent enough, not to mention potty trained, a smaller simple cloth just covering their private regions would do. When the cloth became dirty, which happened on the regular for the youngest, the cloth would be cleaned and replaced. In an attempt to prevent the cloth being too easily dirtied, parents would sometimes use moss as an absorbent. However, the chiggers found in moss on the ground could reportedly cause... problems I do not need to describe for you.

    For special events, such as religious ceremonies, festive celebrations, or military campaigns, the Onaki clothing became more ornate and colorful, especially among the higher classes. Men and women alike wore headdresses that adorned their mushroom caps, with feathers, shells, gemstones, or beads, that showed their rank and affiliation. They also wore jewelry, such as necklaces, bracelets, earrings, or rings, made of precious metals or gems, that displayed their wealth and status. Embroidery was common amongst the most elite of classes, illustrating their patron or other highly regarded deity. Members of the Luminala Celestia generally also adhered to these rules, with the exception of some celebrations where a ceremony participant would wear a mask, decorated with symbols or patterns of specific gods and goddesses.

    Okay, I think that's enough about cloth for now. I could keep blabbing for the rest of the episode. Our next question is from Lali. She asks, "How is education viewed and done? Is it more traditional in the sense of a trade being passed down from one family member to the next, is education for everyone, and what kind of opportunities are given?" Fantastic questions Lali. Education in Onaki is held as something vitally important for all people to achieve, so much so that one of the major guilds, the Academian Society, is fully dedicated to it. That being said, education in this time was not what we see today. As described in Episode 2, education was seen by the Onaki as being an important institution established by their founding leader, Eleno. This founding was certainly mythological, but illustrates to us just how important education was to the Onaki. It was viewed as a sacred duty and a privilege for all, as education is the means of preserving and transmitting the wisdom and traditions of the ancestors. As we know, ancestor veneration was quite common amongst the Onaki. It is also the way of developing the talents and abilities that Luminasuta had bestowed upon each individual, and of fulfilling one’s role and destiny in society.

    Education was done in different ways depending on the location and the availability of resources. In the city of Onaki itself, there were formal schools that were run by the Consortium, and sometimes independently by temples. Students would not be forced to enroll in these schools, but would be enrolled on the parent's discretion. Upon their enrollment, students would receive five years of free public education. Often times students began their education around the age of 6-7, and left five years following, at the age of around 11-12. These schools offered a curriculum that covered the fundamental basics, including reading and general literacy, writing, basic mathematics such as arithmetic and algebra, history, law, and the broader subject of "theology", which often incorporated astronomy and medicine. The schools were open to anyone who wished to attend, regardless of their social class or gender, as to the Onaki, anyone had the potential to thrive. Unfortunately, as the population of Onaki grew, the schools encountered a problem of limited capacity. This was solved through an interviewing process. A professor from the Academian Society would take a prospective student into a room for a private examination. The rules for this examination were... ill defined. It was reportedly up to the discretion of the test giver as to what the test contained. Most records show us that these tests generally, for most public schools, took the form of an examination on critical thinking. Prospective students would be orally quizzed on questions that required them to think outside the box, generally. Now remember, most prospective students would be around the ages of 6-7 when this was happening so don't set your expectations terribly high. In some cases, students with the most impressive showings would be sent to the most prestigious schools. These individuals would often turn out to be leaders in their respective guilds, or break into the Consortium. The religious schools reportedly relied on the same methods, but some sources indicate that some temples chose their students on a test of pain tolerance. Not a fan of that one, and I don't reckon the kids were either. The students who fail the exam can still attend private schools and tutoring, but they have to pay a quite hefty fee, and may not receive the same quality of education as the publicly schooled students. Private schools were often a backburner item for members of the Academian Society, as they were paid quite well for their time in the public sector. The students who complete the highest level of education, after those five years, could move onto specialized private schools if their professors found them adequate. These individuals, upon completion of their training, often became court officials, priests, scholars, lawyers, or other professionals.

