“This is how we continue to be indigenous in the bodies we have and in the culture that enlightens and guides us (…) Now, I invite you to shake my hand and come with me to tour, once again, your villages. Have a good trip”.

Darcy Ribeiro

Brazil is, above all, Indigenous Land. Before the invention of the State, the imposition of the colony and the design of borders, there were more than a thousand peoples, whose ancestors arrived in these lands, in different migratory flows, over at least 12 thousand years, with their languages, cultivators of gardens, guardians of forests, rivers and hinterlands. Today, about 305 indigenous peoples, speaking more than 270 languages, remain alive throughout the Brazilian territory, from Oiapoque to Chuí, from the Pampas to the Amazon rainforest, from the Northeastern hinterlands to the metropolises. They number more than 1.6 million people, according to the last Census, reaffirming the continuity of ways of life that have experienced more than five centuries of violence and expropriation.

To say Brazil: Indigenous Land is to break with the logic that has always wanted to restrict original peoples to fragmented and invisible territories. It means affirming that the ground we walk on carries layers of stories, cosmologies, and cultures that structure not only the indigenous vital context, but the Brazilian identity itself. Cassava, corn, jenipapa, annatto, hammocks, and the words that name cities and rivers — all of this reminds us that the indigenous presence is structural, not residual.

The colonial war that began in 1500, unfortunately, did not end. This exhibition was born as a manifesto and continues the statement of the Guarani leader Sepé Tiaraju, made in 1756, when he said “… this land has an owner”. It draws courage, in images, objects, sounds, and narratives, and recognizes the organization of indigenous peoples and their achievements, such as the 1974 assemblies, which culminated in the legal recognition of the term Indigenous Land, in the Federal Constitution of 1988.

By affirming that Brazil is an Indigenous Land, we challenge the founding fiction of the nation-state, which has always wanted to separate “indigenous land” from “national territory”. That separation is the colonial crime itself. To bring these two instances together in a single sentence is to recover the right to name, to exist, and to project a common future.

As Eduardo Viveiros de Castro recalls, indigenous peoples have always been “the involuntary of the homeland”, those who were imposed a nationality that they did not ask for. They are the ones who offer the most radical example of resistance to the colonial and capitalist machine that threatens to devastate the planet.

The material culture of indigenous peoples leads to the chosen narrative. Baskets, ornaments, fabrics, graphics and instruments present the intertwining of the various dimensions of time, collective memory, education, and the politics exercised by indigenous peoples. Each story, each plot, each piece of wood brings, in the ancient techniques transmitted by generations, its own conception of the world that supports life in its own agency. The objects, far from being produced by the logic of merchandise, resist homogenization and speak in their own languages, carried and perpetuated by the collective authorship that we call ancestry.

This exhibition, therefore, does not present an “index collection”. What you see here is the fruit of a flow: pieces brought by the hands of peoples, brought together through enchantment, beauty and meaning. They are fragments that allow us to glimpse the vastness of worlds, each with its own aesthetic, each with its own history of struggle and creation. From the Guarani Mbya to the Yanomami, from the Ticuna to the Pataxó, from the Xavante to the Munduruku, indigenous peoples are present in all biomes and regions of Brazil, creating life alternatives and reworking their cultures in the face of historical transformations.

The visitor is invited to experience a crossing: to see, hear and feel the strength of cultures that sustain life. It’s not just about contemplating forms, but about allowing oneself to be indigenized — recognizing that the indigenous condition, that is, the autonomous production of existence in relation to the land, is the key to a possible humanity. In the context of COP30, when the world turns to the Amazon and to climate emergencies, this exhibition reaffirms: there will be no sustainable future without indigenous peoples.

Brazil: Indigenous Land is thus a summons – a political and aesthetic affirmation that the original peoples are still present, creating, resisting, and illuminating the country with their cultures and their struggles. Appreciating what is presented here is more than a gesture of curiosity; it is recognizing the necessary commitment to those who, for over 500 years, have insisted on teaching us that it is only possible to inhabit the common world if we recognize that the earth does not belong to us: we belong to the earth.

Gabriel Gutierrez
Vale Cultural Institution/Vale Maranhão Cultural Center

Emanoel de Oliveira Junior
Museu Paraense Emílio Goeldi

São Luís, Belém, September 2025

INDIGENOUS PEOPLES IN THE LONG TERM

Before the European invasion, the territory we now call Brazil was densely populated, rich, and diverse. It had a very different geopolitics from the one we know today.

The borders, before, were different and the rivers did not mark borders: they were paths that connected countless peoples and regions of the Americas.

