Part 3 My Journey over the Amazon

It was her daydream nature  to deviate from her daily choirs of wood collection or herbs needed for grandmas medicine from the forest plants. The Pira Parana River basin was part of her secret garden,  emerald green glistening through small sparkles of light that barely touched the forest floor, with the towering fauna and canopy  that overlooked her like great Gods.

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Quispe never knew any different, since generations of her tribe had lived in the river banks of the Pira Parana river. According to wisdom of her ancestors the river was the heart of their sacred territory ‘Hee Yaia Goda’ a regions known as the Jaguar shamans of Yurupari. To the outside world we know this as the macro region of the Amazon forest,  forming the river basins being the second longest after the Amazon river. The river runs through Brazil, Paraguay and Argentinian river banks.

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This is were Quispe’s village was miles up  along the marsh land, rich in fertile soil housing thousands of species of animals, plants and exotic trees. Her tribe were left with the task of being Guardians of this  sacred site, which for the Yurupari contained the vital spiritual energy for  humanity that nurtured all beings on earth. For them living here was their sacred responsibility and honour to help maintain the region that helped balance humans and nature. All her life sacred rituals were taught from generations to share the knowledge and traditions to keep the land flourishing.

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As she wandered through the forest paths , normally river basin floods caused by water clogging, it was safe enough to walk further out this season due to dry weather as years passed. The Pira Parana river translated to little sea in the local Guarani language, but unlike the ocean the river with tugs of different depth as it flowed in a spiral valley like a cannel  snake like shape. The soft fauna she walked on with bare feet meant she could move as fast as an athlete allowing her to go further out when the tides were low. The dexterity that she moved through the trees and land resembling the creatures and nature , as she pasted, the animals and insects barley took notice as if they knew her, whereas me and you would cause shudders for birds and creatures to run into hiding.

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The Yurupari people  did not distinguish between nature and humans since Amazonian culture have no sense of separateness from earth only connection - the indigenous sense of identity extends to be part of the land. Quisip’s love of the land was a strong empathetic connection,  she recalls her grandfather calling the whites in the outside world the fallen ones, since when their generation fell they formed ego centric apartness and it is to her ancestors shock how humans can harm this land for riches and resources.

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The noise in the forest was a kaleidoscope of instrumental music melodies, mixed from fish diving through streams,  insects and spiders rustling through  soil, loud leafy river bank rapids, frogs blurting, thousands of species of  animals singing an orchestral hum filling the air.

This part of the Prana riverbanks were the loudest often untouched and unreachable by threats of gold miners or  fishers. Quispe however knew every sound through this soundscape she knew every noise and movement, and rustle of the trees as if in conversation with her family, the wilderness always with her.

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 This was the season of the  red crested cardinal that had just migrated back for warmth and as she walked she looked up for them. There’re not the kind of bird that sits out or is seen in the open, but she could numb out all the sounds and focus on the its distinct melody   - as it sang out a single note, that is drawn out, then a pause then another note and so on.

Quispe repeated its echoes

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 ‘Kweeee    ……. Kweee’  as she cupped round her mouth and tilted her head back to sing back the echo into the tree tops.

 

She loved the  bright red head normally brightest for males, with small black and grey bodies that flew in pairs. The bird native to Bolivia, Argentina was barely seen but Quispe knew the parts of the forest it was likely to fly through and perch and her calling often draw them closer.

She reached down the forest floor to grab a handful of Cyperus leaves and put them in her buffalo suede pouch. It was part of her routine if she saw any of grandma’s medicine plans she would collect and this as it was basis of antibacterial serums for modern day use antimalarial but the tribe were practically immune to mosquitoes.

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From a distance she would just be a spec in the expanse of lush green wet glistening trees and plants- her skin and  their leaves all dotted with pearls of sweat from the moist air of the Amazon temperature. The plants of that region had adapted to the topography of the floods and river basin terrain needs as  the Humbults willow leaned over the river bank and the fauna built dam like structures to form strong resilience to the contact down pour of water flow.

