On poverty and development

Last week saw me visit two native awajún communities in the Amazon rainforest, as I travelled to San Ignacio for work. The awajún are one of the many native tribes in Peru that have preserved their language and culture to this day. The days I spent with the awajún changed my perception of poverty and taught me more than years of academic studies. I used to think that poverty meant going to bed hungry, living in precarious housing and working long hours for a pittance. After numerous in-depth conversations with the awajún, I came to understand the question is a lot more complex. Material poverty may not be as difficult to face as lack of roots and culture.

On all standards, the awajún communities Naranjos and Supayaku (both in the Province of San Ignacio) are extremely poor. They lack electricity, clean drinking water, sewerage, waste disposal, and a telephone line. The nearest dirt road is a tiring six-hour walk away, on rough terrain. The daily diet consists mainly of yucca and plantain, and especially the children look severely undernourished. Consumer goods are nonexistent, and basic necessities like rice and sugar are expensive since they must be carried to the community by mule from far away.






However, the awajún do not wallow in self-pity for the hardships they have to face. No-one complained about the lack of modern conveniences. On the contrary, the villagers genuinely feel they are fortunate to live in a place like Supayaku. They are extremely proud of their cultural heritage and ancestral traditions. The awajún described with pride how they live in harmony with nature and each other. They enthusiastically showed me the best fishing spots, made me try their typical dishes (yucca, plantain, fish), and told me of the flora and fauna of the area. They spoke of breathing fresh air, bathing in the river, listening to the sounds of the rainforest that pulsates with life. Theirs is a happy life in all its simplicity.






Nevertheless, their way of life is endangered. The awajún fear that foreign mining companies and coffee exporters will come destroy their environment in search of the abundant natural resources the rainforest has to offer. In June, Peru gasped at the violent confrontation between awajún demonstrators and the police in Bagua which ended in hundreds of casualties. The natives asked the government to respect their way of life and put the interests of the indigenous peoples before the interests of multinational corporations. In the Peruvian media the awajún were frequently pictured as riotous troublemakers and primitive, ignorant natives. According to President Alan García, they are not exactly “first-class citizens”.

The government spurs prime commodity extraction by multinational companies in the Peruvian rainforest in the name of development. “How can they call it development if it brings death?” one of the community elders in Supayaku asked. The awajún do want development, but they want the right to determine themselves what is desirable development. They do want schools, health centres and roads. What they do not want is to see their mother tongue, their traditions and their way of life disappear.

In Supayaku I learnt that one does not need much in the way of possessions to lead a full, happy life. Despite the material poverty, I did not see desperation or suffering. Instead, I was amazed by how hospitable, kind, considerate and respectful people were. My colleague and I could not have been received more warmly. It seems that the less you have the more you are ready to give.