Robin M . Wright
Department of Religion
University of Florida - Gainesville, Fl
Hipana and the upper Aiary are the locations of sacred sites important for all Baniwa and many other Arawakan-speaking peoples of the Northwest Amazon. It is an area where traditions still work, the communities are proud of their ethnic heritage, and are faced constantly with new changes coming from outside. Support for the Aiary Baniwa struggles to revitalize their traditions involves a new perspective of the possibilities that the traditional knowledge AND non-indigenous knowledges can work together without one being given preferential treatment over the other.
Around 2001, Alberto and Ercilia, Mandu’s son and daughter, formulated a project for the “Cultural Revitalization of Baniwa culture of the Aiary River”. It developed from the observation that:
“For many years we have lived under the integrationist policy of the Brazilian government which has led those populations to little by little lose their cultural values. Although the official policy brings with it new directions in development, they do not meet the needs of the indigenous peoples who demonstrate the need to preserve their cultural traditions.
And that:
“Contact with the national society and the introduction of foreign values to the local indigenous culture has provoked significant changes in the indigenous communities with health problems, loss of traditions, problems related to migration, decrease in the indigenous population leading these communities to become more dependent. This situation must be reverted such that the local indigenous tradition can be valorized, providing space for a greater harmony with nature, and those who live by utilizing their traditional knowledge can provide sustainable responses to their forms of life in the region of the Aiary River.”(project statement, 2002) Both observations are vital to understanding what “cultural revitalization” means to a community, the “Baniwa of the Aiary River”, As we have pointed out, Mandu as head-shaman of Uapui and a lifelong resident of the village, has maintained a very protective relation to the rapids and the boulders there with petroglyphs in abundance. Walking in the space of the sacred rapids, hearing the constant low drone of the water passing over the boulders, understanding the meanings of the great boulders in the center of the rapids, - all of these powerful experiences and many more permeate Hipana Rapids, reminding people constantly of the ‘Before world’, although they may not know much more of what the content of those ‘traditions’ are all about.
Perhaps to the peoples downriver, mostly evangelicals, or those with more intense contacts with the non-indigenous peoples, the rapids of creation may not mean as much. The evidence shows, however, that today, amongst the evangelicals, there is a tendency to
“valorize” the traditions, including the most polemical shamanisms. This has certainly been the case with Andre Baniwa, young evangelical leader of the Walipere-dakenai phratry. He has taken numerous steps to re-vitalize Baniwa culture amongst the communities of the mid-Içana River, through a long-time partnership between the OIBI (Indigenous Organization of the Içana River Basin), which he founded and coordinated until recently, and funding and other philanthropic agencies, Brazilian and non-indigenous organizations each of which has its own agenda or projects and research. It is very easy to see how the principal NGO in the region, the Socio-Environmental Institute (ISA), has served as a key cultural broker in the relations between the Baniwa of the mid-Içana, and non-indigenous peoples, or yalanawinai (in Baniwa).1
Alliances with knowledgeable and politically savvy, young indigenous leaders have been very important in the development of the cultural revitalization movement. Intellectuals, such as Gersem Santos, the first Baniwa to earn a Ph.D. in Anthropology, has had many years of experience living in Brasilia, close to the centers of power, as well as being active in indigenous politics, international human rights fora, and academia,. Together, Gersem and Andre Baniwa are considered by many to be the two most eloquent political leaders of the past generation on the Upper Rio Negro, both very articulate in Portuguese, and who maintain excellent political relations with a broad-base of indigenous communities (Baniwa and Bare, Tariana primarily) and non-indigenous organizations. Andre is now the vice-prefect of the capitol city of São Gabriel da Cachoeira, and Gersem works in a very high position in the Brazilian Ministry of Culture.