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The tribes that resided there had evolved amongst the forest seeing them as oneness together they cohabited in harmony. The Forest provided everything they needed shelter, medicine, food and love and they returned this as if living with  a family. A biologist would research and name and each item but for the natives it was  family, they knew distinctly which tree species in their taxonomy names and which animals existed and how to coexist intermittently. The modern world has taken too much from nature and it was the tribes task to be the gatekeeps of the land for  hurting the land was like hurting their soul family.

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Quispe had as much love as any tribe member for the forest and nature around them, she knew she had to return to life many times as stories had been told that reincarnation is a further progression to the next life where rebirth allows you to move forward to knowing your true nature. Their task was to protect the land and river for lifetimes to come.

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It is also known to the world that 5% of the natives in these regions protect 80% of the Amazonian land. They returned many times from their ancestors to maintain the land and sometimes their soul mates in this life would guide them.

She still had not seen a Whiteman but recent fires by farmers trying to make land crop field to grow coca or soy  had pushed them to go further inland away from the settlements further up in the Amazon. Stories her grandfather told of the bloodiest conflicts to protecting the land go back 500 years as their  great ancestors roamed the land when it flourished perfectly, but now threats from Gold miners and land owners farmer causing fires, over hunting and global warming have pushed them to retreat.

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Her ancestors lived on this land from 30,000 years ago and as all her tribe believed of how the world she lived in was created,  by the AcomaPueblo people whereby two sisters Iatiku and Nautsiti emerged from a hole in the ground (Sipapu) and when Nautsi left after being tempted by an evil snake Iatiku bored many children making part of the clan. Skywomen of that clan were pushed to live on island Muskrat where she gave birth to a daughter and this was the beginning of the world. Her clan heads also tell another story of creation of an old man who made a women and child of clay and told them to rise and walk so they did. Regardless to the creation it is the Great spirit Wakan Tankan that bonded her community together.

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‘When the Earth is cut the Indians Weep’

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This spirit connection to the land means that Indians and nature are one and when their earth is cut the Indians weep. So her life of nurturing and loving the natural world meant she and her whole community lived in harmony with the land - any disruption she could not understand why man would harm it.

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Her worst fear of the white man was the tragedy of sickness they brought whenever they arrived -  the stories of sicknesses that wiped tribes out the diseases of the old world. For Quispe their knowledge of the medicine man and traditional mixtures allowed them to treat most conditions no one got sick apart from war or extreme tragic accidents.

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As she glided through the forest she stood still she heard the warning sound of the Nacuda night hawk not often around in the day and most often she spotted these awkward hawks that walked like drunken men the name ‘Podgar’ in native language because of they sway, in a drunken swag, as they walked around. She stood still and lied low and waited to see why the hawks were curling not seeing them through the dense forest she moved closer to the river bank as a jaguar crawled with stealth low to the ground.

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Then after a while in the distance, across the river bank to the other side there they were two white men dressed in strange clothes, she once saw the hat her grandfather displayed as an ornament of one of his waged wars. She watched a while at their actions and they struggle to get anywhere further than the edge of the bank from their small canoe boat. To her they were a strange new species of people she had never seen far lighter then her dark caramel skin and wider eyes then hers.

 

‘I tell you this land will give us enough for the next years crop’ In badly fitted clothes Manuel wiped the sweat that had now drenched his body not used to the climate inside the basin he looked and noted some details.

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‘ Well if they know any better they won’t ask where we planted them all they need those Gringos these days is Soy’

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She wasn’t sure if she was afraid, if she breathed she might catch one of those disease that made you yellow or die on the spot. She numbed the sounds of forest out as if she was listening to the caterpillar legs scratch the forest ground and narrowed into them but they were not speaking Tukano, it was a just strange sounds(Spanish) she could not make out.

