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A Look at Brazil's Interior

Charles A. Thomas

Brazil is more than half of South America, they say. And thus by necessity it is defined in hyperbole. In the world, Brazil is the fifth largest country in both area and population. So Paulo is the fourth most populous city on Earth. Brazil contains the largest river by volume (the Amazon's discharge is five times that of the next largest river by volume, the Congo), and the largest remaining rainforest, for now. Consequentially, Brazil has the highest number of vertebrate and invertebrate species, the most primate species, and the most freshwater fish species of any country on the planet. In fact, one out of every three species in the world calls Brazil its home. And so for all of these reasons, I eagerly awaited the day of departure.

But I wasn't going to party in Rio or try "favela-tourism" in So Paulo. The purpose was not to spend afternoons sun-bathing on a beach in Salvador or to ogle at the Amazon in Manaus. And I wasn't going to sell faith door to door in the urban horrors of Belo Horizonte or Recife, as so many southern American evangelicals seem to do.

My destination was a remote cattle ranch in the state of Mato Grosso, in central Brazil. Within two days I was on a metal canoe fitted with an ancient outboard, slicing through a minor tributary near the Xingu River, about halfway to the ranch. During the dry season there are few flying insects to speak of, and with the sun going down, the breeze caused by the movement of the boat, and the wall of green flanking the silvery river, it was difficult not to smile, down in the Amazon basin, completely isolated. A rabble of yellow butterflies floated by, a Collared Aracari flew overhead, followed by others, and then something bubbled out from under the water. A geyser erupted, a gasp like a person drowning, and then a face appeared: a river dolphin. In fact there were three within a stone's throw, and I watched them swim and hunt until the sun's last rays peaked over the horizon of the river bend.

The next day I arrived at the ranch. The operation requires constant labor, and so, there are a number of cowboys, as well as a general staff who raise chickens, tend to the garden, fix machinery, and so on. Each cattle ranch, fazenda in Portuguese, is a self-sufficient society. When I wandered down to the corral, hundreds of cattle were waiting for their check-ups. The procedure that day, palpation, requires a human arm inside each one's body cavity to check for pregnancy.

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