Pablo’s Woodlife

I take an interest in many native cultures mainly to (remotely) examine their skills and customs, but not intrusively so.

This is an extract from a flyer produced in the’90’s for the American people and succinctly sums up my thoughts.

“It is good to respect the Native American, for reasons you understand well. One way of honouring him is to leave his religion, his spirituality, his ancestors, to him! But there’s another obligation, too. Don’t you owe it to your own ancestors – whose blood and bone and soul you are – to seek them first? The thousands of generations of forefathers and foremothers, warriors, hunters, and explorers, heroes and rogues alike, call to you. They are your kin. They beckon you – to heal our people, to heal our world, and to walk again the way of the warrior and the wise one. They call you home. Will you answer?”

Today being the Winter Solstice (Yule) is one of the most important days in the British prehistoric calendar. In fact it’s celebrated in many other cultures as well.

Here’s a few things I’ve collated about Yule:

Our ancestors considered the sun as a wheel that changed the seasons. It was from the word for this wheel, houl, that the word Yule is thought to have come.

The Druids (priests) would cut the mistletoe that grew on the oak tree and give it as a blessing. Oaks were seen as sacred and the winter fruit of the mistletoe was a symbol of life in the dark winter months.

Mistletoe has a most compelling and influential history. According to ancient Druid tradition, Mistletoe was the most sacred of all plants. Mistletoe was used by the Druid priesthood in a very special ceremony; held five days after the New Moon following winter solstice. The Druid priests would cut Mistletoe from a holy Oak tree with a golden sickle. The branches had to be caught before they touched the ground. The priest then divided the branches into sprigs and dispersed them to the people, who hung them over doorways as protection.

The tradition of bringing sprigs of Holly and Ivy into the home pays homage to the masculine and feminine elements. Both of these powerfully magickal plants are evergreen, a reminder in itself that the earth never dies, but merely sleeps during the winter months, (a tradition which was the precursor to our modern tradition of the evergreen Christmas tree). The male element is represented by the prickly holly; with its sexually potent red berries. The ivy is the female; entwining, gentle yet powerful.

It was also the Druids who began the tradition of the Yule log. They thought that the sun stood still for twelve days in the middle of winter and during this time a log was lit to conquer the darkness, banish evil spirits and bring luck for the coming year. Never choose Elder for your Yule log.

Yule celebrates the birth of the Sun God – child of the Goddess in the Pagan belief system.

Whatever you ancestry, belief or culture, have a great holiday and may your God(s) be with you.

Pablo.

“Pity Southern Africa’s first people. Pity the people with no name. For when you are the only ones, you have no need to distinguish your kind from others…”

So begins an article on the Bushmen by Peter Godwin for National Geographic magazine written in 2000. ‘Bushman’ isn’t a derogatory name but ‘San’ may be. It means outsiders or vagabonds. Can we call Africa’s first people that?

They call themselves Ju/’hoansi (pronounced ‘zshu-wansi’), which means ‘The Real People’ and they really are the real people. They are a people with an ancient past with no written history apart from some rock paintings. They were considered vermin and a threat to livestock for the 350 years since Europeans landed on the African shores. They were killed in great numbers.

Today the Ju/’hoansi (the ‘/’ is one of four symbols denoting a click – in this instance a ‘Zshu’ sound) are still on the edge of cultural extinction despite being intensively studied by anthropologists as one of the last hunter gatherer peoples in the world.

These hunter gatherer societies were the norm until some 10,000 years ago when we adopted agriculture. Ironically, the Ju/’hoansi can’t even legally hunt today. Official sources say that they are allowed but they need a permit to do so, which in turn requires a passport, which apparently is difficult to get. They have been pushed into ever smaller areas but now, at least, they retain an element of solitude on what is their ancestral land; the Kalahari bushvelt. It doesn’t mean they are left alone. In early November this year, cow herders broke down the fencing and allowed cattle to graze on the Ju/’hoansi’s land. The bushman talking to the Peter Godwin in 2000 stated; “We Bushmen, we were the first people here, so how come we are the last in line to get anything?”

The ancestors of the Ju/’hoansi practiced hunting even before hunting weapons were invented by running down their prey in what is termed as ‘persistence’ hunting and is surely the first instance of a requirement to track an animal by human-kind; so ancient is the art of tracking – and how ancient and perfect is their skill at doing it. So much so that they were recruited into various African armies just for that purpose. I considered myself privileged just to watch them, let alone join in (that’s for a later post).

In the north east of Namibia, the north western part of the Kalahari begins. It reaches into Botswana and South Africa and border on Angola and Zambia. After 30 minutes driving along a soft, sand track we came to a halt in a village and were immediately greeted by a number of bushmen.

It was no surprise to see that the ‘new’ village wasn’t too far removed from the grass shelters we would be building later. Only the school house seemed to be a permanent structure as we know it. It was also no surprise that the bushmen were not in traditional attire. This would be saved for when they visited us at our camp or when working at the traditional village.

