Los Arhuacos: The Governor

Nabusimake, Arhuaco spiritual center

Four-hours later, we arrive at Nabusímake, the one man authorized to speak for the community, the Governor–this one in front of me with the sparkling dentures–has been waiting for us since morning.  Although Wilbur and Juan

I think being Governor means you have better access to dental care...

Raul have given me a thorough introduction to this community, I am very excited, to sit down on the earth, on their sacred land and listen to what he has to say.  I violate the basic law of interviewing, and ask three questions in one.

What is the essence of being Arhuaco? What is the significance of the Poporo?  And what is your community’s development plan?

Dipping his stick deep in the poporo, pulling out limestone to mix with his coca leaves he begins.  “Nabusímake is the capital of the world.  The Arhuacos, led by our spiritual elders, the Mamos, lead us in making decisions by consensus.

He is warming up...

Obviously, the leader..

Every ceremony we complete is to protect Mother earth, the water, the air, the forest, the animals.   It is all being lost.  We believe that Arhuaco culture is equal to all cultures in the world–but different,” he says, applying the mixture of saliva and coca along the neck of the gourd in a repetitive motion.

Poporo-ing seems to be a complement to thinking.  It is difficult for him to talk without continuing this subconscious action.

“The essence of Arhuacan thought is like this: every element completes a mission on the planet, we should do no harm, hurt none of them.  It is the earth that gives life: the rocks, water, animals, the sun, the air, we can’t lose even one of these elements.  Our thought is very different than the white man’s.  He sees the water as his to sell.  For him, everything is business.  He only thinks about how to sell the rocks that he wants to steal from the earth.”

I am taking notes verbatim, unsure of what I will do with his exposition, but I want to write down this story in his words.  All three of them are poporo-ing, the sound of the three men rubbing the sticks along the gourd begins to sounds like sanding chairs.

word for word...

“We are here to protect nature, to conserve it, to live in balance with it.  We must think about our grandchildren, they will need to live from the earth as well.  It is not easy to be indigenous, many of our brothers have abandoned our culture.  In the other world, your world, the point is to be important, to individually become something, for us no individual is more important than the whole, we are equals.  We conserve mother earth together.”

Wilbur's brother on the right, no longer wearing traditional clothes, having cut his hair...is he too an Arhuaco?

As he talks about the brothers who have abandoned their identity, I look up at Wilbur’s brother here in the circle—short hair, western clothes, no longer fully accepted as one of them.

Coca leaves in his mouth...

“It is harder and harder for us to live our reality, we go to school become professionals—like Wilbur and Juan Raul.  We have to understand your systems and your organizations.  If we are going to learn to produce organic coffee for many years in a way that preserves the soil and is respectful of the animals, we must work with you.  We realize we can’t shut out the white man, your culture wants to absorb us—so we must understand you.  We have agreed that our economy will be based on the sale of high quality coffee—and not tourism.  Ten years ago, we didn’t know that we could live from coffee, it is difficult to understand the market, to develop a brand we can sell.   We think if we can produce 12,000 tons of coffee, we can achieve our dreams but only if we remain strong inside. If we don’t have clarity, our culture will become weak and fall apart.”

Our interview comes to an end and the Governor takes us for a tour around their land.  As we walk I realize that I am beginning to learn that my job as a USAID officer in Colombia is different than in Bosnia and Pakistan.  Because here the imperative is stronger to support local economic activity while strengthening the identity of the tribes in a way that conserves nature.  The questions and complexities were different in the previous two countries I lived in.

A coffee farmer..

Including the Governor, I have interviewed five men in the community to understand their rituals.  My best guess is that the act of poporo-ing is their most powerful ritual to remember who they are.  The center of being an Arhuacan man is to hold this gourd, chew the coca mixed with limestone, and repeat a physical motion with their hands that says: the earth is my mother and I, man, am here to protect it.  This dried fruit represents my wife, and through procreation, through planting seeds in the earth and woman, fertile aspects of the universe, we create life.

He rubs the substance, taken out of the gourd and mixed with coca leaves and saliva on the neck of the gourd, to thicken it.

I have to admit I totally get this. Rumi said, make regular visits to
yourself, the Quran says, its all a remembering, and like the Muslims
who stop five times a day, in accordance with the placement of the sun, to remember their relationship with Allah, this too is a daily, on going,
culturally reinforced form of meditation.

On our ride down the mountain to the collection center, my Catholic colleagues, Wilbur the Arhuacan guide and I discuss these ideas.  We each add our lived experience to the exploration.  What is the role of the body and the natural world in worship: Catholics kneeling in prayer, Muslims prostrating themselves towards Mecca throughout the day, Yogis praying through the movement of a sun salutation? And how does one stay connected to their deepest value, the core of their identify cultivating moment-to-moment awareness?  Some Catholics, Muslims and Hindus still use prayer beads, clearly the poporo serves a similar purpose.  Buddhists meditate.

The conversation, like this crazy road, winds through complex questions around women’s roles in these traditions and the prevalence of homosexuality.

I love this guy!

My friend, the careful reader, asked me this morning, as I try to finish telling this story, “But Amy, why why why is this important to you?”  I found myself answering the question like this.

Coming off my silent retreat last month, and the twenty years of spiritual practice before that, I have wanted to deepen my understanding of how to integrate spirituality and sexuality.  The invitation is to move beyond seeing these aspects of the self as somehow different and separate–a profoundly difficult task, re-integration, given the methodical disintegration of the body and worship in my own religious tradition.

I tell him that few people on the planet have found a way to keep the lights on in terms of their spirituality.  My observation, having lived in four cultures during the past two decades, is that most of my friends, people I often met in religious communities and Universities found that what was being taught, for one reason or another, “wasn’t enough, didn’t make sense, was disassociated from nature, sexuality, daily life—was simply to small.”  Generally, they have walked away, turned the lights off—excelling professionally, pursuing physically fitness, and emotional health—but spiritually their growth stunted.  Somehow, I believe that the separation of our spiritual life, as something other and different from self as lover, friend, creator, co-inhabitant of the plant has something to do with this.

And Wilbur, Juan Raul and the Governor offer a model of spiritual life that is connected to the earth and rooted in the realities of their sexuality, and the need to engage market realities without losing their way.

Father and son..

I love how deeply connected they are to their identity, community, and the earth. It fascinates me to begin to understand how they are regaining their cultural identity in the face of aggressive market forces and a history in which Catholic missionaries came into their community, made them cut their hair, learn Spanish and reject their indigenous language, and worship the Christian God. Lots of the men, like Wilbur’s brother, have become westernized, wearing jeans, but still poporo-ing and exchanging coca leaves as a greeting.
Fundamentally, I identify with them.
I too am fighting to preserve or remember or create a self that is centered in the movements of the sun, with my hands on the earth, embodying an integrated spirituality and sexuality.  Meeting these kindred spirits, “Keepers of the World” helps light the way…

——————————————————————(Post view)————-

I spend the afternoon, talking to father and son at the collection center.  They spent 6 hours this morning bringing their coffee down the mountain on a donkey.  I am drawn to the raw beauty in their faces, their evolving understanding of why the coffee has to be dried here according to certain standards and of course, their meditation practice.

Imagine walking for 6 hours down these mountains with your entire harvest piled on this donkey...

The end...

The Gang: Wilbur (7) on the left, Juan Raul (9) on the left...Camilo (8) and Jimena (6) my USAID colleagues...and tons of dried coffee..