Speaker 1: Continuing with our look back at some of our favorite
Speaker 1: episodes while we take a break between seasons. This week,
Speaker 1: we're going back to March twenty nineteen. In nineteen sixty nine,
Speaker 1: National geographic photographer Lauren McIntyre traveled deep into the Amazon
Speaker 1: in search of the fabled Mayaruna tribe, who was said
Speaker 1: to have no contact with the outside world. What happened
Speaker 1: next left him wondering for the rest of his life
Speaker 1: whether it had truly occurred or not. This is unexplained,
Speaker 1: Season four, Episode four all ways. Already it is nineteen
Speaker 1: eighty seven, a few miles from the mouth of the
Speaker 1: mighty Amazon River, as a light mist hangs over its
Speaker 1: muddy waters, A Holking six hundred passenger river cruiser is
Speaker 1: making its check journey toward the sea. Ensconced in one
Speaker 1: of its rudimentary cabins, three men no strangers to adventure,
Speaker 1: environmentalist Jean Michel Cousteau, writer Petru Popescu, and photographer Lauren
Speaker 1: McIntyre are enjoying each other's company. Together they trade tails
Speaker 1: and make toasts to some of the early European explorers
Speaker 1: who traveled those same waters many years before. In somewhat
Speaker 1: less comfortable conditions. Before long, as they gaze out at
Speaker 1: the inscrutable mass of thick jungle passing by, the men
Speaker 1: start to wonder about all the Indian tribes that still
Speaker 1: lived deep within it, whose existence might still remain unknown
Speaker 1: to the outside world. They begin to ruminate on how
Speaker 1: one might communicate with such a tribe, or how any
Speaker 1: two people, for that matter, could successfully communicate with no
Speaker 1: apat linguistic frames of reference. As Popescu and Cousteau debate
Speaker 1: the merits and possibilities of grunts and sign language, they
Speaker 1: stumble ultimately at the question of just how though, to
Speaker 1: convey more abstract thoughts. At this, Lauren McIntyre falls silent
Speaker 1: for a moment and takes a sip of wine. What
Speaker 1: if there was a way, he says, looking sheepishly at
Speaker 1: his two friends. A communication so direct no power could
Speaker 1: find words for it. As Popescu would later write, what
Speaker 1: followed was the telling of a story that McIntyre had
Speaker 1: never shared with anyone before, something even to that day
Speaker 1: he wasn't entirely sure had ever really happened. You're listening
Speaker 1: to Unexplained, and I'm Richard MacLean Smith. The plane banked
Speaker 1: suddenly to the right, following the path of the river,
Speaker 1: as the pilot Mercer kept his eye out for a
Speaker 1: good spot to land. In the back, Lauren McIntyre kept
Speaker 1: his eyes fixed on the jungle below, while up front
Speaker 1: in the passenger seat, Carlitos, the guide McIntyre had hired
Speaker 1: a few days before in Ladicia, Columbia, mopped his brow
Speaker 1: while he also scoured the jungle below. It was October eighteenth,
Speaker 1: nineteen sixty nine, and the river was the Rio Javari,
Speaker 1: a south bank tributary of the Amazon that wriggled along
Speaker 1: the Peruvian Brazilian border for nine hundred miles before coming
Speaker 1: to a head at the intersection of the three nations
Speaker 1: of Columbia, Peru, and Brazil. For the past four hours,
Speaker 1: the three men had been flying in the opposite direction
Speaker 1: toward the river's source in search of the Maya Runa,
Speaker 1: an Amazon tribe that were thought to have been wiped
Speaker 1: out more than fifty years before after becoming victims of
Speaker 1: rampant deforestation in service to the rubber industry. That was
Speaker 1: until nineteen sixty seven, when a Peruvian woman who had
Speaker 1: been kidnapped by the tribe but then later escaped came
Speaker 1: to the attention of two Peruvian based missionaries from America,
Speaker 1: Harriet Fields and Hattie Nieland after working with the escapee
Speaker 1: for two years. Fields and Nland had flown into the
Speaker 1: jungle only a few months before and apparently located the tribe.
Speaker 1: The fifty two year old McIntyre, a successful national geographic photographer,
Speaker 1: was hoping to be the first to photograph these people,
Speaker 1: who some believed had not had any contact with the
Speaker 1: outside world nineteen ten. McIntyre leant out the open door
Speaker 1: of the plane and raised his camera to his eye,
Speaker 1: then paused, there it is, he shouted, spotting a circle
Speaker 1: of huts within a small break in the trees. Seconds
Speaker 1: later he lost sight of it. Mercier pulled hard on
Speaker 1: the control wheel and brought the plane round for another look.
Speaker 1: Moments later, they spotted the clearing again, only this time
Speaker 1: there were people there too, almost thirty of them, gazing
Speaker 1: up at the plane in the sky. Turning round from
Speaker 1: the front seat, Karlitos gave a thumbs up to McIntyre.
Speaker 1: They had found them. Mercier eased the control wheel forward,
Speaker 1: and seconds later they were touching down onto the water
Speaker 1: and edging toward the river bank. McIntyre leaped ashore, and
Speaker 1: together with Carlitos, began unloading the six rubberized sacks, stuffed
Speaker 1: full of equipment and survival gear, as well as a
Speaker 1: number of small gifts that the photographer hoped to use
Speaker 1: for mediation with the Maya Runa. Suddenly, Carlitos doubled over
Speaker 1: in pain, clearly in some distress, Malaria, asked Mercier, who
Speaker 1: had now joined them on the bank. Karlitos shook his head,
Speaker 1: not all convincingly. Mercier looked worryingly to McIntyre as he
Speaker 1: handed the guide some food and water, suggesting he rest
Speaker 1: for a moment and see if it passes. As Mercier
Speaker 1: and Karlitos took a seat on the bank, McIntyre wandered
Speaker 1: up the river to get a measure of his surroundings,
Speaker 1: snapping liberally with his camera as he went. Seeing it
Speaker 1: so concentrated from behind the lens, he couldn't help but
Speaker 1: wonder at all the secrets that lay beyond the jungle
Speaker 1: edge and its mesh of thick palms, mahogany and vines.
Speaker 1: He stood for a moment, letting the sound of the
Speaker 1: river wash over him. As he raised his camera again
Speaker 1: for another shot. Zooming into a gap between two rubber trees,
Speaker 1: he was startled to find a child's face peeking out
Speaker 1: from it, its mouth ringed with a distinct blue lined
Speaker 1: tattoo worn only by the Maya Una Indians. He whispered
Speaker 1: to Mercier and Carlitos moments later, as he grabbed some
Speaker 1: pocket mirrors from one of the bags, they're watching us
Speaker 1: from behind the trees. Returning to the same spot, he
Speaker 1: was excited to find more young faces peering out at him.
