Journey of Tapping Lacquer Trees

By qīqíqǐqì  ·  June, 2024

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It is still early June, just the beginning of the lacquer-tapping season. Every household is busy with preparations before the work begins. I was fortunate enough to take part in the mountain-opening ritual, known as the first cut (fàng shuǐ).

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This involves a series of detailed tasks, such as sharpening the lacquer knife, hammering in lacquer nails, scraping the bark, and making the first incision to release the bitter water.

From books and documentaries I was already familiar with the tapping process itself, but the preparations beforehand are rarely described in detail. That is why, when I learned I could participate in this stage, I felt truly excited.

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Let me describe the process in detail. First of all, many tools are needed.

· A curved machete is used to cut away weeds and branches blocking the path. The road is nothing more than wild mountain tracks, hard to walk on, sometimes with snakes or thorny plants along the way.

· Long iron lacquer nails are hammered into the tree, serving as steps to climb. They are hard and sharp, so you have to be careful not to scratch your skin or tear your trousers.

· A hammer is used to drive the nails deep into the trunk, so that one can steadily step on them while climbing. The distance between two nails is about the length from the sole of the foot to the knee. When climbing, you must hold on tightly to the tree with both arms.

· A slightly curved scraper is used to peel away the bark. It does not need to be too sharp, just sharp enough to shave off arm hair is considered sufficient.

· Then comes the specialised lacquer knife, designed with a unique shape so that it can rest in the crook of the hand while climbing, leaving the fingers free to grip the tree. The knife is made in different sizes according to the hand of the user. With it, a small lacquer tapping incision is cut in the shape of a V.

· A woven bamboo basket is carried on the back, filled with all the necessary tools.

· Small plastic sheets shaped like leaves are folded, almost like wrapping a rice dumpling, into tiny triangular containers to catch the raw lacquer sap.

· Proper clothing is also essential. Long sleeves, long trousers, and hiking shoes are required. The calves must be wrapped tightly with two to three metres of cloth, since this is the most vulnerable part of the body. On mountain paths there may be snakes, and when climbing trees hornets can attack. If a hornet stings the calf, there is a real risk of falling from the tree. This cloth protects the legs.

· There is also a thick protective sleeve worn on the arms, serving the same purpose.

· Gloves are highly recommended, ideally the cut-resistant type used in carpentry. Nails and axes are sharp and can easily injure the hands. Since climbing also requires direct contact with the trunk, gloves make it safer to press firmly against the bark without fear of abrasion.

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Today was the first time this year we went into the mountains to tap lacquer, so the preparations were even more meticulous.

Vincent first spent quite a while in the courtyard and the workshop gathering all the tools. Then he sharpened them with sandpaper, whetstones, and a polishing machine. The scraper used for peeling bark does not need to be very sharp; it should feel slightly rough to the touch. The lacquer knife, however, must be polished carefully with both the machine and leather, to make sure the blade is sharp enough.

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We began climbing the mountain. It was truly wild, nothing like the trails I had hiked before, and it looked more dangerous than I had imagined. The path could hardly be called a path at all, overgrown with weeds and plants of every kind. After a whole winter and spring without anyone coming up here, of course the vegetation had claimed all the ground for itself.

Dian carried a bucket weighing nearly fifteen kilos, filled with lacquer nails. I held two heavy curved machetes and a hammer, while Vincent led the way with a basket on his back packed with other tools.

The first lacquer tree was some distance away, standing on a slope. From afar we could only watch Vincent working below, hearing the sounds instead of seeing the details. Ding ding ding as he hammered the nails, then kua kua kua as he scraped at the bark. Between the sounds came his muttering: “No lacquer here… ah, there it is… just a little is flowing out.”

From where we stood we could only pass him the axe or machete when needed, without being able to see clearly what he was doing.

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At the second tree the nails had already been set, so it was possible to climb straight up and scrape away the bark. I realised that this stage, before the raw lacquer sap can really be harvested, is actually the hardest. You must first hammer in the nails, scrape the bark, and open small lacquer tapping incisions. Only later, when we return, can these incisions be gradually deepened to draw out the lacquer.

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The third lacquer tree stood right before us. I felt excited. The sound of hammering nails echoed rhythmically through the forest ding ding ding while the leaves rustled softly and, in the distance, a bamboo rat scurried away with a faint pattering sound.

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This was the moment of fàng shuǐ, the first cut of the season, the preparation before formal tapping. The incision had to be made a little distance from last year’s old scars. Vincent began to scrape away the bark with the curved knife kua kua kua and strips of bark fell to the ground. If the inner layer revealed tiny dark red spots, that was a sign of lacquer, and good lacquer at that.

Once the bark was scraped, a small V-shaped lacquer tapping incision could be made. From it trickled a clear liquid. Vincent said this was bitter water, and told me I could taste it, though it was strong and could cause allergies. I could not resist. I touched a little with my fingertip and tasted it. Instantly, an incredibly fresh fragrance spread through my mouth. It was unforgettable, unlike anything else, and I understood why it was once used in medicine. Some even say raw lacquer sap can be eaten directly. I found it strangely addictive.

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This tree took about five lacquer nails and five incisions, starting from the bottom and working upwards. Vincent said the upper trunk was too thin for him to continue, though some lacquer farmers still climb that high. Traditionally they used wooden nails, hammered in with great force and at a wide angle. Vincent explained that he could not manage that, which is why he invented new metal nails instead.

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At the fourth tree, Vincent told me to try climbing myself. He chose a slightly smaller tree, right in front of me.

He began the same process again, hammering in the lacquer nails and scraping the bark. I recorded many of the sounds of his work; they were beautiful to hear. He pointed out a long hornet above us, but assured me it was not poisonous and not dangerous.

I tied the bottoms of my trousers with rubber bands and quickly started climbing. With the help of the nails, it felt steady and easy to climb, almost effortless. I even thought to myself that maybe next time I could come and tap lacquer on my own.

Up in the tree, I looked around from the height, surrounded by layers upon layers of leaves. I found a fresh lacquer tapping incision that Vincent had just cut, and once again I could not resist tasting the bitter water. It was still so light and sweet, an addictive flavour that lingered.

And then I climbed back down.

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The mountain path was hard to walk, and the tools were heavy, though fortunately we did not have to go far. I was on my period and worried that tiny insects in the forest might be drawn to the smell of blood, but luckily nothing happened. We made it through safely without even seeing a snake.

We did not go very deep into the forest, but lacquer farmers usually walk nearly two hours into the mountains. Each tapping session lasts about five hours. Vincent said he prefers to work from midnight until five in the morning, while many farmers sleep until three or four and then start tapping until late morning. A single tree can bear hundreds of lacquer tapping incisions, and in one day it is possible to collect up to eight jin of raw lacquer sap.

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Even after less than an hour, I could already feel the hardship of lacquer tapping. It made me realise that from now on, I will treat every single gram of lacquer with deep respect.

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