When I was 16, I was looking through the current January 1966 issue of National Geographic and came upon "The Waurá: Brazilian Indians of the Hidden Xingu." I was shocked to see pages of naked people, who lived naked. As a fundamentalist preacher's kid, my interest was definitely sparked.
It was no coincidence that the Xingu lifestyle and their acceptance of the human body led to my sneaking into a nudist camp a few months later and passing myself off as a member for seven hours. Eventually I found and bought the book, Xingu: The Indians, Their Myths by the Villas Boas brothers.
Kenneth Brecher wrote the Forward in this book, and when he left the Xingu after nearly two years of anthropological field work, he brought with him Tawapuh, a son-in-law of the Waurá chief, who was suffering from a hernia. “The Waurá’s knowledge of curing is extensive and effective, but does not extend to surgery.”
On the flight to the huge city of São Paulo, Brazil, Tawapuh wore clothes for the first time. Brecher stayed with him to translate for him, and he was afraid how Tawapuh’s experience in the city, with all its conveniences and attractions, might affect him and spoil his peace when he returned home. The Indian slept on a bed (instead of a hammock), used a flush toilet (instead of the jungle), and drank coffee (instead of manioc soup), for the first time.
Brecher writes: “After almost a week Tawapuh pulled my face close to his own and, looking sadly into my eyes, very quietly said: ‘How could you return to this world after seeing how we live? How can you breathe this foul air or sleep with these terrible noises [the traffic]? How can you eat this food made to have tastes which are not its own? Why would you want to have intercourse with these women who seem afraid to be women and hide themselves and cover their eyes? And who are these men with guns who stand in the paths of the village [the ever-present Brazilian military police]?
“’They are the men of the chief,’ I replied and without a moment’s hesitation Tawapuh continued:
“’Well then, your chief is not a real chief or he would not need men with guns to guard his village. How can you return to this after having been with us?’
“’Will you tell the tribe what you have seen?’ I asked Tawapuh.
“’No,’ he said, ‘they would not believe me, and they would be unhappy to think of you having to live here. The chief is an old man and it is better that he doesn’t know. Perhaps one day I will tell my son about your tribe. Perhaps not.’”
I searched through satellite images on the computer and found a Xingu village along the Amazon.
My mother-in-law, Miji Ryan, had spent some time in Brazil teaching, and I didn't know until after she died that she had vast collections of all sorts of fascinating things from her travels around the world, many of which were passed down to Micki, including several things from the Xingu!
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