by David Faxon
The whites of Chora’s eyes distended a split second before his body could react, caught in the moment between life and death. Too late to loose an arrow in defense, the spear entered his chest. He clenched it with both hands and knew at that moment he was dead. Teman-e was on him in an instant. He reached for Chora’s knife and slit his throat. His revenge complete, he sat breathless as his victim lay wheezing; bubbles of blood forming at his mouth.
The people were dazed. One minute they had relaxed, preparing to welcome Teman-e, the next, one of their warriors lay dead. But no one made a move. While surprised, they understood. What was done was done. The consequences were inevitable the moment Guardara made the welcoming gesture. In only seconds, the tide had shifted in Teman-e’s favor.
Connery stood with his mouth agape. In those seconds, he saw his friend’s other side. What primal reasoning prompted that kind of reaction? He realized then, in those first few moments when they met, how close he was to death. This was part of Indian character he found difficult to accept. How easily they could change if, in their minds, the situation warranted a violent solution. The Yanomami name for it is waiteri. A man cannot be diminished by the strength or insult of another man or else he himself will be diminished. He is compelled to take action, and for the moment, it gives satisfaction. Later, there would be time for guilt. For now, Connery was accepted, but would have to be careful to learn the traits of these people, to expect the unexpected and partake of their rituals if he wanted to remain alive.
Teman-e had returned too late to save Naru. Nevertheless, in the coming days, his honor would be fully restored. Along with it, his position of leadership. He would be held in high esteem because he had shown himself stronger than his enemy. This was good for Connery, who was safe if he didn’t make any wrong moves. Teman-e was deeply troubled by the part Guardara played in Naru's banishment. Why had they chosen to impose tribal law to such harsh extent? He had part of the answer but was eager to learn the whole story. He would confront Guardara when the time was right.
Teman-e and Connery walked the dusty road into the village, past dogs who were busy licking Chora's corpse.
She stood away from the crowd, almost hidden by the leaves of a banana tree, unsure of what happened or why the tribe was so frenzied. She was frightened. It could mean a number of things, and she didn’t like any of them. A raucous, collective shout arose. Her pulse raced. She froze, awaiting the next sign that would tell her either to flee because her life was in danger, or remain where she was and hope for the best. The loud shouting diminished, replaced by a low chatter that continued for a lengthy time. Then she heard laughter and that surprised her. The range of emotions, the frenzy, the chatter followed by laughter, reminded her of when Teman-e came home carrying a dead jaguar. She wouldn’t forget that day when the tribe acted similarly.
Before long, they were coming back to the village. Whatever crisis it was, had now passed. She watched, looking for clues that would explain the puzzling reactions. Guardara led the way as always. Who was that with him? Ochua to be sure; but the other two? One she thought was Teman-e, but his appearance had changed so much. The other she couldn’t take her eyes from. What was it about him? He was tall, had lighter skin. Maybe that was it. Then again, he was skinny, his ribs protruded, he had facial hair. None of these characteristics did she like. Yet there was something in his bearing, something distinct, undefinable. A man different from any she had seen in her lifetime, and she was attracted sensually. Her eyes followed him as he came up the trail leading to the village.
As Guardara’s niece, Wamura had attained the status of tribal royalty. She was off limits to any eligible male who may attempt to court her, unless, of course, Guardara gave his assent. This he refused to do, and no one seemed to understand why. He was her guardian since his brother was killed a few years before. She was taboo. Not to be touched by any male under pain of death.
But Wamura continued to ripen into an alluring woman, lithe, taller than most, perfectly set eyes, perfectly shaped breasts and hips; regal in her nakedness; an attraction to any man who had the temerity to gaze upon her for any great length of time. She was isolated in a kingdom of isolation, cut off in the flower of her womanhood, unable to be taken as a mate, to bear children. Yet her needs were the same as any of the other women in the tribe. Restless stirrings sometimes inhibited her. Many times she had pleaded with her uncle to relent, let her go, let her be like the others. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. He had remained adamant. She thought that would change when he cast his favor on Chora, a very likely candidate. Or so everyone thought. Her hopes were dashed when Guadara decided on the more mature Naru, wife of Teman-e who had been given up for dead. And so she remained; kept, a possession, a trophy for reasons she did not understand, but others began to suspect.
Wamura’s eyes stayed fixated on Connery as he neared the shabono. Clearly he was nervous, a man unsure of what might happen next. He stayed close to Teman-e who appeared to be his friend, while at the same time warding off the mongrels that snipped at his heels. Suddenly, he kicked one squarely in the nose, sending it yelping off into the woods and causing the others to back off. Maybe he wasn’t as nervous as she thought. She would seek to learn more about him.
