Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Where You'll Eventually End Up if You Leave the Forest

A few nights ago, I watched two documentaries that, on first glance, might seem to have no connection points, but the next morning, in a flash of insight, I realized how nicely they dovetail.

The first was "A Certain Kind of Death," which shows the viewer, in sometimes graphic detail, what happens to those who die with no next of kin. We see the initial police investigation of the body, followed by efforts to find family through papers in the deceased's residence, the eventual carting away of possessions and their sale at a monthly auction, the burning of the body in the crematory, and finally, burial of the ashes in a mass grave. The only exception was one man who had about $60,000 in the bank. After the City of Los Angeles deducted expenses for the government workers and the movers, his estate was left with sufficient funds to bury him in a beautiful, old cemetary in Mendocino, which I recall from my days in Pt. Arena. He had left detailed sketches as to where he wished to be placed.

The other documentary, "Keep the River on Your Right: A Modern Cannibal Tale," concerned the late artist-turned-anthrologist Tobias Schneebaum, a life-long New Yorker who, in his early 30s, went to Peru on a Fullbright and ended up deep in the jungle. He was befriended by a tribe that had had little or no contact with outsiders. The men would take Tobias hunting, but one day, what Tobias had thought was a trek to hunt for animals turned out to be a war party. Though he did not participaate in the massacre of the men in the other tribe's village, a spear was placed in his hand after a man had already died and he was pressured into piercing the corpse. What's more, the warriors then began to eat their victims, and Tobias felt that he had to take one bite. This so distubed Tobias that he left the tribe without saying goodbye and headed back to civilization. He did not return for 45 years, pressured to do so by the film crew. (Actually, most of the film takes place in New Guinea, where he had also befriended a tribe and had a very deep connection with a male lover.)

Since Tobias' first visit, the tribe had moved deeper into the forest to get away from the missionaries. Still, their way of life had completely changed. When Tobias arrives, the village is assembled in a common house watching TV. Empty beer bottles are piled up underneath the house, which is raised off the ground on stilts. The people are wearing clothes now, primarily football jerseys and shorts. I often wonder if visiting anthropologists and adventure tourists bring them football jerseys, thinking they will make cool gifts.

To Tobias' surprise, one woman and at least two men whom he knew 45 years ago are still alive. The woman says, rather forlornly it seemed to me, "Now we're wearing clothes. But that's OK." I got the feeling she would much prefer to be nude again and to see the men nude.

In no way am I endorsing cannibalism, but it was so clear to me that these people's power had been so greatly diminished. Previously they had been self-sufficient, deeply in touch with their surroundings, sensual and proud. Now they were sitting around in dirty football jerseys, watching TV and drinking beer.

I saw so profoundly the connection between these Peruvian villagers and the men in LA who had died with no next of kin. Dying alone in a filthy, cockroach-infested apartment in a big city is the end result of leaving the forest.

Followers

About Me

Southern California, United States
Perhaps my friend Mark summed me up best when he called me "a mystical grammarian." I am quite a mix--otherworldly, ethereal and in touch with "the beyond," yet prone to being very precise and logical, when need be. Romantic in the big-canvas meaning of the word, I see the world as an adventure, as a love poem, as a realm of beauty and wonder.

Blog Archive