Shuar and Cofan

Stories of the Share and the Cofan

As two of the most populous and integrated tribes in the Ecuador Amazonia region, the Shuar and Cofan represent, better than most, the critical juncture indigenous tribes face all over the world. Being very integrated into modern society but not wanting to let go of their heritage, are counting on tourism and photography to help their customs and traditions survive at a time when the whole world only wants to assimilate and homogenise. Plagued by oil spills, natural disasters and the inexorable rate of progress and intrusion into their habitat, the Shuar and Cofan are, in their clumsy way, asking for our help.

Following my first trip to Ecuador and the publication of the images resulting from that trip, Ecuador’s tribal council got in touch and asked if I would be willing to travel back to Ecuador and start documenting some of the other tribes there. Took a lot of back and forth (mostly to get them to understand that I am not like other tourist photographers and that I need time to spend with the tribe and the people before I actually craft images), but around October we agreed this trip would focus on the Shuar and the Cofan tribes and I would spend 3 full days with each tribe. The government would provide facilitation and even cover the cost of my local fixer (another thing I insisted on to ensure I would still work with someone who knows my method as this would massively speed up everything). They also claimed they would get me in touch with really representative communities, something which ended up not going very well. But, let me explain.

Working with a south American government entity is not fun - they refuse to speak anything other than Spanish, effectively forcing you to (a) use Google Translate constantly and (b) hope and pray the translation, both of what they were saying and what you are replying, is correct. Trust me, I was half expecting things to go awry from that alone. Also, they have this tendency to avoid email! WhatsUp is the king here and, even more, they love voice messages so, they would record 10 messages of 4’ each, in rapid fire Spanish and then you had to figure it out. The only saving grace was that they did not insist on a signed contract as this would have made things 10 times more complicated.Second hurdle was to communicate and explain the difference between other photographers and my approach. You see, while the really liked my images, they did not understand that to create those images a lot of planning was needed, location scouting and, ultimately, lights (and modifiers) were used. Their expectation was that I would be like all the other photographers they had probably seen: walk around, snap-snap-snap, pose people here and there, finish quickly and move on. I think it took me almost two weeks to convey the message and get this agreed between us. I have to say, they did seem impressed at the end, especially when I produced a lookbook, sketches and explained the approach using documents.

Third was about locations, communities and team. I struggled to explain that a tourist-focused community right next to a major town/city would simply not do - what I needed (if I were to do a good job) was as an authentic experience as possible which meant people living as naturally as possible, as far away from civilisation as possible. Of course, their concern was mainly financial - after all, more complexity means more days, more staff, more money - but after almost 2 months of negotiations, we got there. I didn’t get my really remote locations, but at least I convinced them against the tourist-oriented ones. And it made a difference - read below to see the differences. We also needed to agree on the team - they kept insisting that either a police or military escort (or, as was their fallback position, someone from the ministry) would be enough while I actually needed someone to help, not just to sit back and observe. Trust me when I say, those were not easy or happy days, but we got there in the end.So, let me describe both parts of the project:

The ShuarWe visited two different Shuar communities - one relatively close to a modest-sized town, called “Buena Esperanza” (about 45’ to 1hr from the closest town) and the other close to the Kinthia Panti waterfalls, significantly further away (around 3-4hrs or so).The first one ended up being a disappointment as the community is neither lively nor remotely traditional, and they have set up a “tourist” village around 1km away, on the river, to accommodate tourists, while the other one - well, let’s just say it more than made up for the first one!Now, don’t get me wrong - the first place was absolutely beautiful: On the river, mostly tree-covered, with loads of flowers and plants and with a beautiful mist hanging around the trees in the morning. That was not the problem - in fact, if anything, the moment I was able to sit on a log, at 5:30am, and enjoy the silence watching the sun rise was among my best travel moments in years. The problem with Buena Esperanza was that we were the only ones there (which normally is a good thing!) and as a result the community, despite being notified by the government fixers, simply did not bother. We got access to the community leader, Daniel, his two daughters, his son and two grandchildren. That was it - not the authentic experience I was hoping for but hey, sometimes this is what you get when the government organises things for you. Don't get me wrong - I'm almost certain that IF we were a group of 15, the community would have organised more people etc., but this is exactly why I say it was a bit disappointing.They were absolutely welcoming and lovely, even happy to work with us, and yet the whole thing felt…well, it felt “less”. It felt like those tourist affairs I absolutely hate! We ended up spending only about a day with them for this exact reason - during the first afternoon we shot everything we could shoot, the following morning we did some additional catch up and that was it.

