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Part One (I), June 2004
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Xavante[1]
By Alann De Vuyst alias Wéré'è (many persons in one)
The Foreword and the main article are composed and enriched with the most accurate way by Emmanouel Laleos, Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society
Foreword My correspondence with Wéré’è began somewhere in the middle of May 2004, after his first contact with me through ‘The Great Web of Percy Harrison Fawcett’. Since the 6th of June, Wéré’è kept me informed, by e-mail, about his entire extraordinary story concerning his emotional, and amazing adventures with the Xavante nation, also of his blood pact relationship with the Chief of that nation in 1989. Wéré’è started the narration of his story, which has been interrupted by me several times, in order to make some clarifications.
Today, Wéré'è is one of our many connections that we have in South America. He has given us important information about the Brazilian Xavante nation, a bellicose indigenous people, who inhabit the cerrado near the riverbanks of the Rio das Mortes (River of the Dead), the Rio Kuluene and the dry cerrado forest of Mato Grosso in Brazil. Permits, from Indian bureau of Indians affairs, called FUNAI, are needed to visit their territory, and are hard to get, if not impossible. A filming party led by Rolf Blomberg, the first non-Brazilian expedition ever to go there, traveled over 12,000 miles to make a documentary about the daily life of “primitive tribes”, which also included the Xavante. They recorded their dances and realistic war games, as well as many recordings of the colorful and little known parts of this vast country, such as the exotic fauna and flora of its immense jungles, and of the everlasting yet unsolved mystery concerning the fate of Colonel Fawcett.
Different reports and rumors had it that both the colonel and the Xavante may have met at one point. According to one of these reports, Colonel Fawcett wanted to visit the Xavante nation during his last ill-fated expedition in 1925. He had asked the Kalapàlo Indians to help him reach their (Xavante) territory, and to give him guides and porters. The Kalapàlo Indian leader, Izarari, refused to do it, as he claimed that his people were not on friendly terms with the Xavante.
Colonel Fawcett persisted, and pressed Izarari repeatedly to let him have the men he asked for. Izarari, probably had Fawcett and his son killed, in order to get rid of the white stranger. Raleigh Rimell, the third member of Fawcett’s expedition, was already dead, after being gravely ill with a malignant infection of the leg, caused by the bot-fly larvae, and he had most likely died of blood poisoning.
According to many contemporary explorers and writers, that was and is still believed to be, what happened to Fawcett’s ill-fated expedition of 1925, even if the truth, as we have uncovered it from the results of our five years research, is quite different. Emmanouil Lalaios
“Dear
Emmanouil,
I am a Flemish Belgian artist who, at the time of writing, is living in Flanders, continuing my book about my stay with the Xavante nation of Mato Grosso. However, I am not often in Belgium anymore, as I live a life of a world nomad. The last 20 years I have lived in SE Asia, India, Nepal, and Brazil. In Thailand I got in touch with the Karen refugees near the Myanmar border, and 2 years ago I celebrated the Hmong New year with the Hmong nation. I also visited the Kamu and the Lahui in Laos. However, my story here, concerns my adoption through a blood pact with a Xavante chief in 1989.
It was in the reservation of Parabubure, in one of the villages, that I saw a Xavante boy with brown hair, which was very unusual, as they all have jet black hair, like most Indians. Most probably, he was the product of a possible mix of Xavante blood with Brazilian blood.
E-
What
was the age of the boy and when was that visit of yours in the
reservation?
W- It
was in 1991, in October I think. He must have been around 6 or 7 years
old, very shy and afraid of me. I have never seen any kid like that
with the Xavante. I am not sure, - it is too long ago, - but I believe
even his eyes weren’t pitch black like his folks.
E-
Do
you have a photo of him?
W- I
have no pictures whatsoever of that boy, but maybe I can trace him, as
he was a child of an ‘Alemão’ (Portuguese for German).
Due to my inhibition, and
fear that the crying boy would get more upset, I didn’t take a
picture of him. The
‘father’ said to me smilingly, that he
was his uncle, and he laughed with him as he cried. Many
boys hid from me, as I was white, and blue eyed. I
was alone and had no interpreter, so what could I ask them? I
believe he lived in the village of Aldeona, which is part of the
reserve Kuluene, which again is a sub-reserve of the Parabubure
reservation. The latter is about 330.000 hectares.
The Parabubure Xavante reservation
The
reason why I am mentioning the Xavante is because I have stayed with
them, and perhaps they could be the missing link to Colonel Fawcett. When
you mentioned him on your website, it occurred to me that I had a book
in my collection which talks about him too.
