Photo Courtesy of Carolina Delgado

Appreciating the possibilities of the Jungle with Carolina Delgado

Carolina Delgado is a Bolivian anthropologist who has explored the cultures of indigenous communities in the jungles of Santa Cruz and Beni over the last 14 years. She has led the way in shifting the focus of academic research on Bolivia away from Andean cultures and towards those of the tierras bajas.

According to Delgado, the jungle is still considered a foreign, unknown entity, even to many Bolivians. This mystery is what first attracted the scholar, who is originally from La Paz, to the culture of the tierras bajas. When she entered the world of academics, Delgado identified a focus of funding and research directed towards Andean cultures in the country. This offered her a wealth of unexplored research opportunities to investigate jungle communities. Fifteen years later, the focus of academic research is shifting towards the jungle, not only validating Delgado’s choices, but also placing her in a privileged position to publish and distribute her research in Bolivia and abroad. At present, she is happy to see that young Bolivian anthropologists are choosing to study indigenous lowland communities rather than the previously scripted path of Andean research.

For indigenous communities, the jungle is not a threat. Instead, it  provides resources for life and healing.

With the mysterious reputation of the jungle comes a multitude of misconceptions. For Delgado, the jungle at first ‘seemed very dangerous,’ but through the indigenous communities’ teachings, ‘…the space turned into one of life and survival.’ Her initial fear of the environment waned as she established connections with the space. Delgado was struck by how the inhabitants of the jungle, especially women, understood and related to the environment. She found that the women of the Chiquitano tribe, for example, knew the names and uses of all the local plants, which allowed them to see the opportunities and resources that the jungle offers. For these communities, the jungle is not a threat. Instead, it provides resources for life and healing.

Yet these communities themselves are subject to stereotypes and discrimination. Delgado speaks of how her female ‘allies’ and teachers in the jungle, suffer discrimination in urban situations. ‘Indigenous women are all too often treated without respect,’ she explains, ‘as if they were ignorant… It is assumed that because they are indigenous and poor, they are stupid and dirty. Meanwhile, when I was ignorant of how to live in the jungle, these women helped and guided me.’

From Delgado’s perspective, the longevity of the ‘noble savage’ concept is an issue. Studying how indigenous communities combine western medicine with traditional practices, Delgado has seen how the notion that jungle communities should be isolated from the outside world can be patronising and antiquated. The isolated ‘purity’ of indigenous tribes, she sustains, is an obsolete idea. What should be studied now is how they engage with the modernised world, since indigenous communities need flexible and commercial ties with cities in order to be sustainable. Sustainability is vital to avoid a greater threat to these cultures: immigration to the cities.

The lessons Delgado learned from the jungle have had far reaching personal and professional applications for her. ‘You begin to realise that it is a friendly place, in which you have to adapt yourself rather than the other way around,’ she says. ‘If you are not aggressive towards the environment, harmony can exist.’ To illustrate this point, she uses the concept of ‘hichi’ as an example. Hichi is the spirit that protects living things, to whom you must ask permission before you cut down a tree or go on hunt. The failure to pay respect to this spirit threatens illness or even death to the perpetrator.

The connection between physical health and spiritual wellbeing is another insight that Delgado takes from the jungle. According to this view, everything is formed of connections and relationships between the different dimensions of life. This manner of thinking has helped her make sense and bring order to her everyday life outside the jungle.

Interpersonal relations are also integral to indigenous tribes. The concept of community and unselfishness can inform how one develops relationships with people and with nature. ‘Everything, everything changed because of what they have taught me,’ Delgado says.

The isolated ‘purity’ of indigenous tribes, Delgado sustains, is an obsolete idea. What should be studied now is how they engage with the modernised world

Rather than feeling nostalgia about home when in the jungle, Delgado has found that the more you understand the jungle, the more you miss it. It provides a space within which you can exist; a place of companionship. Delgado says she never felt feelings of loneliness in the lowlands, just the majesty of her surroundings. ‘You actually feel a huge sense of companionship and patternicity in your life that  you miss when you leave,’ she reflects.