A recent (2002) documentary film, “Baniwa. Uma hist6ria de plantas e curas” (Baniwa. A story of plants and cures) about the political career of Andre dramatically illustrates his long suffering from assault sorcery, which clearly supports the argument that among the evangelicals, sorcery continues to be a major problem.2 Given this, and the desire that the Baniwa community as a whole come to grips with the “problem of sorcery”, paradoxically, manhene could even result in the return of jaguar-shamanism, thus making for a more complete ‘cultural revitalization’ among all Baniwa communities.3
When Alberto da Silva wrote the project for the “Cultural Revitalization of Baniwa culture of the Aiary River”, he emphasized the distinction between the ‘traditional’ Baniwa of the Aiary, and the “Christian evangelicals” of the Içana who have “abandoned the ways”.
“It is important to repeat here that the traditional institutions of shamanism, rituals of initiation and dance festivals only continue to be practiced on the Aiary River. On the Içana River, the Baniwa are nearly all evangelical Christians having abandoned these traditions many years ago. On the Aiary River, there are today only a few shamans still alive (six, to be exact) and all of them are quite old (in their 60s and 70s). Unlike in the past when nearly all communities had practicing shamans, some of whom were so powerful as to be considered wise men, today, the jaguar shaman is in danger of extinction. Similarly for the chanters of initiation rituals, only the elders of the communities who still perform initiation rituals know these chants. Without them, the Baniwa believe, they will no longer have the means to form new generations of adults in the traditional way. It is thus fundamental that this knowledge be preserved and transmitted. These are the two most important objectives of this project.”
A second objective was to train more indigenous researchers so that they could then do research on their culture and have this research published through the regional indigenous organization, the FOIRN. Thus.
“This proposal responds to the need to organize the cultural productions of the region, since the indigenous people of the Aiary believe that these productions can be researched and developed by the members of the indigenous communities of the Aiary River themselves. What is necessary at the moment are financial resources so that the activities programmed can become a reality. Towards this end, this project represents an initiative, still small, that could result in the strengthening of the traditions of the indigenous peoples throughout the region.”
The resources requested were to be employed in specific activities such as the following:
“To organize meetings and discussions on Cultural Revitalization and Traditional Medicine of the Baniwa among various indigenous
groups of the Aiary (communities affiliated with the CECIBRA, - the Center for Indigenous Culture of the Aiary River Basin, the first version of what later became the “Malikai Dapana” - as well as representatives of the AC1RA, UMIRA, and FOIRN, organization of school teachers). Stories include: The Origins of the Ethnic Groups; The Origin of Tobacco and the Classification of the Ethnic Groups through the Power of Tobacco; Traditional Indigenous Education and Traditional Dances.
-“To gather, systematize and publish the stories, geographies and other aspects of traditional knowledge for use in the indigenous schools of the region; themes to be focused in the books are: the Origin of each Ethnic group, with drawings; Home Medicine; the Origin Myth of the Culture hero Jurupari; Chants of the shamans.
“-To build a center in the style of the traditional longhouse (dimensions: 90 feet by 40 feet) which will serve as a “culture center”
where the activities and meetings of the CECIBRA will be held, as well as a center for indigenous cultural activities.
“-To organize and prepare medicinal plant gardens for general use among the ethnic groups of the region. The gardens will be planted to the side of the culture center and will be utilized in training students from the schools of the region during the meetings organized by the CECIBRA.
“-To set up a library with a collection of materials (books, tapes, audio-visual materials) on the indigenous culture of the Aiary River.
Concluding the project, the authors declared:
“The most important results expected are: (1) that the traditions of shamanism and initiation rituals (with their specialized chants), as well as the use of plant medicines will be conserved and revitalized; (2) that a greater part of the Baniwa population will become more aware of the value of revitalizing their traditional culture, as well as the value of the books that will be produced collectively for use in schools and courses; and (3) that a traditional longhouse will be built which will serve as a Cultural Center that will contain an organized library of books, tapes, and other audio-visual material that will serve the needs of the schools of the region of the Aiary River,”
Project Development One of the initial objectives of the project was to promote “traditional medicine” but not in the sense of training
“indigenous health agents” or introducing home gardens of plant remedies, as was being done by communities of the Içana River in collaboration with the Federal University of Amazonas. Rather, the project focused on the “true jaguar shamans” of whom few were left in the late 1990s and all of them in very advanced age. No one at that time seemed to be aware that, with the loss of the true jaguar-shamans’ knowledge, “traditional medicine” among the Baniwa would be moving in a direction that had no ground in the traditional cosmology and metaphysics of shamanism. The principal Baniwa political leaders were evangelical, which meant that they supported the “home gardens and health agents” approach but not necessarily the metaphysical shamans. It was only among the Aiary River communities that such a project to support the transmission of jaguar- shamans’ knowledge had any hope of becoming a reality.
After years of fruitless searching for support for the “shamans’ school” project, we learned of the work of Michael Harner’s Foundation for Shamanic Studies which supported communities that were seeking to keep their traditional shamans’ practice alive, and more than that, to revitalize the interest among the younger generation to pursue the arduous training of becoming a true shaman. The Foundation immediately approved the project to construct a “shamans’ school” - which would have, among its activities, to stimulate training of new apprentices and research on Baniwa jaguar-shamans, and went much further by recognizing Manuel da Silva for its
“Living Treasure” award, including a certificate and a small annual pension. By “Living Treasure”, the Foundation referred to the extraordinary knowledge that Manuel detains and the use to which he has put this knowledge to guide his people according to the ways of the ancestors. Both Manuel and his brother Mario are now the head-masters of a school of apprentices - some of whom had already begun their training prior to the creation of the school, but the majority are young apprentices who began their training because of the new school.
The Center for Cultural Revitalization, or CECIBRA as it was initially called, acquired a new and vital function of transmittinging shamanic knowledge. Alberto and Mandu thus renamed it”Malikai Dapana”, House of Shamanic Knowledge. This house was built more or less in the style of the traditional longhouses. It may even be larger in size; my initial impressions of being inside it at night were of a large cathedral in the forest.
Inauguration of the House. The inauguration of the Malikai Dapana took place over two days, November30-December 1, 2009.1 had invited my friend and ex-student, Marcio Meira, the President of the National Indian agency (or FUNAI), to join us in the inauguration which he kindly did; if it wasn’t for his support in providing plane transportation directly to the village - where there is an airstrip4,1 doubt whether there would have been an inauguration at all. Members of all Aiary River villages came to meet the President and to participate in the ceremonies. The administrator of the regional FUNAI offices, Benedito Machado, was also present. My son, Michel, filmed the entire ceremony now edited into several short videos, which may be seen on the Foundation’s website, and also my webpage.
We were greeted at the landing-strip by Jose Felipe, who was my main interlocutor in the 1970s. He wore the dance headdress of a
‘dance-owner’ as he pointed the tiny Cessna in which we flew, to a safe landing on the old airstrip. Many people whom I knew as children came to greet us and eventually, lead us into the new “House of Shamans’ Knowledge”, which was strikingly beautiful in its decorations of sprigs of sweet-smelling branches, strips of bark woven into bird-like shapes hanging from the ceiling, and the incredibly intricate architecture of the very high ceiling of palm thatch, open at each end of the house, allowing refreshing drafts of air to blow through.
The initial presentations were conducted by the grade school teachers, one of whom was the son of a shaman I had worked with in the 1970s, and himself among the advanced apprentices of the newly-forming school. He coordinated the dance presentations by the students of the grade-school in Uapui - all of them executed with excellent coordination and a lively spirit - dances of the acará fish, the saúva ants, and others. As the regional administrator of the FUNAI later pointed out, he as an Indian felt glad to see it was the younger
generation who was dancing and not, as it had usually been in the recent past, just the older generation. I too was impressed and told the audience that, in the 1970s, I had seen none of those dances. Manuel da Silva himself had told me back then that those dances were already “coming to an end”, as though he wished to assure the non-Indians of that time that they were already “becoming civilized”, following the orders of the missionaries. Thirty-five years later, I was delighted to see that, much to the contrary, the dances were more lively than ever before. There was a new pride in the dance attire, the beautiful gifts of necklaces and woven baskets given by young men and women to the “authorities” who were visiting.