The
Dutch author, Marcel Roos, who wrote this book, about his expedition
into Mato Grosso, to the Serra Do Roncador in 1949.” which is called
‘Het Geheim van de Roos’ (The Secret of the Rose), claimed that it
was going to unravel the mystery of the disappearance of Colonel Percy
Harrison Fawcett.
En
route, he got in touch with the Xavante, whom he tried to interview
about the mysterious primitive rock paintings in the area of Roncador.
The Xavante told him to leave.
The Dutchman Marcel Roos and Colonel Fawcett The
document 512 Translated by Alann De Vuyst
“...As
if they (rupestral art signs) were forming a sentence. With increasing
awe I find a certain resemblance with the image scriptures from the
document “512”.
Does
the “lost city” of 1753 exist after all?
I can imagine, how the young Percy Fawcett must have felt, for
when I was in the jungle of Ceylon, I found similar indecipherable
writings on a rock. How he must have felt the urge awakening in him to
disclose their secrets and how, whilst reading the tale of the
Portuguese Bandeira of 1743, he thought he had found the right tracks
that would lead him to Mato Grosso, where he disappeared in 1925,
proceeding into the direction of Roncador…
Did he really hope to find, on this highland, the secret
“Z”, the Ancient City, inhabited by the descendants of Atlantis,
who are being kept in isolation by savage Indian tribes?
Did
he include the Xavante with the latter?
The questions overwhelm me while observing the signs, which
contain a message, left behind by the unknown culture of the people
that roamed this region, in the gray antiquity of time. It is out of
the question that the Xavante would have applied the drawings on these
walls. Even a monkey wouldn’t manage to clamber up the ten-meter
high, smooth granite wall, above which they appear. Similarly,
reaching them from above, alongside the steep protruding flank of the
highlands, is impossible too!
Why
would the Xavante make the effort to draw signs, which for them have
no meaning at all? I
would like to investigate this area much more deeply. But alas I
don’t get the chance.
Dr. Hoge just came to tell me that the Indians (the Xavante
with whom he just recently met) are getting impatient and want to
leave. Thus, the inspector has decided to break up the camp and go
back. Dr. Hoge has little interest in the inscriptions, and for
anything that has nothing to do with snakes (he is a biologist). Nilo,
who accompanies him, quickly takes a few shots for the archives of the
S. P. I. (service ao Proteçao do Indio), but is too busy with the
Xavante who are a more gratifying subject for his camera. I too have
to limit myself to a few photographs, and a few meters of film, as
proof of a remarkable find. Maybe later it will be the subject of a
debate by antiquity experts, who usually are very sceptical about
these kinds of inscriptions, in particular if they have been
discovered by a layman like me.
Back
at the camp, I try to find out more about the Indians and the rock
paintings. Except for the confirmation, that they exist in other
places of Roncador too, there is nothing more I can get out of them.
This is due to the limited knowledge of Xavante vocabulary, and the
lack of imagination of the interpreters, but also very often because
of the deviating answers from the Xavante. It seems they want to avoid
kindling our interest for something, which may incite us to stay
longer on their hunting grounds and penetrate these even farther. When
José, the cook, shows his golden teeth to a few Xavante and asks them
if they know the yellow glitter of this metal, they answer positively.
As soon as we try to find out where they have seen it, though, they
divert us with a vague referral to a river “somewhere in the
North…” They have never heard of a lost city.
In the end they get tired of our questions and abruptly stop
the conversation with a “Mo Tô!” (Go away, go!). This seems to be
the signal for the others too, who have been walking around nervously
and make us understand that it is time to finish the interview. Their
repeated “mo tô” sounds like an order and a threat! The inspector
has the animals rounded up, whereby the Xavante get really excited,
when they hear the tingling of a bell that hangs around the mules’
neck… “
The meeting and the ceremony
On
my question concerning his story with the Xavante and when and why they
had adopted him, Wéré’è referred
to this event with the following description:
“I stumbled upon two Xavante chiefs, (Caciques), in a small
pension called
Rio Verde,
in the popular area of capital Cuiaba
in
1989, in the month of July. We talked for hours; me asking them whether
I could stay in their village to learn about their culture. Somewhere in
my young life I had always believed that I had been an Indian in another
life. Here in Belgium I had
worked as a volunteer with non-profit organizations to accompany Native
American and Canadian delegations in Brussels, in their quest for
justice and human rights, and who were traveling to Geneva.
That’s how I met Floyd Red Crow Westerman, and some people of
the Nuchalk nation from the Bella Coola reservation in British Columbia,
to name but a few.
However,
back to my two chiefs; and during my stay in their village of Santa
Cruz, the chief named Josué, mentioned many a time that we had the same
blood and only the color of our skin was different. In the end, one
evening, I was taken by surprise and summoned to the village center
where we had a blood brother ceremony. He was 39 and I a mere 30.
