Impressions of Baramita

The jungle canopy spread out before me like an emerald sea. Millions of acres of jungle broken only by an occasional river or small piece of jungle cleared for a garden. And then we were upon it: a small clearing cradling a muddy airstrip. Shops and homes lined each side intermingled with jungle grasses and wild guava trees.

I’d arrived in the interior town of Baramita which can only be reached by air or a seven day trek through the jungle. Although the Baramita is located on an airstrip, the majority of its people live in outlying villages within a 3 to 5 mile radius. Interestingly the villages have no nucleus and each house is located 10 to 15 minutes apart on a web of trails that make it impossible to accurately determine where one village starts and another ends.

I soon learned that homes were extremely basic. Although those closest to the airstrip were actual buildings built on stilts, those in the jungle were often nothing more than a tarp on a stick frame, with hammocks strung underneath. A small cooking fire would be near by with a pot or two resting beside it. Any other belongings were tied under the tarp and onto the wooden frame.

Carib, a local dialect that’s indigenous to Brazil, Venezuela, and Guyana, was spoken by more than 50% of the people. Thus, making contact with the outside world difficult at best. These Amerindians are a shy people, with National Geographic-ish looks, who rarely meet your gaze. Communication is limited not only by the language barrier, but by cultural norms which dictate a reserve with the outside world.

The heat is sticky and intense so children often wear nothing but underwear or a skirt while at home. Children are not children long in the interior, however. I learned that it was not uncommon to hand out condoms to 12 year olds, treat 13 year olds for STD’s, and deliver the babies of 14 year olds. In an area where babies raise babies, family is important. Teenage mothers often live with their own parents and receive assistance in raising their children. Life is hard and most age prematurely or die leaving the youngest of their children to be raised by others.

Life is hard, but thats life. So with a string of batteries they power their jungle radios and listen to some music while they beat their cassava roots into bread and wait for the jungle breeze.