Ethno-Tourism and Indigenous Communities in Costa Rica

So often tourism and an intrusion of outside influences have worked against indigenous peoples. They have been exploited as exotic savages, with explorers searching them out on expeditions to tell of their strange encounters. Stemming from this, indigenous peoples have altered their own cultures, playing into these stereotypes for the monetary benefits that tourism brings. From colorful turbaned gypsies in India, the Sichuanese putting on the attire of Tibetan nomads, and the Cuna parading their naked children dancing in the streets, people have found dollar signs where tourists seek culture.

A shell of tradition, a costume, a craft, a dance becomes bastardized, losing the intricate internal meaning and bowing down only for almighty money. A beaded necklace that once took weeks to fashion and years of skill to learn, is sloppily thrown together and sold for half the price at sub-par quality. A song that once described the universe is now forgotten, and only unintelligible humming is uttered for money on the street corner. All too much, the beautiful diversities of humanity have succumbed to this plague of tourism.

(Photo of indigenous mask artisan)

In Costa Rica, however, a very interesting movement in the indigenous communities is being developed and tested. They are using tourism as a way to revitalize and preserve their cultures.

I walked into the Namu gallery in San Jose, and my senses were blasted from all sides with vibrant colors and eccentric shapes. Every corner of the store displays baskets, masks, paintings, jewelry, textiles and all crafts imaginable made by the indigenous peoples of Costa Rica. The store is almost alive as these creatures crawl over the walls. It is so overflowed with such beautiful cultural works that I can hardly believe that less than 2% of the Costa Rican population is recognized as indigenous. Yet it is because of this colorful artesania that the indigenous people are finding a guiding light.

The Namu gallery was founded in San Jose almost a decade ago by an idealistic youth anxious to display the rich indigenous cultures of Costa Rica. At that time indigenous communities were hardly acknowledged and mostly unknown to the outside world. Conall French, after spending time volunteering with various tribes in the country, realized the need for these cultures to be rescued from extinction. The brightly painted masks, intricately woven baskets, and exquisitely designed handicrafts appeared to be just the eye-catching ticket to aid in the struggle.

As a family run effort, the Frenches now showcase work from all 8 tribes of Costa Rica in their fair-trade gallery. For the craftsmen this gives them an opportunity to sell their creations to a broader market for a better price than what they might earn selling locally on the side of the highway. The earnings are split 50/50 between the artisan and the shop, and the work is shown to international buyers. Some of the artists have even been able to solely rely on their crafts for income.

The Boruca masks are a very prime example of how tourism and Namu has affected the traditional culture. Originally these people carved wooden masks with demonic faces to be worn in the dance of the “diablitos.” They have now branched out in their craftsmanship. They have developed an “ecological” mask, which mixes the traditional style of iconology but now also portrays a medley of flora and fauna from the local region. The new mask forms express an indigenous cosmovision depicting an interconnectedness with nature. Because the diablitos masks were so popular the artists have been able to creatively expand and refine their skills.

A decade ago the mask-makers were mostly elders, and the tradition appeared to be in danger of survival. As the masks became more marketable to the tourists, the younger generations found importance, and a majority of the craftsmen are now young men. The involvement of these younger generations and pride in one’s traditional customs is integral for the continuation of cultural heritage.

In the Bribri reserve of the Talamanca region in southern Costa Rica, community efforts are striving to develop a system of sustainable tourism. The Finca Educativa is a network of 17 organizations of community, grass-roots tourism. It is used as a coordination base due to its close proximity to the outside and its access to phone, internet, and fax services. The Finca Educativa was formed to promote a kind of eco-ethnotourism. This is tourism that focuses on learning about ethnic groups and culture and also includes learning about environmental issues while communing with nature.

The Finca Educativa is very particular about the type of tourism that they allow into the community. The amount of tourists admitted must be ecologically sustainable for their area. They do not permit the tour companies from outside to bring in groups that may be culturally insensitive, such as the tourists coming in from the cruise ships in Limon. All guides must be local, and they prefer to take tourists in small eager-to-learn groups, rather than individuals. The Bribri do not want their towns to become a product of tourism, like so many other have, devoted to consumerism, partying, wiping out local traditions, foreign owned businesses, and an artificial “gringo” atmosphere.

In the indigenous pueblo of Watsi community members lead tours through the village to exhibit the way they live, how they farm, and how they make traditional crafts. Often other cultural events such as dances and storytelling are featured. The organization aims to include all members in the community from the youngest to the oldest. They believe that the more the wealth is spread the more of an aiding factor it will be. A theater group of children and teens has been created using the theory of indigenous theater developed by Pablo Presbere. Through theater arts they are portraying their indigenous culture with use of folktales, plays, and dances. The oldest person of the community of the ripe age of 107 is the grandfather and great-grandfather of a majority of the town’s population. He is often the leader of the traditional “Dance of the Vulture” as well as a storyteller during tours.

