By Barb Brouwer
Special to the Observer
Seated in his cozy basement workshop, Gerry Thomas crafts an age-old Indigenous tradition.
Light streams through the windows and a radio plays while Thomas begins making one of his cedar bark baskets.
It is an art he learned from his Secwépemc grandmother Christine Allen and mother, beloved late elder Mary Thomas, and one that originated thousands of years ago.
He says burial baskets discovered 15 to 20 feet below the surface of the ground near Pritchard were estimated to be more than 8,000 years old.
While the world has changed dramatically, baskets are still made in the same fashion, with birchbark and cedar roots, and cherry bark to add colouring and designs on the sides.
Baskets were usually made in the winter while much of the time was spent inside the cozy kekulis, or winter pit houses.
“Mom always said summer is for gathering,” said Thomas, noting that soaked cedar roots required for sewing the baskets should be used in the same year they are gathered. “I wish I had gathered more and put them in the freezer this fall but working at the salmon run took a lot of time. Now I have to go to the Coast to get more. ”
Thomas said each kekuli housed about four to six people, with a smaller kekuli outside that was used to store food, although snacks were available on shelves inside the kekuli.
Late fall was also the time Secwépemc people hunted male moose and deer, leaving the females to reproduce and provide for subsequent generations. The hides were used to make drums and clothing.
His mother and grandmother taught the Thomas siblings to do many things.
“It was amazing how much she and my grandmother taught us,” he said. “They made red willow dolls before rag dolls that came in in the early ’30s. The first plastic doll came in around 1953.”
One of the smelliest but vital occupations was tanning hides.
“Deer hide tanning smells really rotten in the house,” said Thomas, recalling how the smell permeated the family’s clothing and got him sent home from school. “Social services came to the house, went inside then went right back out, saying ‘it smells in your house.’ And Mom said ‘that’s just deer hide.’”
The hide is soaked with the animal’s brain for four days, after which the inside of the hide is thoroughly scraped. The sinew is kept for making drums and to tie the animal up to stretch it out.
“Once it’s clean, you turn it over, take the hair off, stretch it out, then smoke it for a few hours,” Thomas said. “This rids the hide of the smell of the brain and makes it nice and soft so it’s easier to cut and work with.”
Hides were used to make shoes, moccasins, gloves and gauntlets or long-sleeved gloves.
“We always got a pair every winter when we helped Mum, she paid us in gauntlets,” he added. “And she made moccasins for the summer so we didn’t have to buy runners. They were more comfortable.”
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Thomas hasn’t worked on any deer hides for a while, but would like to – but not in the house he shares with his wife, Phyllis.
“I want to get back into it, it’s a smelly job but someone has to do it.”
Thomas was once scraping a hide at the Switzmalph Cultural centre when some passing teens complained about the smell and were not interested in learning about the process or their culture.
Sad about their reaction, Thomas said Indigenous youths have to learn about their culture in order to keep it alive for the next generations.
“As long as we can keep our culture going, we can share it and that way we don’t lose it,” he said. “People will know it is our culture, and I will share as much as I can so we don’t lose it.”
Looking back on his youth, Thomas recalled that blankets were sewn from whatever cloth was available and pants were made of deer hide in which the hair was left on and worn against the skin for warmth. Pitch was applied to the bottom of the shoes in order to protect the leather.
While their clothes might have been a bit smelly during hide tanning season, Thomas said their bodies were clean.
“We had to run to the river at 5 in the morning to have a bath,” he said, pointing out the family home was not equipped with running water. “You had a bath inside until you were six, and then it was out to the river in our winter boots.”
Thomas was born in 1955 and at age six, he was taken away to residential school with his siblings Gary and Terry.
“After that, we moved off the reserve in 1967 and moved to the Coast,” he said. “It was too wet for Mom, so we moved to Kelowna and stayed there.”
Gerry and Phyllis’ home has been filled with love and welcome, not just for their own children Kenthen, Troy, Darcy and two that died, one at three years and another at the age of 24, but the kids they fostered over a period of 22 years.
“We had five at one time and native and non-native kids would come here for weekends and crash,” he said, noting he and Phyllis are still in touch with the kids they fostered, even though they have moved away. “We still have them in our hearts. We go visit them often and we let them know there’s always room here for them.”
Gerry Thomas - Neskonlith Knowledge Holder from Sorrento Centre on Vimeo.
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