Sam Ochurte with rat pole and dead rat hanging from his belt, and son Catarino with rat at end of arrow...
IMAGINE STARTING your day hunting, catching, and preparing the white-throated wood rat for breakfast. Paul Campbell, a San Diego survivalist, accompanied two Kumiai Indians on a wood rat hunt, not just to document a fast-disappearing skill but also to learn how the Kumiai derived maximum benefit (in this case protein) with little disruption to their environment.
Wood rats build twig nests under the nopal and yucca. Hunters burn these nests or probe them with sharp sticks. When a disturbed rat tries to escape, they shoot it with a bow and arrow from very close range. This hunt was successful, bagging two rats, and these were prepared the traditional way for consumption during our morning break. The Indians use a special mano and metate, which are kept hidden at least 100 yards away from their houses. The rat is placed in a fire of juniper bark and mesquite to singe the skin and remove it and the hair. Its tail and intestines are thrown a good distance away (to discourage coyotes) and the body replaced in the flames for another five minutes. The roasted animal is then pounded -- flesh, bones, and teeth -- into a flat, rather dry "tortilla." This is torn into pieces, and resembles nothing so much as jerky.
The hunt began the 5th annual Baja California Indigena Symposium, held at the University of San Diego on November 14th. Fifteen speakers from both sides of the border introduced us to a wide range of topics, from the wonderfully enigmatic rock art of Cueva Pintada to how modern research is revealing the science behind what the native peoples have always known about the therapeutic value of plants around them.
Don Laylander, an archeologist with Caltrans, told about the rise and fall of Lake Cahuilla -- all within the lifetime of one Cocopa Indian. The Cocopa, who lived on the lower Colorado River, relied on the lake for much of their livelihood. It provided fish and mussels, rushes and reeds for baskets and roofs, saltgrass, cottonwoods, and willows. The lake formed in 1610 when tributaries of the Colorado River shifted course, perhaps because of an earthquake, flowing north into a valley rather than south into the delta. By 1635 there was another shift to the south, and the lake began to dry up. The mussels had gone by 1660, and 25 years later fish had disappeared. The Cocopa scattered into the lands of the neighbouring Kumiai and Paipai.
Like all good tales, this one has a moral. Natural systems sometimes change quickly, requiring living creatures, including humans, to adapt or perish. We are no more immune to this than the Cocopa were; it just appears that way because we have used technology to provide us with a constant stream of what we need.
Other speakers told how the Tipai and Ipai Indians of San Diego County manipulated their environment for hundreds of years through simple forms of land management and water conservation. Rosa Rodriguez, from La Paz, described how the social cohesion of the indigenous people allowed them to experiment with their resources and withstand some of the depredations of the mission period.
A highlight of the day was the appearance of the Grand Old Lady of San Diego anthropology, Florence Shipek, who spoke lyrically of her 50 years studying Baja's native populations.
Michael Wilken, founder of CUNA (Native Cultures Institute of Baja California) provided a videotape of conversations with Paipai and Kumiai Indians describing their gentle relationship with their environment. This was the message to go home with: there is much wisdom in indigenous peoples and we should listen more carefully.
Paul Campbell presented us with a plate of the very wood rat jerky he had seen made. It was peppery, very tasty, and surprisingly popular.
http://www.coastalconservancy.ca.gov/coast&ocean/winter98/a11.htm