    In the rural areas, formal education was less accessible and less standardized. There were no Consortium-funded schools, and the Onaki central government apparatus had less influence and authority in general. Rural public education in the rural areas was mostly provided by the local communities, who organized informal schools in their homes, shrines, or public buildings. Oftentimes a member of the Academian Society would be sent as a sort of educational missionary to rural communities, providing them methods of instruction and foundational curriculum. Most rural schools were run by volunteers, who may be mothers, retired elders, or local priests. As opposed to the formal and almost militaristic structure of the urban public schools, rural curriculum was more practical, focusing on just the basics of literacy and arithmetic, as well as the skills and knowledge related to the local trade and environment. School days were much shorter and less frequent, allowing children time to return home to assist their parents with their labor. In addition, due to the slim curriculum, students would often only attend school for two or at maximum three years. The students who excel in these schools may have the opportunity to travel to the cities and take the critical thinking exams for the urban schools, but this appeared to be rare, and costly for subsistence families who needed every hand they could get on their land.

    Due to all this, Onaki literacy was incredibly high for the time period. Although it is unknown what the expectation was in the rural regions and cities not fully brought into the Onaki fold, in the capital city itself, literacy was expected and often required for work. For this, they took great pride.

    Alright, our next question is from Lucy, yet again. She asks, "How does the calendar work? What days or periods are special holidays during the year?" We'll start with the very basics. We today use the Soli calendar, which bears almost no resemblance to the calendar used by the Onaki in this time, which has been dubbed by modern historians as the First Onaki Calendar. The Onaki were notoriously obsessed with astronomy, and who could blame them. The clockwork of Asaja and her moons, including that of the Earth, is almost magical. Their beautiful patterns were unmistakably meaningful, as astronomy would come to form the basis of Onaki religion for time immemorial to come. Due to this obsession with astronomy, the First Onaki Calendar would be quite accurate. The year would be 312 days long, with each day spanning about 27 hours. This number of 312 would be based on the solar year, which they actually pinned to a head, even in this time. Asaja's orbital period is just about 312.08, so it would take quite a number of years until people noticed that, hey, the seasons are, uh, not quite right. Not so coincidentally, Asaja happened to eclipse the sun every 9 hours, occurring one to two times each day depending on the amount of sunlight received. These eclipses would not last terribly long, usually only about 15 minutes. The exact length changed based on the inclination of Earth's orbit around Asaja when the eclipse occurred. Asaja's moons would sometimes eclipse the sun as well, but this happened quite rarely. In fact, one of the reasons we date the Battle of Osilusa Point to the date of 2174 is due to one of these eclipses falling during that year, matching with the Kanso records.

    The calendar is divided into eight seasons, each lasting about 39 days. These seasons were based on the changes in the environment, such as temperature, precipitation, or the behavior of organisms. The seasons are named after the dominant features of the landscape, those being White, Brown, Yellow, Flower, Wet, Ember, Purple, and Rest. In the Onaki language, these words translate to Puti, Kape, Nolan, Pulun, Jula, Ahi, Sijohan, and Soma. The season of Puti started the year, described as white due to the frost that would often appear on blades of grass on the coldest days. Snow hardly accumulated in the vicinity of the city, but when it did, I'm sure it made the name of this month all worth it. Kape was largely marked by leaves falling from the trees. Those of you from colder climates may be asking what in the world is this all about, but for those of you from warmer climates, you know that oak trees typically drop their leaves toward the end of the colder days. This of course parlays directly into the next season of Nolan, named after the yellow pollen which blankets anything and everything, to the extent of even turning closed bodies of water a tinge of yellow. This includes the worms which eat them, also almost glowing in a neon yellow. For those of you with allergies like myself, I'm sure you agree that this season is the worst. The next season of Pulun is marked by the first substantial showers of the year, knocking the pollen out of the air as the first flowers bloom. Flowering trees, especially cherry blossoms, flourish and blanket the city during this season. The next season, Jula, falls during the middle and frankly absurdly hot days. By this time the trees have regained their leaves in full, and afternoon thunderstorms begin to drench the city each afternoon, not to mention the completely humidity saturated air and threat of tropical cyclones picking up. This is of course followed by the even more absurdly hot days of Ahi, which is a word that means fire, ember, plasma, burn, etc. in the Onaki language. I'll let that definition do the talking. Then follows Sijohan, as some of Onaki's biggest and most delicious crops begin to be harvested, such as grapes, apples, and pomegranates, all bearing that purple hue. The last season is Soma, named as such due to the ending of the harvest season and start of the colder days, as most Onaki significantly slowed their working pace.

