How often do you think about where our food comes from that sustains our existence? Is it just a short ride to the local market where shelves are fully stocked, and the choices are vast? Do you prefer a fast-food drive through, where 2,000 calories are available by just ordering at a kiosk? How much do you truly appreciate where our food comes from and what it means for us? Do you consider that food and mankind have a unique relationship, symbiotic in nature, that sustains one another? These are questions that compels one to delve deeper into this almost sacred subject.
Just recently, while surfing through YouTube, I found an interesting documentary about a native plant and its importance to the Native American Tribe, the Nez Perce (Nimiipuu). Camas (Camassia), pronounced “Kat’mas,” is a member of the asparagus family native to North America. Besides Camas, other common names include quamash, Indian hyacinth, camash, and wild hyacinth. It grows in moist soils with good internal drainage. The flowers vary in color from pale lilac to deep purple or blue-violet. It produces a bulb from which nations of indigenous people, notably the Nez Perce, were able to survive and flourish for thousands of years. Here is the story of this sacred food of the Nez Perce.
The bulb of the Camas plant used to comprise over 50% of the Nez Perce’s diet. The protein content rivals that of elk, buffalo, and deer. There was a ceremonial recognition of this plant that kept the promise to the people that it would remain on Earth, growing and producing the life sustaining bulb, as long as the people would return each year to their native lands. Each spring and summer, when the tribe returned “home” from following the buffalo migration, the people were met with a “sea of blue” from the vast fields of blooming Camas. Lewis and Clark related that these fields resembled that of lakes due to the vastness of blue flowers.
The people honored this plant that provided the necessary nutrition to sustain the tribe. If one doesn’t work for his or her food, then how can it be appreciated? Without honor and sacrifice, how does one truly appreciate what the great creator provides? This is what is missing from the industrialized food system that we are immersed in today. There is supposed to be a ritual of transition where you come out of a mental space into something where you not only understand that food is greater than you, but to also try and comprehend all the things that came together to produce and provide this for you. Then you can make the choice to consume what is offered or not.
Today, many fields of Camas have been replaced with wheat, barley, potatoes, and sugar beets. Soils that have been here since before man, have been drained for modern agriculture production where Camas once flourished. It balances on the edge of tragedy as this plant is threatened and the tradition of one still being able to “gather” food is being lost. However, all is not lost. Thanks to the efforts of conservation organizations, environmental groups, and native tribes, there is a project being implemented known as “Camas to Condors.” It is a collaborative effort to restore health to the landscape and to bring indigenous people back to their homes and where their culture began. This partnership of multiple groups will come together as one to invest for the betterment of the land and to re-establish tradition and ceremonies to celebrate and honor this history of tribal nations.
How profound is it that the bulb of Camas is so connected to generations before us and the role it played, and still plays, for the perpetuation of a species, that being humans? Think how pertinent the relationship between a people and a plant is so that both will survive. It would be a perilous time indeed when a species of fish, bird, or plant would no longer exist and the ramifications that would present for the survival of a people. Of course, a more notable example of this is the loss of the buffalo, and how Native Americans were threatened with extinction by the loss of this staple. This is an entirely different discussion though.
I often think of traveling to the mountains to experience what those did before me and their way of life. I long to see and taste the natural foods of that country like the bitter root, the mountain potato, and yes, Camas. The history is vast of the Musselshell, the Bitterroot Mountains, and those who inhabited these lands. Different families of the tribe were charged with protecting, cultivating, and harvesting different food sources for one another. For example, there would be the “fisher” family, the “berry” family, and in this case, the “Camas” family. It is self-explanatory what the duties of each family would comprise of.
There are ways and means to experience the way it used to be. There are traditionalists who still hunt, fish, and gather, to not only commemorate, but to use the experience as a social event to enjoy camping, hiking, and star gazing at night. The aroma of the small campfires and the crackling of aspen play an important role too. These opportunities are there for those who are willing to do a little research and for a small fee, a family can enjoy a vacation while learning much about a lost culture. I invite you to spend time in the wilderness among the grizzly, the elk, the flora, and probably the mosquitoes too. I’m sure it wasn’t all a rosy picture.
As important as Camas was as a component of the diets of indigenous groups, the plant can still be grown as an ornamental in our flower beds and gardens. There are sources for bulbs for you to purchase and grow in your own backyards. You can even try your hand at harvesting, cooking, and canning this novel species. From what I understand, the bulb has several layers of a sweet, caramel taste, and is referred to as Indian candy.
Springtime is almost upon us. Why don’t you do a little of your own research and attempt to grow some and harvest it. It could be quite the learning tool to expose your children and grandchildren to a way of life long before us. Who knows, you may even learn a thing or two yourself. I plan on growing some too, I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