Sad as it may sound, there are only so many things you can do with 4 people without running into repetitions and frankly, the place itself was rather limited - designed as it was with the various “photo tours” in mind where photographers neither care nor are able to consume anything more than what the tribe has prepared for them. When we saw the situation we made the decision to quickly move on and luckily our fixers were able to scramble and adjust quickly.The second community however more than compensated for the shortcomings of the first - getting to the Kinthia Panti area was, I thought at first, tough, but that was only the beginning! Little did I know that after hours of travelling across rough terrain I had only gotten to the foot of the mountain where the sacred waterfall was! I mean, you get out of the car, stretch your legs, crack your back and then, the guide tells you to get ready to climb - not something you want to hear at 8am in the morning, let me tell you that. Anyway, climb we did - with all our gear, balancing over logs thrown over ravines, ducking under rock outcroppings and all the while swatting sandflies and mosquitoes while taking care not to slip in the mud. At a distance you can hear the road of the waterfall and you keep expecting to see it after every turn, but it takes a while to get up there - maybe if you’re one of those hiking freaks who run 10 miles every morning etc you can do it quickly, but carrying 50 kgs of gear and lights does not a light ascend make.But let me tell you this: once you arrive at the falls you forget everything - absolutely everything. The Kinthia Panti falls have everything a photographer could wish for - it’s almost like nature has created a studio for you: a modest 10-15m fall from a semi-circular rock structure onto a small pool with really nice rock structures all around. There’s a small beach with pebbles and coarse sand with another rock semicircle at the back. The photographic potential of this place is literally endless - I could have easily spend 2 days there shooting. As it was, we spent nearly a whole day, pausing every now and then to rest, speak with the tribe, laugh and enjoy the awesome place.

The shaman and leader of the Buena Esperanza community performing the rite of sun worship, something the Shuar used to do at the beginning of each lunar month

A group of Shuar warriors at the Kinthia Panti sacred waterfall. The tribe assembles at the waterfall twice a year for ceremonies and celebrations

We trekked to the much larger, Yantsua waterfall through an hour of mud track, to witness what the tribe call the Thunder God

We spent the morning meeting the people we would be photographing and I have to tell you, they were really, really nice - smiling and genuinely happy a photographer wanted to capture their sacred falls (most photographers stay down in the village, watch a dance performance, shoot a few portraits and within 2hrs move on) curious, interested, willing to be a part of the process and create something good. It was a great sign of a great collaborative effort ahead of us - something which translated into a wonderful relationship over the next two and a half days. Oh, and by the way, if they “trick” you into dancing with them, well, good luck. These guys and girls are devils and they dance like there’s no tomorrow…! It was awesome but what it showed me, more than anything, was how unfit and how old I am. Still, the day ended with hundreds of really good shots and with a few great friends!The pictures we created that day (and the next) are truly inspirational and, from what their elders (who did not want to be photographed) told us afterwards, this was the first time a photographer has shown the tribe as they see themselves and as their ancestors once were. I will never forget when one of their warriors hugged me fiercely and, almost with tears in his eyes, thanked me for portraying them as they really were. A moment I will never forget.

Next day we had to enlist the help of modern transportation which was fun - the next waterfall was even further away and even though, normally, the tribe would spend almost a day getting there on foot, this time we packed everyone into two vans and drove for about 3hrs (we left the village at 5am and arrived at the falls around 8am). And then we started - again - climbing. Oh, and before I forget, before we even begun to climb, we had to cross a small river with waist high freezing water and slippery rocks at the bottom. Much as this screamed National Geographic expedition and now, thinking about it, probably sounds like a lot of “fun”, at the moment, trying to balance a camera bag on your head while using a stick to steady yourself against the stream and the rocks was quite scary. I’m not sure how the crossing will be during the rainy season, but I would not like to try this hike then.However the falls were, if anything, even more impressive than the previous one: the Yantsua falls (the second along the famous “avenida de las cascadas” - waterfall avenue - which comprises of 6 sacred waterfalls) are truly awe inspiring. About 130-150m high crashing down on a cascade of massive boulders and then onto a small meandering river with half a dozen steps. There is a small path taking you behind the falls themselves, but the force of the water is so strong that going there means instant deluge - the definition of a camera unfriendly environment. When I first saw the place I came up - in my head - with dozens upon dozens of shots, but after a quick reconnaissance I had to scale back my dreams. While theoretically possible, quite a lot of the shots are really dangerous, not just for me but for the tribe members themselves - generally not ideal to kill or maim your subjects during a shoot..We only had between 3 and 4 hours here - the orientation of the falls means that in December the sun rises behind the falls and follows a near perfect trajectory meaning that from 12-1pm onwards the area will be drenched in blinding sunlight, so we got right on it. Luckily the tribe, following our collaborative work the day before, knew what we were going to do so everything was easier, quicker and simpler.

