/ 3 November 2004

Hope for the rainforests

In a quiet valley between the imposing statue of Christ the Redeemer and the Sugar Loaf Mountain, lies the beautiful botanical gardens of Rio de Janeiro. Amid the indigenous jacarandas and the few remaining pau-brasil trees (from which the country derives its name) is a recently erected memorial to Francisco Alves “Chico” Mendes.

Unveiled by President Inacio Luis Lula da Silva, the monument pays tribute to an iconic Brazilian conservationist and champion of the poor who lost his life in a bitter confrontation between “traditional” Amazonian rubber tappers and destructive ranchers and prospectors who had moved in to slash and burn the forests.

The gardens are a useful introduction to the botany and political ecology of modern Brazil under the progressive leadership of Lula, as he is known to locals. The belated recognition of what Mendes stood for symbolises the progressive approach with which the Lula government seems to be addressing conservation of Brazil’s unimaginably impressive biodiversity and natural systems.

South Africans who end up in the rainforests of Brazil will find scenes that conform to the sources of their primal concepts of rainforests, like the images from The Golden Book of the Jungle that have haunted my dreams of travelling in the Amazon since I could read. They will also find in the legacy of Mendes, the ways in which the Brazilians are trying to save their forests, much in common with our current approaches to conservation.

The pau-brasil tree, Caesalpinia sp, was once widespread along the Atlantic coastal forest zone. Valued for the red dye obtained from its bark, it soon became a threatened species. Logging, mining, livestock, soya cultivation and other threats still hang over much of Brazil’s great Amazon basin, and statistics on deforestation seem alarming. However, recent innovations, including the use of satellite-based imagery, assist the authorities in monitoring what was once, seemingly, a virtually lawless free-for-all. This, coupled with statutory measures aimed at controlling destructive exploitation and ordering resource use, provide cause for optimism.

About 7% of Brazil is formally protected in a nationwide network of protected areas, with much focus on the Amazon rainforests. These include more than 30 national parks, similar in purpose to those in South Africa, but not always accessible to even the hardiest tourist. Other categories include scientific and ecological reserves, protected to serve as reference, or “witness” sites, as well as an array of protected areas where controlled, sustainable use of natural resources is permitted. These include extraction reserves, national forests and environment protection areas.

The estimated 300 000 remaining descendants of the country’s original inhabitants are also the focus of programmes aimed at ensuring their rights to live in the manner that they choose, in line with modern concepts known rather clumsily as community-based conservation. These people are enabled to sustain their chosen way of life by making careful use of the wealth of wild things that grow and live in the rainforests. Respect for the ancient cultures that rely on such forms of community-based natural resource management, is evidenced by the fact that now formal permission is required to even visit some so-called Indian reserved zones.

The greater Amazon basin is about six million kilometres squared in extent (at 1,2-million kilometres squared, South Africa would “fit into” this five times). The sheer size, and the inaccessibility of some parts, further contribute to its survival. One in every five litres of fresh water that flows into Earth’s oceans comes from this great river. In terms of biodiversity, a typical hectare (100m x 100m) of rainforest contains between 180 and 250 species of plants alone. There are purportedly more than 1 000 species of palm. And the list goes on.

The “jungle” is a far more hospitable, evocative and visitor-friendly place than is often popularly portrayed. There are several ways to experience the assault on the senses (including that poorly definable sixth one) that a trip to the Amazon provides. By boat from Belem at the mouth, up the river with stops at various villages and the larger cities of Santarem or the capital of Amazonas, Manaus.

Take advice on this, or you could spend an uncomfortable trip on a “bring your own hammock” barge.

Developed at the peak of the rubber export boom, Manaus has several stately buildings reflecting the architecture of the period, a bustling port with a floating dock, and the ubiquitous shanty towns or favelas. Parks within and near Manaus provide a fascinating first glimpse of the floral and faunal riches. From Manaus, operators offer trips into the region with varying degrees of comfort, many employ trained and registered guides. Certainly, the guides we encountered were knowledgeable and communicated their knowledge with enthusiasm and conviction.

