Yesterday was Juneteenth. Today there will be a celebration and parade downtown of that unique Texas holiday commemorating the arrival of news of slavery's end in Texas. Texans all over the state celebrate freedom and revel in our African-American heritage this time of the year. This holiday has started me thinking of the contribution Africa has made to the world of horticulture.
There are many things Africa brings to our lives. There are houseplants of all kinds. The obvious example is the African violet (Saintpaulia sp.). How many of you grow African violets on your kitchen windowsill? There is also our summertime treat, okra (Abelmochus esculentus). Folklore has it that African slaves smuggled the first seeds to America hidden in their hair, and I'm glad they did. We, here in Texas, harvest okra out of our gardens and eat it with delight in all sorts of ways — in gumbo, fried, even pickled.
Photo by Jeff Abt |
On Juneteenth I drank a cup of coffee and celebrated horticultural diversity.
|
Then, there are exotic woods that come from the trees of Africa. Luthiers highly value bubinga (Guibourtia tessmannii); makore (Tieghemella heckelii) in building guitars and violin,; and mpinga (Dalbergia melanoxcyn) is especially prized by guitar-makers for its exotic black wood.
We could go on and on about other horticultural contributions, but I suppose the one that has made the most significant impact in my life is coffee (Coffee arabica). You may think coffee is a mere trifle, but for many of us, coffee is almost an essential. We grow grumpy and surly, if we haven't had our morning coffee. And who hasn't had some very important conversation over a cup of coffee.
This brings to mind a discussion I had years ago with Brent and Sarah Patton, owners of Java Jacks Coffee House. They are experts, you know, in coffee — its history, its roasting and its blending. Brent told me that tradition has it that an Ethiopian goatherd was the first to discover the benefits of coffee. The goatherd noticed that his goats were unusually happy when they ate the berries from certain bushes. (By the way, you may think that goatherd was rather observant, but what else does a goatherd have to do?) The goatherd decided he would try the berries himself, and thus the beverage coffee was born. Boy, am I thankful for that African shepherd boy.
Since those days coffee has spread all over the planet. It moved into Yemen, into Cairo, Egypt, and by 1511 its popularity had spread, and it was drunk by thousands in Mecca.
Eventually, coffee moved into Europe and coffeehouses became the rage. Revolutions have been plotted in European coffeehouses, you know. And here I am, a Texan drinking coffee on Juneteenth.
All around us there is an African horticultural influence in our lives. The very way we think about gardening had its start in the gardens of ancient Egypt. But I think it is important to note that every year our world grows smaller. Cultures tumble and mix together, and we are enriched by it. Plants from the Americas are grown in Africa and Asia. Plants from Africa and Asia are grown all across Europe and into the Americas. In the world of horticulture, this mixing is very subtle. When you eat a tomato this summer, it won' t announce to you that it's originally from South America. When you admire the beauty of a crape myrtle, it doesn't hang out a sign that it's from the Orient. And when you eat fried okra at your next picnic, it won't say that it's African. Ah, the subtle diversity of our horticulture world.