Speaker 1: Careful not to move too fast, he placed the mirror
Speaker 1: in the mud at the water's edge, then slowly made
Speaker 1: his way back to Mercier and Carlitos, who by now
Speaker 1: was in absolutely no state to carry on. MacIntyre watched
Speaker 1: as a small naked child burst from the jungle and
Speaker 1: collected the mirrors before disappearing back into the leaves. Emboldened
Speaker 1: by this first encounter and not knowing how long the
Speaker 1: tribe might stay there, there was no question of MacIntyre
Speaker 1: giving up now, and since it was too dangerous to
Speaker 1: leave Carlitos there, there was only one thing for it.
Speaker 1: Mercier would fly the guide back in their return for
Speaker 1: McIntyre in a few days time. Though the pilot was
Speaker 1: reluctant to leave MacIntyre, they at least agreed that should
Speaker 1: he feel it necessary to venture away from the camp,
Speaker 1: he would leave a clear note where he was going
Speaker 1: and would stick close to the river at all times.
Speaker 1: Minutes later, McIntyre watched as the light Cesna aircraft lifted
Speaker 1: up from the water and disappeared into the clouds. He
Speaker 1: was now entirely alone. For the next hour, McIntyre littered
Speaker 1: the surrounding area with more gifts, hoping that by now
Speaker 1: the children he had seen earlier had informed the adults
Speaker 1: of his arrival. Then, after making a quick check of
Speaker 1: his kit, he pulled out his note book. But just
Speaker 1: as he was about to put down some thoughts, he
Speaker 1: heard a rustle in the trees. Grabbing his camera, he
Speaker 1: looked about for any sign of movement, but saw nothing.
Speaker 1: It was only then that it really hit him the isolation. Now,
Speaker 1: with Mercier and Carlitos gone, there was nothing but the
Speaker 1: possessions in front of him to root him to the world.
Speaker 1: He knew it was common in such moments as the
Speaker 1: mind fought to adjust to its new surroundings for a
Speaker 1: sense of anxiety to rise, to feel the jungle closing in. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: every distant rustle, insect buzz or strained animal screech seemed
Speaker 1: unusually amplified out there alone and exposed. This was the
Speaker 1: effect of his body adapting to calm himself. MacIntyre grabbed
Speaker 1: a machete and concentrated on preparing the camp. After hacking
Speaker 1: away some leaves, he hung up the sacks, hoping to
Speaker 1: make himself more visible for Mercier's return. Next, he placed
Speaker 1: some colored wool around the camp to serve as waypoints
Speaker 1: should he venture out any further. After stringing up a
Speaker 1: hammock and building a fire, he checked his watch to
Speaker 1: find it was six pm. Feeling suddenly tired and with
Speaker 1: the light fading fast, he checked his bed for ants,
Speaker 1: and then slipped into its torte embrace, and there he
Speaker 1: lay for a moment, listening to the flowing waters of
Speaker 1: the Rio Javari and the distant croaks and trills of
Speaker 1: unseen things, before finally drifting off to sleep. At daybreak,
Speaker 1: McIntyre was startled awake by movement above his head, soon
Speaker 1: realizing he was staring up at the long and languid
Speaker 1: torso of a three toed sloth. Not wanting to waste
Speaker 1: any time, he took down his hammock and quickly washed
Speaker 1: himself in the river. Then, after a quick meal of
Speaker 1: campfire porridge a small bag of gifts, placed the camera
Speaker 1: around his neck and stepped into the jungle. Before long,
Speaker 1: having just noticed that some of the wool he had
Speaker 1: left out earlier was missing, he felt the hairs on
Speaker 1: the back of his neck stand up. Glancing up, he
Speaker 1: saw standing directly in front of him a man roughly
Speaker 1: five foot tall with shiny black hair, wearing nothing but
Speaker 1: a small sheath of fabric covering his penis. Inked around
Speaker 1: his mouth was that same distinctive tattoo he had seen
Speaker 1: on the children the day before. Both his cheeks were
Speaker 1: coated in red paint, while above his top lip were
Speaker 1: pierced a series of long, sharp pine needles in the
Speaker 1: manner of whiskers, thus emulating the jaguar from whom the
Speaker 1: Mayoruna believed they were descended. These piercings had also earned
Speaker 1: them the nickname the cat people. Slung over his shoulder
Speaker 1: was a dead howl a monkey. The man stood completely still,
Speaker 1: knowing the Mayoruna to be fiercely defensive of their territory,
Speaker 1: while also rumored to be cannibals. It was little wonder
Speaker 1: that MacIntyre's heart thumped so hard in his chest, then
Speaker 1: beat a little harder when he saw a second man
Speaker 1: stepping out from behind the first, with a long bow
Speaker 1: and arrow in his hand. There were four in total,
Speaker 1: each carrying bows and arrows, except for the one with
Speaker 1: red cheeks, whose hand was tightly gripping a club bomb.
Speaker 1: Dea shouted MacIntyre in Portuguese, holding up his bag of gifts,
Speaker 1: but there was no response. Wanting desperately to capture this moment,
Speaker 1: but fearful of making any sudden movement, MacIntyre, whose hand
Speaker 1: was already on the camera round his neck, took a
Speaker 1: chance click. The men remained completely still. Amigos saw I
Speaker 1: an amiagle, He tried in Spanish this time, but again
Speaker 1: there was no response. McIntyre now raised the whole camera
Speaker 1: to his eye and pressed the shutter button. At the
Speaker 1: sound of the click, bread Cheeks, as MacIntyre thought of him,
Speaker 1: turned slowly round and walked back into the jungle. MacIntyre
Speaker 1: turned to look at his camp just a few yards
Speaker 1: behind him, then turned back to the men, who were
Speaker 1: now all walking away from him, and followed them deeper
Speaker 1: into the trees. McIntyre made sure to keep a respectful
Speaker 1: distance as he continued to photograph them. Although the tribesmen
Speaker 1: seemed unfazed by his presence, he struggled to keep up
Speaker 1: in the sweltering heat as they pressed ever onwards, further
Speaker 1: and further into the jungle. Then suddenly the men broke
Speaker 1: away from the path, coming to rest moments later on
Speaker 1: the edge of a swamp. Then, after laying their things down,
Speaker 1: jumped straight into the cooling waters. McIntyre checked his watch
Speaker 1: and felt a sudden rush of panic. He had been
Speaker 1: walking for over an hour and only now realized he
Speaker 1: had left his compass back at the camp. The men
Speaker 1: exited the water and approached the photographer. Having handed them
Speaker 1: a machette earlier, they were keen to see what else
Speaker 1: he was carrying. Sensing the mood had now shifted, he
Speaker 1: watched with concern as the men conferred quietly together, then
Speaker 1: promptly headed back into the jungle. McIntyre looked about him,
Speaker 1: but saw no sign of their previous path. Now completely lost,
Speaker 1: his only hope was to find the village and pray
Speaker 1: that somebody spoke Portuguese or Spanish. Without further delaying, he
Speaker 1: grabbed his things and continued on behind the hunters. After
Speaker 1: another hour of trailing them, a greatly relieved, but severely
Speaker 1: exhausted McIntyre arrived finally at the Mayoruna settlement. The camp
Speaker 1: was centred around the felled trunk of a large sumauma tree.
Speaker 1: Fourteen huts made of wooden poles and palm thatched roofs
Speaker 1: circled it, each in various stages of development. All about, men,
Speaker 1: women and children sat tending to fires or weaving baskets,
Speaker 1: as pet dogs wandered about, and the smell of cooked
Speaker 1: fish hung heavy in the air. Within minutes, McIntyre was
Speaker 1: surrounded by other members of the tribe, many with the
Speaker 1: same tattooed faces and piercings. The children were the bravest,
Speaker 1: rushing forward ahead of the adults, but cautious enough not
Speaker 1: to get too close. McIntyre recognized one of them from
Speaker 1: the day before, holding a mirror in their hand. Looking
Speaker 1: at them now gathered in front of him, he couldn't
Speaker 1: help but noticing that although some of them looked lithe
Speaker 1: and powerfully built, it was clear that they were also starving. Then,
Speaker 1: looking again the hurriedly constructed huts, he was gripped once
Speaker 1: more with panic. If this village had only recently been constructed,
Speaker 1: it wasn't the one they had seen from the air.
Speaker 1: His pilot, Mercier, would have absolutely no idea where to
Speaker 1: find him. Just then, a sudden burst of raised voices
Speaker 1: drew his attention. Standing off to one side, Red Cheeks
Speaker 1: was handing the various gifts around and gesticulating wildly toward McIntyre,
Speaker 1: mimicking the taking of photographs. McIntire felt himself clutching self
Speaker 1: consciously at the camera around his neck. Suddenly feeling very thirsty,
Speaker 1: he mined for a drink, and within seconds a bowl
Speaker 1: of water was brought to him, which he gratefully received,
Speaker 1: scooping it out with his hands. After conferring for a
Speaker 1: moment with the hunters, a man wearing a hat of leaves,
Speaker 1: whom McIntyre took to be a shaman, hurried over to
Speaker 1: him and ushered him along the length of the fallen
Speaker 1: tree toward a hut stationed at the very tip of it,
Speaker 1: outside of which sat a much older man somehow unlike
Speaker 1: all the rest, and wearing a grand crown of egret feathers,
Speaker 1: ah thought McIntyre. Finally the chief. The chief, who was
Speaker 1: busy constructing arrows from a small pile of materials on
Speaker 1: the ground next to him, regarded McIntyre coolly as he
Speaker 1: was brought toward him. Looking at his legs, McIntyre couldn't
Speaker 1: help noticing that they were covered in a series of
Speaker 1: large white wartz that reminded him of barnacles. The chief
Speaker 1: listened patiently as red Cheeks went over again how he
Speaker 1: had found macintire's camp. Once he had finished, the old
Speaker 1: man smiled, revealing a mouthful of blackened teeth. Relieved, McIntyre
Speaker 1: smiled back. Bomb dea, he said hopefully, but once again
Speaker 1: there was no sign of recognition. Exasperated, McIntyre grabbed an
Speaker 1: arrow and drew a map of the river on the ground,
Speaker 1: shouting Javari repeatedly, but getting only bemused looks in response.
Speaker 1: Then a sudden commotion drew their attention as eight more
Speaker 1: hunters carrying dead monkeys and pekeres appeared from out of
Speaker 1: the jungle. As the hunters were welcomed back into the village,
Speaker 1: the women rose to collect the game. One young girl
Speaker 1: approached a howl a monkey that lay completely still, bleeding
Speaker 1: profusely from its head. When she grabbed its leg, however,
Speaker 1: it instantly came alive and tried desperately to get away.
Speaker 1: In one movement, she swung it in a circle, crashing
Speaker 1: its head against the ground, sending blood bursting out of
Speaker 1: its nose. It twitched momentarily, then was still again. As
Speaker 1: the rest of the village went about their business, paying
Speaker 1: him little heed, McIntire tried to forget his predicament for
Speaker 1: a moment, then, remembering why he had come all this
Speaker 1: way in the first place, he raised his camera to
Speaker 1: his face and snapped a photo. By the afternoon, though
Speaker 1: McIntyre had succeeded in teaching them his name, he had
Speaker 1: got no further explaining his situation. At shortly after three
Speaker 1: p m. The communities sat down to eat, inviting him
Speaker 1: to join them. Taking a seat beside them on the ground,
Speaker 1: McIntyre was handed a slice of baijeu smeared with fish paste,
Speaker 1: which he was grateful to receive, and then it really
Speaker 1: started to hit him how stupid he had been. He
Speaker 1: looked about at the distinctly unfamiliar surroundings, and at the
Speaker 1: faces of all these people that he didn't know, who
Speaker 1: only months before many believed no longer existed. Then his
Speaker 1: head began to spin, but just as things began to
Speaker 1: spiral away from him, he found his mind suddenly filled
Speaker 1: with a strange, humming sound that seemed to drown out
Speaker 1: the other noises in the camp. Trying hard to focus
Speaker 1: on something else, the sound eventually dissipated and the noise
Speaker 1: level of the camp returned to normal. Later, just before
Speaker 1: ask a family of four kindly offered up a hammock
Speaker 1: in their hut for him to sleep in. That night,
Speaker 1: McIntyre lay awake, listening to the sounds of the jungle
Speaker 1: mingling with those of the camp, the cracking and popping fire,
Speaker 1: and wandered silently to himself about the great gulf of
Speaker 1: understanding between his world perspective and that of the Maya Aruna,
Speaker 1: before finally he drifted off to sleep. Moments later, he
Speaker 1: found himself floating high above the jungle, the greenness of
Speaker 1: it so intense it felt to him as though it
Speaker 1: were lit up from underneath, and though he couldn't tell
Speaker 1: exactly what it was, somewhere in it all was a message. Next,
Speaker 1: he found himself staring at the feet of an old man,
Speaker 1: scanning up to find those familiar wort covered legs, till
Speaker 1: finally he was looking into the eyes of the Mayaruna Chief,
Speaker 1: his face breaking into a radiant smile. McIntire snapped awake
Speaker 1: in the dark, then, laying his head down again, fell
Speaker 1: once more to sleep. At first light the following morning,
Speaker 1: McIntyre was shaken awake by one of the shaman. Sensing urgency,
Speaker 1: he gathered his things and wandered into the middle of
Speaker 1: the village to find the place engulfed in a flurry
Speaker 1: of activity. Baskets were being filled and placed on heads,
Speaker 1: babies strapped to backs, and the pets corralled spinning round.
Speaker 1: He was just in time to catch one of the
Speaker 1: men taking a club to the central post of the
Speaker 1: hut he had just been sleeping in, and knocking it
Speaker 1: down with one blow. They were moving camp. He realized
Speaker 1: they must be running from something, having been reassured by
Speaker 1: the sight of the chief. His relief was to be
Speaker 1: short lived when moments later, the villagers, having gathered everything
Speaker 1: they needed, formed a straight line and proceeded to head
Speaker 1: directly into the jungle. Once again, McIntyre had no choice
Speaker 1: but to follow them. Thirty minutes or so later, they
Speaker 1: reached a muddy stream. Now McIntyre had a choice to
Speaker 1: stay with the tribe or take a chance following the
Speaker 1: stream back to the Rio Javari. He looked downstream and
Speaker 1: thought for a moment, if he struck out now, only
Speaker 1: to sprain an ankle or get bitten by something poisonous,
Speaker 1: he would likely not live to tell the tale. He
Speaker 1: looked up to the back of the line of may
Speaker 1: Aruna as they would just just about to disappear into
Speaker 1: the foliage, and ran off to catch them up with
Speaker 1: barely a crack in the canopy above. Without his watch,
Speaker 1: it would be impossible to tell what time of day
Speaker 1: it was, as those at the front continued hacking a
Speaker 1: path for the rest to walk through. Finally they reached
Speaker 1: a small clearing. Moments later, there was a rumble of
Speaker 1: thunder above and a heavy rain began to fall. The
Speaker 1: chief shouted something to the group, who immediately dispersed and
Speaker 1: got to work. In what seemed like a matter of minutes,
Speaker 1: another camp had emerged out of the clearing, and before
Speaker 1: long the Mayoruna had settled back into life just as
Speaker 1: it was before. After taking some more photos, McIntyre found
Speaker 1: a spot between two trees and hung up his hammock.
Speaker 1: Spotting the Chief site once again on his chair at
Speaker 1: the head of the camp, making arrows, McIntyre sensed an opportunity.
Speaker 1: Taking a seat at the man's feet, he grabbed three
Speaker 1: strands of palm from the pile next to him and
Speaker 1: began to weave a belt, something he had learnt to
Speaker 1: do from his time spent in the navy. If they
Speaker 1: couldn't speak, perhaps he could earn his respect, he thought.
Speaker 1: As McIntyre platted, so too did the Chief, continue refining
Speaker 1: his arrows. Half Way done, McIntyre held up his work
Speaker 1: and the pair smiled warmly at each other. Just then,
Speaker 1: something very peculiar happened. A voice in McIntyre's head that
Speaker 1: didn't belong to him. Some of us are friends, it said.
Speaker 1: He looked up with confusion at the Chief, who remained
Speaker 1: focused on his task, that warm smile still playing about
Speaker 1: his lips. Then it came again, some of us our friends.
Speaker 1: After everything that had happened, he was finally losing it,
Speaker 1: he thought, After all, what else could explain what was
Speaker 1: going on. But then McIntyre decided to try something. Clearing
Speaker 1: his mind of all other thoughts, he concentrated solely and
Speaker 1: trying to communicate that he too was a friend. You
Speaker 1: can trust me, he repeated over and over in his mind.
Speaker 1: Moments later, something else popped into his head. I know,
Speaker 1: came the reply. McIntyre looked up, aghast at the chief,
Speaker 1: who smiled back with his wide, toothless grin. It had
Speaker 1: been two days since McIntyre had so carelessly followed the
Speaker 1: Mayaruna into the depths of the Amazon rainforest. That night,
Speaker 1: having strung up a hammock on the edge of the camp,
Speaker 1: he lay awake, replaying those words over and over in
Speaker 1: his mind. Some of us are friends. How could the
Speaker 1: chief have communicated this without uttering a word, let alone
Speaker 1: not speaking English? Did he have access to an ancient
Speaker 1: form of communication, he thought, abilities that had long died
Speaker 1: out in more contemporary societies. Or had McIntyre merely picked
Speaker 1: up on a general sensibility and he conjured the thoughts
Speaker 1: on his own? What then, did it mean that only
Speaker 1: some of them were friends? McIntyre awoke the next morning
Speaker 1: with an acrid smell of burning rubber, assaulting his nostrils.
Speaker 1: He lifted his arm to check the time, but there
Speaker 1: was no watch on his wrist. His camera and shoes
Speaker 1: were gone too. Stumbling into the middle of the camp,
Speaker 1: he found Red Cheeks and some fellow warriors of the
Speaker 1: tribe standing around a fire with a suspiciously dark plume
Speaker 1: of smoke rising up from it, and on top of
Speaker 1: it were his sneakers. McIntyre grabbed them, putting them, still scolding,
Speaker 1: on to his feet as Red Cheeks and the others
Speaker 1: crowed with laughter. MacIntyre breathed deeply, doing his best to
Speaker 1: control the anger now swelling up inside of him as
Speaker 1: he looked desperately for his camera, the one thing that
Speaker 1: justified his stupidity at getting lost out there. Just then,
Speaker 1: the chief appeared and approached him. I need to know
Speaker 1: what happened, came the voice in McIntire's head. Many others
Speaker 1: had appeared by now, crowding round the fire. The chief
Speaker 1: looked first at Red Cheeks and then to McIntyre, before
Speaker 1: turning his back and walking away. As the rest of
Speaker 1: the village moved in behind him, McIntire shouted out to them,
Speaker 1: but nobody responded. It was not uncommon for tribes to
Speaker 1: ostracize individuals to the point of invisibility. If they no
Speaker 1: longer observed them, they no longer existed. McIntyre couldn't afford
Speaker 1: to let that happen to him, so he began to jock.
Speaker 1: He started slowly at first, on a steady line circling
Speaker 1: the entire camp. By the fourth lap, he was running
Speaker 1: at pace, stamping and flailing his arms every time he
Speaker 1: went past the chief, determined for him not to ignore him. Slowly,
Speaker 1: the villagers began to take notice. Red Cheeks had noticed too,
Speaker 1: stepping forward from the others with his hand tightly gripped
Speaker 1: on a club. For a moment, McIntire thought he might
Speaker 1: attack him, but something was holding him back, and then
Speaker 1: he saw the chief watching him. Hoping he had done enough,
Speaker 1: McIntyre finally came to a stop. The chief regarded the
Speaker 1: stranger for a moment. Then, as McIntyre watched in complete amusement,
Speaker 1: he started to jock, also taking the exact same line
Speaker 1: as McIntyre, but in the opposite direction. He continued until
Speaker 1: he had completed the same amount of lapse. Then a
Speaker 1: thought came into MacIntyre's mind, the face of time, and
Speaker 1: then he realized they thought he had been putting a
Speaker 1: spell on the village, and the chief was trying to
Speaker 1: reverse it. Having finished the last lap, the chief stared
Speaker 1: again at MacIntyre for a moment, then went back to
Speaker 1: his hut. Now witnessed again by the tribe, MacIntyre returned
Speaker 1: to the fire and pulled the remains of his watch
Speaker 1: from under the ash. His last connection to time, as
Speaker 1: he knew it, had now gone. Just then he caught
Speaker 1: sight of something odd dangling from a branch. It was
Speaker 1: a roll of film. Then he saw the monkey in
Speaker 1: the tree above it, holding his precious camera in its hands.
Speaker 1: MacIntyre watched helplessly as it tore off the back and
Speaker 1: threw what was left of it somewhere deep into the undergrowth.
Speaker 1: Though he was relieved not to have been cut off
Speaker 1: from the group, losing the camera was a tough blow.
Speaker 1: He slumped to the floor, exhausted. At the very least,
Speaker 1: he still had two rolls of shot film in his pockets.
Speaker 1: If he should ever make it out of there alive,
Speaker 1: he thought. Just then, a girl he had decided to
Speaker 1: call Monia, walked past. He had seen her lying with
Speaker 1: red cheeks before, and assumed they were a couple in
Speaker 1: her hair. She wore a blue piece of the wall
Speaker 1: he had left out by his camp when he first arrived.
Speaker 1: He noticed her nails, when now painted the same color too.
Speaker 1: It was as if McIntire's presence was already staining and
Speaker 1: corrupting these people, a reminder perhaps of how quickly an
Speaker 1: isolated culture can become tainted by others. Later, after bathing
Speaker 1: in the river, newly replenished, he was greeted by the chief,
Speaker 1: who offered him one of his beautifully crafted arrows with
Speaker 1: bristles made of boar hair. A peace offering, perhaps, thought McIntyre,
Speaker 1: who gave him the belt he had weaved in return
Speaker 1: at the chief's invitation. McIntyre then followed a small group
Speaker 1: of children into the forest and watched as a shaman
Speaker 1: gave them a lesson on the many plants and insects
Speaker 1: of their habitat. Then the chief approached him again, and
Speaker 1: a thought appeared in his head. You must run away,
Speaker 1: it said. McIntyre looked confused as they stood silently together.
Speaker 1: More words appeared in macintire's mind. The tribe had been
Speaker 1: attacked before by white men who came from the sky.
Speaker 1: They were now on a journey to escape it all,
Speaker 1: But how thought McIntire. In response, by returning to the beginning,
Speaker 1: came the reply, Yes, thought McIntyre, This was why they
Speaker 1: seemed so restless, and why they were starving themselves. The
Speaker 1: chief called it a journey to the beginning, but as
Speaker 1: McIntyre understood it, it was a journey to death. The
Speaker 1: chief was offering him the chance to leave and save himself.
Speaker 1: MacIntyre looked out into the jungle and weighed up his options,
Speaker 1: but there was no question that his best chance was
Speaker 1: to stay with the tribe as long as he could.
Speaker 1: He looked back at the chief and shook his head.
Speaker 1: Over the next few days, MacIntyre began finally to adjust
Speaker 1: to the rhythms of the jungle. He survived a bout
Speaker 1: of diar rhea and spent most of his time listening
Speaker 1: for sounds of a plane, waiting in vain for the
Speaker 1: Mayoruna to up sticks and move on to the next destination.
Speaker 1: On the sixth night, MacIntyre woke in the dark. Then
Speaker 1: he heard it, the unmistakable roar of a jaguar. Moments later,
Speaker 1: an excited red Cheeks appeared carrying a flaming torch, beckoning
Speaker 1: for the photojournalist to follow him. Sensing a chance to
Speaker 1: finally prove his worth and win him over, MacIntyre cautiously
Speaker 1: headed out to him as more hunters appeared from out
Speaker 1: of their huts, and soon they were charging through the
Speaker 1: forest in pursuit of the wild animal. Hearing more jaguar
Speaker 1: cries in the distance, MacIntyre did his best to keep
Speaker 1: up with the balls of flame, bobbing and weaving through
Speaker 1: the trees ahead of him, until suddenly they came to
Speaker 1: a stop by a large thorny bush. Rushing toward it,
Speaker 1: MacIntyre was just about to stop when one of the
Speaker 1: hunters pushed him hard from behind and sent him tumbling
Speaker 1: into the thorns. He cried out in agony as the
Speaker 1: barbs stuck into him, many breaking off while still under
Speaker 1: the skin. Stumbling to his feet, MacIntyre found himself alone
Speaker 1: in complete darkness, with no sign of the flaming torches
Speaker 1: and no sign of the hunters. Of course, he thought
Speaker 1: there had been no jaguar, either he just wanted him gone,
Speaker 1: or Red Cheeks had tried to kill him. MacIntyre realized
Speaker 1: with alarm that those thorns could also be poisonous as
Speaker 1: quickly as possible. He did what he could to pull
Speaker 1: them from his skin in the dark, but many, especially
Speaker 1: those on his back, he could not reach. He waited
Speaker 1: for a moment, expecting some effect from the poison, but
Speaker 1: nothing came. Scratched and bloodied, he listened out for any
Speaker 1: sound of the camp, but heard only crickets and the
Speaker 1: occasional cry of a macaw somewhere in the canopy above.
Speaker 1: Unable to see anything more than a foot in front
Speaker 1: of him, he decided to stay put until first light.
Speaker 1: Moments later came the gnats assaulting him from all over,
Speaker 1: nipping and biting at its body. Each time he swatted
Speaker 1: them away, they seemed just to come back in greater numbers.
