So i was going to use this post to write to you, in almost meticulous detail about the wonders of staying in the amazon jungle for four days. It was going to contain highlights of hearing and seeing the warm rain approach on an isolated pond in the depths of the virgin rainforest; the moment when Victor emerged from the forest with a sloth in hand as if it were a teddy bear while it made noises like darth vadar (who`d have known?) and tried to `attack` us in slow motion; laughing in the dark whilst swinging in hammocks lit only by one small parafin light and surrounded by the noise of the jungle joking with Edgar our Peruvian guide about cultural differences; catching piranhas on said lake and eating them for dinner; of monkeys that liked Xss so much that one ran up to him, climbed up his body and rubbed his face against his forehead whilst embracing his head. However this has all been userped by the last cultural experience we encountered this morning, the Yaguas tribe.
It was awkward enough when they got all three of us visitors up to dance some tribal dances. We knew this might happen and had throught about asking not to come, but when in Rome- dance tribally. So there we were clomping about in regulation welly boots, trousers and shirts concentrating on not stamping on the poor near naked Indians who were trying to lead us around. Luckily the dance seemed to centre around going very fast around in a circle so not too much foot crushing occured. In fact nothing else happened but this Indian girl pulling me around very fast in a circle like we were doing the maypole. I was tempted to stop and explain to her that when she is on the inside (always) then i must go further and since she was going so fast this was very hard in my clumpy boots to deal with. I wasnt sure whether to smile at the bizareness that i found myself in, in the middle of the Amazon rainforest or scowl as would be my normal response.
The two following `dances`created an even more painful situation as none of the Indians seemed to want to do these ridiculously simple repetative movements and only two senior men sang, the rest by all means appeared to empathise with all primary school children who hate acting and are coxed into the play to be chorus with the words, ìt`ll be fun!`. On arriving at the villiage i asked Edgar how many people lived there, none was his reply in an embarresed way that meant i could ask no questions. These Indians come over here for the day to entertain the tourists and sell their handy craft. Thats not so bad is it?
Well, the time came to buy the handycrafts (this was after a very brief blowgun tutorial which turned out to be very easy). We were plauged. Whilst looking at one persons stuff 7 others are shoving other things at you telling you to buy them. They were in competition with each other and each selling all the same crap which we never even wanted. Having decided just to buy anything and try to spread the money out, guess what no-one has change so we will have to spend the whole of our S10 note with only one person. Now to work out which one owned which malnourished and parasite infected children.
So we were visiting dirt poor indians, who looked ill, couldnt survive without dancing some weird dance to oggling tourists and then going in for the hard sell with soveniers. This was a bad situation, but do you prefer that the lodge doesn`t send you here so they get nothing? Well, after having spent all of our money (we didnt have much) we legged it. Our guide was terrbily uncomfortable with this `cultural expereince´but bares it as it was his job, but was only too happy to leave when we were. We waited for the boat to pick us up down a little track from the village. As we were now very early, uncomfortableness forcing us to leave, after ten minutes it was decided that we should walk back to the lodge (about 45 mins). We promptly returned to the path, and whom should we see, our nearly naked Indians..... wearing t-shirts and shorts. Not only was it obvious that they got naked for the tourists, the little boy who was about 6 knew that he was `in the wrong` and stopped stock still behind a tiny thin sugarcane stalk, as if we might not see him. His father followed him, and looked also as awkward with the whole scenario.
It was terrible. I felt so bad for the `Indians`, and wished i wasnt in that situation but what was the alternative? They have no money and that is their only income, accordinjg to Edgar it is not possible to live only off of the forest, they need a little money to buy somethings. So all the way back to the lodge we spoke with him about other alternatives, a cooperative for one. As GCSE english taught me, Mans in humanity to man, is shocking. What i find worse still is the Indians inhumanity to each other, but then again i have never been that poor.
Shouldnt the ones who dance and sing loudest get more money, than those who shuffled at the back? Shouldnt those with kids in need get more? But as no-one had any change, one Indian became significantly richer whilst the rest got nothing. Why can`t they all put their products in together and share the profits equally? I guess im grasping at straws at i cant beare to think that i am partly responsible for making people get naked and dance to feed their children. And there wasnt even any beer or salted peanuts involved.
P.S i´ve mever been in a strip club so am not actually sure the accurate type of peanuts they have. Perhaps they have pork scratchings instead?
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