The bushmen were grinning. They never stopped grinning and laughing. Maybe it was the thought of soon having access to a cup of tea with 6 sugars, packets of sweets that we bought from a supermarket on the way and their favourite western food, porridge (with maple syrup of course).

They are classed as a peaceful society. They avoid conflict and everything is done by discussion with minimal argument and that’s even with the women being involved as well. Fancy that. Even when we were tracking, it was a consensus between the trackers that determined what the animal had done and where it had gone.

We were greeted in a traditional way later in the evening, when the chanting and syncopated clapping began. Some of the men started a muscular shaking but the story and actions were difficult to interpret. Apparently the chanting was to welcome us and keep the spirits from harming us.

From then on, they walked the mile to our camp every morning for their cup of tea. Depending on the task in hand, we either followed them into the bush or they led us to the traditional village. They were hard task masters and we copied everything they showed us. They knew when we were really struggling and took over the task but not after reprimanding us in a friendly way, which usually ended up with all of us in fits of laughter. They were great teachers and knew what we wanted to learn.

We were warned that one particular day, we would have to walk quite a way to retrieve a root for our quivers. We loaded up with water and provisions only to see the bushmen pointing at our vehicle. We quickly got the idea and soon, complete with a dozen exited and chattering bushmen and women clambering in, around and on the Land Cruiser we started along the sand tracks to our destination – a sight I regret not being in a position to photograph. It brought a new meaning to the term ‘joy-riding’!

What really struck me was their sense of humour. One of them tied a stick to the back of his friends loin-cloth. After shouting what could only be interpreted as ’snake’, the unfortunate fellow leapt up and ran around in panic looking behind himself as the stick followed him everywhere he went.

On another instance I was the brunt of their jokes. I took over tracking a duiker (small antelope). I followed the tracks for a way and then came to a halt. A tap on my shoulder told me I was going in the wrong direction. No surprise there, but I struggled to imagine why the duiker had actually turned nearly 180 degrees and then gone off at an acute angle. Nevertheless, the tracks were there and I eagerly started off in pursuit. After a couple of strides, I heard a giggling behind me and turned to see everyone sniggering behind their hands, including the bushmen. Apparently, I was successfully following stick marks that the bushmen had jabbed in the sand! You guys!

I only got my own back when a kudu skin was dug up after being buried to stop it drying out. I accused Kgau of the putrid smell by pointing at his arse and holding my nose causing the rest of the congregation to fall about in fits of laughter!

They were truly amazed by some of the gifts we handed to them at the end of the 5 days. String, batteries, wind up torches, a mirror and clothes were all welcome. I gave my new found tracker pal – who had named me /Ui (zchwee – meaning seed of a mopani tree being short and stocky) a titanium folding spoon and a single cell Fenix torch which he had been eyeing up for the last few days (courtesy of Lakelandbushcraft) which he immediately put in his shoulder bag. We bought their jewellery and bush tools – a major source of income for them to subsidise their yearly income from the hunting concession.

I have much more to write about the Ju/’hoansi which I will probably do in a separate article. I can only thank them for their hospitality, which I know they will never hear or never see.

I can also categorically say that all the time I can write and all the time people want to read what I write, the bushmen will from now on always have a name; a real name for real people.

Next post – Bushcraft with the Bushmen.

Moving pictures of the trip are now on my YouTube channel including some of the Ju/’hoansi singing and chanting.

It’s quite amusing that we are always trying to define bushcraft. I’ve always had a simple explanation and it’s been confirmed by this experience. It’s simply building, making or crafting things out of natural materials in order to be comfortable in the outdoors (the bush). It’s as simple as that. In the UK and possibly Europe and the US we can get away with defining it as a hobby or lifestyle or a myriad of other terms because of the availability of alternative and ready made materials to do what is required e.g. a tent.

In north east Namibia, the same could be said of the bushmen – sort of. They can acquire some clothing, rice for food and odd bits of corrugated iron or an empty shell of a Hilux canopy for shelter; but it’s not too far in their past that there was an actual requirement for them to craft tools, make hunting weapons and build shelters in order not just to be comfortable, but to survive. It’s also not too far in their distant past that they haven’t forgotten how to forage and what to forage for.

The priorities for survival in the bush are not that far removed from a temperate climate which may be a strange comment but bear with me (I’ll deal a little bit more with actual survival skills in the final post) As with most places the first thing you will need is protection from the elements. Of course the shelter is not to primarily protect from cold, wet and wind, but to protect one from the sun. However, temperatures can drop to below freezing in the Namibian winter and there can be vicious downpours so it’s equally important to be aware of this. In the shade the temperature can be 10 degrees Celsius (50F) lower than in standing in the full sun. The first task then was to build a shelter.