What made things trickier was the spray - every single surface was covered in fine spray and moss, meaning that you either stepped on mud or on something insanely slippery. I don’t think I have ever shot on a trickier terrain and this includes Siberia, the Niger river, the middle of the Amazon on a canoe and many more. We had to be conscious not only of where we stepped on, but even the slightest adjustment was fraught with danger and risk.We also had to constantly (and I do mean every 3-4 shots) wipe the front of the lens and shake the soft box to remove the water. Rain cover went over the flash unit and we essentially hoped that water would not learn how to undo zippers or travel upwards as that would mean everything we carried was at risk - as it stood, we climbed down from the falls completely drenched.But the images - oh, I don’t think I’ve shot such grand scale images before. But what made those images were the people - Shiram, Elias, Suanua, Nunkui, Kisar,Yanua, Ipiak, Panki, Etsa and Juanito! Incredible spirits and a willingness to try everything! What I really loved was how much they loved seeing the images at the back of the camera and their excited chatter afterwards!

As an afterthought, it was really “strange” to meet the Shuar and photograph them in such primitive and original environments. Of all the Ecuadorian - and possibly the entire Amazonia region - tribes, the Shuar are by far the most integrated in modern society while at the same time retaining their original identity. There is a Shuar-only army regiment led by Shuar captains (and apparently its one of the most decorated and bravest regiments!) and Shuar representation in parliament. The Shuar either lead or are in the majority of the governments in all Shuar-majority areas, towns and villages creating, in effect if not in administrative terms, a near-autonomous state. The balance adopted and maintained by the Shuar in the last century has been repeatedly mentioned as a model of how indigenous populations can integrate with more modern society without losing their identity or betraying their values. It’s not without it’s problems, for sure, but it seems to work - only the future will tell.Therefore in retrospect, I probably should have asked to photograph some of the politicians in their "natural" environment, an office in Quito, with a suit or something - to document and show the duality and how the two do not necessarily represent a conflict.The CofanMeeting the Cofan was a completely different experience for two reasons: geographically, the Cofan are spread over a much wider area and are fractured much more than other tribes, with more than half-a-dozen subgroups with their own dialects and customs, but also because they, more than almost all other tribes have suffered from the expansion of the petroleum companies, having gone through not one but five distinct disastrous oil spills in their part of the river forcing various communities to relocate with massive impacts to their lives.

It was one of these communities we visited. The community used to live in a really traditional, wood huts and palm tree covered village about 3kms north of where they live now until, in 2015, a massive oil spill not only completely destroyed their part of the river, polluting the shore and the earth as far inland as 1.5kms on either side, destroying their crops and their livelihoods. Experts claimed that part of the river would not be inhabitable for more than 30 years! As compensation, the government with loads of petroleum company money, built an entire new village for the community, complete with really nice two level houses all built with traditional materials (bamboo, wood and mesh for the windows - really nicely done too), with stone-paved roads and plumbing, with a really nice school, a football field and even electricity. Each family was given a small house which, true to the culture, have already started painting in different colours.The new village is absolutely awesome - it even has 2-3 houses for guests - has a sort of a pier for canoes and is halfway between their old territory and the area reserved for their shaman (who traditionally has to live away from the main village).

The people seem to have adapted to the new environs, even though it means travelling every day to their fields - those still unpolluted - which means travelling about 2km upriver with their canoes every morning and back every afternoon. About a fourth of the men (and some women) were also offered jobs at the various petroleum companies in the nearby town and the high salaries have tempted a lot of them, even though it means more than 2hrs each way every day. It’s both interesting and sad seeing people returning to the village as the sun goes down, coming off canoes and walking to their houses, not unlike here in London where people come out of the tube and start their walk home.In the community we met Tsanda who would be our local contact and it was through my discussions with him that unveiled the reality for the Cofan these days. Tsanda coordinates with people in all other Cofan communities when it comes to visitors and his worries, his fears and uncertainties express what a lot of people also feel - fear that progress is erasing their way of life and they can do nothing to stop it. Fear that their attempts to share their culture - and thus maintain it - with visitors but then, when the visitors come, they do not stay or even care - they are there for a couple of hours, expect to witness an “authentic shaman ceremony”, but only as long as they can sit on comfortable benches, away from the sun, and the ceremony is over quickly (because the sandflies bite), snap a few pictures (read more on this below) and then leave. After spending a few days with him and his friends I fully understood his worries and promised myself I would never make this a part of my workshops.Over time, fewer and fewer tourist groups arrive with any real desire to learn about them, eager only to start their long trip to the Huaorani (which are promoted by many operators as the only “authentic” experience). The fear and uncertainty in Tsanda’s eyes - shared by many of the tribe members we met over the next two days - was almost palpable. His words “you are the first people who have stayed with us so long and have listened to us” still reverberate in my ears to this day.

Back to photography - I have to say the shaman ceremony itself was (is?) badly structured and conceived. Don Hector, their 76yr old shaman is a truly original individual who learned his art from his grandfather (and then apprenticed for 6 years with another shaman almost 3 days’ walk away) who learned it from his grandfather and so on for centuries. He lives far away from the village and getting to him is indeed tricky - it involves a canoe ride over a small river maelstrom and then a hike up really muddy slopes.Once you get you his compound (where he lives with his extended family) you then start another trek to the area where the ceremony is held - not a good idea to be honest. This area was cleared and prepared for tourists and looks, well, crap. It lacks originality and even visually is uninteresting and bland. However, for the interested and thoughtful photographer, less than 10m away there are corners of the jungle which present wonderful opportunities for good photography - which was what we did. Which talks to what I mentioned above and what Tsanda shared with us - originality and authenticity are often, more and more, sacrificed to the "altar" of providing basic conveniences to 2-hr visitors. Funnily enough, while talking with Tsanda, it turned out that a well known "photo tour" guide had visited the tribe the previous year and, let's just say, treated the tribe both condescendingly and mockingly, disguising it as friendliness... they hated it intently and hoped she would not visit again, but at the same time, they knew that should they come, the tribe would need to accept them.

Don Hector, the Cofan shaman leading the community with a kind, gentle and compassionate way, always with a smile in his face.

Romulo, one of the fiercest warriors I have met, extremely athletic but always ready to try anything, laugh - and with a great Instagram page!

We explained to Don Hector (who was wonderful by the way) that we were not tourists and we were there to truly experience, understand and document their way of life and, frankly, while the preparation of the infamous ayahuasca drink is indeed complex, the fact it requires over 48hrs does not translate well into images (or video). With his help we arrived at a sort of compromise - we would experience the first stages of the ayahuasca preparation but when it came to photography, we would focus on a cleansing ceremony instead. Don Hector was also extremely kind enough to allow us to take some portraits of him deeper into the jungle, laughing as we did it because “no tourist has ever asked this of me”.Over the next day and a half we worked with a group of the younger Cofan members to try and capture as much as we could of their culture as we possibly could, considering the inherent limitations of where we were. Luckily for us, Tsanda quickly caught on what we were trying to do and next day he walked us to a remote location deeper into the jungle, around a small lake which, according to the tribe, was where, in the older days, they would gather together to celebrate their three biggest annual events, with flowers thrown into the lake, dances and other events. But, for the purposes of what we were hoping to do, the jungle surrounding the lake was near perfect - more than anything, it shielded us from the intense sunlight which would blast the village from 6:30am onwards rendering almost all other areas completely useless.

