BCAA Travel Blog

October 9th, 2008

Reds, Whites and Rattlers (part 2)

by Kerry Banks

Yes, I had planned to hit the hay, but there is a full moon tonight and those amazing Smoker Marchand sculptures are out there twinkling in the darkness. I was recently given a new digital camera for my birthday and this looks like a good opportunity to see what it can do. I have to admit that after shooting for 30 years with a single-lens reflex, I’m finding the digital version a bit baffling. The manual that came with the device is only slightly smaller than a Gideon Bible. My teenage daughter, who effortlessly converted to digital two years ago, has assured me that the camera is smarter than I am. At least, I think she meant this to be reassuring. Anyway, I spend an hour crazily snapping away in the gloom until a red light on the viewfinder begins flashing and the camera unleashes a frantic series of beeps. Then everything goes black. The battery has died.

Morning finds me staring at a sign that reads “Be Alert. Watch for Rattlesnakes.” Since I have not yet finished my first coffee of the day, I may possibly be in some danger here. The sign is posted beside the the first hole at Sonora Dunes–Spirit Ridge’s executive golf course. The course is situated amid Canada’s only true desert, a section of the south Okanagan that is home to more than 30 percent of B.C.’s threatened and endangered wildlife, rare insects and plants. The rattlers tend to come out when the weather is hot because the grass is cool and soothing. If you stumble upon a snake, then it’s wise not to mess with it. There’s a $2,500 fine for trying to hurt the threatened species, and if you kill one you can go to jail. Researchers at the nearby Nk’Mip Desert Cultural Centre are currently working on a friendly way to reroute the creatures. But for now, rattlesnake warning signs have to suffice.

The climate that the rattlers find so appealing is also ideal for viniculture. The Osoyoos region enjoys long, hot summers and short, mild winters with minimum rainfall–perfect conditions for grapes, especially bold red varieties as we soon discover at Nk’Mip Cellars. The winery, which is 51 percent owned by the Osoyoos Indian Band and 49 percent by Vincor Canada Ltd., is the first winery operated by aboriginal owners in North America. The band leases out a portion of its vineyards, but still has the capacity to grow up to 800 hectares of grapes for its biggest customer–Vincor. These vineyards sprawl across only a small section of the band’s 13,000-hectare reserve, yet they total 25 percent of the total grape acreage in the Okanagan Valley.

Designed by Penticton architect Robert Mackenzie, the winery is a striking structure, with a high, vaulted ceiling and an interior adorned with various pieces of First Nations’ art. The varietals currently produced here include Pinot Blanc, Riesling, Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Merlot, Syrah, Meritage and Riesling Icewine. We are taken on a tour of the facility by assistant manager Dan Yoja, who explains that the vineyard covers 21 acres, with the capacity to produce 18,000 cases annually. That is a medium-sized vineyard by Okanagan standards, but it’s puny by world standards. “Just one vineyard in Napa, California, is larger than all of the Okanagan vineyards combined,” says Yoja.

During our tour we learn something about the differences between wine barrels made of French oak as opposed to American oak, and also that the word the word “Meritage” was invented by the Los Angeles Times in the early 1980s by combining the words “merit” and “heritage,” in order to describe wines from California and elsewhere that were modelled on French Bordeaux. Our visit ends with a tasting of some of Nk’Mip’s wines, where Yoja introduces us some interesting wine terms. “Legs”–the streaks that wine leaves on the inside of the glass when you swirl it around (the thicker the legs the higher the alcohol content); “Nose”–a synonym for a wine’s aroma; and “Hairy”–an adjective used to describe wines with a rough, puckery taste. I think that “hairy” was the word he used. But then thhis revelation came near the end of the tasting session.

Well lubricated, we adjourn for lunch on the winery’s outdoor patio where we are joined by Clarence Louie, the chief of the Osoyoos Indian Band. Louie is an unconventional Native leader in both his demeanour and his philosophy. His slim and boyish appearance belies a ramrod-tough character. Among other things, he is known for his uncompromising messages to his people, such as “Indian time doesn’t cut it” and “Our ancestors worked for a living. So should you.”

As he informs us, “I don’t give the usual Indian speech; that we fly with the eagles, run with the buffalo, swim with the salmon and beat with one heartbeat. I want to talk about creating jobs and making money.” To those who contend he is ignoring tradition, Louie replies: “You’re going to lose your language and culture faster in poverty than you will in economic development.”

His rhetoric is backed up by results. When Louie was first elected chief in 1984, at age 24, the 440-member Osoyoos Indian band was bankrupt, crippled by welfare dependency and sky-high unemployment. Health problems, corruption and violence were rampant. Twenty-four years later, the tiny band is a regional powerhouse, pumping an annual $40 million into the B.C. economy. It owns more than a dozen businesses and is the biggest employer in the south Okanagan.

Considering that elections for the position of chief, which Louie likens to the role of a city mayor, are held every two years, he’s clearly a popular figure in his community. Even so, Louie claims he would rather dispense with the elections. “I wish it was dictatorship,” he admits. “But it’s not. It’s a democracy.”

Later in the day, during a tour of the Nk’Mip Desert Cultural Centre we discover that Clarence Louie is not the only visionary leader in the band’s history. A century ago, Chief Baptiste George convinced the Canadian government that their children should attend day school on the reserve rather than being sent to residential school. As he stated, “I want you to teach my people to meet the world upon its own terms.”

The Inkameep Day School opened in 1915 but struggled until a gifted teacher named Anthony Walsh arrived in 1932. Walsh encouraged the children to create drawings, paintings, stories and plays that honoured traditional language and culture. Their art, exhibited in Paris and Vienna, regularly won awards at the Children’s Wartime Drawing competition in London. Canadian artists Emily Carr and Lawren Harris corresponded with Walsh about his work, as did American film-maker Walt Disney.

After Walsh left in 1942 to help with the war effort, the dynamic arts program came to an end. In 1943, the first replacement teacher at the school burned the children’s art, denouncing Walsh’s teaching practices as backward and detrimental to the process of “civilizing the children.” By the mid-1940s, many former students had been sent to residential schools in Cranbrook and Kamloops, B.C. Fortunately, Katie Lacey, a non-native supporter of Walsh, rescued much of their art from destruction. She hid it for 20 years under her bed, then donated it to the Osoyoos Museum when it opened in 1963. In 2003, drawings from the collection were displayed at the Vancouver Art Gallery, and in 2004 an on-line presentation entitled “Drawing on Identity: Inkameep Day School and Art Collection” was posted on the Virtual Museum of Canada website. Visit www.virtualmuseum.ca for more on this inspiring story.