On the last day of 2012 we boarded yet another bus in our long list of ill-fitting buses and headed to Boruca, the main settlement within the Boruca Indigenous Reserve. Do not be
mislead by the use of ill-fitting, for, despite their leisurely pace, the
quality of the buses is more than sufficient. The problem at hand is that the
seats are designed bearing in mind the average height of Costa Ricans, which,
for men, is nearly 20 cm less than the stature of yours truly. As you can
imagine, negotiating bumpy roads with barely a few inches of meager legroom and
a vacuum behind your head which lets your neck wobble like a boxing ball is not
a pleasant experience.
After a two hour journey
during which we constantly had to ask our neighbors where we had to get off, the
driver informed us that we had reached the entrance to Boruca. Unbeknownst to
us, we were twelve kilometers of devastatingly steep, arid dirt away from the
actual town.
In hindsight, we regarded
the sheer path ahead of us and the gleaming noon sun with too much disdain. We nearly
paid for our foolishness and disrespect when, after half an hour, unable to
find a shade to rest, we began questioning if we had made the right decision.
Luckily, a kind family coerced us into riding in the back of their pick-up
truck and turned what would have been a painstaking five hour hike into a 30
minute rollercoaster ride through the jarring unpaved hills.
Once in the town, we
installed our camping tent and proceeded to discover what the town had to
offer, including a majestic waterfall and an ancient blend of dancing and
bull-fighting.
Submerged in the Talamanca
Mountains and encircled by the scenic valley of the Rio Grande de Terraba, this
secluded site was once part of a vast territory. Before the arrival of the Spanish Empire in the 16th century, the Coto, Turruca, Borucac, Quepos and the Abubaes feuded over the region of the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, from present day Quepos to the frontier with Panama. Today, the Boruca are a composite group of nearly 2500 people, formed by the descendants of the dispersed tribes, who are said to have survived the invasion thanks to the aid of natural spirits.
Despite crowning a
captivating mountain range and proudly boasting a phenomenally picturesque
cultural tradition, Boruca is dreadfully indistinct from any ordinary Costa
Rican town. Granted, this characteristic has positive and negative aspects.
The first indigenous reserve to receive
government aide, Boruca has been endowed with electricity, well equipped
schools and a centralized structure for a quarter century. The view, otherwise rural
and organic; adorned with banana-leaf-roofed ranchos, is abhorrently obstructed with cables, a massive cross,
satellite dishes and a devastating amount of garbage.
Tourists, often deceived
into visiting insipid cultural sites, may consider the town fairly
unexceptional if they visit during any other time of the year. But, peculiarly coinciding
with the end of the Christian year, from the evening of December 30th
until the twilight of January 2nd, the Borucas celebrate the Fiesta de los Diablitos (Festival of the
Little Devils) in commemoration of their survival against the forces of Spanish
conquistadors. This ritual with a side of party and a pinch of brawl is
anything but dull. The festivity is a flaming showcase of their culture and
spirit.
Minutes before midnight
on December 30th, the town’s elder summons all the diablitos – basically any male over 15
years old – to his house.
Once there, the diablitos commence parading the town
stopping at every house to drink chicha
(fermented corn liquor) and eat tamales.
The diablitos wear intricate hand-carved and painted balsa wood masks and
burlap sacks covered with jute and banana leaves. The procession is marked by
the relentless collisions against a bull – a few of the men take turns carrying
a heavy costume and bashing the diablitos– which represents the Spaniards.
The name ‘diablitos’, the
horned masks, and the fighting symbolize the shrewdness, guile, courage and
ardor that served them so well in resisting invading forces, while the sharing
of drinks and food is indicative of their undeniable hospitality, not only among
themselves, but with the few tourists who venture into the town to witness this
astonishing display.
The masks are the main
attraction and source of income throughout the year, when the diablitos drop
their costumes and work in the fields, in San Jose or manufacturing masks and
totems. However, during the festivity, it’s the evolving interaction with the
bull that draws the most attention, as the diablitos, increasingly inebriated
and aggressive, rampantly quarrel with the 40kg structure of the bull.
Adding to the uniquely
vibrant imagery of Boruca during these dates, each diablito proudly and
carefully carves and paints his own mask with colorful feathers, dramatic images of trees, flowers, animals
and of course, hostile, menacing horns. Each mask is exclusively
ornate, especially during the pinnacle of the feast, on January 2nd,
when approximately 100 locals dress up and taunt the bull until it eventually
gains ground and takes down all the diablitos.
Then, the bull runs away, but
the diablitos, inspired by the animal spirits that aided them centuries ago,
rise from the dead, hunt down the bull and toss it into a blistering fire as
they soar around the flames celebrating the victory. The revelry that ensues is
even more exhilarating than in the previous nights, as the citizens of Boruca
put on their best outfits and party well into the night.
So far we’ve had the
chance to meet members of three different indigenous groups, while visiting two
reserves. Despite being branded with the name ‘indigenous’, each of these
groups is very different from the others, not only regarding cultural characteristics
such as language, art and organization of society, but also with respect to
progress and development – where they find themselves at this moment in
history.
Their openness to the world outside their barriers, their knowledge of
world events, acceptance of tourism and external influences, as well as other
aspects beyond their endemic culture are shaping their societies in ways undeterminably
good or bad. Time will be the judge.
These groups continue to
be called indigenous but the meaning and usage of this word has loosely
dissipated in modern times. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines indigenous
as “having originated in and being produced, growing, or living naturally in a
particular region or environment”.
As
for ‘indigenous peoples’, there is no universally accepted definition, but according
to Wikipedia, there are three elements used to describe the term: the voluntary
perpetuation of cultural distinctiveness, an experience of subjugation, marginalization
and dispossession, and self-identification. However, according to these two
definitions, most of the world’s population is indigenous. Surely, there
must be something more to the essence of the word.
Colloquially, ‘indigenous’
is used to describe a close relationship with nature, respect for all things
living, separation from the modern urban society, and the upholding of ancient
traditions as core community values. Through the experiences of the last few
months we have come to the realization that perhaps ‘indigenous’ is no longer a
term to define a place of origin, but rather a way of living, a philosophy and
a sentiment.
The indigenous people of Boruca, as well as many others throughout the world are in danger of extinction. ‘Being indigenous’ is not passed on genetically. It requires education, reason, sacrifice and determination.
Thus, the inhabitants of Boruca will continue to be called indigenous because they live in the land that their ancestors fought and cared for, and have the physical traits of their parents; but must of them won’t be indigenous in regards to the colloquial understanding of the word – unless they consciously choose so.
‘Being indigenous’ is not about being different, about suffering from marginalization and racism, but about preserving the unique and valuable elements of their ancestry. We’ve met many ‘indigenous people’ who do not enjoy a traditional way of living, or who do not respect nature, just as there are many ‘non-indigenous people’ throughout the world who share the indigenous philosophy.
Progress will come not through imposing or opening the doors to the modern world, but by building a bridge through which education, information and respect can travel both ways.