Kuruaya had never seen a dredger operating in this area of Xipaia, let alone a huge one. it looked like a floating factory. Kuruaya, 47, got on the barge, boarded it and confronted the gold miners. They responded in harsh voices and he retreated fearing that they were armed. But he was the same – with a phone – the first he ever had. Back in Karimaa village, Thaylewa Xipaia’s son sent photos of the mining boat to the tribe’s WhatsApp chat groups. “Guys, this is urgent!” he told other members of his tribe in an audio message reviewed by the Associated Press. “There is a barge here on Pigeons Island. It is huge and destroys the whole island. “My father just went there and they almost took his phone.” On a journey several days away, to the nearest town of Altamira, Kuruaya’s daughter, Juma Xipaya, received the frantic messages. She recorded her own video with a choked voice and wet eyes, warning of an impending clash – and then uploaded it to social media. Within a few hours, the news became known to the world. The episode depicts the advancement of the Internet in vast, remote areas of rainforest that, until recently, had no means of rapidly exchanging visuals on environmental crime. A rapidly expanding network of antennas enables indigenous groups to use telephones, camcorders and social media to mobilize the public and pressure authorities to respond quickly to threats from gold miners, robbers and loggers. Until now, indigenous communities have relied on radio to broadcast their emergency calls. Environmental and indigenous rights organizations then spread them to the media and the public. But the nonprofits have been maligned by far-right Brazilian President Zaire Bolsonaro, who advocates legalizing mining and leasing land in indigenous protected areas. He blamed the organizations as unreliable agents, who have no contact with the true desires of the indigenous peoples and in the payroll of global environmental acts. Videos and photos taken directly from indigenous peoples are more difficult to reject and this forces the authorities as well as the public to appreciate the reality on the spot. “When used properly, technology helps a lot in real-time monitoring and reporting,” said Nara Barre, head of the Coordination Team of Brazil’s Indigenous Organizations, in a telephone interview. “External pressure to force the federal government to act in the Xipaia region has been significant. “Technology was the main tool for that.” Connectivity is not just about complaining on social media. The Brazilian Federal Prosecutor’s Office has set up a website to record the reported crimes and download the uploaded visual material. In the past, people in remote communities had to make the long and expensive trip to the nearest town that has a federal prosecutor’s office. Xipaia is part of a pristine rainforest area known as Terra do Meio (Middle-earth) that is dotted with dozens of indigenous and traditional river communities. Internet connection there was rare until mid-2020, when a team of nonprofits, including Health in Harmony and the Social-Environmental Institute, funded the installation of 17 antennas across the vast area. Priority was given to communities with health centers or shopping malls for the production and sale of forest products, such as Brazil nuts. The signal can be painfully slow, especially on rainy days, but it has connected people who were previously offline and it is enough to get photos and videos out of the forest. “The strategy was to improve communication and avoid unnecessary travel in the city,” said Marcelo Salazar, coordinator of the Health in Harmony program in Brazil. “The Internet facilitates health, education and forestry.” Fighting environmental crime was an added benefit, he added. Four in the five Xipaia communities are now connected. Karimaa, the village where the barge was first located, has had Internet since July 2020. Just three days after the installation, when a teenager injured his head, a town doctor was able to assess his condition using photos sent. via WhatsApp. This avoided a costly, complicated medevac during the COVID-19 pandemic. But the case of mining dredging marked the first time the Xipaia used the Internet to protect their territory. In addition to the alarm, four villages used WhatsApp to quickly organize a warrior party to confront the miners. Painted with uruku, a local fruit that produces red ink, and armed with bows, arrows and shotguns, they were crammed into a small boat, according to Juma Xipaia. However, when they reached the place where the barge was, it was gone. This effort produced the documentary “The Territory”, which won awards at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, the Copenhagen International Documentary Festival and more. Throughout its production, American director Alex Pritz relied on WhatsApp to communicate with newly trained camera operators. Tangaãi Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau is a cameraman teacher who traveled to the Danish festival and later spoke to the AP via WhatsApp from his remote village. He said the film changes people’s perceptions of the natives of Brazil. “I received many questions in Copenhagen. “They knew about the natural wonders of Brazil, but they did not know about the indigenous peoples fighting for their lands.” Bolsonaro’s repeated promises to legalize mining and other indigenous activities have fueled invasions of lands that are often forest islands between extensive farms. Indigenous and environmental groups estimate that there are approximately 20,000 illegal miners in the Yanomami area, which is about the size of Portugal. The Bolsonaro government claims that there are 3,500. The communications ministry, however, says the talks have not progressed and no progress has been made. Musk’s company, SpaceX, did not respond to requests for comment. In the state of Roraima, where most of Yanomami is located, the AP contacted an Internet service provider that offers wifi to an illegal gold mine for $ 2,600, plus $ 690 a month. Smuggled small boats throw the equipment for installation. “It’s a double-edged sword,” said Salazar of Health in Harmony, referring to increased connectivity. But for Juma Xipaia, the new connection means extra protection and visibility for its people. After posting her tearful video, it garnered screenings and was captured by local and international media. Within two days, an airborne operation involving the Federal Police, the National Guard and the environmental services entered. They located the dredging hidden behind the vegetation on the banks of the Iriri River with seven miners. “After many calls for help, I decided to make the video. Then it worked. “The phone did not stop ringing,” Juma Xipaya said by telephone. “It was very fast after the video.” —- The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage is supported by many private institutions. See more about the AP Climate Initiative here. The AP is solely responsible for all content.
