South America’s Amazonia Blurs the Present and the Past

Tracing the route of a 16th-century expedition, a photographer finds that in the jungle today, tribal myths coexist with modernity.

As told toJeremy Berlin and Yann Gross

7 min read

remote village in Peru — In Tipishca, Peru—a rainy, remote village near the Curaray River—houses are built on stilts to keep water out. Locals have seen a spike in traffic and pollution on the river since oil companies appeared in the area.

This story appears in the February 2017 issue of National Geographic magazine.

Noble savages, lost cities, pristine wilderness—Amazonia has always conjured romantic myths and stereotypes. But what is the jungle really like in the 21st century? In 2011 I set out to find the answer.

My interest actually began in 2008, when I was working with an indigenous community to reforest a patch of northeastern Brazil. The youngsters in the village liked to talk about the purity of tribal life, but it was a borrowed nostalgia. Like most kids their age, they danced, drank, and played soccer. One evening they refused to take me to a party; I wasn’t dressed well enough. At that moment I realized how much our perceptions and projections can differ from reality.

After that I started to read books about Amazonia. One of them was an account of the Spanish soldier Francisco de Orellana’s voyage down the Amazon River in the 1540s—the first European exploration of the region (but not, of course, the last). I decided to follow in the footsteps of that expedition, to see what the route is like today.

cultural group on river, Peru — Religious beliefs still hold sway in Amazonia. In Santo Tomás, Peru, the indigenous Cocama people push back against modernity and urban sprawl by preserving tribal mythologies. Dressed as uakaris, a local type of monkey, a village cultural group artistically interprets an old tribal ritual. Other villagers wear body paint and demonic masks to reconnect with their ancestral heritage.

boy in red shirt on car — Sitting on a rusted-out Volkswagen near Dourados, Brazil, Vitor “Gangsta” da Souza strikes a rapper’s pose. The young rap enthusiast lives in a temporary camp between two sugarcane elds. Appropriation runs in his family: His father built a garage out of old car parts.

indigenous man, Brazil — Amazonia is home to millions of species, including humans and rodents. Just outside the forest, in Guaiviry, Brazil, Dulcídio Gomes entertains children by pairing traditional garb with a Batman mask. In Buena Vista, Peru, a paca—a type of forest rodent prized for its tender meat—is kept as a pet but will soon be a meal.

rodent with fruit — Amazonia is home to millions of species, including humans and rodents. Just outside the forest, in Guaiviry, Brazil, Dulcídio Gomes entertains children by pairing traditional garb with a Batman mask. In Buena Vista, Peru, a paca—a type of forest rodent prized for its tender meat—is kept as a pet but will soon be a meal.

Starting in the Ecuadorian Andes, I slowly made my way downriver. For six weeks I traveled through the Peruvian Amazon on a medical boat from Peru’s navy. I arrived in Colombia, and finally Brazil, where I picked up the Trans-Amazon Highway. Access was often tricky, and usually expensive. I did a lot of research just to find routes that would work.

As I traveled, I photographed staged scenes of the people and places I encountered. I didn’t look for unspoiled nature or uncontacted tribes; I collaborated directly with local communities. In one of them, in Brazil, I shot a video clip for some indigenous rappers. Later I went back to their village and led a one-month video workshop. Good relationships with local people help me create meaningful work.

I hope this project reveals how ambiguous and complicated modern Amazonia really is. Many people there today aren’t indigenous; they’re there for economic reasons. Not all of them are against development. Once you have some comfort, it’s hard to go backward.