A deeper Amazon rainforest

by Eduardo Coelho (Brazil)

A leap into the unknown Brazil

Going to Brazil, it is easy to choose between São Paulo or Rio de Janeiro. Big, beautiful, imagetic. Some hipsters may go to the Northeast of the country, to the enchanting beachs of Fortaleza, Recife or Salvador. But only true adventurous folks will buy a ticket to North of Brazil, the region of the Amazon rainforest. Even these ones are probably going to Belém or Manaus, metropolises rounded by gargantual rivers and islands. But a deeper search will lead you to Juruti, the heart of the forest. Not too far east, not too far west. The middle of it. Getting there is the trip by itself. If you take a ship from Santarém, you will travel the whole night to arrive in the morning with the sunshine reflecting in the waters of the Amazonas river. Through it's curves, the "meandros", you will see smalls villages, big colonial constructions, most of them abandoned, small fish markets and even kids swimming like they are in their private pool, in the backyard of their "palafitas" - and they are, except for the fact that it is not a pool, but the biggest river of the world. In the ship, Dona Regina stares at the scenario like she's watching a movie, without a blink. "It's been 8 hours and we still have no sign of the other shore. How is it possible, right? This must be a ocean of another color. How can this be a river?", she says while admiring the nearly 7 thousand kilometers river. The arrival shows you exactly what a city by the river in the Amazonia ecossystem is: full of color, smiling people and poverty. The natural richness of the region never means the basic infraestructure for everyone to live, like sanitation and asphalt on the streets. The mining projects try to help with 1% or 2% of their profits invested in hospitals, schools and agriculture projects. Alcoa, the american company operating in the city since 2010, has done pretty much everything in their power to help the communities - and it's still not enough. Juruti is a large city. The locals are often announcing they found a new spot, a new island, a new beach or a new "igarapé". And so they warn everyone and they all grab their bikes to explore together the virgin nature, never touched by capitalism or government. Diving into the river means that you will probably eat a fish that swimmed around you (and there is always someone ready to catch and cook it). The water is mostly cold, but in a tropical country, that is the closest most people will get to an air conditioner. "The hard part is to get out of it and face the hot weather again. But we are used to it", tells Pedro, who is a dancer at the Muirapinima, the indian tribe of the local festival, the Festribal, happening every july. Festribal is the city biggest event: two different tribes competing against each other at a six-hour long presentation that includes music, performances, dancing, poetry and theather, with enormous items and giant structures, representing pride, heritage and resistence. Like a soccer derby, houses have the flags of both tribes (Munduruku and Muirapinima) and all the citizens breath the festival during the whole month. "I wish more people knew of it. Sometimes, I feel like I'm dancing to the same people everyear. And I love it. But to the rest of the country, is like we don't exist", says Pedro while remembering that Brazil only knows the hyped Parintins Festival, in a city nearby. "Here it is smaller and a little more humble, but we put our hearts in it". With so much natural unknown beauty, few tourists and rich culture, Juruti is part of a Amazon that provides money and resources to the world and most people don't even know where it is. It's beaches are hard to find, but someone will quickly notice you are lost and is going take you to a place so gorgeous that you probably won't remember taking a picture for your Instagram stories. And you might as well don't: the city is, alone, a story that will last more than a memory.