A major part of the Finca Educativa initiative is the women’s group ACOMUITA. This is a cooperative of 71 indigenous females started 19 years ago by Maria Lopez. Passed from her grandmother and founder of the community, Adela, she was instilled with the importance of continuing their cultural heritage. In the Bribri belief the indigenous bloodline is handed down by the mother and inherited by the girl-children. The females have supreme power over the family and household. In lieu of this, ACOMUITA was formed for helping community development by the traditional leaders, women. The women are usually enthusiastic about being a member of ACOMUITA because they can earn extra money to help their families and send their children to school while feeling empowered.

They have many projects already established and in the making for sustainable tourism development while preserving cultural values. One of the most elaborate projects is the making of organic chocolate. Cacao is a sacred plant chosen by the almighty deity Sibu to make human, and therefore, it is believed to be a representation of the mother of people. Traditionally the indigenous have grown cacao and made chocolate candy and drinks. Yet, the custom was failing due to lack of interest and a devastation of cacao plants caused by the Monilia fungus beginning in 1978.

In 2003 Maria Lopez and the other women initiated the chocolate project through ACOMUITA to revitalize it. They are establishing themselves as organic chocolate producers, farming the fruit and cooking the chocolate. So far, 25 locally involved farms have been certified as organic by the APTA. Tourists come to watch the chocolate making process and sample the delectable treats. It is also sold in nearby towns such as Cahuita and Puerto Viejo, and at other markets throughout the country. Their efforts are keeping tradition alive throughout the community as well as producing ways to gain a much needed income.

Quitirrisi is home to another indigenous community, the Huetar, whom are using tourism as a tool for revitalization to bring back their lost culture. Don Sanchez has started an agenda of tourism based on education and sharing of cultural experiences. Most of the tourists visiting his organization are school children or educational programs.

He showcases many traditions, such as the native style of building houses, an ancestor alter and a sacred corner placed in the farm. There is even a museum of Huetar archaeology of artifacts that he has collected from the region. Don Sanchez gives lectures on the indigenous cosmovision and the history of his people. Finally, he hosts a traditional sweatlodge in which his guests may participate in the sacred ceremony.

Although the Huetar people were once thought to be the largest indigenous group in Costa Rica, their population has dwindled and their culture has followed in the decline. Don Sanchez was raised in the indigenous community of Quitirrisi, but much about his own culture he has learned secondhand through books. Over the passing of time the Huetares has lost their language, customs and belief system. Don Sanchez is desperately struggling to rejuvenate his heritage before it is lost forever.

Tourism is a very weighty force in determining the fate of indigenous peoples. It has the power to destroy or the power to build. If it is regulated properly, it may be used as a significant tool to preserve culture. It must be, however, undertaken by the indigenous communities themselves in a sustainable manner. When this occurs it can be cultivated as a positive cultural exchange in which tourists are happy yet educated, and the indigenous societies may preserve tradition while breaking chains of poverty instilled by the first world.

Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala

Santiago Atitlan is amazing. Stepping off the boat, I felt as if I was entering Guatemala for the first time. An indigenous school girl hoisted me and my heavy backpack off the rocking boat and onto the slick dock. This area is over 50% indigenous, and is still thriving with culture. All of the women here wear their traditional trajes, woven skirts with thick woven or beaded belts and poncho like blouse embroidered with flowers and birds. Many of the men even wear the traje here, which I haven’t seen in Antigua. The men’s traje is a little more simple, with stripped, pajama like shorts and a sash.

(A photo of an indigenous boat man in Lago Atitlan)

Getting off the boat there are the typical runners and taxi drivers. One indigenous man wearing purple shorts seems to be the head honcho of them all. He asked us if we wanted everything in the books; cheap hostel, restaurants, crafts, good prices, marijuana, everything. Wade and I ran away.

The main street is riddled with tourist shops selling beautiful, hand-made indigenous arts and crafts. It is eye candy. Bright colors, exotic shapes, woven clothing, leather hats, stone sculptures, oil paintings of the volcanoes and the lake, and shiny beaded jewelry. It all sits next to the street tempting tourists with the enticing brilliance and low prices. The women sit in their stalls with gold teethed grins, embroidering p’ots, and beckoning the passer-buyer.

Even my ears were overloaded by the town. Here they do not speak Spanish as their first language. The first language is a Mayan dialect. It has thick, harsh sounds, like snarls and spitting strung together in a clacking rhythm. I was amazed even that many people do not even speak Spanish. A few attempts at conversation with the indigenous women and I learned that, because they did not have formal education, only spoke their native tongue. I love hearing new languages.

(A photo of an indigenous Mayan women selling jewelry and beaded necklaces in Santiago, Guatemala)

People in this village are extremely friendly. Every little old lady and wrinkled old man is brimming with toothless smiles. The women are a bit too shy to say, “Buenos Dias,” but they always offer a timid smile. The shyness only makes them seem more appealing and affable. Maybe they don’t speak because they are always carrying huge baskets or bags on top of their heads. Maybe speaking will make them fall off. I really do not know how they can balance such huge loads on their heads in the first place. It has so affected their walk that they glide so smoothly along the pavement that you hardly even see them lift their feet.

I like this pueblo, and I am glad to finally be finding the richness of Guatemala.

(Photo of the street and indigenous women in Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala)