The Amazon Delta - Belem Part 1

We were sitting on the left side of the plane on its approach to Belem. Out the window we could see only uninterrupted jungle, laced with meandering waterways. From our vantage there was no sign of habitation, only the endless, green canopy. When the right wing dipped we could peek out the right side windows and see the city, Stretched along the wide, sweeping river it looked like a metropolis, high rises and all the machinery of a busy port.

We were warned by the pilot before deplaning. It was 40 degrees centigrade outside. (over 100 Fahrenheit) As we walked out the door the heat rolled over us. Belem is just below the equator and the air was damp and heavy.

There was a wonderful welcoming party at the airport, including Peggy Hegbar who had flown in from Ohio to share in this part of our adventures. Maria had arrived from Rio a couple of days before, she would be teaching the weekend workshop of "Tara and the Tarot" with us. Leila, a budding Tara Dance teacher from Porto Alegre had popped up to be with us along with Jorge who would be the interpreter. Trishana had accompanied us from Abadiânia and the airport filled with giggles, exclamations and loud kisses.

We were dropped off at our hotel, The Equatorial. The room had been donated by one of the workshop attendees (owner of the hotel) and we had a chance to shower and relax a bit before the evening program.

We were taken to a building that was once a prison but is now a gem museum. The courtyard was adorned with enormous crystal formations, arranged around the old rock walls. Inside several air-conditioned rooms was displayed Amazonian plunder ~ emeralds, gold and other mineral wonders.

At the center of the building was a cavernous room, the walls lined with native canoes. Beautifully displayed native crafts lined a large amphitheater. This was where we were to introduce our work.

Araceli, the local organizer had done a wonderful job of advertising and we had an enthusiastic group of dancers and an equally large, enthusiastic group of audience. It was chaos management big time, the acoustics were hopeless, but we accomplished a few dances and Maria encouraged those who had signed up for the workshop to select a card from her Tarot deck to determine the dances/Taras we would focus on that weekend.

The next day we drove through the sleeping city to a military complex. Diogo, one of Araceli's students, deeply involved in the Tara practice had a grandfather who was a Brigadier General in the Brazilian Air Force. Courtesy had been extended and we found ourselves Dancing for Peace in a beautiful open air room overlooking the pool and recreation arena. We had more than 30 adorable folks join us, several very young women.

As the morning progressed we were streaming sweat. The pool began to fill with revelers, someone turned up a boom box and we decided to break for lunch. We were offered another lovely room for the afternoon, enclosed, air-conditioned and we accepted with gratitude.

Lunch was a magnificent feast of exotic tastes. As we drove back through the gate, the young sentry saluted us. Very cute.

The work was exciting. Maria had asked Anahata to illustrate the energy of the Arcana/Taras with Dances of Universal Peace, a wonderful creative project for all of us.

I laid out a handful of sale items, Cds and Tams mostly, and my helpers were swamped with interest.

The afternoon unfolded beautifully until we noticed a rock and roll band moving into the pavilion next door. An hour before the workshop was to end they cranked up making it impossible for us to hear. We brought things to an abrupt close, making prayers that our next day of practice would be more peaceful.

Evening found us down by the river ~~the great Amazon Delta. Para is one of the Amazonian states, the name means "Place of the Waters". Hundreds of islands, a maze of water-ways and the towering jungle lay before us. We took a boat ride up and down the river, The lights on the city side illustrated the blend of several hundreds of years of settlement by the Portuguese. The steeples of beautiful old churches stood proud next to glass and steel high rises. All were sparkling in the clear night air.

We were entertained by a small band accompanying a beautiful young pair of dancers who demonstrated the local folk dancing. Our group was happy to jump in when invited and shake a leg and other parts of the anatomy.

Belem is an interesting blend of cultures. There is the modern city with its bustling trade, receiving the country's vast wealth carried down the river and sending it off into the Atlantic ocean to ports all over the world. The Amazon Delta produces the worlds second largest crop of soybeans, and large freighters could be seen nestled up to the docks. There are huge faciendas tucked back on some of the islands where herds of buffalo are raised by genteel "cowboys". Like everywhere we have been in Brazil, the indigenous people, the black one time slaves and the European colonialists have been intermarrying for centuries and the music, dance and crafts express this lovely blend. There is an underlying throb of sensuality, woman wear their clothes tight and revealing, eyes flash and men look with open appreciation.

Back on land we enjoyed some plunder of our own, feasting on the 101 different flavors of local ice cream. We did not recognize a single flavor ~..Acai, ceu azul, graviola, maracuja, cupuasu~. and the clerks behind the display were happy to give us taste samples. We were to return to this spot many times.