The vigor and enthusiasm of the afternoon dances by the younger generations seemed like a light taste of the evening performances, when an array of dances in the style of the Baniwa poodali (or “dabukuri”, in lingua geral, the old trade language of the region) was performed by the adult generation, and the elderly people. Two dance-leaders - Jose Felipe being one - led the dances (see photo on front cover of this book) . Caxiri, the lightly fermented brew of manioc, açai fruit and sweet potato, was served in endless rounds, as the dances continued. It was an extremely pleasant feeling to be sitting in the huge, dimly lit longhouse the product of our labors together -, with the buzz of conversation-, laughter-, and good feelings amongst hosts and guests-, as the caxiri continued to go around-, and special performances were done for the “authorities”. One elderly lady gave the caxiri to us and, as she did, sang a traditional drinking song when offering beer. A song sung from the heart, the schoolteacher Plinio translated, of how she was just a poor and sad, lonely widow.
She enjoined us to be happy as we remember our wives and girlfriends back home. The style of these traditional pakamaratakan songs is to sing of who they are, their identity, and their sentiments. At a break in the performance, Alberto spoke the traditional offering of commemorating the “humble” dances to the “illustrious” authorities and presented us with special gifts of placards woven with our names, or especially elaborate necklaces. Whether as a gesture of thanks for the help, or as a gesture of a refined culture with very appropriate ways of expressing sentiments, the organization of the inauguration was a memorable expression of how cultural life is valorized, given great worth, the greatest valuable that the Baniwa have.
But the highlight came with the shamans’ “dance” or “blessing” which was saved for last, clearly as the performance moved from the social, secular dances to the sacred reality of the Other World. Reconstructing the scene, Mandu entered the longhouse together with his brother Mario and all of the 12 apprentices.5 The two principal shamans squatted in the center of the line forming the ‘school of shamans’ apprentices’. Three of the more advanced apprentices sat as a group to one side of line formation. Jose Felipe, as the most senior of the new generation of shamans, directed the seating patterns: Plinio purposefully held up a rock which evidently had been handed down from his father and his father’s father, etc. I gathered he wished to show that he was the ‘owner’ of a special power that he was displaying as a credential of his advanced knowledge and power.
The two master-shamans removed their instruments from their bags and placed them carefully on the ground in front of them.
Mandu untangled his jaguar-tooth collar -the highly prestigious symbol of the powerful jaguar-shaman. At Manuel’s instructions, Mario blew parika snuff into the nostrils of all the apprentices seated in order of rank and power, ending with the “authorities” each of whom was given a light snort. After blowing protective tobacco smoke over the group of apprentices, Mandu and Mario began to chant between themselves, which was soon followed by all the apprentices chanting together in soft unison, to the accompaniment of the two rattles of Mario and Mandu in cadenced rhythms. All the while, the laughter of children playing outside provided a lyric counterpoint to the shamanic spirit and power, the “Reality of the Universe”, being sung inside the house.
The two schoolteachers sought to interpret for the “authorities” the meaning of the songs. One stated that the shamans were
“memor-izing”, i.e., re-member-ing, re-connecting to the ancient, sacred reality of the Other World of the divinities, of “the great jaguar disciples divinity” (which would be the Dzaui malinyai, jaguar shamans, Nhiaperikuli, Dzulifeh, Kuwai, and perhaps Eeri) - whom Manuel oftentimes compares to the creator Divinity Nhiaperikuii and his “tribe” of 12 disciples?. I personally do not believe the number of apprentices was fortuitous. The other, Plinio, eloquently explained that the work of the shaman is a “tradition of curing sickness”; today “there is the science and surgery of biomedicine”, but “we cannot forget our tradition”. “All we have left now”, he said,
“is Mandu”. He defended a critical argument in favor of the project of the shamans’ school: “sicknesses that affect the Baniwa that only
“is Mandu”. He defended a critical argument in favor of the project of the shamans’ school: “sicknesses that affect the Baniwa that only