Josué
had an uncle, an old chief, named Arão who lived in the village of
Corrego da Mata, about 8 km away. The
old man had come all the way on foot to meet me, in Santa Cruz and to
witness the blood pact that was bound to happen there.
We drank each other’s blood"
Wéré’è and the Xavante chief Josué during the blood brother ceremony
He
handed me a yellow-feathered headdress, which he had made for me. He
said that, not so long ago he had had a vision of a white man, who would
come to make peace with the Xavante. He
thought that I was the one. He
had tears in his eyes and hugged me, as he told me this, while my blood
brother simultaneously translated for me.
Ever since, my name has been Wéré’è
(Many Persons in One).
Two
months later I had to leave the reservation, because another village called
Aldeona, of the opposite faction/clan to where I was staying, spread the
rumor that I was a sorcerer, and that I was there to kill the Xavante and to
dig for gold! It was the doing
of a young sorcerer of 26 years old, who wanted to have me killed. In
short, I had become a kind of political refugee, who could not move out of
the hut where I was staying, and where there were posted, four warriors, who
guarded me during three nights. Because
my life was in danger, I was helped to leave the reservation, to only return
in 1991 upon my blood brothers’ request.
On my return, I helped to create two permanent water channels from
two different springs in two Xavante villages, respectively Santa
Cruz, where I had stayed in 1989
and Corrego
da Mata.
During 1990 I’d been
collecting money for this project in Europe, mainly Belgium. It
wasn’t an easy task, because I had had no experience in this field; after
all, I wasn’t an NGO man, a technician or an engineer, but an artist
painter
The
Xavante village of Santa Cruz located in the southern part of Rio
Kuluene
E-
How
far is the village of your blood brother from the nearest white town?
I
asked Wéré’è.
W- The
nearest town of Campinápolis
must
be about a two hours bus or car ride from the reservation, and the Xavante
village is the nearest one to the western border. The river Couto Magelhães
flows through the Xavante village, São Pedro, which lies north of the
reservation. I knew the cacique
(chief) of that village in 1991. From
Cuiaba
to Campinápolis
is about a 2 day and one night journey. There is a shortcut, which reduces
the journey to Kuluene to half the time, leaving from the Salesian run São
Marcos reservation. But, as I
had had a spot of trouble with some of the Salesians, I stayed away from
them.
Corrego da Mata, a village I visited with my blood brother and where with the Salesian missionaries I had installed a long tube over 4 km channeling water from a well to the village, I did the same for Santa Cruz.
From
Campinápolis
to Nova Xavantina it takes about 5 hours, and another 6 hours over unmade
roads, and broken, eroded bridges. Journeys
by road are unwise during the rainy season. Indians are classified as
minors, and are dealt with through state intelligence. Never
tell the police you want to stay with this or that tribe, because you will
get arrested and be deported, unless you are an anthropologist, and even
then it takes up to 5 years before you can get your permit.
Most
of the time, I was dependent on the Xavante’s truck, and good will, to get
back to Santa Cruz. Had it not
been for the caciques, who
expressed their
will to invite me, then surely
FUNAI would have said ‘no’ to me.
The legend of the Enchanted Lake
W-
Near the Xavante village, in the Kuluene reservation, lies a very
mysterious lake. I remember it
to be steel blue in color, and in which the Xavante dare to swim, but are
afraid to dive in, for fear of being sucked in at the bottom by the evil
spirits. The Xavante people believe that bad spirits dwell in lakes, and
good spirits in running water, such as in rivers.
E-
Do
you know, the name of the Lake the
Xavante
were afraid to swim in (because of their belief that it is a demonic one)?
I
asked Wéré’è,
W-
I
believe the lake is called ‘a lagoa
encantada’ (the enchanted lake). They named it that, because there is
no life in that water. One of the cacique has seen a UFO hovering over the
lake on 2 occasions. I
thought the lake had the color of grey/blue, just like hard steel.
The “enchanted lake”, a tiny lake near the village of São Pedro
E-
Do
you know the lake’s coordinates?
W- I
have no coordinates, as the maps of the indigenous area are considered state
intelligence. There were rumors that maybe there could have been tunnels
connected to it. It is situated on the east side of the Parabubure, Xavante
reservation. The Parabubure area only shows a tiny lake, near a
Xavante village, right on the eastern border of the reservation. It bears no
name whatsoever. I don’t think it could have been that one, as I cannot
recall any village nearby, that time, but then one forgets after so many
years.
There
are the people known as the snake eaters, who go by the name of Nambiquara
Indians, who also live in Mato Grosso, and who have been part of the Ungha
Mongulala nation, mentioned in the Chronicle of Akakor. The map of Mato
Grosso shows all reservations, but near Parabubure or along the border,
there is no lake is shown. I
cannot recall if any lake was situated on it, but it might.
