Following my trip to the “Amazonia” exhibit at the Museum of Anthropology of UBC, I began to reflect on my previous knowledge (and lack thereof) of the diverse nature and cultures of the indigenous populations that inhabit this territory. Growing up in Brazil, I remember being taught at school general bits of information on the rainforest; throughout the years, I’d always have a History or Science teacher mention it here and there, which led me to believe I had all the knowledge I needed on this rich part of our land. I even took pride in knowing I lived – although quite a few hundred miles away – in the same place that was home to many exotic creatures and cultural traditions, even if part of it, as I had learned many times, had already been exploited and destroyed.

After seeing so many artefacts lined up at the exhibit, however, and reading about their sources, it became very clear to me how little I actually knew about the culture being displayed there and the harsh reality of its territorial destruction. I had no idea, for instance, that many indigenous tribes use aspects of the natural world as inspiration when designing decorative objects and clothing items, or that feathers are largely used and added to headwear, or that many vases have patterns that are made to resemble those of a snake’s skin. I had heard of some tribes’ connection and respect for the natural world in the past, but seeing it being translated into their material productions and garments made me acquire a new sense of admiration for them – to see such commitment and effort being put into handmade items, to learn that every detail is made to resemble an idea bigger than what is seen is, in my opinion, simply fascinating. Their harmonious lifestyle and utter respect for nature is something that must be acknowledged, particularly by those of us who live so deeply controlled by Western ideals of materialism and wasteful consumerism, and learned from. One particular item that caught my attention at this exhibit was a traditional bandolier, said to have been used by the Ashaninka people, with the bodies of different species of birds attached to it. The beads from which this object was made, furthermore, were painted in a pattern of black and white colours, which immediately reminded me, once again, of patterns that could be found among snakes. I must admit that, at first, I naturally found the idea of hanging deceased birds on an object and wearing them on my body quite strange and hard to understand – as the ‘Bourdieuian’ concept of one’s habitus, recently learned in Sociology, would explain, an individual’s upbringing and social surroundings lead them to perceive the world and its occurrences through a particular lens;  I had never been truly exposed to any worldview other than my traditionally Western one – clothes and objects have always been, to me, nothing more than material items that serve a particular material purpose, not items that convey an idea or message. I was soon reminded, however, of the importance of this concept through the eyes of the people who wear it; how even when it comes to objects seemingly used in combat, the natural world can be viewed as something that brings strength and reflects power. This led me to not only gain new insight into a lifestyle I had not been introduced to, but also reflect on my own and my own purposes: why do I wear particular items? What should be conveyed through them? Why am I used to a life so detached from the natural world, whereas others perceive it as something of utmost importance?

Furthermore, I began to realize that, throughout the course of my education, I had never truly been taught anything other than practical facts about the destruction of the Amazon rainforest and the brutal colonization and exploitation of Indigenous people that had been taking place from the very first moment Portuguese and Spanish settlers set foot in South American lands. These are, of course, crucial bits of information that must always be considered and addressed, but I find that it is just as important for us to also take the time to learn about the culture and lives that inhabit these territories and have been targeted and exploited for so many decades. With understanding comes, beyond practical knowledge, empathy – which could certainly be of use if we wish to educate people in a bid to stop the destruction and violence against Indigenous people in the Amazonian territories.

Overall, the Amazon rainforest is, undoubtedly, one of the world’s greatest sources of biodiversity and one of the very few territories with so many preserved Indigenous tribes and traditions nowadays. This exhibit has done no less than reiterate how much culture can be observed and how many concepts of harmonious living can be learned from these groups, even in a tiny period of time and simply through preserved artefacts. Beyond that, it serves as a reminder to us that to remain idle while the rapid destruction of the Amazonia is carried out on a daily basis would be simply an act of dangerous compliance and awful ignorance – we risk losing, not only a vast area of rich land, but also an immeasurable amount of culture and the traditions embedded in the lives of those who reside in it. Like many others, I find myself guilty of not previously taking the time to learn about the history of this land and what is at risk with this continuous violence and destruction – and I hope that, with the growth of exhibits such as ‘Amazonia’, we will begin to take a step towards the much needed acknowledgement of the Amazonian land and tribes and, furthermore, towards action to protect them.