Posts tonen met het label ethnobotany. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label ethnobotany. Alle posts tonen

vrijdag 5 juli 2013

A foraging poem by Gary Snyder + commentary

Here is a poem by Gary Snyder from his book Turtle Island (1975).
ETHNOBOTANY
In June two oak fell,
rot in the roots

Chainsaw in September
in three days one tree
bucked and quartered in the shed

sour fresh inner oak-wood smell
the main trunk splits
"like opening a book" (J. Tecklin)

And slightly humping oak leaves
deer muzzle and kick it,
Boletus.
one sort, Alice Eastwood
pink and poison; 
Two yellow, edulus
"edible and choice."
only I got just so slightly sick --
Taste all, and hand the knowledge down.


Commentary 

* The entire poem is an allusion to Ezra Pound's "The flavors of the peach and the apricot are not lost from generation to generation. Neither are they transmitted by book learning."

* Quoting Snyder from the same volume: "Know the flowers.

* Know the flowers, by what name? And which system?

* Can there exist a botany without books & book learning?   

* Foragers only trust other foragers who have tried things for themselves. Who know the where and the what and the how of plants.

* All foragers all moralists.

* All botany is ethnobotany / all botany is culture. 

* Find your own flavours and hand them down to the next generation.

* "I must create a system or be enslaved by another man's." - William Blake

maandag 6 februari 2012

The primitive savage as a class-A naturalist

Columbian Desana constructing a trap.
The following quote is taken from 'Cosmology as Ecological Analysis' (PDF-link) by Gerardo Reichel-Dolmatoff (earlier, earlier). It reiterates a point that has been made before and before and before: to be successful as a hunter-gatherer you need to be a keen naturalist. Reichel-Dolmatoff's unique contribution is in the how he shows that the stories and superstitions of 'primitive' people make-up a well-argued and consciously operated ecological strategy. 
Among the Indians there is usually little interest in new knowledge that might be used for exploiting the environment more effectively and there is little concern for maximising short-term gains for obtaining more food or raw materials than are actually needed. But there is always a great deal of interest in accumulating more factual knowledge about biological reality and, above all, about what the physical world requires from man. This knowledge, the Indians believe, is essential for survival because man must bring himself into conformity with nature if he wants to exist as part of nature's unity, and must fit his demands to nature's availabilities.

Animal behaviour is of the greatest interest to the Indians because it often constitutes a model for what is possible in terms of successful adaptation. On the one hand the Indians have a detailed knowledge of such aspects as seasonal variation and micro-distributions of the animal and plant species of their habitat. They have a good understanding of ecological communities, of the behaviour of social insects, bird flocks the organisation of fish schools, the patterns of fish runs, and other forms of collective behaviour. Such phenomena as parasitism, symbiosis, commensalis, and other relationships between co-occurring species have been well observed by them and are pointed out as possible models of adaptation. On the other hand, myths and tales abound with accounts of visits to the animal world, of people turning into animals in order to learn more about their habits, or of animals teaching men how to make use of certain resources.

donderdag 7 april 2011

Herbologies / Foraging Networks



The ongoing 'Herbologies / Foraging Networks' has taken up the challenge of (urban) reinhabitation with a number of events, publications, projects. The introduction, compact and thorough, stresses the need for a personal relations between people and their surroundings, observes the loss of traditional knowledge concerning plants and their uses in the span of a generation, but it also finds that this knowledge is still of continued importance in some places, often to those people regarded by the forces of power as backwards and primitive. The introduction also tries to answer the question why a practise like forage, something regarded as completely outdated only 5/10 years ago, is now suddenly of interest to a large group of people who have never acquired the knowledge involved through the normal tribal and familial channels.
Younger people’s interest in sustainable food production and environmental awareness appears to be creating a revived interest in local and ecological use of plants, between these different places and beyond. For those in their teens, 20’s and 30’s, online information, data and social networking sites have also become the main communication and sharing medium. In addition, do-it-yourself/ourselves ‘maker’ culture has blossomed in recent years thanks to audio-visual culture, and in particular participatory platforms which support digital image or video-sharing. For example, Instructables and Maker Magazine are strongly based on community-created content, with images and videos uploaded to show how to make objects, components, hacks and other adjustments in the physical material world. This trend is also extending to ‘grower’ and ‘forager’ sites, which share example recipes and activities. However, the content is often English-language focused, creating linguistic and cultural biases in how to do things, without localisation or context-specific adjustment. Furthermore, when these materials are based on traditional indigenous knowledge, issues are raised about how it should be appropriately published. 


My favourite project is the Herbologies Expedition to Aizpute and Alsunga in Kurzeme, rural towns in Western Latvia that took place in June 2010. 
The main topics for the herbologies expedition included how to recognise, gather and use wild plants and flowers for: teas, infusions, tinctures, sauna whisks/besoms, home-made herbal cosmetics, midsummer crowns from wild flowers and oak-leaves, as well as the ‘pharmacy’ of plants found outside in nature.
The resulting bilingual Exercise Book of Traditions 2010 shows that one logical result of the modernday foraging revival is that it will leads the forager into the domain of ethnography and ethnobotany. That the H/F Network is recognized as artisticlly relevant by the arts, see for instance this interview with Rhizome.org, echoes earlier developments like ethnographic surrealism. After 50 years of siegheiling technology the revolution of the human mind again becomes the main subject of art. The savage is the teacher, the primitive is the preacher. 

At the risk of ephasising the exotic and the Harry Potteresque I am including two recipes/remedies from the book here. Not for the sake of exoticness but because it shows how strange and undiscovered the world still is. Even here in domesticated and unified Europe.
Cow’s dung
I was given cow’s dung with milk.
Well, and how was that?
No problem, because I read in one magazine, that the cow’s dung is pure penicillin.
Penicillin?
Yes! The cow eats grass and then it processes it into dung as penicillin. And then with warm milk. You squeeze it out. You don’t need much, about some 3-4 drops into the warm milk and then it is ready to drink.
Oh, so You don’t eat it with the grounds?
No, then you’d be dead!
But, for example, do You need to have the cow’s dung fresh?
Fresh, yes! Just when it has defecated, you must immediately take the dung and squeeze it in a gauze.
That moist thing, that is left behind?
Yes, that moist thing, you squeeze that and put into warm, just milked milk. Warm milk, warm dung – and then you must drink that. I know that my mother gave it both in the morning and in the evening.
But did she tell, what that was, or didn’t she?
Yeah, right, as if she would tell! She says: ”There’s nothing, just honey with milk.” But you don’t imagine that a child sees anything there, some green thing floating or anything. My daughter, she had caught a cold and my neighbour had a cow and then I was running back and forth healing my doctor [the daughter].
With the dung?
With the dung and warm milk. The son-in-law comes: “Mum, what are you giving her? also don’t feel so good”. And I just make another.
And don’t they know anything?
No, I told them.
Before or after that?
No, when they had drunk that already. The son-in-law says: “I didn’t feel anything – that there would be a dung in it!”

Snakes and toads
My dad smeared it on his legs, hips... My mother put the snakes, the vipers in a jar with vodka. When she went to the woods and stumbled upon a viper, then she ‘hapc!’ pressed
them with a crutch and let them into the jar.
You press it’s head?
Yes, and let it into the jar alive. Then she, when she’s done, rushes home and pours vodka over it.
When it’s alive?
Yes. Vodka and then she packed the jar and put it in a dark chamber. And then later there was nothing left of that snake. Pure vodka, only a bit of clouds underneath. Well and she prepared also the toad. I don’t know if she put it in alive or not, because I never saw that, I saw it only then when she took it out of the oven and ground a powder in the mill.
And did she give that powder to the animals?
Yes, she mostly gave it to the animals.
And what was it good for?
I think that it was for the pigs. My mother says: “The pigs contract Diamond’s disease”.
In order to avoid that, because the sows were being kept and the piglets were sold. So that the piglets would be healthy. I also know that it was used for the cow. I only saw that she prepared something, crossed herself, messed about and – a bucketful is ready! The cow eats that. She [mother] made a lot of tricks like that.

donderdag 16 december 2010

Forage superstition



Helena Valero was kidnapped by Yanomami at the age of twelve. She lived with them in the Venezuelan Amazon for 24 years before returning to an unwelcoming 'civilized' world: "I though that everything would be different among the white men". It wasn't. Italian anthropologist Ettore Biocca recorded Valero's story and turned it into a narrative autobiography that was first published in Italian in 1965. It is an extraordinary account from inside the shabono and it portrays Amazonian Indian communities with an intimate and alienating detail: can we really understand these people? Superstition seems to be the glue of daily life and the abundance of it does not portray the Yanomami in a friendly way to our Western priggish sensibilities that demand fact and reason. But of course superstition is just another aspect of forage psychogeography. When your means of subsistence, no matter the amount of skill, intelligence and knowledge that is involved, depends on luck (the presence of game) all societies develop intricate systems that try to urge chance to choose your side. Sports is a good example in our society: football players are not allowed to have sex the night for a big match and they all have lucky shirts they may never be washed etc. Reichel-Dolmatoff points out that the taboos are not in themselves important but that a large set of do and don't force you to pay close attention to everything you do, even when you are not doing something special, and this prepares you for the times that heightened awareness of your surrounding is of vital importance.

Yanoama is not just a classic of anthropology, it is also a classic of ethnopoetics; here is the defining mixture of an oral Amazonian language and its narrative conventions mixed with the language of an outsider who got as far as anybody can become an insider. Valero accuracy has been often praised, memory is the birthright of the illiterate. 
Rohariwe decided to prepare curare and began to speak aloud in the shapuno, just as the priest does in his sermon: "I shall prepare mamocori; anyone who has none may now learn how to make it; if anyone has some, let him go on the track to watch out against the enemy. Let everybody listen to me; no one must go and misbehave with a woman tonight. I shall then try mamocori on a monkey; if the monkey does not die, it will mean that you have been with women during the night; in that case, the next time I shall chase you all out and make my poison myself. 
The superstition here is clear, and there is more of it:
The next morning, all the men who had come to prepare the curare had painted themselves black with coal on the face, on the body, on the legs, because they said curare is useful for war. They didn't eat that day: they said that the woman who stayed to watch must not bathe, because the poison would no longer kill animals or men. Pregnant woman must not be present because, they said, the babies whom they carried in their stomachs make water on the poison and the poison becomes weak. They do not begin preparing the poison too soon, because at that time the deer is still walking about in the wood and urinating: the deer urinates a long way off, but for them he urinates on the poison and makes it weak. Towards six o'clock in the morning Rohariwe and the others went into the forest to gather other plants, especially the plant ashukamakei, which is used to make the poison more sticky; it is a plant with long leaves. 
Most of taboos mentioned for the making of curare sound nonsensical to us, though perhaps their might be some point to the dangers of deer piss, but at the end of this quote there is made an observation, the adding of a certain plant to change the properties of pure curare, that points to a chemical knowledge that can only have been acquired through experimentation (?). Ethnobotanists like Mark Plotkin, going beyond the superstition side-show, have written about the way curare is made and have reported a great sophistication in preparation and the use of several additives to control the strength and speed of the curare's effects. The knowledge is there but can we recognize it?