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CREW JOURNALS By Todd Southgate - Videographer For the first time during this tour I actually FEEL like I’m in the Amazon. It was a strange series of regulatory blockades that popped up out of nowhere, and blindsided most, regardless, the end result was that the Amazon Guardian could not travel the Cuniua River and into Deni lands - it was not allowed. A second watercraft was needed and hence the Commondante Savio was commissioned for this leg of the journey. It is a true Amazonian watercraft – probably a wee extravagant in size and utilities than most, still, it looks and feels the part. Don’t get me wrong. The Guardian is a beautiful ship and meets all needs. Still, on a purely selfish and personal note, it is large and metal, therefore visually and viscerally out of place - a bonus for campaigning, and problem for personal sightseeing. In the hours that immediately followed our departure from our friends, colleagues and the Guardian – the open air, slow pace, and general scenery with which the Savio allows you to experience - there was no escaping the invigorating tingle that you were somewhere uniquely special.
The Savio has three decks; two, somewhat, sheltered from the elements and a top deck with a ceiling of stars at night. White and made of wood it is considerably smaller than the Guardian, so it is permitted to navigate the smaller rivers and uncharted tributaries. The cabins are tiny (Ney, the cabins were made for Snow White’s dwarfs), and not all crewmembers could be accommodated. Not surprisingly, most preferred to slumber dangling from the roof of the second deck in a hammock – in true Amazonian tradition. Hence that feeling of being somewhere special burgeoned. The journey from the mouth of the Tapaua to the first Deni village took about three days. We moored at nights because visibility was nil, and made one or two stops along the way to help out a sick child in a local village. Other than that it was a straight shot (well, as straight as you can get on a river with more twists than liquorice). To attempt to describe the sights and sounds along this part of the river is best left to professional wordsmiths, or those that can command prose as an artist commands his canvas. For me, it is an exercise in futility to manipulate these media into some form of reflective meaning. Luckily, I am an image merchant – I have a berth on this great voyage in exchange for the televisual documentation of this tour. So I can fall back on one medium to try and illustrate the brilliance of the Amazon. But sadly I know, as hard as I try, and as powerful as some of the images will be, the true sense and feeling of being here will not be conveyed. It cannot. Filled with excitement and curiosity we all listened to Aparicio (A man who has spent many years with the Indians of the Amazon) speak about the Deni and what we could expect, as the Savio slowly meandered the river periodically interrupting mating pairs of parrots that would belt out a squawk of disapproval as they crossed the river looking to regain their solitude. “Observation and participation” were two words that were etched into my mind from these talks. The Deni are a gregarious people, equally as curious as us, and equally ready for a good healthy laugh. This became evident immediately when we arrived at the first village of Cidadezinha. It was hugs and smiles as Paulo leaped from the Savio- it is obvious he had left a good impression with them during his last trip to these lands. The laughter started instantaneously as Paulo began to clown with the children under the approving gaze of the Chiefs.
For a photographer or videographer, the plethora of imagery that can be gathered is unquestionable. The children have the most beautiful faces, and when adorned with Deni painting, beauty and tradition merge further illuminating their special glow. It is hard NOT to fulfil our tour-image requirements. However, I have to admit there were many moments when I needed to leave the beta beast behind just to soak up the uniqueness of where I was, and to follow Aparicio's advice. With broken Portuguese and more creative gestures than I knew possible, I could joke with the young lads (most of the women speak only Deni). “Estou farta de piuns,… es muito calor hoje’”, literally the extent of my Portuguese, still enough to illicit a smile, pat on the back, or in many cases (when my pronunciation failed) a curious but approving look. When you look around at the village and see the homes constructed out of the natural building materials courtesy of the surrounding environs you get a sense of traveling back in time. Or a sense that time, in the larger historical sense of the word, doesn’t exist. WE pushed into the 21 century, survived Y2K, signed what new obligatory contracts needed signing, added the newest updates to our computers, and checked yet another year off on the ever-changing calendar, and all the while, the Deni existed, simply and uncomplicated: literally unchanged and pure for hundreds of years. True, they know there is another world out there. It is emblazoned on the chest of many a Deni man and women. Logos, branding and dated concert shirts, tattered and frayed, are worn by a few – still, the essence, the SPIRIT, of who they are is as true today as it was when the early Shamans declared these lands terra da Deni. This became most apparent, at least to me, following the festa, which was prepared for our arrival, as well as the arrival of the other Chiefs. Under April’s full moon, men, women and children bound arms and sang and danced for hours. The Deni are an inclusive people, all were invited to partake. Beautiful oral rhythms filled the blackened sky, the lunar glow cut through the abyss of night just enough so that you could make out the smiles on everyone’s faces. Periodical bursts of laughter would break up the mesmerizing rhythms of song, and at times, chant – obviously one of us gringos had done something amusing. A step to the left when it should have been to the right, perhaps. It is not all happiness that embraces these villages. Sadly, there are health problems: malaria, a nasty, and more alarmingly, endemic viral disease takes its toll on village populations from time to time. But it is not just the tropical diseases that prove lethal. Even a common flue (introduced by non-Indians) can cripple, or even worse, decimate a village. Many of the adults also have poor teeth because of the introduction of sugar. And as beautiful as the Amazon is, it is also filled with many dangers. Predetory jaguars and alligators, and a cacophony of creatures which slither, crawl and bite are all deadly realities that the Deni must deal with from day to day. To top it off, a large nasty logging company wants to set up shop on their lands and exploit their resources. Resources they rely on! I mentioned earlier that the Deni live a simple uncomplicated existence, but now I must rethink this observation. I don’t believe I have ever had to deal with the degree of threats and life or death complications that face these wonderful people (other than meetings at GPI). I doubt that few in the developed world do. For this I respect them more. The Deni are a strong people, as well as proud, and I a feel enriched and konw my life is a little bit better for having briefly encountered them. I just hope their encounter with us was equally rewarding. PS! As I write this returning to the Amazon Guardian, that feeliing of being in the Amazon is greater now than ever before. 324 piun bites are festering into an itch of unprecendented proportions - even by Northern Canadian mosquito standards. The Savio was nice, but bring on the Guardian. I need a shower (so I'm told) and my equipment needs to dry out. It was a wonderful journey, but there's no place like home. more
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