Backyard Monkeys

I was out on the patio the other day and I heard a lot of noise out in the backyard. I went to see, and a little monkey, a golden headed lion tamarin (also known as Gold and Black lion tamarins), went racing across the yard above me. It jumped up into the mango tree and went climbing, scolding. Right behind it was my big grey cat, almost the same size as the monkey. He went up to the tip of the branch that the little monkey had leapt to and sat staring in awe at the little creature disappearing into the treetop. The mate screamed from another tree,  complaining about the interruption.  It followed through the treetops and the pair headed away.
They are concentrated in this area of the coast because it is bordered by a long stretch of the Atlantic rainforest. Thanks to the cultivation of cacau, the area was spared much of the total devastation of other areas of rainforest, because the cacau needs shade to grow. Their habitat is the middle canopy of the forest, eating fruit, large insects and small animal prey. Development, for industry, human habitation, plantations, lumber, cattle, has resulted in a loss of more than 90% of this type of habitat. Recently a highway was built from Itacaré to Itaparica, which cut a swath through more lion tamarin territory. There are crossings for them,  rope ladders, in effect monkey bars, across the road every few kilometers or so.  Michelin has a preserve along the way, near Itubara, where the monkeys have a chance to live in peace. In Una there is a preserve that was established in 1980 for the protection of the species. Thanks to extensive conservation efforts there is more attention to the protection of habitat, and a growing awareness of the delicate situation of this marvelous little animal.
Antonio Pigafetta, the Jesuit who chronicled the voyage of Magellan around the world described them as "beautiful simian like cats similar to small lions."  My small lion like cat, Platin,  loves the hunt, but he is not a killer. He likes to sit under the trees and watch the catlike monkeys dance and shriek. They are there many mornings, attacking the termite nests and the ripe mangoes high up in the gigantic old tree.

We are glad there are monkeys in our back yard.

Indian Day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWtzBxtLYls&feature=related The Day of the Indian is April 19, the day that commemorates the participation of indigenous people  in the First Interamerican Indigenista Congress, which was held in Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico, in 1940.   Indigenous leaders and government officials from all of the Americas were invited, but for the first few days the of the congress the indigenous leaders boycotted the event, which was dominated by policy makers and politicians of the American states, such as President Lazaro Cardenas, sponsor of the event.  The day April 19 was passed into law as Day of the Indian in Brazil in 1943 by President Getúlio Vargas.  It is celebrated nationally every year, but as the song by Jorge ben Jor says, "Every day was Day of the Indian", before the Europeans showed up with the idea that all the land they saw was theirs.
Yesterday the Indians of the reserves and villages south of Ilheus got painted and dressed and took the highway, singing, dancing and making merry. The southern of coast of Bahia is where Brazil was discovered, and these villages of Guarani, Pataxo, Tupinamba have long had to deal with the encroachment of the outsiders, sometimes peacefully, and sometimes not. There are ongoing land disputes in this land that bears so many names from it's indigenous history: Jairi, Cururupe, Acuipe, Sirihyba. Yesterday what was celebrated was the ongoing vitality of these peoples, walking down the highway past hotels and condominiums,  following a route by the sea that perhaps their ancestors travelled, not just people from the Jairi village of the Tupinamba and the Guarani reserve, but friends and relatives from the outside communities, a joyous throng of Bahianos on a glorious Bahian Sunday.
I wish my camera worked, but no. I have yet to figure out how to get my photos to post, but I will try and leave a video with this post.
Let's celebrate an indigenous relationship to the Earth and our surroundings every day. We live here, let's take care of our home.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWtzBxtLYls&feature=related

Primavera

This is the land of Jorge Amado. This is where Gabriela worked her magic, and for all appearances still reigns. The Cacau coast of Bahia, where once the ownership of the land was hotly disputed. The land of the Colonels.  For all who do not know the works of Jorge Amado all I can do is recommend that you read, read, read. Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon is the best known of his books that tell the story of this land, the land where he was born. It is set in the time that the author grew up, the Ilheus and Itabuna of his youth.  Other books that further delve into the tortured history of this region are Showdown and Golden Harvest.  These concentrate on the story of the battles for posession of the land that was so valuable, the fortunes that were made from cacau, and how they were later destroyed. It is Gabriela though, that is the love story to Ilheus.  Ilheus, historic jewel on the southern coast of Bahia.  Founded in 1534, and once the capital of cacau, Ilheus is a surprising little city with architectural beauty, miles of beaches and a laidback lifestyle.  This blog will be dedicated to the tales of life along this stretch of the coast of Bahia, an amazing coastline from north to south. Information about the region, events, and places to stay, as well as being a resource for those who want to explore the area in more depth, or who want to live here. It is Spring. The final weeks before the veraneo, summer vacations. The beach, which is still deserted, will be full. All the holiday cottages will be rented. Parties everywhere. Summer beach frenzy. Ciao. More later