Detailed maps do exist, with all reservations mentioned marked on
them, – they used to be sold by CEDI, an NGO in Sao Paulo.
E-
I do know that Fawcett examined very closely the customs and the language of
some tribes, including the Nambiquara Indians,
I reported to Wéré’è
In
Fawcett’s writings 1920-1924 there are numerous notes on particular
Indian tribes. He studied the language of tribes he intended to visit as
well as their customs and etiquette. The tribes he studied in detail are;
Mundurucu, Apiaka, Kayabì, Bororo and Nambiquara. All these nations
inhabited areas North-West and West of Cuiaba.
Fawcett never ever mentioned, or ever collected information about the
Nafhaqua, the Kalapàlo, the Xavante or the Suià (all to the Northeast) and
he had never been to Mato Grosso.
W-
The Nambiquara were mentioned in the book the Chronicle of Akakor
itself, as the snake eating people. You
mentioned that Fawcett never got in touch with the Xavante; he might have,
because they too secure a portal and have seven keys to it.
Some Indians, of the Xingu
reservation, believe
he drowned in the Rio das Mortes. They will not allow anyone to go near the
area of the Serra do Roncador. There are many sacred areas that the Xavante
protect, to which no white man is allowed to go, unless a Xavante
accompanies him, and they refuse to do this anymore, just as they refuse to
dive in the lake.
Other
readings on Fawcett, tell me that he was a very arrogant man, and that he
really misbehaved with the Kalapàlo, who helped him and guided him. He
even left his son behind at one point, and went off alone. Some believe the
Kalapàlo must have taken revenge on him at night. Though a finger also
points at the Kuikuro...
The Serra do Roncador
W-
The Serra do Roncador is known to host several mystic organizations. I met a
widow of a Swede, (second generation), who founded a kind of druid sect in
that area.
E-
Regarding
the Serra do Roncador and your connections there, I
asked Wéré’è again.
What else did the Swedish widow find, or see there, besides the airfield of
beings from outer space?
-
The
people there are very interested in occult powers, and that’s why they
talk so much about the spiritualist Alan Kardek. There are lots of new age
and esoteric groups there. Her
husband, I once saw a picture of him at her home, wore a kind of Ku Klux
Klan outfit, only the hood was like a chopped off KKK hood. She told me they
had had gatherings in the Serra do Roncador. Her
husband had bought a piece of land there, which is now her property, because
he did not want the area to become developed and spoiled. There were ideas
and plans to build an airport as well – the second in the world, (the
other is in Japan), - for aliens from outer space. That’s how much Mato
Grosso is just full of whispers, spiritualists, religious sects and occult
forces.
E-
What
was the name of the Swede’s widow?
W-
I
am sorry that I cannot remember her surname. But I know the people she
worked for, in an indigenous handicraft shop in Barra do Garças,
called Berô
Can.
She might still be working for
them; she was still there when I last saw her in 1995. I painted three huge
murals on their shop facades, representing the three Indian nations of the
region. This year someone sent me an e-mail telling me that a few years ago
it was deleted by a new tenant.
Jerônimo
Xavante
E-
Have
you ever been near the area of the airstrip which serves the aliens of outer
space?
E- Unfortunately
not! According to the State’s pilots, they have never witnessed any UFO
activity. Which I find strange really, when so many ordinary people, even
the utmost skeptics, have seen something, and started to believe in what
they have seen. Some have
visited a psychologist, or were at the point of doing so.
The
airport has never been built in Barra do Garças, but the idea is still
there.
The
table mount of Jerônimo is, according to many people who have visited it,
in the national park Chapada dos Guimarães, an airstrip for (UFO). Lots
of people from the region have experienced magnetic or electric fields, and
have seen white circles, or almost transparent creatures, emerging from
those white lights.
There
is a kind of corridor, which
extends some distance, both above and below the 15 degrees parallel,
(South), and, according to my sources, this corridor stretches from the
federal district Brasilia, to Peru and Bolivia,.
The
National Park Chapada dos Guimarães
which I
visited, is huge!!! You need a
4X4 to get around it. I have
seen the ‘Veu da Noiva’, the Jacaré, and from a distance the plateau of
‘Jerônimo’. I also passed by the ‘O Dedo de Deus’, (the finger of
god), but that’s on the road from Cuiaba to Barra do Garças.
The national park Chapada dos Guimarães
E-
What
is your personal opinion concerning these airfields of UFOs?
W-
Listen
Emmanouel, I do believe in the realm of Akakor, and I think it isn’t just
a whim of the national government to have an airstrip built, no matter how
ludicrous this may sound to Mr. Average. The
area is notorious for lots of mystics and sects. It may be that the sect, to
which that widow’s husband belonged, was known as ‘O Monasteiro do
Roncador’ (the Monastery of Roncador). There
is a whole area of magnetism and energy in Mato Grosso.