The pictures we too in the jungle were interesting not because of the locations but because of the contrast the tribe would present against the lush vegetation. You see, from all the various Amazonian area tribes, the Cofan were among the first to fully incorporate clothing into their culture, as far back as the early 1600s. Due to the location of these communities and tribes - meaning low lands, close to rivers, along the equator - heat made clothing not just optional, but mostly avoided, unlike the Mayans, the Aztec and other tribes who used complex clothing much, much earlier. However, once the Cofan adopted clothing, they really went all in. They added bright colours nearly everywhere and the flashier the better - when silk arrived in Ecuador in the early 1700s from Spain, the Cofan were among the first to incorporate it and make it a part of their tribal attires, frequently combining different materials, colours and even designs, without really adhering to a single/specific design. For many, this was the beginning of the tribe’s culture dilution.Men, as expected, lagged severely behind, wearing, to this date, simple cotton shirts from cotton or a mixture of cotton and plant fibres dyed a dark blue using the juices of a small plant (which is, ironically, also used in the preparation of several medicinal potions and is also included in the ayahuasca!). For decoration the men “relied” on thin embroidery along the edge of the sleeves and at the hem of the shirts, but otherwise that was it. However both men and women adorn themselves extensively with necklaces made out of seeds and their pods, wood carvings, beads, feathers, teeth and horns from various animals and the men also wear elaborate crowns of feathers. Most of these trace their history to the ancient times and while most of the youngsters today do not know the precise significance of every design, they do know that these necklaces are family and tribal heirlooms which are passed through the generations.

OverallThe journey was absolutely enlightening - not solely for the photographic aspects, some of which I would heartily recommend to any travel photographer out there - but mostly because of the people. It’s truly incredible and touching meeting these people at a crucial crossroads in their history and, more importantly, one where we, as photographers, can actually, truly and very practically, help (and I'm not talking donations and foundations here - those rarely, if ever, make a real difference these days!).While I’m sure there are many cultures and people in the world who face similar dilemmas, the Huaorani and the Cofan, more than the Shuar, are right here - easily accessible and, essentially, begging for our help. Through my work with the Huaorani, two new NGOs and more than two dozen photographers have approached different companies asking to meet the tribes and take pictures like the ones I did (which is both humbling and funny at the same time) and more attention is being focused on those people - now we need to take this one step further, listen to them and share their stories. They deserve it and, in return for the pictures we take, honestly in those images and how we share their message is the least we can do!A final note on “photo tours”Google the term “Ecuador Tribal Tour” or “Photo tour ecuador” and you’ll come across dozens upon dozens of entries. All of them promise a guarantee of amazing photos (driven by equally casually taken photos with no real interest or connection with the people themselves), of unparalleled authentic experiences and much, much more.I would like to believe that these tours were crafted with the best of intentions - I really do - but having visited three different tribes now and the feedback from all of them is the same: an absolute condemnation of what we, as visitors (the feedback was not limited to photographers), are doing. We’re using them for a quick pad to our “portfolio”, to win competitions and “Likes” and we do this without ever saying anything about these people. Below are some excerpts from what the tribespeople have told me:“Tourists do not care about us at all - all they want is to claim they were here and they experienced the Amazon, nothing else. Most of them dont even bother learning our names!” (Cofan elder)“Photographers come here only to take pictures, never to tell our story. All these years, not a single one has ever shown us our pictures or written back to us” (Shuar girl)“Most people do not like photographer groups coming here - they are intrusive and rude, caring only about taking. When photographers come we feel like we’re in a zoo - and not in a good way” (Huaorani elder)I truly want to believe we can do better. No, the solution is not to stop the tours or the visitors or even the photographers from visiting the tribes - quite the contrary. The solution is far, far simpler and will result to the benefit of both the tour operators, the photographers and the tribes: when you organise a tour into the middle of the Amazonia region PLEASE do it in such way that your clients actually spend time with the people BEFORE they take a camera out and start shooting. Get the visitors to eat with the tribes, not separated. Involve them in the tribes’ daily activities - take them fishing or hiking in the forrest for a few hours in the middle of the rapid fire shooting sprees and PLEASE, find a way to send SOME of the images back to the tribes! It costs less than £10 to print 2 images at 40x30cm and send them to Ecuador - I know because I did it - and I think this is a pittance when you pay over £5000 per person (or even more - and that is without international flights by the way) for the tour itself.Imagine, just imagine, if 1 in 5 of us did that!!!! What a difference we would make.

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