The Cariri or Kariri travelled on foot across the stony plateau which dominates the southern part of Ceará. They found themselves on the run from the European immigrants at the end of the 17th century. The Dutch had taken over large parts of the sertão from the Portuguese and resolved to explore the vast hinterland – and so were the first to come into contact with them. After the Portuguese recaptured the area in 1683, they began to exterminate indigenous groups in the “Barbarians’ War”. The objective here was to use these agriculturally valuable areas for cattle breeding. The various tribes formed an alliance: the Confederação dos Cariri. After 30 years of persecution and war, the last Indios were overwhelmed and enslaved. Only their name has endured, as well as a cultural center in Nova Olinda bearing their name, and a few inhabitants who still bear physiognomic characteristics of the indigenous population.
Today, intercity buses drive the 900 kilometers several times per day from Salvador de Bahia to Nova Olinda, the capital city of the district which bears the same name. Fifteen hours through three federal states on narrow, two-lane country roads. The heat forces bus travelers to ride with open windows past herds of cattle, mesas and stocky vegetation in the northeast of Brazil. The bus stops every three hours for 20 minutes at a one-story, flat-roof functional building. Sometimes there is a parking place, but not always. But there is a small restaurant, a souvenir shop and a washroom. The unchanging yellowish-brown landscape with only a few dabs of green here and there, the repetitive stopping and the loud engine noises make the monotonous 15-hour bus ride seem more like three days.
Nova Olinda – a small town cut in half by an avenue filled with potholes: the Avenida Perimetral Sul (CE 292). 200 meters along the city center, concrete street lights illuminate the sidewalk green and yellow in 1950s style. A crumbling wall separates a small square with green benches from the Avenida. On the street, the roaring trucks and the shared taxis swirl the dust, making it difficult for pedestrians to breathe.
Denise is in her mid-fifties and volunteers at the Casa Grande cultural center – the only historical building in the city. Her ancestors are descended from the Indios. Her two children Samuel and Samara no longer live at home, so she rents out her back room to guests of the Casa Grande. Her husband Chico works in the brick factory, one of the few industrial employers in the city. Denise organizes the afternoon program for the elementary students in the center’s yard. She is in charge of the city’s small museum in the front two rooms and also runs the canteen in the cultural center. Her small hands move quickly when she speaks. Enthusiastically she shows her visitors the history of the Indios and the major landowners in the region. She speaks about the last stand of the natives, their survival in the arid, hostile environment and their enslavement by the Portuguese proprietors. In these stories her great-grandmother plays a central role. She lived in the Caatinga; because of her great beauty, she was kidnapped and raped by the son of a major landowner. This was a fate shared by many Indio women in the remote and lawless hinterland of Brazil. The captains (and their armed bands) employed by the governors still ruled here until the middle of the 20th century. However, Denise also talks about the wonderful view from the cliff in Santana do Cariri as well as the historical city of Assaré, only a few kilometers from Nova Olinda, in which the most famous poet of the sertão was born: “Patativa”.
Antônio Gonçalves da Silva – Patativa – was of short stature. Towards the end of his life he was completely blind and very fond of sitting on a chair in front of his house – located at the “Basilica Square” in Assaré – wearing sunglasses and a black hat, chatting with the passers-by. He had taught himself poetry, and since he was illiterate, he would recite all of his poems from memory. The sertão poet was born in 1909 as one of many children of a small-scale farming family into the oral culture of the hinterland. He got the nickname “Patativa” in the 1930s from the marketplace at the nearby town of Crato: patativa-do-sertão (Sporophila falcirostris, Graupfäffchen) is a small, gray songbird from the Thraupidae family, loved by all in the sertão because of its singing. Antônio’s public displays of poetry at the marketplace quickly earned him a widespread reputation as Patativa do Assaré. Not only did he challenge politicians by denouncing social grievances, he also made sure not to forget to engage ecclesiastical dignitaries. His poem “Cante Lá Que Eu Canto Cá” (you sing there, I sing here) became a symbol of the resistance during the military dictatorship. The poetry of the “Matuto” (backwoodsman) which he established was put to music by many famous musicians. His poem “Triste Partida” (the sad departure) became the hymn of the sertão through many musical adaptations.
The Patativa do Assaré Memorial can be found in a two-story house at the church square in Assaré, presenting various memorabilia of the dead poet in glass cabinets: some sunglasses from the sixties, an old black hat and a walking stick as well as first editions of his books and photographs taken with mayors and famous Brazilian musicians. Adriana Brasil de Alencar (27) works at reception there and studies economics in Crato.
She is temporarily living in Assaré with her cousin Islandia at her aunt’s (one of many) and works at the memorial in order to finance her studies. Adriana was born in Baixio Grande (large depression), a small settlement of about 20 small-scale farming families about 20 kilometers outside of Assaré. There is only a winding slope of red dirt that leads to Baixio; public transportation is kept alive with overcrowded pickup trucks, which can fit about ten to twelve people with their shopping packed in cardboard boxes and plastic bags. The tires kick up yellow-red dust in the dry street, forcing car passengers to protect their faces with towels, hands or t-shirts. The farm belonging to Adriana’s parents, Selma (57) and Alcacio (62), is situated directly beside this earthy street. The right part consists of two bedrooms, an open kitchen which was built on, and a living room / dining room. The harvest is stored in the left half. Corn, rice and black beans. If it has rained enough, everything will last the family one year, and a little additional profit can be made at the market in Assaré. The Brasil de Alencar family owns about 30 sheep and 40 cattle. Five dairy cows and their calves are housed in a corral opposite the house.
Adriana and her older sister Adelia are among the few that study at the university. For years they have steered the community towards modern, sustainable cultivation methods and techniques. They founded an artisan collective for the women (Associação das Artesãs de Palha de Milho do sítio Baixio Grande). In 2007 they were able to buy 211 hectares of land from of the owner of their valley – a distant uncle of the family. Six families founded a collective here under the name Associação Assentamento Irmãos Brasil and financed their purchase through a state-funded credit program. Adriana, 22 years old at the time, became president of the collective. The families decided to practice only organic farming and sold parts of their acquired land to other landless families in the valley.
Adriana can still very well remember the days when they lived as tenants on their uncle’s land. Until 1999 there was no electricity or running water in the valley. The valley only saw cars and trucks during the harvest, they were needed for transport. The family owned a horse, which helped with transportation, but most of the time they simply walked. It took one and a half hours to get to school. In addition, she and her sister had to bring home forty liters of water every day – on their heads. Her brothers helped her father on the fields and so hardly ever went to school. Only cotton and rice was planted. Both monocultures depleted the soil and the arrival of the cotton bollworm (most likely from the USA) put an abrupt end to all cotton production. Their only electrical appliance was a small black-and-white television powered by a car battery. Once per week the men would ride 30 kilometers to have the battery charged. That was the only way to watch the Sunday soccer matches. On the day that the electricity was hooked up to their house, Adriana – all by herself – installed a water pump in the well in order to have running water in the house. Adelia threw away the old petroleum lamps which she had had to use in the morning for studying.
They are both conscious of the fact that the positive developments in Baixio Grande and the neighboring communities are very fragile. The global climate crisis changes the intervals between the dry and rainy periods in the sertão. Water management is becoming more and more important for the small farmers in the region as well – a drought of several years would bring many families to the limits of their existence.