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They had so many strange clothes on, compared to her Buffalo skirt and pouch, her bare feet and body needed nothing more. She slowly retreated to get news back to camp, as a cat moves away from predator low with stealth. A spec of a fly in the vast rainforest, the sounds of the water alone would drown any noise from her side but she moved quickly silently.

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They both knew it would be hours before they could start anything the air was too moist and the fire would not last a second till the temperature was right so they would have to wade it out.

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Joel thought of the girl he had been attempting the painting for a while and could not get her eyes right. He really loved paining anything his dog, the neighbours or a pear - but her most of all.

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Manuel kept at him, he was the kind of guy that thought nothing other than Maradona, bear , farming, food and women.

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‘Then why don’t you tell me what I like if you think you know and what I think’ he mustered to Manuel as he swirled some rum through his parched mouth

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Joel was the whiter of the two they both had grown up near Buenos Aires from farmer families. Joel loved to paint but nobody knew or believed him really cause he lied so much.

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 He needed the money that’s why he took the job since farming alone and amateur street painting was getting him nowhere, and now out here it  felt like 60 degrees in the wet heat of the Amazon.

 

He would have to play along with  Manuel’s stupid games and entertain him.

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‘ok I love Ninos en dias (Native) women and the carton beer’ he lied hoping it would keep Manuel quit and he could go back to daydreaming of her.

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‘Look if your gonna paint anything paint what you like most? 

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‘So I should paint a Ninos en dias or bear or a pig? Joel really was hoping he could drift into thought rather than continue with this fools conversation.

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‘No paint you walking naked drinking carton bear on a farm? He laughed

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Joel looked at him with his foolish mannerism and even is sarcasm was wasted on Manuel, if he could just get through this night he could get enough money for the year to last him even a break away from his father’s farm live in Buenos Aries and be a real artist.

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‘I’m paining Martesia,  she will make a fine specimen for my work of art. He gleaned as he poured more water into his face now his whole body was tickling with sweat dripping everywhere.

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‘She's not that pretty you can do better I can take you to La standa and find 10 better than her’ Manuel nodded setting out the pickers for the first ground area.

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‘yes your right’ Joel just went along hoping he would stop

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‘you agree too much ‘ Manuel chanted

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‘yes I do ‘ Joel mumbled

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Joel grew up most of his life north of Buenos Aires and after his mother died when he was 14 he was sent to a boarding school  in Cordoba. The youngest of 5 he was always drawn to nature, not because they grew up on the farm but the school being close to La Carrera he would escape there often grounded for weeks since he hated school.

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So being out here he really didn’t mind, but the Amazon was too wild and hot and the noises kept him on edge rather than calm. What he was about to do surly he had a conscious he pondered. He saw a red headed cardinel couple together singing a long tone then pause and again and drifted into thought of her. Night would soon set in and it would be done and either of them would have to escape from natives and gov commands before getting caught.

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Unlike the natives Joel was more afraid of the scary wilderness and had no sense of spiritual force that Quispe and her people formed - a kinship with the aliveness of the world around them as interconnected being part of their home. It is this that he would not see the Amazon as she did, but the wild was just an object for the whites to use and destroy for self gain. The tribes resented the Whiteman since to them  earth and life was just an empty space between birth and death they fill with enjoyment just from their own efforts.

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‘What about the Mestizo(natives)’ Joel had loved nature so surly doing this now he was getting cold feet

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‘What the savages that think this is their land, we all deserve it too why should they look they don’t know any different they live out here with no idea of the world we can cast them out’

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By nightfall the tribe had gathered and Quispe had told them of the men and the lords were already gathering to safeguard the camp and plan their route to them.

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I had slept most of the way on my flight above the Amazon with my Lonely planet still unopened as flew from Havana to Buenos Aires and a world below me was about to be set on fire. Little old me flew over not prepared for what Argentina was unfolding as a fire blazed causing our flight to reroute.

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More to come in Part 4 of my travels in Argentina……

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