Just down the way from the ice crème bar were some little kiosks displaying crafts. One was overflowing with adornments made of seeds and feathers, representing several of the indigenous tribes. We were shown a small tag on the items indicating that the sales of these items went directly to the tribes themselves and we made our own modest purchases in their support. We were also told that direct association with the tribals ebbs and flows, we would need permits to visit the tribal areas. But in the marketplace the whole wild blend was represented, people were friendly and we had some marvelous translators that helped us experience so many exotic stories and delights.

Sunday morning we drove back through the saluting sentry and were grateful that there was no rock and roll scheduled next door. The teachings went deep, the dancing was joyful, we all grew close. The day remained calm, the air-conditioning did it's best to keep us comfortable.

During lunch we were taken to a local craft market only open on Sunday. There were two artisans who specialized in local percussion instruments. Clackers and shakers and bangers and boppers, all made from pods and seeds, bits and bobs of balsa, we got at least one of everything. We could have spent all day exploring but we had to hasten back to complete the workshop.

Monday morning we visited Geraldo a man who specializes in essential oils made from Amazonian plants. He gathered us around a little table and dreamily began selecting bottles of this and that off the shelf behind him. He would pour some drops into our palms, tell us to rub our hands together and smell. We would barely digest one intense realm of sensation before he would be opening and pouring something else. At first we protested, wanting to savor each in its individuality, but this was not Geraldo's method. He was building a blend that was designed for each of us personally. He gave us all "treatments" rubbing his oils on the soles of our feet, having us walk about his little shop feeling the gift of the blend. He was an interesting blend himself, inheriting herbal lore through his family, exploring the Cabala and other esoteric ruminations. He was interested in our work and asked to be part of the unfolding Tara circle that is developing in Belem.

In the evening we met Araceli and many of her students at AuroLux, her healing center. Araceli works with various modalities of energy healing. The evening was given over to a circle of appreciation and we received many tokens of affection. When the ceremonies opened into a pot luck feast Maria whisked me away. There was an Ubanda circle of protection outside the city that she wanted to attend and there was a driver waiting to take us.

Ubanda is one of the local expressions of African-Brazilian spirituality. A "daughter of the gods" was in trance and the specialty of the young man spirit she was channeling was in unraveling complex issues and providing protection. We entered a private gated compound and walked through a garden. A plump young woman, dressed in wide skirted, flowing white, her head wrapped in a white turban/scarf was swinging a rope around her head and cracking it on the concrete floor of a covered patio. She had a cigar clamped between her teeth and she was swaggering around an open area. A small group of people were sitting around a picnic table off to one side and another small group was gathered in a cluster of chairs. Maria was dressed elegantly and we noticed an interested lift of his/her eyebrows as we took a seat. The friend who had invited us explained that the visiting spirit "liked the ladies".

He/she gestured to some one in the chairs and a woman walked up and stood as the rope was wrapped around her waist and lightly tucked into itself. With a strong exclamation the "daughter of the spirits" whisked the rope off and examined it as it fell onto the floor. There was a kink in the rope and one end looped over ~~,this indicated that the obstacle had not been sufficiently dealt with. She gestured for the woman being treated to sit down and then she did this little display with the rope, whipping it around her head, crashing it onto the floor with great strength, puffing away on her cigar. She called the woman back, wrapped the rope, whisked it away and ~.ta da~~ it fell open. Obstacle removed. There were general accolades amongst the spectators, some clapping and a bit of strutting as the woman took her seat. We watched several of these displays and then Maria was called. The "daughter" in white took her hand and kissed it and looked appreciatively into her eyes, winking and puffing on the cigar. The rope was placed, whisked and lay on the ground open. Another hand kiss, deep eye twinkles and Maria was directed back to her chair. I received the same flirtatious treatment.

A young woman was called from the other area of chairs and she seemed to be having a very hard time. The rope was wrapped repeatedly and each time it was whisked off it fell in a heap of twists and tangles. Our friend told us that she had a son in prison. The spirit directed the attendees to pray and everyone launched into a Portuguese Hail Mary. After a great deal of rope slapping and cigar puffing the rope lay open and a sense of relief and appreciation bubbled through the crowd.

Some of us were then escorted one at a time to stand within a magic diagram. Little piles of gunpowder were placed around the diagram and ritually lit by the "daughter". The brilliant flash and drifting smoke gave a powerful sense of completion to the ritual. Escorting me out and around the circle the spirit requested that I play a drum to accompany his departure. A drum was brought. I played the rhythm of the fanga and it was over. I recognized the "daughter" as Denice, one of the attendees of our retreat. Some gentle embraces and we were driven home through the soft tropical night.

You can see pictures accompanying this story at:
http://homepage.mac.com/prematara/Brazil*2004/PhotoAlbum27.html