Speaker 1: Needing to find any kind of shelter, he eventually settled
Speaker 1: under some roots, taking care to scare off any poisonous
Speaker 1: creatures that might have been lurking there, and there he
Speaker 1: remained waiting out the rest of the night. McIntyre woke
Speaker 1: at daybreak, his body shivering with cold and itching all over.
Speaker 1: Finding the bush of thorns again, he soon located a
Speaker 1: path nearby. After following it for a few minutes, however,
Speaker 1: the path split in two. Exasperated, he took one and
Speaker 1: headed down it. Hours later, McIntyre broke through into a
Speaker 1: clearing with a flush of excitement. He spotted chainsaw marks
Speaker 1: on the trees and wondered if the loggers were still close.
Speaker 1: Though he found the practice objectionable, he realized, too, with
Speaker 1: a touch of irony, that these people might also be
Speaker 1: his best chance of survival. Moments later he found the bodies,
Speaker 1: four of them, in various states of decay, being steadily
Speaker 1: devoured by an endless line of army ants and other
Speaker 1: small creatures. McIntyre did his best to cover his nose
Speaker 1: from the smell and swatted the flies away. Then he
Speaker 1: noticed the arrows sticking out of their chests. The flights
Speaker 1: made of ball bristles, just as the chief had handed
Speaker 1: him the day before. The men Amazonians, too in their
Speaker 1: way with families of their own to support, had likely
Speaker 1: been dropped in by helicopter to prepare a formal landing
Speaker 1: spot for developers. They were unlikely to be found. McIntyre
Speaker 1: made a note of the chainsaw serial number, hoping it
Speaker 1: might help identify them. Later, continuing on feeling more and
Speaker 1: more itchy all over his body, he noticed uncture wound
Speaker 1: on his arm beginning to swell. Unusually, Taking his knife,
Speaker 1: he dug into it and pulled out a small, wriggling maggot.
Speaker 1: Many hours later, with the heat and humidity intensifying, McIntyre
Speaker 1: stumbled on in a state of near delirium, having lost
Speaker 1: all comprehension of distance, as he felt his entire self
Speaker 1: being absorbed into the buzzing vibrancy of the forest. Then,
Speaker 1: hearing the sound of water, he staggered toward it, breaking
Speaker 1: through into a scene of unparalleled beauty. Before him, under
Speaker 1: dappled sunlight lay a small river beach of untouched white sand,
Speaker 1: at the foot of two high and narrow waterfalls cascading
Speaker 1: off the face of a vast green mountain. McIntyre flopped
Speaker 1: onto the beach and threw his head into the water. Then,
Speaker 1: after taking a short rest to pick more maggots from
Speaker 1: under his skin, he carried on, hoping to follow the
Speaker 1: stream back to the river. Seconds later, he collapsed. MacIntyre
Speaker 1: slowly opened his eyes and found himself back in the
Speaker 1: Mayoruna camp as shaman busied themselves about him, sucking out
Speaker 1: the worms and tending to his wounds. He had been rescued.
Speaker 1: Hours later. After drifting in and out of consciousness, he
Speaker 1: was finally strong enough to stand. Walking round the village cautiously,
Speaker 1: he saw no sign of red cheeks anywhere, while all
Speaker 1: about women, men and children were making a huge pile
Speaker 1: out of all their possessions. Everything, it seemed, from axes
Speaker 1: and bows to calabashes and spears, was being thrown away.
Speaker 1: Then he saw it, the body lying inside a funeral
Speaker 1: basket propped up inside one of the huts. It was
Speaker 1: only when he drew near enough for the flies to
Speaker 1: scatter away from the face that MacIntyre recognized the red
Speaker 1: painted cheeks underneath. Recoiling in horror, he stepped back outside
Speaker 1: in a daze. There was no sign of red cheeks
Speaker 1: as friends either. Some of us are friends, he thought
Speaker 1: to himself. Looking up, he saw the Chief standing by
Speaker 1: the pile of tools, ordering a fire to be lit.
Speaker 1: Next to it. All of it was broken up and
Speaker 1: flung into the flames. Spotting MacIntyre, the Chief came over
Speaker 1: to join him. They were holding us still in time.
Speaker 1: When it is burned, we will move away, came the
Speaker 1: voice in MacIntyre's head. Where too, he thought, in reply
Speaker 1: to the beginning in bewilderment, MacIntyre took a seat on
Speaker 1: the edge of the camp and watched as one by
Speaker 1: one the huts were torn down and flung into the fire. Then, finally,
Speaker 1: the basket containing the body of bread Cheeks was also
Speaker 1: placed into its hungry flames. Once it had all been destroyed,
Speaker 1: just like before, the group promptly filed into a single
Speaker 1: column and marched headlong into the jungle on their journey
Speaker 1: toward the beginning, MacIntyre, feeling the two rolls of film
Speaker 1: still safe in his pocket, rose to his feet and
Speaker 1: set off after them. For two days and nights they walked,
Speaker 1: stopping only for short rests and the occasional drink of water.
Speaker 1: No food was assumed. This was finally, it thought McIntyre,
Speaker 1: they would walk until death. On the second morning, he
Speaker 1: made up his mind. At the first sight of a
Speaker 1: serious body of water, he would leave the tribe and
Speaker 1: take his chances alone. In the meantime, with the pace
Speaker 1: now barely more than a crawl, with many limping painfully,
Speaker 1: they continued forward. But then from out of the trees
Speaker 1: came a stream of new but familiar faces with tattooed
Speaker 1: lines around their mouths and noses pierced with whisker like spines,
Speaker 1: and soon they were surrounded by them, greeting them with
Speaker 1: wide smiles and warm embraces. They hadn't been walking to
Speaker 1: their death, realized McIntyre. They had been walking home. Perhaps
Speaker 1: that was what they meant by the beginning, he thought.
Speaker 1: Before long they were arriving into another village, much bigger
Speaker 1: than the previous camps, with over twenty huts dotted about.
Speaker 1: The mood was jubilant as the new arrival settled in
Speaker 1: with the others and the chief was given an especially
Speaker 1: warm welcome. Then McIntyre spotted incredibly that one of the
Speaker 1: new tribespeople was wearing shorts. Could it be, he thought,
Speaker 1: as he approached him, cautiously, trying hard not to get
Speaker 1: his hopes up. Hello, he said in Portuguese, my name
Speaker 1: is Loreen Loren. Yes, welcome, replied the man, also in Portuguese.
Speaker 1: McIntyre could barely stand as the relief washed over him.