    These seasons would be divided into three weeks, each thirteen days long. Days would be numbered from one to twelve, where the thirteenth, also adequately named Soma, would be placed as a designated day for rest and rejuvenation. Even during the harvest season, everyone stopped to give themselves just a little love on Soma. Our modern sensibilities of course cry out at such a travesty of a work week. Twelve days without a day off? I'm grabbing my pitchfork! Not so quick there buddy. Although the work week of those in the city generally constituted "whatever it takes to survive", for most farmers, they only worked about 120 days tending to their fields. The other 190 were spent raising their families, repairing what needed getting done, taking care of themselves, being human, and, of course, also spent doing some celebrating. The Onaki *loved* their holidays. These would vary across time, but I can list off for us the most ancient of these holidays to give us a little baseline of what life would have been like in our period.

    Both solstices, named the Puti Solstice and Jula Solstice based on the months they occurred in, coincided with weeklong feasts and celebrations. The Puti Solstice in particular marked the beginning of the new year, quite a good date to pick if I do say so myself. We have already described New Year's traditions in Episode 4.5, so I will spare you from a rerun. But for the forgetful of you, the two days preceding and day of the solstice were feast days, celebrating the cycle of life, allowing a noble passing for those who wished it, and dedicated patrons for those born in the previous year. Other than these two celebratory days, most holidays were non-celestial in nature, surprisingly. The word for celebration, feast, festival, party, etc. in the Onaki language was kusi, so when you hear the words kusi ki, you know I am describing a festival of some sort. First, either on the last week of Puti or the first week of Kape, occurred kusi ki pune, the festival of red. This holiday was named as such due to the harvest of strawberries, which occured around this time. Strawberry dishes were popularly sold on the street, often mashed into jams or into pureed drinks. For the wealthy, ice was brought down from the Nika territories, which would be included with these pureed strawberries for a cold and sweet beverage. The next major holiday was throughout the first week of Nolan, kusi ki sakan, the festival of fertility. This festival had two purposes, signifying both the notorious reproduction of the oak trees and of human beings. Women and men who wished to conceive would, for the duration of the festival, deprive themselves of something they loved. It was said that the more you took away, the more your body and spirit could focus on what remained, which was the desire for a child or to start a family. After these twelve days of fasting, an attempt at conception would be made on the day of Soma. Afterwards, now at the end of the week-long period, the couple could once again partake in what they loved. Next was kusi ki taluna, the festival of rebirth. This holiday occurred within the middle week of Pulun, where people cleaned their homes, paid off debts, decorated their homes with flowers and fruits, and cooked floral dishes. On the thirteenth day of Soma, extended family would gather for a large feast day, celebrating the start of rejuvenating warmth.

    After this festival, things slow a bit down in Onaki. The seasons of Jula, Ahi, and most of Sijohan are brutally hot, and I cannot understate this. Temperatures regularly reached about 35 degrees Celsius, or 95 degrees Fahrenheit, during the day. Compounded by 95-100% humidity, the heat index could climb into 50 degrees Celsius, or 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Wet bulb temperatures sometimes shot up past 65 degrees Celsius, or about 150 degrees Fahrenheit, when the conditions were truly saturated. On these days, even for people adapted to the heat, experiencing temperatures like this could be deadly. Afternoon thunderstorms often provided a temporary cool-off, but when the sun came back out again, the evaporating water from the cobbled streets only made the temperature more miserable. Diving into the Aloki or Onaki Bay might be enticing, but be careful, as the water temperature commonly exceeded the air temperature. It was described by ancient authors that Onaki summers were like breathing directly into a hot, wet sponge, or breathing in a hot soup. Residents would commonly sleep in hammocks hung outside a window or on their porch, as the inside of Onaki homes would not cool down fully in the evenings. Needless to say, people weren't exactly in the mood for celebrating, most of the time. However, the summer solstice was one of those holidays that was celebrated, typically by... turning the water fountains of the city into tea. I'm not joking. The temperature of the fountains got so hot that tea could be brewed in them quite easily. Slender boats would also be raced around the bay, providing quite the spectacle.

