2013/04/01

Rebirth of the Camas



My boyhood was in the countryside of the Lowlands.  Everything in Nature is natural, without mask or cover-up.   In a sense it could be a plus, compared to growing up in a city. At age five I had a small garden.  Also a pair of rabbits, Flemish giants they called them.  White, with red eyes. They too were my sole responsibility, feeding, clean-up, etc.  
Ladybug on Carrot Leaf
My favourite vegetable in the garden was carrots, because the ladybugs seemed to prefer wandering over those green curly leaves. Although father had a potato-growing area, mine was too small for potatoes. We used to play Cowboys & Indians because we’d seen those Hollywood movies in a primitive ‘theatre’ nearby.   
I always was an “Indian” because it allowed me to be more creative and paint my face, stick feathers in my hair, and yield a tomahawk (made from carton).  Where is all this leading, you may ask?  Well, I’ll tell you. We live right at the shore of Juan de Fuca Strait here in James Bay, Victoria.  A fairly good-sized stretch of wild grass separates the sea from our road and houses.  Each June, that ‘grass’ blooms with the blue-violet blossoms of the Camas.   

Camas field across the street from where we live

The fields at one time were cultivated by the Songhees First Nations. The Camas bulbs were a staple food, something like a potato.  With care and know-how, they steamed the bulbs to the correct moment, reading for consuming.  Now, after many years there is a revival and interest in the Camas plant.  Under the supervision of a First Nations Camas expert, Royal Roads University has began an enterprise of cultivating the Camas.  There is also a program at Camosun College. 

Cooked Camas Bulbs

Reaction to this initiative has been enthusiastic, especially among teenagers, who now are helping in planting the bulbs. They hope the first harvest of this First Nation “potato” will be next year. See what I mean where all the introduction was going?  (By the way, all Camas with cream-coloured flowers are a no-no.  They’re poison.  Just so you know). 

In the old days:  First Nations Elder sorting Camas bulbs

Henri van Bentum