Speaker 1: The man named Cambio had learned the language after being
Speaker 1: forced to flee from his village when it was attacked
Speaker 1: by developers. Having managed to escaped to Peru, he had
Speaker 1: sought refuge in a Baptist mission, where he stayed for
Speaker 1: three years before finally rejoining his people. That night, the
Speaker 1: ravenous MacIntyre stuffed his face on plates of turtle meat
Speaker 1: and bade you as Cambio explained more about the life
Speaker 1: of the Maya Una. Later, MacIntyre asked him if he
Speaker 1: ever spoke to the others without words, was it possible
Speaker 1: that he had been doing this with the chief. Cambio's
Speaker 1: face lit up with a look of great surprise. No,
Speaker 1: he had not, he replied. Only the elders knew how
Speaker 1: to do that, but there was nothing more he could
Speaker 1: tell him about it. After dinner, MacIntyre noticed some women
Speaker 1: spitting into bowls and mixing it with chopped vines from
Speaker 1: the forest, preparing for a ceremony. He asked Cambio, Yes,
Speaker 1: he replied, we are returning to the beginning. It seemed
Speaker 1: the mysterious journey was still happening. After all. You know,
Speaker 1: what's supposed to keep you up at night, unexplained. What
Speaker 1: isn't supposed to keep you up at night is worrying
Speaker 1: whether or not you've really sourced the best candidate for
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Speaker 1: there every ten seconds, hurried to LinkedIn dot com slash
Speaker 1: Unexplained podcast and get fifty dollars off your first job
Speaker 1: post that's LinkedIn dot com slash Unexplained podcast. To get
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Speaker 1: slash Unexplained Podcast. Terms and conditions apply. McIntyre woke up
Speaker 1: in the middle of the night to find Cambio standing
Speaker 1: over his hammock, gesturing for him to stay quiet. He
Speaker 1: led the photojournalist toward a large hut from which a
Speaker 1: soft yellow light was emanating. McIntyre stepped inside and froze there.
Speaker 1: On the ground. Before him sat the Chief, now more
Speaker 1: regal than ever in a grand McCaw feathered crown, surrounded
Speaker 1: by other elders and shaman, their faces just visible under
Speaker 1: the flickering of torchlight. The Chief gestured for McIntyre to
Speaker 1: sit down. Why did you come to us, he asked
Speaker 1: out loud, as Cambio translated. Then MacIntyre explained that he
Speaker 1: had heard of their tribe and had come there to
Speaker 1: photograph them. The men looked to each other with concern,
Speaker 1: and why hadn't he left already? He had wanted to before,
Speaker 1: he replied, But now, if he was allowed, he would
Speaker 1: like to witness them reaching the beginning. He needed to
Speaker 1: know what it was. After a moment's pause, the men
Speaker 1: smiled and nodded in approval. You staying here will be
Speaker 1: good for the ritual, said the chief. MacIntyre, suddenly unsure
Speaker 1: again about what he was getting into, asked when it
Speaker 1: will happen, to which the chief replied in two days.
Speaker 1: But how do you know what you are looking for?
Speaker 1: What if the beginning isn't there any more, asked MacIntyre.
Speaker 1: As Cambio translated, The chief broke into a laugh. The
Speaker 1: beginning is always there, he replied, it is never over,
Speaker 1: and with that MacIntyre was dismissed. The following day, MacIntyre
Speaker 1: watched with interest as the village continued to prepare for
Speaker 1: the ceremony to the beginning. As more ingredients were brought
Speaker 1: from the jungle, and mixed into pots by the women.
Speaker 1: That night, he was unexpectedly woken by Cambio. Come, Loren,
Speaker 1: he says, it is happening now. At this MacIntyre is
Speaker 1: led through the dark toward a long line of tribesmen.
Speaker 1: Cambio explains to him that they must join the line
Speaker 1: to choose their new name, the name they will take
Speaker 1: to the beginning. Before he has time to think, the
Speaker 1: entire line takes a big step to the left. Cambio
Speaker 1: nods for McIntyre to join in. Quickly, they take another
Speaker 1: three steps forward, followed by two more to the right,
Speaker 1: then back and to the left, ending the movements with
Speaker 1: a clap. MacIntyre does his best to dance with them
Speaker 1: as they go round again, and soon the men are
Speaker 1: beginning to chant as well as On and on it
Speaker 1: goes until daylight, when finally they stop. MacIntyre then spots
Speaker 1: the chief making his way down the line, asking each
Speaker 1: of them to give their new name, placing a thumbprint
Speaker 1: of red eruco paint on their foreheads as he goes.
Speaker 1: Another elder following behind smears their chest with crushed ginipap
Speaker 1: and gives them a bowl to drink from. Finally, it
Speaker 1: is McIntyre's turn. Unsure what to say, he gives his surname,
Speaker 1: to which the chief nods, then presses a red thumb
Speaker 1: print on to his forehead, and then comes the bowl
Speaker 1: of viscous liquid, the concoction of fermented vine juice and spit.
Speaker 1: Unable to back out now, he takes a deep breath
Speaker 1: and drinks heavily from the bowl. MacIntyre had hoped at
Speaker 1: the very least the drink wasn't a hallucinogenic drug. He
Speaker 1: realized very quickly that it was. The men stagger out
Speaker 1: of the lion. In a daze, MacIntyre finds Cambio and
Speaker 1: gestures for him to sit with him as he waits
Speaker 1: for the drug to hit. Before long, he feels the
Speaker 1: warmth of it coursing through his body, feels time and
Speaker 1: space contracting at will. Heading back into the throng, he
Speaker 1: sees the lid of a bamboo container lifted up to
Speaker 1: reveal hundreds of frogs flopping about inside it. Cambio holds
Speaker 1: one up and shows MacIntyre the secretions on its back,
Speaker 1: and then drips some onto his tongue. To the side,
Speaker 1: a shaman pierces his arm with a knife, while others
Speaker 1: peal back the wound and drip the frog's secretion straight
Speaker 1: into it. All about him, the men are pacing around,
Speaker 1: with some having dropped to all fours, barking and roaring
Speaker 1: as they mimic the sacred jaguar. Through the chaos, MacIntyre
Speaker 1: also becomes aware of other men blowing powder into each
Speaker 1: other's noses. After receiving it, the men clutch at their
Speaker 1: faces for a moment, then open their eyes in a
Speaker 1: distant and vacant stare. McIntyre, who had refused all of it,
Speaker 1: stumbled back to where it started through puddles of vomit
Speaker 1: brought up by some of the more adventurous drinkers of
Speaker 1: the liquid. Finding a quiet spot on the edge of
Speaker 1: the village, McIntyre dropped back onto the floor and stared
Speaker 1: up at a distant, unknown point above. By the afternoon,
Speaker 1: with the ritual over and the effects of the drink
Speaker 1: wearing off, McIntyre finds the Chief. Knowing he will be
Speaker 1: leaving soon, he wonders if he might stay in contact
Speaker 1: with them to trade ideas or help them acquire medicines. Perhaps,
Speaker 1: but the Chief looks confused. Just then, Cambio appears you
Speaker 1: are at the Beginning. Now, McIntyre, you cannot return to
Speaker 1: your people. They are no longer there. And then it
Speaker 1: hits him, when are we going to die? He asks?