Having identified the unfulfilled potential of the Amazon, Delgado tackled the frontier by studying, learning and adapting to it, rather than forcing her culture upon it. The jungle still instills fear to many outsiders, but what Delgado has learned from its inhabitants is that fear of the jungle can be mitigated by discovering or establishing one’s place within it and adopting a position of respect. Currently she is relishing the opportunity to communicate the findings of her research to the world of academia, which is finally waiting with open arms and interest.

Photos: Chris Lunnon

The colourful cacophony of an Amazonian town

San Ignacio de Moxos is usually a sleepy Amazonian town, but come the end of July, San Ignacio erupts into a festival of fire, faith and jubilation. This is the Fiesta de Moxos, a peculiar festival that celebrates the evangelising of the native people of Moxos the unique local culture of the region.

The festival is bewildering. It is both a cacophony of noise, emanating from a fleet of marching bands that descends on the town plaza, and a feast for the eyes, with locals of all ages adorned in fabulous colour. It is also well choreographed. The hundreds of performers seem to know exactly where to be and when, but most onlookers appear only to be able to gauge the spectacle, as the meaning of the parades is difficult to ascertain.

The most striking aspect of the fiesta is the warrior dance of the Macheteros. All the Macheteros are male and they dance solemnly to music from their colonial roots. What’s most impressive about the Macheteros are their phenomenal headdresses, which are adorned with effervescent Paraba feathers. Their dance is a Moxeño tradition from before the Spanish arrival and it is meant to show how everything that dies gets resuscitated. Thanks to the fusion of catholicism and indigenous Moxeño culture, the dance is seen today as a representation of the resurrection of Christ.

The festival is bewildering. It is both a cacophony of noise, emanating from a fleet of marching bands, and a feast for the eyes, with locals adorned in fabulous colour.

The festival focuses on how the Jesuit order that was founded by San Ignacio brought Catholicism to the Moxos plains and ‘civilised’– from the Spanish perspective – the Moxeño people. Archaeological evidence, however, suggests the Moxeño civilisation was one of the most sophisticated in the Amazon rainforest, which raises questions about why they appear to have embraced Catholicism with open arms.

Juan de Soto, a nurse from Santa Cruz who brought Jesuit priests to the Moxos plains in 1669, had first visited the Moxos region two years earlier. He wasn’t on a mission to conquer, or even to convert, but met travelling Moxeño businessmen and returned with them to distribute medicines. The initial relationship of the Jesuits with the Moxos focused on the exchange of cultural ideas. But the original Jesuit fathers grouped many of the local tribes together, which caused them to lose their languages and much of their original culture. There was then a smallpox epidemic in 1743 that decimated much of the population. The loss of language and culture, however, was more a strategy of transition to an fused cultural identity than an act of suppression by colonial overlords. The Jesuit priest Antonio de Orellana is said to have asked the first group of indians he baptised, the Casaveano Indians, whether their neighbouring groups, including the Tapimonos and Punuanas, wanted the same – though it is important to remember the reliability of sources about this period of history is questionable.

Yet, in spite of its history, the festival is still an incredible sight to behold. The main aspect is the parade, which starts at the indigenous cabildo in the back of the town cathedral, and makes its way all around the town. Along with the Macheteros are the equally striking Achus, masters of the forest and guardians of the flag of San Ignacio. The Achus wear sombresuits and have bizarre, clumsily large, wooden facemasks. Come nightfall, the Achus pack their intricate hats with fireworks, before running into the screaming crowds in a sea of sparks.

Joining the Macheteros and Achus are a host of weird and wonderfully costumed locals. Their costumes seem intricate and beautiful, but unfortunately much of their meaning seems to have been lost over the centuries. Even the names, Machetero and Achus, seem to have lost their meaning over time.

