Stories and News No. 887
In Brazil the Munduruku indigenous people are protesting against the government, guilty of wanting to build 40 dams on the Tapajós River basin; the project cannot be justified even economically, according to a recent report by Greenpeace.
It seems that only the first one of the planned dams would flood 400 square kilometers of pristine rainforest, causing the deforestation of an area of 2,200 square kilometers.
The Munduruku are an ethnic group of just over eleven thousand, and seems to know only count up to five, defining generally people from outside as “them”.
Here I am, still.
Ready to resist, sure.
With my back on the ground, confident.
Because I am loved and defended by who I love you defend.
From them.
Indeed, I say it and I'm not ashamed, now more than ever in the era of virtual dotted miracles.
I'm an indigenous.
A native, if you want.
A wild man, if you prefer.
A Munduruku, if you really want to know the whole story.
Here I am serene.
Ready to fight with concern.
With eyes hidden by eyelids that life has given me.
Courage and hope say the flesh-colored tattoos on it that a very few see and admire.
Sure, I know.
I know that the outline that defines my existence evokes the deceased of the crime scene.
This is what your world translates, outside of those overvalued boundaries.
Nevertheless, to unmask the illusion, you can read my words.
You may also watch my chest slowly vibrating in time with heart, if curiosity gets the upper hand.
Or you could listen to the sound of dreams disguised as thoughts, if you want to indulge the imagination.
Of course, this is not making me go to win in the end.
Sure, sooner or later the poisonous intruder of plastic and metal will be lifted up, celebrated and told with all usurped honors.
And them, as logic demands, will prevail over us.
However, in the while.
I am here.
I'm here, hand in hand with my brothers.
I'm here, hand in hand with my indigenous brothers.
I'm here, hand in hand with my indigenous brothers Munduruku.
With our back on the ground, eyes closed and body surrounded by a border under the illusion to stop us.
I'm here to fight.
Because this is what they usually do.
The people of the living.
Read more environmental stories
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
In Brazil the Munduruku indigenous people are protesting against the government, guilty of wanting to build 40 dams on the Tapajós River basin; the project cannot be justified even economically, according to a recent report by Greenpeace.
It seems that only the first one of the planned dams would flood 400 square kilometers of pristine rainforest, causing the deforestation of an area of 2,200 square kilometers.
The Munduruku are an ethnic group of just over eleven thousand, and seems to know only count up to five, defining generally people from outside as “them”.
Here I am, still.
With my back on the ground, confident.
Because I am loved and defended by who I love you defend.
From them.
Indeed, I say it and I'm not ashamed, now more than ever in the era of virtual dotted miracles.
I'm an indigenous.
A native, if you want.
A wild man, if you prefer.
A Munduruku, if you really want to know the whole story.
Here I am serene.
Ready to fight with concern.
With eyes hidden by eyelids that life has given me.
Courage and hope say the flesh-colored tattoos on it that a very few see and admire.
Sure, I know.
I know that the outline that defines my existence evokes the deceased of the crime scene.
This is what your world translates, outside of those overvalued boundaries.
Nevertheless, to unmask the illusion, you can read my words.
You may also watch my chest slowly vibrating in time with heart, if curiosity gets the upper hand.
Or you could listen to the sound of dreams disguised as thoughts, if you want to indulge the imagination.
Of course, this is not making me go to win in the end.
Sure, sooner or later the poisonous intruder of plastic and metal will be lifted up, celebrated and told with all usurped honors.
And them, as logic demands, will prevail over us.
However, in the while.
I am here.
I'm here, hand in hand with my brothers.
I'm here, hand in hand with my indigenous brothers.
I'm here, hand in hand with my indigenous brothers Munduruku.
With our back on the ground, eyes closed and body surrounded by a border under the illusion to stop us.
I'm here to fight.
Because this is what they usually do.
The people of the living.
Read more environmental stories
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: