The journey into the jungle was quiet. The view was incredible as we slowly drifted over the rain forest. The jungle looked so primal, so strong, I felt as though the moment we landed we would surely be swallowed up. Mr. Silveira helped to guide us to a large clearing near the settlement of the Yanomami tribe that Lord Harrison had stayed with and studied. It was a short hike to the large round shabono hut where they all lived. The large oval structure was built around the perimeter of the settlement, and all of the people resided inside. It was a bustling place, with many men, women, and children working and playing in the large courtyard. Some of the men were in the forest, cutting trees and bringing in fresh meat and fish. The children hung about the women as they cooked and did chores. There were a few women among the trees as well, gardening and gathering bananas and other food.
Mr. Silveira introduced us to the village patriarch, but would not give his name as this is considered the height of indiscretion in front of the person. Having already been acquainted with Lord Harrison, he was exceedingly kind and welcoming. In fact, Lord Harrison's former assistant, a Mr. Charles Wayling, was still present and living with the tribe!
We learned that the people in the village were all the patriarch's relatives; his brothers and sisters, their spouses, his several wives, and their children. With the help of Mr. Wayling, Mr. Silveira, and Dr. Smythe we were able to converse with some of them, and get to know their lifestyle. It's absolutely fascinating to watch people who live so simply. Their roles are set, obvious, and unquestioned. There is no crisis of identity here, and no true poverty as all is shared and everyone contributes. No one is shiftless or lazy. True, they have more susceptibility to certain diseases, but their faith is strong, and their beliefs seem enough to carry them through. They also have an amazing knowledge of medicinal plants.
In the evening we sat down to an abundant meal of bananas, plantains, corn, and mangos, as well as a peccary and a deer. Everything was delicious. There were a couple of dishes that seemed questionable, but not wanting to insult our hosts I tried some of everything, and tried not to think about it too much. Everyone had a lovely time, and even Dr. Smythe seemed strangely relaxed, and even teased me about a dish that looked suspiciously like roasted grubs. After the meal, the shaman told stories of his people and their spiritual beliefs. He then inhaled the smoke from a strange plant called yakoana to commune with the spirits, or xapiripe. We then retired to the patriarch's hearth and slept on hammocks.
This morning we had some time after all the excitement had died down to talk to the patriarch about our next step in our journey to find the Kalumi. We showed him the scalp map, and he laughed and said he should have known what it was. He called over the shaman and Mr. Wayling, who examined it as well. We discussed the symbols, and the shaman revealed that the Yanomami were descended from the Kalumi, but had left the great city long ago.
"Great city?" I exclaimed, "Don't tell me they have some kind of metropolis buried in the forest!" The shaman wasn't sure what I meant, but he thought a moment and described an ancient tale of the ancestors, of people who lived inside of mountains, who built great mounds, and of giant birds they worshiped and sometimes rode. According to legend, there was a great war, and famine, and plague, and strife, and a great shifting of earth, and many people fled to the jungle where they lived in smaller communities and became the Yanomami. With the help of Mr. Wayling, the shaman said, "the story is a cautionary tale. The ancient people left the city to live simply because in the city no one had enough. Not enough to eat and drink, not enough power, not enough treasure. We sometimes war between tribes and between each other, but we no longer feel this great emptiness inside us. We have what we need. We make what we need. We are fulfilled. The great city was cursed. We have learned that living with the forest is better." It took me a moment to take all of this in. Were the Kalumi all gone? Had they died out? Had they been transformed into the Yanomami over time? If I could find this "great city," would all I find be ruins?
"There is a structure," said Mr. Wayling thoughtfully, "a short distance to the West. It's made of stone, and mostly hidden by jungle so that it looks like a small hill, but there is a doorway that is obviously carved by man. You may find some more clues there. There are some carvings on the outside that are similar to the symbols on the map. The tribesmen won't go there, they say the place is cursed."
"Would you guide us there?" I asked.
Mr. Wayling hesitated, looking to the patriarch and the shaman. He seemed to be deciding something. "I can. We will leave early tomorrow, with the hunters." I thanked him, then went to join the women at their chores. After all, I was enjoying their hospitality, it was only right that I help out where I could. There aren't many things an anthropologist can do in a tribal camp, but with Dr. Smythe helping me translate I was able to get by, and I think some of the women were at best appreciative, at worst amused.
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