The highlight of the parade is the bust of San Ignacio himself. Strangely enough, it is he, and not Juan de Soto or Antonio de Orellana, who is most revered, even though he played a marginal role in the unique fate of the town. Then, there are the old ladies dressed in pink, and ‘roman guards’ who parade the bust, adding colourful weirdness to the extravagance of the celebration.

The final event is the local government’s parade, made up of mostly white and wealthy landowners who bears the flag of San Ignacio. Once the parade is over, most of the indigenous locals get drunk and enjoy a savage bullfight.

The highlight of the parade, is the bust of San Ignacio himself. It is he who is most revered, despite the fact he played a marginal role in the unique fate of the town.

A visit to the Fiesta de Moxos poses more questions than it answers. At a trivial level, one wonders what on earth one has witnesses and whether this is truly the most eccentric place on Earth. Historically speaking, one may wonder about the cultures that have been lost, despite the evident fusion of the Moxeño and Spanish civilisations.

Photos: Chris Lunnon

Wild animals are rehabilitated and cared for at the Comunidad Wara Yassi

In July 2018, a beautiful jaguar called Juancho died of old age under the care of the Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi. His life had started out particularly rough. His legs had been broken in an accident as a baby and hadn’t fused back together properly. This meant that the zoo he was held in, in Santa Cruz, decided it best not to show him to the public, but instead keep him in a two-metre-square concrete enclosure. Not only that, the staff at the zoo regularly cleaned the space with fire. After an accident one day, Juancho was injured, blinded by the flames. Soon after that tragic event, he was rescued by the Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi.

The Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi looks after many wild Bolivian animals, including a rhea named Matt Damon and fierce jaguars and pumas, all of whom are victims of the illegal wildlife trade. Inti Wara Yassi was founded in 1992 by a group of Bolivian volunteers who worked with limited resources, mainly focusing on improving the social development of impoverished children from El Alto. Over time, the group’s main mission evolved into raising awareness about the issues of protecting biodiversity in Bolivia. Inti Wara Yassi now has three animal-rescue refuges in the county: Parque Machia, in Villa Tunari near Cochabamba; Parque Ambue Ari, in the Santa Cruz Department; and Parque Jacj Cuisi, near Rurrenabaque in the La Paz department.

In Parque Ambue Ari, Inti Wara Yassi cares for a troupe of four howler monkeys – two brothers, Lucho and Luis; two females, Bruna and Sabrina – and another male, the lonely Biton, who, due to his aggressive nature, must be kept separate from the others. The monkeys are all former pets who were physically and mentally abused. They lacked socialisation, making them unlikely to ever be able to roam the wild freely again. They were taken from their natural environment during their childhood, and they don’t possess the skills necessary to survive in the wild, including the ability to defend their territory or to attract mates.

Critically, these animals have also lost their fear of humans. Ironically, given that humans have destroyed their ability to live in the wild, these howlers see people as ‘safe’ because of their unfortunate childhoods as pets. ‘Luis, especially, regularly pesters for cuddles,’ bemoans Bella, an Inti Wara Yassi volunteer. If the animals would be reintroduced into the wild, they’d likely be attracted to nearby human communities and be at high risk of recapture. This is especially evident with Biton the recluse, who regularly goes rogue on his walks and leaves the forest for human camps when he can.

Whilst the social effects of pethood are bad for the animals, the developmental effects are even more critical. Although the trope of a monkey eating a banana is near universal, bananas are rather fatty. Because captive monkeys are usually overfed with bananas and other unhealthy foods, most of the rescued animals at Inti Wara Yassi arrive with weight issues, either overweight from to inactivity or horrifically malnourished because they are incapable of digesting the food they were fed.

