Bamboo

There is bamboo everywhere here. You may think I’m silly for stating that. But it is really impressive. I knew that coming here I’d see a lot of bamboo, but damn. The other day I was watching some dudes build a house. When they need to get up high to put up some sheetrock or to paint, they just walk into the woods with a machete, cut down a 40’ high, 4” thick piece of bamboo, then drag it back to the worksite, hack it up, and throw up some bamboo scaffolding. It is so cool. They use ropes to bind together all the joints. They tie a loose knot and put a smaller piece of bamboo through the knot. Then they just twist it until it is crazy tight and they tie of the twisting stick so it doesn’t unwind. Then they jump up on that joint and keep going higher and higher. There are 5 story buildings here wrapped in bamboo scaff. I love it. I wonder if there has ever been a major accident involving a bamboo collapse. And in the hills I watched a villager cut up pieces of bamboo and weave a rope together in like 5 minutes to tie a bundle of bamboo to his truck. In their huts, the floors and siding, it’s all bamboo. Sometimes I’ll be in a hut and step on spot on the floor that is a little weak, it gives more than it ought to, it lets out a little creak of strain. The villagers love that. So I make a mental note of where not to step. I have a mental map for the floors of all the huts I’ve been in. Did you know you can make paper and fabric from bamboo? That stuff can do anything. And it grows so quickly. In the Karen tradition when a baby is born the umbilical cord and the placenta are placed in piece of bamboo and the bamboo is tied to a tree. Over the years, the tree will wrap around and consume the bamboo. The spirit of the person and the spirit of the tree will become connected. So every Karen person has their own tree. It is forbidden to cut down the tree. And when the person gets old and sick ceremonies will be made at the base of the tree to prolong the person’s life. I saw my first such tree this weekend. I came upon a wide open field in the middle of the forest. There were piles of felled trees on the edge of the clearing waiting to be collected and taken to the lumber yard. But standing there in the middle of the field was one proud giant old tall strong beast of a tree. I wanted to shake its hand. This photo is of some bamboo that a villager said was 20 years old. It was huge, about as big around as a cantaloupe. It’s just sitting in the middle of a village, like they’ve been saving it for something special all these years.