That evening, the last trace of daylight lit the emergent trees that towered above the forest canopy. Some were majestic, as high as two hundred feet. Beneath them, but still at a great height, a thicker layer of vegetation prevented the dying sunlight from reaching the jungle floor. Each layer contributed its own distinct sounds from the animal species it supported, forming a cacophony of twilight chatter. For Wamura, this time always held special meaning. When she was small, her father would end the day by walking with her through the forest trails as they returned from the river. Almost always he would have a story about animals, but sometimes he would tell of his own adventures and the things he had seen on hunts deep into the forest. She loved Xingua. He was kind and frequently surprised her with gifts; a food treat, a small carving or an unusual flower for her hair. He had four sons, yet made her feel special, equal to them, and she responded with affection. It came as a great shock when rival tribesmen slew Xingua in an ambush. Wamura reacted by refusing to eat or speak for more than a month. Gradually, she emerged from her grief; a more mature girl about to enter womanhood. Her father's absence, though, left a large void in her soul.
Guardara showed exceptional interest in Wamura, when he became her guardian. He refused to pair her with the many suitors who desired her. It was as if he wanted her to be his wife someday. Since it was his brother's daughter, the relationship would be considered incestuous until he found convincing arguments to sway the tribe and not jeopardize his position. For this he needed time.
Strict tribal custom prevented any male from having sexual relations with a girl who had not “passed blood.” Once that happened, Guardara would be forced to match her with a husband. Wamura's time finally came when she turned fifteen. The rite of passage from puberty to womanhood would occur with the next full moon. After that, she would spend six months in isolation. Guardara was sure he could delay marriage for at least a year. By that time, with manipulation and a few lies, he would have his scheme worked out and take her as his own.
When the ceremony of puberty finally arrived, she and five others were taken to a sequestered hut where they would be prepared for passage. First her hair was cropped short, then all other bodily hair removed in a painful process that took hours. On the day before the ceremony, her entire body was covered in a black dye as she was transformed from a beautiful girl into a nightmarish creature. After that, her period of isolation began. Through a series of maneuvers by Guardara, she was nearing eighteen and still without a husband when Connery arrived in the village. She had freedom of movement, but the chief made it clear that no male would be allowed to take her until he decreed she was ready. But that time would never come.
CHAPTER THIRTY
What he witnessed that morning was disturbing. He
understood now what his companion of over two months was capable of. If it was true of Teman-e, it was true of the rest. They could turn in an instant, particularly with a stranger. He followed the tribe into the village. Nothing more than several straw covered huts encircling a larger hut in the center, its outside walls left uncovered. The large hut was big enough to hold the entire Machi-te population. Outside was an open area for gatherings and ceremonies. Banana trees and thick jungle growth enclosed the small village. Nestled among taller trees, it would be impossible to see from the air. Not that anyone had actually flown close enough to spot it. That part of the Amazon lay unhindered for ages; well beyond the first half of the nineteenth century, when civilization began to creep closer. Still, they went undiscovered.
Connery was the first white man to enter the village. It was unexpected. Intense curiosity followed. Bolder tribesmen came close, poked at him, tugged his beard. He remained unfazed, walked with confident strides, but was more uneasy than ever. What explains these people? It was as if nothing had happened. Moments before, they had witnessed a bloody event. Now they suddenly turned off all emotion and tension, putting on a festive mood. He would be allowed into their world for the time being, but he couldn't underestimate their reaction if he offended in any way. Complying with their mores, gaining their trust, was key to his survival.
They came to the shabono. Inside were several hammocks strung from supporting poles. Dogs barked, smoke wafted through the trees, hungry children cried as they clung to their naked mothers. Many looked at him suspiciously, while others tried to get close enough to touch his skin. All of the men carried bows or spears, and many of the male children held smaller versions. Nowhere did he see a modern tool or anything that hinted of the modern world. He stepped into a way of life as it was thousands of years in the past. Part of the world no one knew existed. Not Cro-Magnon, not Neanderthal certainly, but something primitive to its core. He placed his pack next to a pole, trying to appear relaxed, though his nervousness was apparent. He eased up a little when an old woman who noticed his condition, entered the shabono, bringing a small gourd filled with an elixir. Others brought papaya and plantain. One man appeared less than enthusiastic at his presence, but he wasn’t going to be outdone. He offered a small monkey on a hemp leash.
Guardara accepted Connery’s camera, but at the same time, felt threatened. He offered nothing about Naru’s banishment, nor did Teman-e ask. That night, hunters brought back several howler monkeys for the evening's celebration, dumping them on the ground for the women to prepare. The feast would be in honor of Teman-e's return. No mention was made of Chora, and Connery noticed that his body had been removed.
Several women stripped the hide from the monkeys and cut the meat into chunks. Every portion of the animals, except the hides, went into a large pot of boiling water. Heads, hands, tails, and organs would soon bob to the surface of thick gravy, stewing over the fire. Other women prepared manioc, a poisonous root, and food staple of the tribe. They peeled, grated, strained, and cooked it thoroughly to remove the poison. Some of it would become flour, what most of the world knew as tapioca. In addition to the meat and manioc, there would be yams from the garden, plantains and other fruits from the forest. A feast of this magnitude hadn't been held since Machi-te warriors killed three males from another village in retribution for a raid intended to steal crops.
“You are causing much talk among our people.”
Connery turned to see Teman-e approaching. He wore ceremonial adornment that contrasted with his nakedness. On his head were several feathers of various hues. His face was stained with ochre. Fastened to his ankles were short white feathers.
“I’m not used to seeing you this way. Why?”
