These last few days have been filled with more
good-byes. Friday I traveled up to
Qualicum Beach to see a very important person in my life, Kwaxsistalla, a
Kwakwaka’wakw Clan Chief, who has taught me an extraordinary amount about the
traditional food ways of his clan. Nancy
introduced me to Kwaxsistalla almost exactly four years ago and I can still
hear him singing the traditional Soapberry (Shepherdia canadensis) whipping song that he sang for us that
evening, and I vividly remember him teaching us about his favorite way to eat
frost softened Crabapples (Malus fusca). My visit Friday was different than my
countless other visits where my goal was to apprentice with Kwaxsistalla and
trade my labor for his traditionally-styled education which comprised of
on-the-land instruction and storytelling.
Today, my visit was for the purpose of telling him that I was moving. It wasn’t exactly a goodbye, although I am
moving away, and he is of a venerable age.
I still plan on seeing him again.
I mostly wanted to use the occasion to tell him how much he means to me
and let him know how important he has been to my understanding of indigenous
foods. I have been lucky enough to participate in the
harvesting and preservation of food, not as part of some eccentric counter-cultural
desire, but as part of a timeless tradition of food sovereignty. More important than these experiences, were
the life lessons that he taught me, such as the meaning of family, and the
importance of place; he showed me generosity,
he inspired humility, and he gave me the courage to speak what was in my heart.
My other great mentor over these past four years has been my
Master’s Supervisor, Nancy Turner. On Wednesday
she took me out for dinner and I did my best to impart to her my feelings of
gratitude for her wonderful example, inspirational character, and overwhelming
generosity. Over the years she has even
showed me some of her favorite berry patches and mushroom-picking grounds.
Yesterday we loaded up the balance of our belongings (my dad
took all of our books earlier) and narrowly caught the ferry to the
mainland. We arrived in Bellingham in
the middle of a rainstorm, but with the ferry and border crossings behind us,
the worst part of the move is over. We
are watching a friend’s dog for the next few weeks while we look for a place to
live- hopefully someplace with a big pantry.
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