Under instruction from the Ju/’hoansi we constructed a permanent looking shelter in the shape of a wikiup. The difference with this one was that  holes were dug into the sand up to elbow deep and 8 or so poles were embedded into the holes around the circumference of the shelter giving a good solid foundation to the structure. The sand was excavated with our hands after a digging stick (our first tool made out of a sickle bush branch) had softened up the sand.

The limbs were interwoven with smaller branches and finally the whole structure was covered with dry grass, again woven into the structure (both inside and out). We were instructed to leave some gaps to allow what draught there was to vent the shelter. It was remarkably cool inside.

The construction of a hunting set was next. A lot of time was spent gathering the correct wood for the correct part of the set. The bow was made out of a Raison bush branch and the quiver was made from the root bark of the False umbrella thorn.

The main tool used by the bushmen was the axe or chop-chop. This brilliant tool could be converted into an adze by simply removing the axe head and turning it 90 degrees. It was a great tool and we were allowed to buy them off the bushmen and bring them home. Granfors eat your heart out! A double-edged knife was also used, but my mentor Kgau usually signaled that he wanted to use my EKA Nordic W11.

To make the quiver, we built a fire and placed the root, which had been cut to size, in the hot embers and sand for about 2-3 hours. After thinning out both ends of the quiver, the wood was then battered on its end onto a stone to dislodge the inner wood from the outer bark. The inner was finally separated from the outer bark with a bit of pulling. This enabled the now hollow outer bark to be used as a receptacle for the arrows and the hand drill. Damp antelope skin was tied over the ends of the bark, cut to shape and allowed to dry. Finally, a shoulder strap made out of hide was put on the quiver ends and one end was prised open to create the cap.

The arrows are a three stage affair with the tip part able to come way from the main shaft. We had to file the tips to shape. It is the tip shaft (just behind the tip) that contains the poison. Interestingly, there were no flights to the arrow and you have to get extremely close to hit the target.

The bow string was made from Sanseveria , more commonly known as mother-in-law’s tongue.  The pulp is removed by scraping it away with the sharp edge of the digging stick until the stringy remains can be twisted into cordage in much the same way as we make nettle or willow cordage. The removal of the pulp takes a great deal of effort (believe me) and there is a technique to be mastered (which /Ui  didn’t master at all and got told off for slacking!) Giraffe tendon was also used as cordage particularly to reinforce some of the arrow parts.

While selecting the appropriate materials over the 5 days, we dug and dug and dug. The digging stick was the most useful of tools. Most of the food was found under ground like the bush potato and bush cucumber and the wonderful water root plant. The bushmen (but particularly the women) were highly skilled in spotting the slightest sign of growth above ground. It was then a case of digging to see if the root was good enough to eat. Not surprisingly, there was a lack of berries as I expect most had already been foraged.

Even the poison for the arrows was to be found underground. The cocoons containing the larvae of the Diamphidia beetle are found quite deep underneath the Commiphora bush which hosts the beetle.  Great care was taken when digging the things up. We only found a dried up larvae, but it gave us an idea of what was involved.

The poison on the arrow will slowly poison the quarry and the tracking skills of the hunter will come to the fore to find the dying animal. This may take a few days and I was left wondering why a more efficient hunting system with more powerful bows had not been developed. But, as a tracker, I pleased this hadn’t happened otherwise the tracking skills would have been long lost – much like ours.

The penultimate skill we were shown was trapping. We were shown two traps based on the same type of trigger mechanism. One for scrub hares and rabbits and the other for Guinea fowl (pic). The traps are designed to keep the unfortunate prey alive until the hunter is ready to dispatch it. In this way the quarry will be kept fresh for longer in the heat. Of course, it was well camouflaged after this picture was taken.

After 4 days of foraging, making a shelter, making a hunting set, and making traps we went on to the final task. Whenever the bushmen settled down to work, they built a fire. This is the second survival priority and essential to us for boiling water, an absolute necessity in the Kalahari. The bushmen are so well adapted to the arid climate they need very little water, usually taking it from plants and caches. They will use the fire more for cooking, to provide warmth during the evening, for their rituals and assistance in making their tools.

We foraged for the appropriate wood, which in this case was the Manketti bush (I may need to edit this name) and cut two sticks each, which were soon whittled into a drill and a hearth. Dried grass was prepared and we were off! Fire by friction – the hand-drill way! If you can’t do this in the Kalahari, then you can’t do it anywhere – nevertheless I didn’t find it easy. I noted that for the bushmen (and women – as they make fire as well) it’s a team effort, taking turns in drilling. They shout encouragement  to each other and to the fire: “Ka – ka – ka” (have a listen to the video). They are encouraging the ember by saying, “Come on fire – hurry, hurry”.

Eventually, the fire did come for all of us and with shouts of “Gaja – Gaja!” (great – good – well done) we sat back and grinned and watched these ancient peoples nod their head in approval and pride at their protégées success.

Next post – Tracking