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The Village People
True, Brunton says, most days back home in the pueblo of Mogue, population 475, the Embera wear shorts and shirts. Loincloths and paint are for special occasions: Embera evening wear. "We don't walk around with tuxedos except on special occasions, and they don't either," Brunton says.
Coming to Washington, and other ports of call, qualifies as a special occasion.
  Embera Indians dance onboard the Pajaro Jai in traditional garb, although at home they are more likely to be found wearing shorts and shirts. (By Robert A. Reeder -- The Washington Post) |
"We wanted to represent our culture," says the village's president of culture, Emiliano Caisamo, backing Brunton on the dress issue.
Brunton solved the question of how to showcase the female Embera, dressed in the traditional way with skirts and beads: When they are on deck to perform their native songs and dance, they have to cover their breasts with strips of a sheet Brunton sliced up.
That's that, then. On to other questions.
Do the Embera trust this Brunton?
"We have already seen his work in our community," Rito says, including helping the village sell enough crafts in the United States to pay for a rice mill and a "House of Culture" that doubles as a hotel for eco-tourists. Plus, Brunton employed numerous Embera in building the boat. "We believe we can trust his will and his heart. . . . He lets us speak for ourselves, in our own voice."
Mogue, about 70 miles from the Colombian border, is struggling, Rito says. There are few economic opportunities for children. The native language is dying, the culture is disappearing. Some foreign-aid contractors are buying up land for conservation -- and kicking out the indigenous people. There are about 15,000 Embera, who have lived for generations as farmers and hunters in the region.
The Embera have high hopes for their three-month voyage. Rito says he hopes that by putting their very existence and their beautiful wood before the world, they will open markets for their products.
"We want to see what we can do to shape our future," he says.
Brunton, for his part, has decided that the foreign-aid system is broken. Too much distance between the bureaucrats designing aid projects and the indigenous people who are supposed to benefit.
"I've been down there 40 years and I haven't seen a damn thing improve," he says. "What better help than to shorten the distance between impulse and impact?"