The twin howler brothers, Lucho and Luis, exhibit the neglect they once suffered from. Before they were adopted by Inti Wara Yassi, they lived as pets in Santa Cruz. They were rescued from their owners at different times – Lucho much earlier than Luis. Consequently, whilst Lucho has grown into an impressive, bulked-out, alpha-male howler monkey, Luis is much spindlier and timid. This is due to Luis’s lengthier captivity and diet of sugary fruit-juice packets, which has had disastrous consequences for his health. He suffers from gastrointestinal problems and underdeveloped bones. Sadly, Luis’s story is not uncommon. Pet monkeys are often discarded once they reach adulthood, when they’re no longer cute and cuddly. And after going through adolescence with an extremely poor diet, their bodies are poorly developed and they are incapable of fending for themselves in the wild.

Consequently, the staff at Inti Wara Yassi are only able to reintroduce howler monkeys to the wild if they can be integrated into a well-socialised, interdependent troupe. This reintroduction mostly occurs at the organisation’s Parque Ambue Ari location, in the north of the Santa Cruz department, where Inti Wara Yassi owns the land (thanks in part to a collaboration between the refuge and Jonathan Cassidy, the owner of the British travel company Quest Overseas).

The staff at Parque Ambue Ari work hard to ensure that the animals in their care have the best quality of life possible. Big cats are taken for extensive walks in their natural habitat by trained volunteers, two of them attached to ropes that secure the animal and a third for backup. Meanwhile, the howler monkeys have successfully rediscovered how to move through the trees, thanks to the tireless work of volunteers trying to discourage them from walking along the ground, a behaviour they had learned whilst in captivity.

Enrichment programmes are also used to enhance the quality of life. Because captive animals are starved of environmental stimulation, yet retain a lot of their natural instincts, they often become trapped in a cycle of negative behaviours leading to a downward spiral towards aggression. The aim of enrichment therefore is to increase the number of wild behaviours the animals can carry out in spite of the unnatural environment.

‘Ambue Ari has to be very careful with the enrichment activities it choses, as different cats will react wildly differently,’ says volunteer coordinator Amy Rogers. For example, a common enrichment method is to wrap food in leaves and then placing it in difficult-to-reach areas around the cat’s enclosure. Whilst some cats may relish the opportunity to search for food around their enclosure, others that are more possessive of their food find the experience very stressful.

Inti Wara Yassi must also fundraise to keep the animals in its care safe. The food and medication necessary for the lifetime of a single howler monkey can run up to US$7,000. And the refuge’s infrastructure costs even more. Rupi, one of the jaguars, received a new US$25,000 enclosure after he outgrew his old one. The funds were raised through a broad fundraising network, which includes the UK-registered Friends of Inti Wara Yassi charity, as well as contributions from the refuge’s largely European volunteers.

Underfunding and lack of resources means we will likely never know the true extent of the damage from animal trafficking until it is too late.

Lack of funds and a general ambivalence to the issue are common obstacles for wildlife-rescue organisations. The Bolivian government has its own law-enforcement agency, POFOMA, that is tasked with the confiscation of illegal wildlife from pet markets and people’s homes. However, the agency is chronically underfunded and under-resourced. And even once POFOMA rescues an animal, the agency is challenged with finding an appropriate refuge. Wildlife refuges across the country are increasingly overcrowded and underfunded. Recently, Inti Wara Yassi’s Parque Machia location lost space to a new highway-construction project nearby, which limited its available land for wildlife.

Parque Ambue Ari has the opposite problem. The 800-hectare sanctuary is so large that it’s difficult to patrol. It’s also at risk for forest fires, due to local farmers regularly setting fire to their tinder-dry farmland during the dry season. The fires pose a serious risk to the park and are increasing in size because of climate change.

Furthermore, a recent court case in Santa Cruz highlights the ambivalence held by the authorities towards wildlife trafficking. Two Chinese traffickers were apprehended whilst trying to sell the body parts of 60 jaguars on the black market, but the case didn’t go to trial – the judge skipped out to take a university course instead.

But there are some positive developments too: The number of wild animals kept as pets has decreased lately, the result of an educational programme – although a lack of accurate statistics makes the picture of the whole situation very murky. And therein lies another daunting problem: When it comes to animals being seized for the global black market, underfunding and lack of resources means we will likely never know the true extent of the damage until it is too late.