The Guarani
The Guarini tribe is an indigenous tribe that inhabits a section of the Iguazu National park, in North East Argentina. It is possible to visit them via an organised excursion or, as we did, get the local bus that heads towards to the falls for 25 pesos in the middle of the highway and then walk into the reserve and pay a tribe member 150 pesos for a short guided visit through the Atlantic forest jungle.
10 years of the smartphone
What struck me on arrival in Puerto Iguazu, the once small sleepy town on the Argentine Brazil Paraguay tri-frontier was just how developed this town has become since being here in 2007. I remember crossing over the Brazil Argentine border, passport in hand, and being greeted with a typewriter. It almost seems like I'm making it up now. But it happened. Now, things are very different. Smartphones are everywhere, omnipresent TVs blare out telenovelas and the news of the G20 leaders in Buenos Aires: the feast the leaders have is broadcast in every scrutinized detail possible on the main TV channel. Gastronomical delights and fresh unmarked tomatoes (remember the comments on patchy ones) are presented on TV) that I haven't seen since arriving in any supermarket, giant blackberries the size of fingers, slabs of beef are sliced up at lightning pace - and it's clear who won't be going hungry in South America. Those blackberries will cost more than just 10 pesos. What a bounty of food.
The Guarani tribe, however, probably aren't doing what you are thinking. They wear Western clothes. They have converted to tourism. The Spanish girl I came with to the jungle is fantastic - she asks a million questions.
What is the traditional food?
What is the traditional dress?
Do you live here?
What happens when women give birth?
How often do you hunt?
Do the children go to school?
The answers might or might not to be what you expect.
The answers are the same as yours would be. Except the question do you live here? That answer is yes.
The traditional food is not hunting. A glance on a satellite photo shows just how much the expanse of this jungle area has shrunk. The green area is limited only to the National park. Development has impinged right up to the boundary. The line of the national park is not demarcated by an invisible line - it is a dark green patch clear to even the poorest cartographer. Our guide tells us that things have changed, now it is difficult to hunt and he hasn't seen a Jaguar in years.
As a child he explains he wore less clothes but now the appearence of the tribe is Western. I ask about the festivals, he says they wear the clothes they wear now. It is clear that some traditions are being worn out. Could us tourists be to blame? I walk in with my camera and snap at him as he jumps up on a vine and climbs 8m above the ground. I give it a go - hmmm the monkey bars were never my strong point in the playground.
And the other questions.
The children go to school, mams give birth at hospital. One thing though; they conserve their traditional language.
Our time is nearly up. Our smiling guide shows us the traps they use for hunting. They are intricate and ingenious.
We are whisked to the handicrafts fair - a table under a tent and he grabs a dart, blows through it and an arrow with feathers on the end fires into a tree with a whoosh sound. Just like documentaries. He laughs. I decide that I probably won't get that through UK customs and opt for a little toy whistle. Perhaps, I can use it in a Geography class at some point?
And what are my final thoughts? That, perhaps if more area had been designated a National Park, the Guarani would have more area and they'd now be able to hunt like they used to. As well growing their own food, they use the money they gain in tourism to buy some food. But they can now go to hospital. This is Globalisation. For good and for bad. Can both really coexist in harmony?
10 years of the smartphone
What struck me on arrival in Puerto Iguazu, the once small sleepy town on the Argentine Brazil Paraguay tri-frontier was just how developed this town has become since being here in 2007. I remember crossing over the Brazil Argentine border, passport in hand, and being greeted with a typewriter. It almost seems like I'm making it up now. But it happened. Now, things are very different. Smartphones are everywhere, omnipresent TVs blare out telenovelas and the news of the G20 leaders in Buenos Aires: the feast the leaders have is broadcast in every scrutinized detail possible on the main TV channel. Gastronomical delights and fresh unmarked tomatoes (remember the comments on patchy ones) are presented on TV) that I haven't seen since arriving in any supermarket, giant blackberries the size of fingers, slabs of beef are sliced up at lightning pace - and it's clear who won't be going hungry in South America. Those blackberries will cost more than just 10 pesos. What a bounty of food.
The Guarani tribe, however, probably aren't doing what you are thinking. They wear Western clothes. They have converted to tourism. The Spanish girl I came with to the jungle is fantastic - she asks a million questions.
What is the traditional food?
What is the traditional dress?
Do you live here?
What happens when women give birth?
How often do you hunt?
Do the children go to school?
The answers might or might not to be what you expect.
The answers are the same as yours would be. Except the question do you live here? That answer is yes.
The traditional food is not hunting. A glance on a satellite photo shows just how much the expanse of this jungle area has shrunk. The green area is limited only to the National park. Development has impinged right up to the boundary. The line of the national park is not demarcated by an invisible line - it is a dark green patch clear to even the poorest cartographer. Our guide tells us that things have changed, now it is difficult to hunt and he hasn't seen a Jaguar in years.
As a child he explains he wore less clothes but now the appearence of the tribe is Western. I ask about the festivals, he says they wear the clothes they wear now. It is clear that some traditions are being worn out. Could us tourists be to blame? I walk in with my camera and snap at him as he jumps up on a vine and climbs 8m above the ground. I give it a go - hmmm the monkey bars were never my strong point in the playground.
And the other questions.
The children go to school, mams give birth at hospital. One thing though; they conserve their traditional language.
Our time is nearly up. Our smiling guide shows us the traps they use for hunting. They are intricate and ingenious.
We are whisked to the handicrafts fair - a table under a tent and he grabs a dart, blows through it and an arrow with feathers on the end fires into a tree with a whoosh sound. Just like documentaries. He laughs. I decide that I probably won't get that through UK customs and opt for a little toy whistle. Perhaps, I can use it in a Geography class at some point?
And what are my final thoughts? That, perhaps if more area had been designated a National Park, the Guarani would have more area and they'd now be able to hunt like they used to. As well growing their own food, they use the money they gain in tourism to buy some food. But they can now go to hospital. This is Globalisation. For good and for bad. Can both really coexist in harmony?
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