By Sr. Alice Lansang, ICM

The first law of colonization is: Get the gold – No wonder the original peoples, who were almost totally wiped put by colonists, are still suspicious of foreigners. So Sr. Alice Lansang, coming from a land itself colonized, knew she had to tread gently.

A Dream

When I entered the convent way back in the 60’s, I would often dream of living and working among our mountain people, after the example of our pioneering Belgian sisters. However, the congregation had other plans and needs. It dawned on me that Gods dreams didn’t exactly match mine. Or was it a question of timing? At any rate, I held on to this dream.

Has the Time Come?

Some thirty years later, while on a Youth Camp in Belgium, the theme happened to be: 500 years Renaissance of the Indigenous People. The conclusion of the reflections in the group I was accompanying was: “Alice, when you go back to Brazil, couldn’t you help the natives in the preservation of their cultures? You have seen for yourself here in Europe that humanity had need of their way of life and values.” That set me thinking” Has the time come for a dormant dream to wake up? I Aware that a long road lay between a dream on the one hand, and the task of discerning a specific call and living it on the other. So I whispered in my heart: “Spirit, blow where you will; show me the way.”

A Time Testing

Back in Brazil, my own Order was well aware that evangelizing among our indigenous people was a priority of the Church – that this mission lies at the heat of our own charism, precisely because these people are among the oppressed. The big question was: at 57, would I be able to cope with the rigorous demands of such a life? In fact I had never worked or lived in a rural area before, let alone in an Indian village in the Amazon region, the only way to answer the question was to plunge into such and experience, the coordinator of CIMI NII wisely advised me to test myself with a live-in among the rural folks of the region. So I l went to live with a group of indigenous people I shared all the activities of daily life - living mainly on, mandioc flour. Harvesting and preparing farinha this involved digging up cassava, grating, pressing and rousting it. Happily this proved that I could get along well in the hot humid, equatorial climate of the Amazon.

Culture Shock

Prospective CIMI missionaries have to follow a year of intensive courses on anthropology, missiology, history of evangelization among the indigenous people, and the government politics regarding native peoples, especially the demarcation of their traditional lands. This theoretical input is complemented with exposure in an indian village. Thus, one is confronted with the inevitable cultural shock and the isolation, with its consequent emotional impact. Ii passed the screening norms of CIMI. For me another GREEN GO – signal.

Rejection

For a number of historical reasons, the only Indian nation open to CIMI missionaries in Maraba (where ICM had two communities was the Suruis. Even the, I was well aware that a lot of difficulties had to be surmounted, several employees of FUNAI and lay missionaries of CIMI before me had been rejected by this same nation. So, without faith and trust in Him throughout this process, I guess I would never have dared to enter ‘where angels fear to tread.’

Tension Between Government and Church

Because others had been rejected, I had to ask the whole Suri community whether I could live and work among them, only then could I present myself to the Regional Director of FUNAI to inform him that I had been accepted by the Suruis. His response summarizes the tense relationship between this government agency and the missionaries of the Church: “You are ther because the Indians want it and not because I will it. Let us be clear about that!”

Are You Not Afraid?

The new young cacique (chief) offered me the hot of his sister and brother – in- law. The young couple had just converted a kitchen into a house so as to live near the house of the father- in law. In many Indian nations young families tend to group around the paternal house. My hit was no different from the hits in the village; it was made of palm leaves, split trunks of paxiba saplings, with the beaten earth as flooring and three stones on the ground as my stove.

Wariness no Surprise

It was no surprise to me when I experienced their mistrust and wariness. After all, had they not suffered at the hands of the ‘whites’ who used subtle tricks, and sometimes outright brutality, to lay hands on their god: the gold of the Indians? After only a month I could see that there were still traders who paid for the harvest of Brazilian nuts and cupuacu (an exotic regional fruit) with cheap clothes. They were also quite aware that Christian consider them, the indigenous people, as savages wild and lazy. In fact the typical reaction of non-Indians of the region when informed that I was going to live among the Aikewars was: “Are you not afraid?”

No Way to Light a Fire

Slowly they realized that I was there to learn their ways, and that all I wanted was to be one of them. Cautiously they invited me to their daily activities and taught me how to manage and survive among them. “That’s no way to light a fire nor to fan the embers,” Saive said, she proceeded to give me my first lessons.
“Do you see that tree over there, Kumarakuso (white woman)? Well up on that thick branch is a honeycomb.” How Wawai knew that was beyond me. She also taught me how to find and dig out sweet potatoes.

They soon discovered that I was fond of fish. So the young boys, and sometimes the women, would call me to go fishing. Teapi and Arawi were proud to show me where to find rotten babacu nuts and break these open to pick out the white larva inside, which serve as bait. The boys gave loud guffaws when my line got all tangled up. The women had fun watching my awkward way of washing of my clothes and bathing myself in the stream and often would burst out in laughter.

Acceptance

Gradually I saw signs that I was being accepted and that I was winning ther confidence: “Kariru! Where’s your coffee! “Old Warini is my first ‘morning’ customer’. After him comes a steady stream of ‘coffee sippers’. Kariru” is a name they adopted for me.

The Tapir

“Malissa, here is a piece of tapir meat my father sent you” Two-year-old Ariru hands me the meat. He makes it a point to run this errand for his father, knowing that there would be coolies for him. After some time I must say that I had my steady supply of meat and firewood. Generally the meat from the hunt is divided among the families when the animal is big enough, if not only, relatives or persons who have done a favor receive a piece. 
Slowly they realized that I was there to learn their ways I learn and that in order to learn I would need to be one of them. The words of John Taylor came to mind:

Tread Gently

“Our first task in approaching another people, another culture, another religion is to take off our shoes, for the place we are approaching is holy. Else, we may find ourselves treading on their dreams. More serious still, we may forget that God was there before out arrival.” (The Primal Vision John V. Taylor)

Only after some time does one learn to dance to His rhythm.

Till the 1980, the government ideology was: IT IS THE DESTINY OF THE NATIVES TO DISAPEAR.