PuraVida Post 10-Reflections on a Career (2023-02-08): No. 2 in a Series

February 08, 2023  •  Leave a Comment

pvda92twkha-012pvda92twkha-012Pipantes at dawn on the Rio Patuca "...when conservationists find unprotected land that has high biological diversity, it's because there are people living there who possess traditional ecological knowledge that protects not only biological diversity but cultural diversity.”

Mark Dowie, "Conservation Refugees; The Hundred-Year Conflict between Global Conservation and Native Peoples"


If Peace Corps was an empowering experience, then living and working with the Tawahka Indians was a humbling one. For a few months in early 1992, I lived with this indigenous group in the rain forest of northwestern Honduras, conducting field research on their culture, resource management techniques, agricultural and fishing practices, and environmental threats they faced from outside forces-primarily cattle ranchers and environmental refugees. Mostly though, I grew to love and learn from these generous, welcoming people who accepted me into their homes and lives.

Recently, my mid-20s son asked me how I learned about the Tawahka and went about arranging my trip to go work with them. We’ve lived for so long with the ease and convenience of the internet that I’d nearly forgotten how conducting research used to be. In that not so long-ago analog world, you’d go to the library, peruse the card catalog, browse the academic journals, wander among the stacks and spend hours reading and reading. In my case, I happened on an article in Cultural Survival describing the work of MOPAWI (Mosquitia Pawisa Apiska, or Agency for the Development of the Mosquitia), a non-governmental organization that supported the initial attempts to establish a Tawahka protected area in the middle Rio Patuca region. From there I narrowed my search and contacted (by snail mail, of course) the author, Peter Herlihy, who put me in touch with Andrew Leake, then Director of MOPAWI. 

 

Eventually all the arrangements, permissions, and money came together so that in January 1992, under MOPAWI’s sponsorship, I found myself in the Honduran capital, Tegucigalpa, buying 10 lb. bags of rice and beans to take with me to the field and the family that would be preparing my meals. My short stay in the capital soon became a journey to La Mosquitia by way of bus, puddle jumper air service SAMI (morbidly referred to as “Servicio Aereo Muerte Instantaneo”), and finally a 6+ hour trip upriver by pipante to the Tawahka village, Krausirpe, located in the Rio Patuca rain forest. 

But what ostensibly was a grad student’s thesis project instead became a rich learning experience for a naïve first-time field researcher. 

 

An indigenous group of approximately 1,500, the Tawahka lived on Honduras’ northern Caribbean coast until the early 17th century when they were forced inland by the dominant Miskito Indians. Over time, the Tawahka adopted new subsistence patterns (primarily hunting, fishing and swidden agriculture) which, over the centuries, have had minimal impact on the region’s biodiversity and ecological integrity. In fact, as the Downie quote above illustrates, the Tawahka’s cultural practices promote biological diversity. That biological and cultural diversity is what I had gone there to study.

A healthy "guamil," or Tawahka farming plot, mimics the rain forest's natural structure. A guamil is normally abandoned after one of two growing seasons, allowing the forest to reclaim the land.

 

My experience among the Tawahka was akin to a rookie trying to make a good impression on the sportsball field while still fumbling with the mechanics of the game. In this case, I, as a field research first-timer, had some firm plans and activities in mind (semi-structured interviews, take lots of pictures, be a participant observer), but never had anything but classroom training on how to conduct research with human subjects. Similar to my Peace Corps experience, I felt I was making it up as I went along. But that flexibility (and challenge) wasn’t necessarily a bad thing-I visited all five Tawahka villages along the Rio Patuca, conducted a census, participated in daily home and agricultural life, met with Tawahka leaders, and did my best to integrate myself into the community for the three months I lived there. It all added up to what was already evident, to me, at least; that the Tawahka knew, understood, and honored the boundaries to their natural resource management practices.

Preparation of the guamil normally takes 6-8 weeks until the first crops sprout.

 

In the end, two experiences taught me more about myself and my preconceptions about the Tawahka and indigenous people in general. The first occurred when a local politician visited Krausirpe making promises and seeking votes, prompting cynical comments from my companions that, “they only show up every 4 years and then disappear.” That was my first clue that the Tawahka weren’t naïve but rather, savvy political observers.

 

By far, the most instructive experience for me was when the Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up in Krausirpe one day to pass out donated clothing and leaflets extolling their religious virtues. As a reactionary young man who felt that religious figures should direct their efforts toward saving actual lives than souls, I was indignant, offended, angry! Oh my, the self-righteousness! I remember spending that morning observing the kids coming out of school with new T-shirts and shoes, along with comic books depicting Jesus spreading the word. Finally, I asked my informant, Anastacio, what he thought about all of it. His response, though not his intention, put me in my place. “Oh, they’re nice and the comic books give us something to read, and if we run out of toilet paper, we have a back-up.” 

 

At that moment, I understood that the Tawahka weren’t helpless innocents, but a complex peoples with a clear understanding of the world’s realities, their place in it, and a (wicked) sense of humor.

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pvda92bwtwhka-002pvda92bwtwhka-002Polinaria Gonzales

Over the years since I was in Krausirpe, although the Tawahka have remained somewhat geographically isolated, they’ve still struggled with the challenge many indigenous peoples face: how to maintain the values and cultural practices that make them unique while resisting outside threats to the tropical rain forest ecology and their natural resource management practices. The Tawahka Asangni Biosphere Reserve (TABR), formally designated in 2002, was meant to curtail outside impacts on the Tawahka. Unfortunately, pressure from wealthy cattle ranchers, environmental refugees, and drug runners continues to threaten the Tawahka’s culture and livelihood, as well as the stunning natural beauty of the middle Rio Patuca region.

Colonists burning rain forest. Note the checkerboard pattern of cleared/abandoned fields indicative of destructive slash and burn agriculture.

Undisturbed old-growth rain forest in La Mosquitia.

 

In my first essay on international development, I wrote about its subversive nature. Those two incidents I described introduced me to a novel concept; the notion that communities are (or should be) in control of their own development, their own progress. I would later learn from the book, “They Know How,” that innovative (and subversive) concept was widely accepted in certain development circles and that a small government agency, the Inter-American Foundation (IAF), had been putting the idea into practice for over two decades.

 

More later…

 


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