MY
LIFE WAS RECENTLY part of a study requirement by a student of a state
university in Metro Manila and one of the questions asked of me is
about what I see in the bushcrafters of today? Frankly, there are, I
replied, only a few non-indigenous Filipinos who practice bushcraft
and I consider them as precious jewels. Although I see this number
gaining ground every year, thanks to social networking sites, but,
deep inside, I just want them to be as few as possible.
Yes,
these local bushcrafters are so few yet their knowledge about
real-life survival skills are irreplaceable. They are misunderstood
and disdained by the mainstream outdoor crowd because of their
propensity to carry real knives (instead of the closet kind) and
their seemingly audacious methods which ran contrary to the
principles of the Leave No Trace which everybody seems to know by
heart but never understanding the very spirit by which it was
created.
Bushcrafters
do not come to a mountain to eat pre-cooked food and they are not in
a hurry either. Time is of no measure to them and their day goes on
its course without having to push themselves hard and be at places
dictated by a piece of paper. They stay low and see a lot of nature
that conventional backpackers do not know about. Yes, these
bushcrafters appreciate nature as much as you do but they embrace it
with much reverence and not by spur-of-the-moment realizations
exhibited by tourists.
They
go to the same places over and over again and does not mind the
familiarity or the tedium of it. They only take what they need and
polish off their skills to perfection with what few things they have.
They absorb every lore of these places and they relish at the
prospect of a companionship with the campfire if night comes and a
kettle of hot coffee by the side. It is always a pleasure for them
to just be by themselves or with just the right people.
I
am a bushcrafter and I am with another of my kind, Glenn Pestaño,
and we are at the very place where the recent Outlaw Bushcraft
Gathering was held two weeks ago. Today is September 15, 2013 and it
is a hot day in Sayao, Sibonga, Cebu. Two novices – Justine and
Faith – also came and they hiked the route with me from Napo,
Carcar just like the last time. Today, we will just be polishing off
our skills, testing knives and the two beginners will learn from us.
I
carry a prototype model of an AJF Gahum knife to test its versatility
and handling. It is hand-made by a gentleman from Lilo-an and he
choose me to do all the torture on his creation except shooting it
insanely to drive a point. Aside that, Glenn had been dangling a
Seseblade Sinalung knife for me – a gift coming from Dr. Arvin Sese
himself – urging me to make me come and get it. I will have that
soon once I will arrive at the camp along with another of Doc Sese’s
gift – a money belt. I did arrive, sweat and all, and I claimed
the gifts. Hmmm...lovely!
When
I have recovered from my euphoria, I go down a small valley and
harvest a pole of water bamboo. I will need it to teach Faith and
Justine how to chop a piece of bamboo and how to make cooking pots.
From these natural pots, I will teach them the technique of cooking
rice in it. Aside that, I will show them what fire tinder to collect
and how to arrange firewood before starting a fire by conventional
means.
I
use the full force of the AJF Gahum on a mature bamboo pole and carry
the best part up the campsite and go back again to the bamboo grove
to collect dried pieces of bamboo for my fire. Glenn, meanwhile,
devised a cooking set-up using three sticks of bamboo and some
stakes. The bigger stick is used to hang a pot over a fire.
After
I had done my lessons with Faith and Justine, both went with Glenn
for another lesson about how to dress a chicken. I tended the fires
for two conjoined segments of bamboo which I made as cooking vessels
and cook simultaneously both with rice. I also cook rice on a
conventional pot hanged from Glenn’s tripod for insurance since, I
believe, we all will be having a good appetite owing to the promise
of eating free-rein chicken!
After
finishing my cooking, I went to see how all are doing with their
chicken. It is already 1:00 PM and, I think, they may be in the
final touches of the chicken soup. When I arrive, they have not yet
started the cooking. I take over by partitioning evenly some
chicken parts and retrieve the head, the feet and the food sac, which
were condemned as wastes, and cleaned it thoroughly before mixing it
with the rest.
Since
we don’t have the luxury of many ingredients, I use all to the
limit like the cooking oil, garlic, the lower half of spring onions
and green pepper. Then I put the pieces of chicken and let it roll
back and forth in the scant oil during frying and, as it becomes
brownish, I pour a quart of water and let it boil. I add lemon
grass, spring onion leaves and pieces of ginger. For flavor, I shake
some white pepper powder on the soup and two teaspoons of salt. No
MSG. Cooking tasteful food outdoors is done with a right frame of
mind and not by artificial means.
Anyway,
there was a lot of food for everyone and we even shared it with a
family living nearby in “boodle-fight” fashion. We deserve that
dining style because we are bushcrafters and not some staged activity
of conventional backpackers whose instincts follow an almost
corporate flavor. I go for the head, the de-scaled feet, the opened
food sac, a part of a liver and a good piece of a thigh to reward
myself of the effort and energy lost to the morning hike, the
foraging of bamboo and the cooking.
The
rest of the afternoon are spent on conversations aided by the juice
of a fermented coconut wine. We wind down the activity by checking
on our blades. I am smiling because I have done well with my test of
the AJF Gahum and found out that it needs some brushing up. Well,
this piece would likely go back to its owner who will study its
improvements based on my findings and recommendations. I am also
smiling because I have a Seseblade. This, too, will be subject to my
own brand of torture.
We
leave Sayao for Napo following the morning route and transfer to a
tricycle for Ocaña where the national highway is found. We doused
our thirsty throats with cold soda drinks from a store and waited for
a Ceres Liner bus. Two full ones passed by but the third
accommodated all five of us inside on the seats. It was another
quality day that only hard-to-the-core gentlemen of the outdoors
would understand and relish. Not only that, the newcomers learned a
lot with which knowledge would be second nature when SHTF comes.
Document
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1 comment:
Great article. I loved it.
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