That sect, or group, possessed many secret rituals, and they believed that
in the region of the Serra do Roncador, at the foot of an outcrop named ‘O
Dedo de Deus’ (the finger of God), a portal (door), materializes
when
an alignment of stars takes place. They have 200 or more followers.
They
say that when the portal is open, one can hear voices and music, and one can
see people walking about, as if in a city. There are said to be other
portals in Manaus, Foz d’ Iguaçu in
the State of Paraná, and
at the Serra do Roncador.
I
met a German, who didn’t want his picture taken, known as ‘o Alemão’,
who could have been a man with a Nazi past. For
years there had been another German, who was killing tourists in that part
of the Amazon region; the federal police were still looking for him in 1995.
He had a girlfriend who was a
nurse.
The
same year, in Sao Paulo, I
met with a surgeon, who was treating Yanomami Indians with shot wounds.
He told me about a German he had met in Manaus. The German had asked
him to send a few tourists to him in Manaus. I
also had a conversation with Vicente Rios, (I hope I have his name correct),
who made a documentary of the “Destruction of the Amazon Forest During 10
years,” for the BBC. He had
filmed, and had spoken with the parents of a boy who had been kidnapped by
the Ureu-Wau-Wau
Indians.
Fabio, a small blond boy of
seven, who was never seen again.
Director
John Boorman based his film, ‘Emerald Forest’ on this story, and met up
with Vicente. When the
Ureu-Wau-Wau had been pacified, they were asked to show the boy’s grave,
but there were no bones in it. So
no one knows what happened to him. Some
believe he is still alive, and can give a plausible reason. They
say that possibly the Indians wanted to learn Portuguese from him, so that
they could understand the ways of the Brazilians.
During
my correspondence with Wéré’è, he
noticed that I did not respond to the name of Marcel Roos, so in his next
mail to me he said:
W-
You didn’t react to the Dutch author’s name Marcel Roos and his
story. Is it that maybe you don't
think it's important?
E-
When
you visit the Xavante in June, as you said for the completion of your book,
how long do you intend to stay there?
I
asked Wéré’è …
W-
Well,
this is a very delicate matter, Wéré’è
said;
I have not been back there since 1991.
If my blood brother is no longer their chief, I cannot guarantee that
I will be allowed in. He
was not the big boss of the reservation, but a certain Abrão was. There
were conflicts between the Protestant and Catholic factions, lots of
intrigues played out by missionaries there, such as at the Summer Institute
of Linguistics. Rumors had it that they were there with the financial
support of the CIA. They have
their own air balloons and airstrips, though they have been expelled from
Venezuela, because it was thought that they were trying to set up some
tribes against the socialist government.
Wéré’è
with Narciso
on his left, who in 1991 claimed that he wanted to succeed Josué
,but
when he met him in Goiania, capital of Goiàs State in the Casa do Indio
(House of the Indian, a FUNAI place where they get [medical] aid), he still
wasn’t one. The second
on his left is his younger brother. The photo was taken during
a dance in their village of Santa
Cruz,
a
friendship and welcome dance that functions at the same time to dispel
sickness and bad spirits.
W-
As a foreign anthropologist, one needs a Brazilian godfather
anthropologist to get in. He must introduce the foreigner to FUNAI. As
maltreatment and human rights abuses against indigenous people, have been
rampant in Brazil, the State intelligence is not too keen on foreigners
poking their noses into their indigenous policy. The Xavante followed my
every move, as did the missionaries’ too, it was all done surreptitiously.
When I was there, in the
reservation of Parabubure, I met the missionaries of S. I. L. (the Summer
Institute of Linguistics). I
think they were very secretive and tended not to trust other foreigners
coming into the reservation, afraid of what they may find out about the
mission they were running. At
times they had a small airplane - now I am not a plane expert, but I think
it could have been a Cessna, or a Dakota, - that came there every two or
three months to pick up their people, and they seemed to have lots of money.
Unless some gold mining
activity had been set up, and garimpeiros (gold panners), fly in like they
did in Federal State of Roraima
on the Yanomami land in 1991, there isn’t much of an explanation left for
them to justify the planes continuously going in and out of indigenous
territory like that. There has also been a Korean sect, preaching their
brand of protestant religion.
At
times I got really depressed, because of the atrocities committed against
Indians. It was daily news in the papers. It ranged from rape, to torture
and murder, you name it. It seemed to me like plain calculated genocide,
motivated by greed, ignorance and racism. Just to give you an example from
the headlines in yesterday’s newspaper:
“The Cintas Largas, (in Rondônia State), in defense of their territory,
took up arms against gold-panners and shot 22 of them.”
