Wuriupranili and Tukumbini
Mike Denney, MD, PhD
An ancient Australian aboriginal creation story tells of
how mythical people at the beginning of time had to search for food in
perpetual darkness of night, because there was no sun. One day, a tall,
grey-feathered Bolga stork hurled the yolk of an emu egg into the sky,
whereupon it struck some sticks of wood and burst into flames, lighting
up the beauty and abundance of the earth. Thereafter, Wuriupranili, the
Sun-Woman, carried this torch east to west across the heavens each day,
returning through a tunnel under the earth at night. After she gathered
food as she rose in the sky during the morning hours, in the heat of the
day at high noon Wuriupranili would begin to cook for a later celestial
feast.
Within this new diurnal cycle, the rising of the sun
each morning awakened Tukumbini, the yellow-faced honey-eater, who would
then sing out a melodious birdcall to rouse the aborigines so that, like
the Sun-Woman, they would gather food in the light of day for their
dinner at sunset. Recognizing Tukumbini as the god of wisdom and
instruction, Wuriupranili inspired him to teach the people how to
recognize, gather, cook, and eat healthy, locally-grown foods that
contained guruwari, the sacred life-sustaining essence of the
earth.
As in this issue of San Francisco Medicine we
discuss food and health—practical and scientific nutritional ideas
such as eating habits, integrative nutrition, eating disorders, world
health, the benefits of wine, environmental food contaminants, and
special diets for heart disease and diabetes prevention—we might
pause to reflect upon the simple, down-to-earth dietary practices and
teachings in the mythology of the indigenous aborigines, at 65,000 years
the longest continuously intact local culture in the world.
Certainly, if there is a modern-day personification of
Wuriupranili, it might be internationally acclaimed chef and author
Alice Waters, inventor of California cuisine, powerful advocate of
sustainable agriculture, and founder of Chez Panisse restaurant in
Berkeley. For many years, Waters rose
with the dawn, gathered fresh, organically-grown vegetables and fruits
from local farmer’s markets, spent the day preparing and cooking,
and, to the delight of her customers, served a delicious and impeccably
healthy feast during the evening dinner hours. She was named Best Chef
in America by James Beard and
one of the top ten chefs in the world by Cuisine et Vins de France.
During this time, she published eight books about healthy natural foods
and their preparation. Lamenting the ubiquity of processed and fast
foods, her fundamental principle has been, “Allow food to be what
it is.”
Extending our aboriginal myth, we might visualize a
modern Tukumbini, one to carry forward this earth-bound dietary
philosophy with wisdom, teaching, and intellectual fervor. That might
well be Berkeley professor Michael Pollan, director of the Knight
Program in Science and Environmental Journalism, who, Alice Waters has
said, “forages in the overgrowth of our schizophrenic food
culture” and “is the kind of teacher we all wish we had, one
who triggers the little explosions of insight that change the way we
eat.” Pollan has recently published two books about food and
nutrition, The Botany of Desire and The Omnivore’s Dilemma,
in which he elucidates the powerful connectedness of human beings with
the plant world and describes how the current policies and practices of
the modern food industry impact negatively upon the eating habits,
nutrition, and health of Americans.
Both Alice Waters and Michael Pollan advocate more basic
and intuitive ways of eating. In an article on food and health published
in The New York Times Magazine on January 28, 2007, Pollan
discusses the process of what he calls nutritionism, the erroneous
belief that the scientific study of individual components, nutrients
rather than food, can offer solid conclusions about what to eat or what
supplements to take. He says that nutrition-ism, with its inability to
address the complexity and wholeness of the human relationship to food,
has led to the opposite of health—to obesity, diabetes, heart
disease, and malnutrition. Focusing upon food, not just individual
nutrients, Pollan convincingly argues that we would be better off eating
the way our grandparents, great-grandparents, and great-great
grandparents taught us to eat.
Thus, both Waters and Pollan ask for a return to more
traditional ways to recognize, gather, cook, and eat healthy,
locally-grown food. They acknowledge the intimate and complex connection
of human beings to their planet. Yes, over these thousands of years, the
sacred life-giving essence of the earth, the guruwara, remains with
us in the spirits of Wuriupranili, the Sun-Woman, and Tukumbini, the
teacher.
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