Speaker 1: Now it is Cambio's turn to look confused. We are
Speaker 1: not dying, he said, with a smile. The Chief gestured
Speaker 1: for McIntyre to follow him. Moments later, they are standing
Speaker 1: by the banks of a muddy stream. The Chief points
Speaker 1: to a narrow section of it up ahead, then looks
Speaker 1: back to McIntyre. The Beginning comes the voice in his head,
Speaker 1: and finally McIntyre understands it is not home or death
Speaker 1: that they have journeyed to, but simply to a time before,
Speaker 1: a time that always was and always is, a time
Speaker 1: before the objects of the world were smothered by the
Speaker 1: language of humans. The journey to the Beginning was a
Speaker 1: shedding of all that baggage, the burning of those material
Speaker 1: possessions that were holding them still in time, a chance
Speaker 1: to reset and begin again. Now having reached the Beginning,
Speaker 1: perhaps they could find a better path forward. Perhaps now
Speaker 1: they might be safe. And with that also MacIntyre understood
Speaker 1: something else. If they were to let him leave, it
Speaker 1: would destroy the spell and take them right back to
Speaker 1: the future they had left behind. They would sooner kill
Speaker 1: him than risk that. Over the next few weeks, MacIntyre
Speaker 1: tried to accept his fate. With no hope of returning
Speaker 1: home on his own, he focused on learning more of
Speaker 1: their language and helping out with whatever he could, until
Speaker 1: one night when MacIntyre woke up to find himself being
Speaker 1: completely drenched as a gutteral thunder roared above him. Jumping
Speaker 1: from his hammock, he landed in a streaming torrent of
Speaker 1: knee high water. Only then did he become aware of
Speaker 1: the frantic screaming at the villages. Stumbling about in the
Speaker 1: dark with the floodwaters pulling at his legs, he is
Speaker 1: suddenly clattered by a makeshift raft of two locks tied
Speaker 1: loosely together, Falling on to it. In seconds, he has
Speaker 1: whisked through the trees and spewed out beyond into what
Speaker 1: is now a raging river. Hearing the cries again of
Speaker 1: the villagers, he tried furiously to paddle back to the bank,
Speaker 1: but then he realized this was his chance. Clinging tighter
Speaker 1: to the raft, he let the river take him away
Speaker 1: from the camp and out into the dark. Over the
Speaker 1: next day and night, MacIntyre was knocked about ceaselessly by
Speaker 1: turbulent waters, only stopping occasionally to rest and shelter from
Speaker 1: the unforgiving sun. On the second day, raising his head
Speaker 1: wearily from the raft, he spotted three rubberized bags strung
Speaker 1: out across a fallen tree. After almost three weeks, he
Speaker 1: had finally made it back to his former camp, finding
Speaker 1: tinned food in one of the bags and later a
Speaker 1: battered canoe. McIntyre was eventually spotted and rescued by the
Speaker 1: Peruvian Navy. He would eventually make his way back to Aquito's,
Speaker 1: from where he had first set out on his epic
Speaker 1: journey in search of the Maya Runa. It was only
Speaker 1: after he was rescued that McIntyre realized a role of
Speaker 1: film had fallen from his pocket. With only one roll
Speaker 1: of shot film left to develop, MacIntyre will later be
Speaker 1: devastated to discover that it had been completely damaged by water.
Speaker 1: A few weeks later, after being given a clean bill
Speaker 1: of health from the Navy doctors, McIntyre returned home. Unsure
Speaker 1: of just what exactly he had experienced in the jungle,
Speaker 1: McIntyre wrestled over it for years before telling his story
Speaker 1: to Petroupopescu and Jon Michel Cousteaux while drifting down the
Speaker 1: Amazon River. All those years later, in nineteen seventy one,
Speaker 1: McIntyre returned to Peru, where, along with three others, he
Speaker 1: is credited with locating a lake that many take to
Speaker 1: be the furthermost source of the Amazon, what is now
Speaker 1: known as Laguna McIntyre was found just over seventeen thousand
Speaker 1: feet up about MissMe in the Andes. He remained one
Speaker 1: of national geographics most celebrated and respected photojournalists until his
Speaker 1: death at the age of eighty six in two thousand three.
Speaker 1: In twenty sixteen, writer Petru Popescu published The Encounter Amazon Beaming,
Speaker 1: giving the full and previously unheard account of McIntyre's extraordinary adventure.
Speaker 1: It would also be remiss of me not to mention
Speaker 1: the war one man show The Encounter, adapted from the
Speaker 1: book and performed by the genius that is Simon McBurney.
Speaker 1: The show, produced by his company Complicity, was simply one
Speaker 1: of the most incredible theater shows I have ever seen,
Speaker 1: and I can only hope it returns one day for
Speaker 1: anyone who didn't get the chance to experience it as
Speaker 1: for the Mayoruna, also known as the Matzis. If McIntyre's
Speaker 1: story is to be believed, their journey to the beginning
Speaker 1: did little to correct their path from the ever encroaching
Speaker 1: modern world. Despite being a nomadic tribe by nature, With
Speaker 1: developers moving further and further into their usual territory, they
Speaker 1: were forced to agree a land settlement in nineteen ninety eight.
Speaker 1: Home to three thousand, two hundred tribespeople. The area covering
Speaker 1: roughly eighteen hundred square miles is known as the Matzis Indigenous.
Speaker 1: To continue to survive, they are now having to sell
Speaker 1: it off to develop us. This episode was written by
Speaker 1: Richard mcclin smith Unexplained as an av Club Productions podcast
Speaker 1: created by Richard McClain Smith. All other elements of the podcast,
Speaker 1: including the music, are also produced by me Richard McClain
Speaker 1: Smith Unexplained. The book and audiobook, with stories never before
Speaker 1: featured on the show, is now available to buy worldwide.
Speaker 1: You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Waterstones and
Speaker 1: other bookstores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever
Speaker 1: you get your podcasts, and feel free to get in
Speaker 1: touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've
Speaker 1: heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of
Speaker 1: your own you'd like to share. You can find out
Speaker 1: more at Unexplained Podcast dot com. Reaches online through Twitter
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