Angelo seen in the profile with a palm leaf in his hands participating in sacred ceremony
If
I cannot meet with my blood brother Josué, I hope to meet relatives of his,
which will be no problem, somehow I will find somewhere to stay. Since
November last year, I have been in touch, by e-mail, with a young 29 year
old chief called Hiparido. He
has had death threats, and is in hiding in São Paulo. He
is one of the new breed of leaders. I
could start the research with him there, but he has a very busy agenda.
However he lost his interest, as soon as I tried to get in touch with
my villagers through him. He
was from the Salesian missionary reservation São Marcos. He is sick and
tired of the Salesians being there, and is rekindling Xavante tradition in
the youths.
There
is still FUNAI, (the Brazilian agency for the protection of Indians), that
could refuse, because in ‘95, I heard through Medecins sans Frontières,
that all development programs and medical aid, had to pass through a
selection board.
Of
course I can wait for some of Josuè’s relatives to show up in the city of
Campinápolis
or
Nova Xavantina, and with their help, I might get in again. However,
no one, as you may know, can stay with a tribe without bringing loads of
presents! I experienced it a number of times when dealing with the Bororo
and the Karajà too.
Visiting
Indian villages is getting more complicated because of third parties, with
whom you have to deal to get into the reservation, whether they are the
Salesian missionaries (*) or with FUNAI. I had to work with the former, for
my water project, and we aren’t best of friends anymore, after I had a
conflict with one of their laymen on how to deal with Indians. Water
is very important in Xavante culture, that’s why their villages are
constructed in the shape of a horse shoe, with the opening always directed
toward the river.
The Xavante Indians dance in the village of Santa Cruz having among them Wéré’è dancing in a circle. In the photo, the fifth on the right (as the photo is seen) stands Wéré’è, his brother-in-law Narciso, flanked at the right by cacique Josué, his blood brother.
E-
Why
do you worry about this? As long as you can find a way to get the proper
presents and deliver them?
W-
The
presents, which can be a box of soap, ammunition or rifles, dozens of
blankets, shorts, clothes for the women and gasoline or a truck, are a big
issue for the Xavante. They know they get presents, because that’s what
they received from the first contacts. The problems are all down to jealousy
and envy from other villages, where they have seen me organizing the water
project for Santa Cruz and Corrego da Mata, and though the jealous ones had
no shortages of water, they insisted that they should have a water channel
too in their village. That’s
why I think it will be hard for me; it has nothing to do with them disliking
me, but all about keeping the balance right, between factions and villages.
These feuds have been passed on from generation to generation, and I got
caught up in it, because I belonged to a faction after my blood brother
pact. Also, I suppose, giving a T-shirt or a blanket to one is not that
much, but to a village of 100 people, it becomes more of a challenge. In
Barra do Garças and Nova Xavantina, I was constantly harassed to pay for
their food in restaurants, and other things too.
(*)
The Salesians are members of the Society of Saint Francis of Sales, a
Roman Catholic congregation founded in Turin in 1845 and dedicated
chiefly to education and missionary work.
Bororo
Indian
By Alann de Vuyst
Interview
with Wéré’è about the Morçegos
There
is a tribe in the Serra do Roncador called the bat people
(A
tribo dos Morçegos)
E-
Now,
I
would like to know any information you might have gotten or heard during
your stay in the reservation concerning the existence of the Morcegos and
their approximate location of their territory.
W-The
Xavante are a people who might well have been taken for the Morcegos.
This could be because that region is vast, and just after their
pacification, the Xavante scared the hell out of the settlers. The
Xavante killed any white man, or Suyà, or Kalapàlo Indian coming near
them. They hated the white man, especially the ones who had beards, and that
is why nowadays, most FUNAI officials are clean-shaven. They hate the
bearded ones most, because the whites (Salesians, Bandeirantes) who they had
they fought, and had been killed by some of them. There are so, many stories
and rumors which have a life of their own. There is a saying that Xavante
used to wear ape skins and scare people with them. Maybe that’s why people
talked about a Morçego tribe, because that tribe has never been found
either. However,
they can be found in the Serra do Roncador. They
guard the entrance to the caves and the subterranean cities. They are black
skinned people, small, and with a more developed “sniffing” sense than
hunting dogs.
This is what an American explorer, Carl Huni, wrote in a letter.
“The entrances of the caves are guarded by the Morçegos
Indians, dark-skinned people with great strength. Even if they let you in
the caves, I am afraid you will get lost from the outside world, because
they protect and guard the secret very carefully and they will not allow
those who get in to get out again. The Morçegos Indians live in caves and
come out at night to the nearest forest, but they have no contact with the
people who live below, in a subterranean city who live in self-sufficient
community with a big number of people. They believe that those who inhabited
Atlantis built the subterranean cities. Japanese monks who came to bring
homage to Mr. Armando Luvison, and his wife “Vestal” are the only true
protectors; guards of the Serra do Roncador.”
Wéré’è
also answered some of my questions below such as:
E-
What
did the Xavante know about the Morçegos?
W-
They
don’t like to talk about it.
E-
Did
the Xavante have any relation with the Morçegos in the past?
W-
I
don’t know for sure
E-
Did
they have any contact with them?
W- I need to talk to the elderly. I have no clue, but I presume they might have.
The Xavante Legacy by Wéré’è Dear
readers,
Before you continue to read my journal in the next chapter I think it
is necessary, to get a bit of background information about who these people
really are. In these
times of political correctness, I insist on calling the indigenous peoples
nations, as they are. I find the word tribe very offensive, as it is a term
which denigrates them as a whole. History
has been written by the conquerors in this country, who in this case were
the Portuguese. We have no idea how many Native Peoples there were, as we
have to rely on estimates only. These
numbers are usually very sensitive to political manipulation, to serve a
particular agenda of minimizing the genocide that has been carried out for
centuries, from the Amazon rainforest, to the dry Chaco region, and the lush
forests of Southern Brazil. As a matter of fact, sitting here in Rio de
Janeiro’s Bibliotéca
Nacional (the national library),
it is odd to read that in the 20th century literature, they still refer to
them as ´tribes’, whereas in the documents written in the 17th and 18th
century they refer to the Xavante and others as ´nations´; ‘a tribe’
is a 19th century word, used to minimize the importance of those
conquered and vanquished.
Presumably the Xavante lived in an area now known as the State of Goiàs,
where their numbers, between the 17th and 18 century, have been reduced to a
mere 1000, or a few hundred, by the ferocious Bandeirantes
campaigns. Bandeirantes were big posses, composed of young teenagers and men
from Sao Paulo State, who illegally went in search for Indian slaves. They
are glorified as heroes in Brazil, as the pioneers of the wild frontier.
I found out in the library
that the Xavante
were originally an estimated 8000 people. They were captured, enslaved and
put into artificial villages called aldeiamentos,
set up by the army and the governor, which resulted in their number swiftly
reduced to a mere 1000 by the end of the 19 century. In those villages they
were put together with nations such as the Karajà, the Kayapò and many
others. Villages were ruled by what they called capitães’
(appointed
chiefs by the Portuguese crown),
who had to obey the administrator and the governor, who in turn had to
comply with the king Dom Pedro´s III orders.
At one point the Xavante had had enough of the betrayal, slavery and
abuse, and they killed all of the capitães
and fled to the forests. Attack after attack on whites ensued, the Xavante
vowing never to trust or meet whites again. They have memorized the
brutality of the Bandeirantes,
and passed on the information of their past from generation to generation.
According to the anthropologists, that’s when the remaining 1000 or so
Xavante split up into
two groups.
One group later emerging as the
Xerente,
who
have similar customs and language.
Just like the Xavante, the Xerente belong to the linguistic family of
the Gê trunk (like the Krahô and Bakairí). The
Gê peoples are semi-nomadic gatherers and hunters, who share the ritual of
Úiwede - a palm log race. The debate about the Xavante’s land is still
hot, even among the Xavante themselves, of whom many point out that they
once lived near the sea.
Anthropologists claim that they used to live in an area known today
as the federal state of Goiàs, which in 16th century must have
been a capitânia (a sort of land rented out to a fidalgo
[1][2]
a nobleman).
The King of Portugal, João III had problems populating and
controlling the new colony (Brazil); very little they had hoped for was
found, such as gold and other riches. Coastal incursions by the French and
English pirates was drawing his attention, but most of his army was
stationed in India, so he applied the same system of ´capitãnias as they
did in Africa. Some fidalgos were
good at administering it, others were useless usurpers. A fidalgo
could do anything he pleased within that territory, such as keeping (Indian)
slaves and organize plantations, etc.
The Xavante ran into unknown territory of the Karajá and created
new enemies such as the fiery Kayapó who they had to fight too.
It
seemed they never ran into trouble with the Tapirapé, who live north of the
Karajá territory.
Subsequently
they
crossed the São Francisco river in Goiàs, the river which runs all the way
through the state of Minas Gerais, where they remained for a short period.
Then they crossed the Rio Cristalino into what is now the State of Tocantins
and finally arrived in Mato Grosso. There, they settled down at the right
bank of the Rio das Mortes, where they were safe until 1941. Around that
time, they ran into an expedition led by a general named Pimentel Barbosa,
who made the first attempts to pacify them. The general didn’t survive
that expedition as he was massacred as were all his troops.