    On the last week of Sijohan, kusi ki tula was celebrated, translating to the festival of fruit. This holiday period signified the end of the harvest season and the largest feasting of the year, with the exception of the winter solstice feasts, of course. Post-feast, rotten produce, especially gourds like pumpkins which are quite satisfying to squash, get it, are lobbed into the streets from the top of buildings and into the bay. I'd argue its an inefficient and ultimately wasteful way of dealing with an abundance of produce, but hey, they seemed to enjoy it a whole lot. One more recurring holiday I almost forgot to mention was the kusi ki pisen, the festival of convergence. This referred to the point when Asaja's two other moons fell in perfect resonance with the Earth so that they both aligned in the night sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and its relative infrequency, happening only every 28 years and 187 days, made for up to two weeks of festivities. On the night of the alignment, lanterns would be released into the air from all across the empire, making for a beautiful scene as the populace gazed up at the sheer wonder of the world they were blessed to inhabit.

    Okay! Final question, this one is from Lali. She asks, "I'm curious what family life is like. Is matriarchy consistent in the family hierarchy or only the government, and do they have big families, or does it vary?" I'd love to break down the family, including marriage, rites of passage, and such, but we're simply running out of time, so we'll have to hit those in the next Q and A. Now, although two of our Nelepas thus far have been women, Onaki is certainly not a matriarchy. However, this is not to say it is a patriarchy either. As audacious as it is to say, the Onaki didn't quite seem to care whether a woman or a man led them. In fact, I would argue that the female leaders of Onaki were generally better at their job, where the boys went of running around with swords conquering all over ishkabib, women generally focused more on improving things at home. In the same way, the family wasn't patriarchal. In marriage, neither the husband or wife were absorbed into one or the other's families. They both merged together, choosing a new name for their family, usually based on a common ancestor or patron. In addition, mothers and fathers typically both worked once their children were at a self sufficient age. In some relationships, the father would tend to the children on half of the days, and the mother the other half. Remember, work schedules, clock-in times, the 8 hour work day, all of this was foreign for pretty much all of history until relatively recently. People did what they needed to to get by, and to provide the best for their families. For them, it seemed both parents bore an equal burden to bear in the raising of the child. As for family size, this seemed to vary mostly on urban and rural lines. For many couples in the city, a child was out of the question economically, and many couples remained without families. However, for most, it seemed the average family count was around two and a half children, give or take. Now, keep in mind, what we are referring to are only children which lived past the age of ten. The majority of children did not, so a family with two children living to adulthood could have conceivably birthed four or five children in total. This was just the state of the world at the time, I'm sorry to say. In the countryside, family sizes were much higher to cope with higher workloads. Family sizes could easily see four to five children on a homestead born to one set of parents. You can do the math on the child mortality for that total. For wealthy families, especially those in the Consortium, you may expect wealth to correlate to less children. In fact, that could not be further from the truth. There are records of wealthy Onaki families of up to a dozen children in size. Their access to better foodstuff and a cleaner living environment led to lower child mortality rates, not to mention specialized professionals were available to help with births. This help probably did about as much good as a cheerleader would in today's hospital rooms, but I digress. Food was plentiful, and as were private assistants and slaves to help raise the children, while the father and mother were busy running the Onaki state apparatus. No wonder some of those kids turned out to be completely bonkers.

    Alright, I think that does it for this episode. And to think I thought this one would be a bit shorter for me! Ah well. My love for Onaki is so strong I just can't bring myself to write a smaller episode. Next week we will jump back into the narrative, as we take a look at Sulaton's background. After that, we'll take a glimpse at his first years in office. There will be a lot more to come, trust me.

    By the way, before the end of this episode, I have to shout out our two most wonderful viewers, Lucy and Lali. They are both amazing artists, and I must recommend you check out their work. You can find Lucy on her personal website https://ceionia.com, where she publishes her work on fascinating conlangs, and her programming in languages that she really could have done a lot easier with like Python or something, but that takes the fun out of things doesn't it. If any of the proceeding information confused you, please visit https://ceionia.com/explanation. You can find Lali on Tumblr under the username lalidraws, where she posts wonderful character art, and frogs who should probably not have access to the magical powers they almost certainly possess. If that sounds like your fancy, please check out their stuff! They are great supporters of this podcast, and all my thanks and love go out to them.