A few kilometres downstream, the “official” Brazilian Amazon begins. This is the famous meeting of the waters, just one of many wonders to be found within this wonder of the world. Here, the Rio Negro with its dark, tannin laden, but particle-poor water, meets the Solimoes river, which has picked up silt and other eroded particles from the geologically younger Andes region in which it has its source. The two rivers, one dark, one white, flow together side by side for several kilometres before their waters finally merge.

Upstream from Manaus, along the Rio Negro, which is more than 20km wide in parts, lies the Anavilhanas, a collection of islands forming one of the largest freshwater archipelagos in the world. Only accessible by special permit, this protected environment is home to the Amazon manatee and two species of freshwater dolphin, including the pink dolphin, source of folkloric fantasy.

It is said that they have the ability to shape-shift into handsome young men whom no village lass is able to resist. There are tales of many a maiden registering the father of their child as one Boto Vermelha. the local name for these creatures. Folklore, legend perhaps, but this scientifically trained tourist somehow “felt” the presence before two pink dolphins introduced themselves to our boat.

Sixty kilometres west of Manaus, the Ariau Jungle Towers, a remarkable if slightly jaded establishment, offers food, a place to stay and activities. Inspired by Jacques Cousteau, the accommodation is in what could be termed comfortable cubicles in a series of towers connected by elevated wooden walkways. These afford an excellent canopy-level insight into the local action. Here a sloth moves in purposeful but painstakingly slow motion; there a flight of parakeets noisily engorge themselves on fruits; a glimpse of scarlet as a macaw flashes by. Squirrel monkeys go busily about their foraging and the sounds of numerous unknowns assail the ears.

A trek through the forest provides innumerable fruits, barks, leaves to touch and taste in this living pharmacy: chew this bark, anti-malarial and female contraceptive properties; these spines cure rheumatism; one of those mushrooms will keep you goofed for 18 hours plus; lianes that contain freshwater sufficient to quench the thirst in this 30ÞC plus, environment. Oh yes, and even brazil nuts. Here we taste a grub in a palm fruit: the grub eats and replaces the nut in its shell, and tastes exactly like a palm nut but only softer and squishier. Not to mention guarana, current fave of the rave brigade.

We meet local people in a few small settlements along the tributaries. Manioc (cassava) is widely grown as a staple, with fish, local fruits and hunting supplementing the diet. Even the smallest village had a freshwater supply from an underground well driven by an electric submersible pump. Electricity was provided by a diesel generator, courtesy of the government. Some villages had single-room schools up to the end of primary level. In one village people were constructing dormitory-type accommodation for tourists.

The region offers a lifetime experience to those fortunate enough to get there, an opportunity that is being sustained by Lula in his attempts to achieve the vision articulated by Mendes, that of a beautiful land where the biodiversity, the natural resource base, is maintained and the well-being of people is enhanced.

Dr David Grossman is an expert on modern approaches to conservation in Africa. He also loves the Amazon

The lowdown

South African visitors do not require visas, but do require yellow fever inoculation to visit Brazil. Consult your travel clinic for advice on malaria precautions as it does occur in parts of the region.

Economy class flights from Johannesburg to São Paolo cost about R4 500 and from São Paolo to Manaus about R5 500. There are several tour operators in Manaus. For more information visit Embratur: www.embratur.gov.br/ or contact your local travel agent.

English is widely spoken, but ability to speak Brazilian Portuguese will help. Poorly spoken Mozambique Portuguese causes merriment. Food is lovely, a wide array of local fresh fruits, fish, manioc meal and it is all reasonably priced if not downright cheap in comparison to South Africa. Caipirinhas, the national blend of cane spirit, sugar, limes and crushed ice is a must. And don’t eat the (mu)shrooms as a general rule.