Along came Francisco (Chico) Mereiles, who met the Xavante three
times. It was with his fourth attempt in 1947 or 1949 when he at last
succeeded. Although, credit must be given to a Xavante chief by the name of
Apewen, who decided that they should make peace with the Brazilians. This cacique
(chief) told his men not to kill the whites anymore. Two years later,
farmers, army and agro-pecuarian companies that deal with agricultural
development, stole their land from them.
Much
praise and respect befell Mario Juruna, their most famous leader, the first
and foremost famous Indian of Brazil, who made it as a first indigenous
senator in the Congress. He became famous for his candid tape-recorded
interviews with corrupt politicians.
He died in 2003 of diabetes.
A young Mario Juruna when he was senator. My new 'relatives' from Santa Cruz
On
my first visit I made quite a few pictures. Below you will find a few of my
‘relatives’ and examples of what sort of rituals the Xavante still
practice today:
I
shared a hut with Tamara and André, a young couple of evangelical pastors
of the Missao Evangelica school, who were constantly praying and teaching
Xavante children in precarious accommodation. I fell out with André,
because he was constantly bugging me whenever I was eschewing anything non -
Christian. One
time he scolded me for wearing a pair of swimming trunks in the village. According
to Evangelical ethics, it was obscene, and after all I wasn’t at some
beach in Rio de Janeiro, he told me.
Angelo
and Modesto were my nearest friends from the village of Santa Cruz.
Modesto is wearing a necklace, a lower jawbone of an ocelot (*) that
was shot by my uncle Tomé, on the plantation, where he nearly got killed by
it. The necklace of the ocelot was made for me upon my request by my
neighbor and uncle Tomé, who was then already in his sixties, and had moved
away from the village in 1990 or ’91, because of the conflicts between the
Protestant and Catholic feuds in Santa Cruz. I
never saw him again. He was
very gentle and kind to me, and always ready to help me out. He
once came and massaged my head when I was suffering sunstroke. It
was Tomé´s son who shot the ocelot. They
skinned it to sell the fur in the city. The
carcass was left to rot. I, who had been going hungry on dry rice, wanted to
fry the meat, only to puke it out because of an allergy attack - I am
allergic to cats. But I had
also broken a big taboo. Josuè came to ground me for that.
He said that their ancestors had never eaten that beast and never
would. The kids had also wanted
to eat it, secretly behind my hut, because they were going hungry too. A
jaguar is seen as a great shaman by many indigenous peoples in the Americas.
Modesto became a young pastor after going to a Missão Evangelica missionary school in Campo Grande, the capital of Mato Grosso do Sul. He was only seventeen when I met him
Modesto
pulling an arrow aiming his target
(*)
Ocelot is a nocturnal wildcat (Felis pardalis or Leopardus
pardalis) of the brush and forests of the Central and South America,
having a grayish or yellow coat with black spots.
Oy’ó
We,
in the West, have adolescents and children. But the Xavante have at least
five or six different categories of divisions in youth. It
is so complex! They club each
other with a club made of a root. They start before dawn. Brief
fights occur, as soon as one cries the opponent ‘wins’. Though winning
is a western concept. It is
just a way of seeing who will survive in this habitat of drought and heat.
Their villages are built 800 meters above sea level, so it can be cold at
night. The
Xavante have a reputation of fiery warriors, and they are very bellicose,
see below a picture of a ritual how they train six year olds in enduring
blows, to become valiant and resilient.
The boy on the right in black dye is Wilmar, Josué’s son, who won all of the combats at that time
There
is Angelo, my
neighbor,
in the village of Santa Cruz, in 1989, whose baby boy’s life
I saved in 1991, with just one injection of penicillin. The boy was
suffering from pneumonia. The
Salesian sister had told me how to do it, because she had no time to do
it herself, as she was with the Salesian engineers, ready to move on to
Corrego da Mata for the second water project. He
is married to Donata, and they have one more boy, with a cataract in the
eye. Angelo is the brother of Modesto, who became an evangelical pastor
at the age of 19, I think. Below
on the left you can
see Angelo in
a very sacred ceremony in which I participated in 1989. It
is called Wai´a and is about getting in touch with the Xavante Gods.
It’s about good forces fighting the bad and it also initiates new
young warriors.
Journal's slideshow (Better viewed with screen resolution 1280 by 1024 pixels)
Note: This journal does not have a PDF file
Part
Two The
7 keys with the entrance to the hidden cities and the Morçegos, the
legend of the bat people!
Click
below to access the continuation of the trip
The
trip of the 8th of June 2004 continues with more amazing facts…
All
photos in this article are courtesy of Wéré'è
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