I cannot imagine being the last of your kind. I came across this article today about a Brazilian man that is the last of his native tribe. His tribe has remained “un-contacted” by civilization. People were first made aware of him about fifteen years ago. Indians are “protected” so the government has set up a 31 square mile protective zone around this man. There have been attempts to make peaceful contact with him that have lead to an arrow in the chest, so he is left alone. His village was probably destroyed by land hungry settlers in 1996.
Today it’s hard to imagine this man’s life. While the rest of us are tied to our jobs, homes and lifestyles this man is only tied to survival. He doesn’t have anyone or any real possessions. His contact with other humans has been negative for a variety of potential reasons. We don’t really know what happened to his people. Were they destroyed by the loggers that came in to clear the forest? There is an issue of trust.
Today we all know kids that have no idea how to entertain themselves if they don’t have an Ipod, video game or TV. Can you imagine just having nature in your life? The only man made device you have might be your bow and arrows or other weapons or tools. It’s hard for most of us to even imagine this is possible but some places in this world must still be fairly remote to access.
In the United States of America we have what has always been called a “melting pot” of cultures. We have people that have chosen to move here from all over the world. With them they bring their cultures but alas many of these cultures are lost when people try to become “Americanized”. I know in my own family much of our Czechoslovakian culture has been lost except for some food recipes. When my mother was young it was frowned upon to teach the old native language as people wanted and were expected to learn English. When people spoke in a ‘foreign” language it was to their detriment. We all know that certain groups of people were highly abused when they came to this country. It wasn’t just Africans put into slavery that have been abused but also Catholics, Polish, Irish, so many ethnic groups, too many to really mention. The point of what I am trying to get to is that as we assimilate into this “American” culture much of our past is lost. Obviously, the most abused in our culture were the natives. These people and much of their culture was destroyed by the continual movement to the west and the land grab that came with it.
With this man in Brazil who defies all attempts to be contacted and as far as we know “studied”, it is amazing that he endures just as people endured probably for centuries. As cell towers and electric grids are built around him he defies all logic and remains in his ancestral past clinging to only what he has always known, nature and his own way of life.
I have commented here on my living alone and not feeling lonely but I have the ability to seek out people when I want to be around people. I wonder how someone goes through days and nights without another living person around them. Does this man have a pet? My life revolves around my pets. I wonder how he entertains himself. Has he made up games? Years ago I used to watch “Survivor” and always thought it was interesting but it was so much like playing house in terms of real survival. As the years went on with that show the promoters realized they had to provide more food. The early survivors came back pretty skinny. This guy is a real survivor but not just physically but in spirit. They say there are signs that he may believe in some kind of spiritual life. Maybe that keeps him going. Maybe he expects to meet his family again.
We all remember the saying “No man is an island.” We have always been taught that we need each other and that we are a part of something bigger than ourselves.
This is a quotation from John Donne (1572-1631). It appears in Devotions upon emergent occasions and seuerall steps in my sicknes – Meditation XVII, 1624:
“All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated…As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness….No man is an island, entire of itself…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
I feel that this man in Brazil is living like an island but in many ways he is a part of each of our own lost ancestor’s lives. This man who lives only for his own survival is not unlike the rest of us. He is “us” in our most primal form. His goal is survival. Ours in many ways are the same. He is a part of our past as much as we have lost our own lost cultures. If he were ever captured he would just be an anthropological case study. His life probably scares all of us that can’t imagine what we are going to do if we lose our jobs, our homes or some other thing that we need let alone our lifestyle. How would we survive those losses? It is obvious that the strong will survive. They always have. That bell will toll for him some day but it will be for all of us as no man is really an island.
Katie,
This article ties in with a thought thread that has been winding through my brain; I hope it is pertinent and that I don’t stray too far. My thread started with some data estimating when man first tamed fire 400,000 to 800,000 years ago – which led to larger groups of people able to live together. This makes 20,000 to 40,000 GENERATIONS of families sitting around fires at night, which boggles my mind. Most of these were before any written records and we have no record of anything about them, but they managed to develop language and eventually to write, tame creatures, develop agriculture, forge metals, so at least some of them must have been very creative and intelligent. What a loss. When I read a greek play, the feelings and actions of the characters is nearly identical to how we are today. What wisdom or insights were lost with all those generations that weren’t recorded?
The other day I was stuck by my sister’s screensaver. It randomly shows photos from her iPhoto account – which includes all the old family slides I scanned a while back. What struck me was a photo of my father when he was about 20. I immediately missed him, thought of my memories of him when I was my son’s age, and felt sad my son would not be able to know him as I did. My grandparents had lots of pictures, but somehow I missed out on stories that accompanied them, perhaps for them the photos were the story and didn’t think that I would someday be handing them to my son who wouldn’t be able to distinguish who was in the photo from anybody in any black and white photo. Now we are able to associate stories movies and photos of people like never before. If I do this for my family, will it give future generations a sense of place? Or will it be a burden, the past piling so high they are unable to progress to be their own person. For I am constantly confronted with what the Buddhist call impermanence. Or in the lyrics to a Rush song “changes aren’t permanent, but change is”. There is now, there is today, the moments I share with others, but tomorrow they will be memories. I know what I treasure, but what about my son, or his offspring?
How does that relate to your article? I imagine his struggles are not unlike what we all struggle with. The last of his people certainly makes the impermanence more poignant, but in a sense we are all the last of our kind. Some of us are lucky enough to have children that may carry some portion of us in their hearts for a generation or two, after that there is no direct connection and any memory is created. I can’t imagine what he is thinking, mourning, but I applaud his effort.
I was talking to my sister and she said we are lucky if we will be remembered after one generation. I was kind of shocked by what she said. This conversation took place after our family reunion. A lot of the young people like my son didn’t attend it. I was lamenting this. The reunion was for my father’s family. My parents are both gone. My son remembers my mom and dad but if Josh has children they might not know much about my parents. I only have one child so maybe I will be really forgotten. When my sister told me this I decided I needed to start making my pottery again. Someone will pick up a pot some day a hundred years from now and wonder about the person that made it. I used to do about 30 shows a year. I know there are a lot of pots out there that might tell some of my story! I think we are all connected in some way.