The heart of the jungle became my heart

by Bruno Carneiro (Brazil)

A leap into the unknown Brazil

“How is it supposed that being isolated in a damp, mosquito-ridden jungle, with great odds of facing a dangerous wild animal makes someone feel relaxed?” Asked my mom in a worried tone over the phone after I told her that I had decided to take a trip to explore the Amazon. After a year away from home pursuing a master’s degree in Spain, I was longing to return to Brazil and rest for days before leaping into my next journey. Weeks before my departure, some friends commented on their desire to travel to Brazil and visit the famous Amazon Rainforest. This intrigued me and made me reflect on the strange fact that the largest tropical forest in the world is actually neglected by Brazilians as a tourist destination. After lingering that though for days, I found myself stepping in Brazilian soil, but far from the warm sandy beaches of my hometown Fortaleza. I was in Manaus, the capital of the state of Amazonas, in the heart of the forest. The one-week package included two days in Manaus and five days in a local indigenous community, the Tukano-Dessana tribe. To my surprise, in Manaus I came across a typical Brazilian capital. High buildings and a peculiar urban center. The native community within the forest, however, would prove to be everything I needed and much more than I expected. Access to the tribe was by boat only. We were a group of eight tourists, coming from the most different parts of the world desiring to unveil the mysteries of the unknown Amazon Forest. During the course of two and a half hours, I had the opportunity to contemplate the greatness of nature in its finest form. An immense river of dark waters reflecting sunbeams that dispersed in a myriad of colors. Treading the path, dense woodland composed of majestic species of tropical trees and flowers I had never seen before. Birds flying over, the humid breeze rushing through my cheeks and the distant sound of nature in a symphony. As we finally disembark on the banks of Rio Negro, we were received by the Pajé (leader of the community) under the Taba Grande, a large central hut made of thick wood and palm leaves. All the tribe was waiting for us. They had friendly expressions and the little ones looked at us with curiosity. Wearing garments made of fabrics embroidered with straw, seeds, and feathers, they were ready to celebrate! They performed a traditional Tukana-Dessana dance and fed us with typical dishes. At nightfall, sleeping in straw hammocks was an easy task. The fatigue was a great ally. Days would begin at dawn, and as they passed, participating in the daily activities of the tribe brought us closer. Thanks to that, I became friends with Raoni, who once during a fishery taught me something precious. He said: “Finding peace in an environment is not simply about being present in it, you need to embrace it and belong to it”. After some time, I realized that being isolated was not exactly what I needed. In fact, coexisting with the community and the wildlife was what made me feel relaxed and balanced. Diversity is a big lesson in the forest, and now I see that I really needed this learning. Living in perfect harmony with all species. Seeing the perfect relation of all those creatures, millions of species living in a harmonious and interdependent way, made me reflect a lot on the human race's potential to better understand, to co-create and to relate in a much more prosperous manner. The day of departure arrived. Aboard, on the way back to Manaus, I got to, once again, contemplate the beauty of wildlife. A sense of belonging filled me. Belonging to my cultural and historical roots. Belonging to my home country. A group of endemic pink dolphins followed us in the distance, gliding gracefully over the dark waters in this farewell. That, for me, served as a validation for the transformation I had just undergone. At that very moment, I felt I was part of the jungle and the jungle was part of me. It was as if our hearts were beating at a single pace.