“I have been restored to my place of honor. Tonight there will be celebrating.”
“But you killed a man only a short while ago.”
“You do not know our ways.”
“I am fearful of your ways.”
“Do as I advise and you will not have to be. I will see to it.”
Then he disappeared. Connery didn’t like the feeling when his only connection to the tribe was nowhere in sight. Someone thrust a bowl of fermented liquid in front of him, a beverage consumed by most of the tribesmen who smoked rolled leaves that produced a sickeningly sweet odor. He sipped the brew and found it somewhat similar to beer but far more pungent. Noticing that others watched, he continued drinking until the container was empty. As the men drank and smoked, they became louder. After drinking more of the liquid, they formed into a circle. Connery expected some show of strength, but was surprised when they began beating one another on the chest and head, violent blows that would knock an opponent to the ground. Some would remain there, beaten senseless. But those who got up, ready to receive more punishment, were cheered. Connery was reminded of gang initiation rites in his own country. Teman-e returned briefly and explained with a series of words and gestures what had transpired.
“These men show their strength and bravery. The women can see which warriors they would like to have for husbands, but the final decision wouldn't be theirs. They honor those who remain standing. I cannot explain waiteri. It is part of us. I would be with them but for my weakened condition.”
Connery was glad when the exhibition ended; one more piece of the puzzle he found difficult to understand yet could draw modern parallels to customs and traits of his own society. These people were so different, but in many ways the same, a human community in its most basic form. A contrast that intrigued him.
The bloodied men who participated in the sport, staggered into the shabono, tired but ready to enjoy the feast. Guardara heaped praise on those who exhibited the most endurance. There was laughter and joking about their manhood, and to Connery, some gestures appeared obscene. Eventually, they gathered around the large pot of monkey meat. It was time to eat, but Teman-e cautioned him. Certain portions were reserved for those of higher status.
“You will see others eat, but do not join in until you are offered the food.”
Guardara dipped his fingers into the pot, retrieved a black hand and passed it to Connery who was repulsed. But what was offered may be considered a delicacy, an honor, and he couldn't be seen to refuse. On the other hand, it could be a test. He picked up the hand and began to chew the sinewy meat. At another time, he would have met this with revulsion, but after what he had been through with Teman-e over the past several weeks, it was easier than he thought. He was relieved when the vegetables and manioc came.
Boisterous revelry lasted late into the evening until the drinking, smoking and eating eventually took their toll. Men, women, and children drifted back to the communal hut where Connery would stay. Teman-e showed him to a hammock. His stomach full, he relaxed and thought once again he didn't know what to make of these people; violent on one hand, but generous and sharing on the other. Nakedness seemed to hold no particular attraction to anyone, as it would in his society. Sex was the same way, a matter of course. It was just accepted, not a thing of shame. When you felt like it, you did it, usually in a hammock with your neighbor only a few feet away. But Teman-e was clear on rules regarding this.
“Never with the wife of another man unless she was offered to you. Never with a girl who has not completed tribal rites. Never with another of the same sex. Never with one selected by Guardara, for any reason. You do any of these and I cannot protect you.”
Connery drifted off among slow moving couples in various stages of love making. Before dawn, he awoke to children screaming and dogs barking. Surprisingly, he found the hammock comfortable. His bladder was bursting. He had to relieve himself, but wasn't sure where. There must be rules of hygiene. Teman-e greeted his friend, saw his problem and gestured him to follow.
They walked across the open space where the ceremonial gatherings took place, down a winding path, thirty, or forty feet off the trail, into the trees. There, he saw the communal latrine, an open pit used by both men and women. It might be uncomfortable, but at
least they had rules in place to avoid disease, and this was good. Teman-e took him to the river where cool water flowed, creating shallow pools. Men, women, and children gathered to wash. Connery hadn’t bathed for days and decided to join them. He removed the only piece of clothing he wore and waded into the pool. Several women giggled, as if making fun of the white stripe in the middle of his otherwise tanned body. Before he knew it, naked women, frolicking playfully in the water, surrounded him. Among them was one who caught his attention immediately. She stood apart from the others, seemingly reluctant to join the gaiety.
He never expected to find anyone quite so exotic, so lovely, in the middle of the Amazon. More exquisite and perfectly shaped than any woman he had ever seen. When he finished bathing, he returned to the village, unable to erase her from his mind. He wandered toward the communal hut where he met Teman-e who told him there was another ceremony planned for that night. He said no more, only that the chief and tribal elders considered it important. Connery asked about the woman who intrigued him, pointing as she walked by.
“She is Wamura, her father was Guardara's brother. You will not look upon her as you would the others. Listen to what I say. It could mean your life.”
The rest of the day passed slowly, mostly because of the eagerness and anticipation of what the evening might bring. Would something be demanded of him that he would find intolerable, repugnant? What would the reaction be if he failed to comply? Around noon, Wamura came to his part of the shabono. She found some special aloes in the forest and gave them to an elderly woman suffering from malaria. Connery couldn’t help his attraction to her willowy body and earthy good looks and wondered why she had no husband. He noticed that she glanced in his direction frequently. When she left, the day seemed to drag.