The “ancient history of Brazil” – not prehistory! – dates back about 12 thousand years in the Amazon and deals with the ancestors of today’s indigenous peoples. These peoples, from which many contemporary Amazonian communities are descended, occupied almost the entire length of the basin at least three millennia ago.

They were well-structured regional societies organized in dense and lasting settlements, interconnected over great distances.

The marks of these occupations are everywhere and can be seen in the very composition of the forests – yes, the forests were managed by the ancients!

The fertile Black Lands — dark soils resulting from ancient management techniques — and monumental buildings are notable examples of ancient indigenous technologies. Among them, the Marajoara tesos (large land platforms artificially built by the peoples of the Marajó archipelago) and the geoglyphs of the southwestern Amazon (gigantic geometric shapes traced on the ground, located in the region that today corresponds to the state of Acre) stand out.

Ceramics are living testimonies of human, domestic, and ceremonial activities. They materialize ancient knowledge and are present both in archaeological sites scattered throughout the region and in today’s indigenous communities.

Much has changed since colonization, a process marked by asymmetries and disagreements. But indigenous peoples hold, in their essence, all the ancestry and knowledge of those ancient societies.

The cultural diversity of the contemporary Amazon is rooted in the territories and memories of the indigenous peoples of the past.

Helena Lima
Belém, September 2025

The indigenous struggle

Since 1500, the history of Brazil can be read as a continuous war against indigenous peoples — an offensive that changes its face, but not its objective: to uproot them from the land, dissolve their ways of life and submit them to the State. From forced catechesis and the “just wars” of the colonial period to villages and the Pombaline Directory, the crux was always the same: to transform people into an administered population. In the Empire and the Republic, the machine continued. In 1910, the Indian Protection Service (SPI) was born with the promise of “protecting and integrating”; in practice, it mixed guardianship, violence, and alliances with economic fronts. In 1967, after the CPI that exposed the agency’s crimes, the SPI became Funai — and the cycle of compulsory integration gained new impetus under the dictatorship (1964-1985), when roads, dams, and colonization projects pushed dozens of peoples into hunger, disease, and exile.

The organized reaction never took long, from the beginning the peoples fought for their autonomy, but it was from the second half of the 20th century that they obtained the means to document it and especially to publicize it. In the 1970s, the Indigenous Missionary Council (Cimi, 1972) began to denounce violations and support grass-roots organizations. In the 1980s, the indigenous movement emerged with strength and cohesion. The peoples created regional associations, assemblies across the country, the Union of Indigenous Nations, the creation of the COIAB (1989) in the Amazon. In 1988, the Constitution recognized original rights to traditionally occupied land (arts. 231 and 232) – not as a state gift, but as a limit to the State. The constitutional letter, however, was followed by three decades of omissions, judicialization, and violence in the countryside.

In the 2000s, the struggle became nationalized and won a calendar. The Terra Livre Camp (ATL), an annual meeting in Brasilia since 2004, transformed the Square of the Three Powers into a public arena for indigenous politics, bringing together hundreds of peoples and putting pressure on the Executive, Legislative and Judiciary. From there, the articulation emerged that, in 2005, would give rise to the APIB – consolidated as a national front starting in 2009 -, capable of unifying agendas and speaking to the country and the world at decisive moments (legal frameworks, environmental licenses, humanitarian crises).

The 2010s brought victories and new attacks. Demarcations advanced and retreated depending on the government at the time, while high-impact projects (hydroelectric dams, mining, extensive agribusiness) multiplied pressures. The “false Indian” rhetoric and the time frame thesis – which intended to reduce the rights to the photograph of 5/10/1988 – gained traction in Congress, but were overthrown by the Supreme Court in 2023, which reaffirmed the original nature of territorial rights. In the same period, crises such as that of the Yanomami exposed the human cost of capturing the State by illegal interests (mining, logging, land grabbing).

The most significant institutional turning point came on January 1, 2023, with the creation of the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples (MPI) by provisional measure, with indigenous leadership in the conduct of State politics and FUNAI redesigned as the National Foundation for Indigenous Peoples. In practice, this meant opening a permanent channel – with agenda power – between the government and more than 300 peoples: resumption of demarcation processes (with 16 approvals between 2023 and 2025), coordinated response to emergencies (the Yanomami case), reactivation of the National Council for Indigenous Policy, and internalization of consultations through caravans and thematic conferences.

None of this ends the war. The conflict is updated in laws, ordinances, lawsuits, fake news, and violence in the territory. What has changed is that today there is an articulated indigenous movement nationally and internationally, with its own grammar, clear guidelines and constant presence in Brasilia; and there is, for the first time, a ministry whose reason for existing is to make this bridge work — from rights to the ground. The dispute, therefore, is less about “including” indigenous people in the national project and more about recognizing that there are many country projects. The original peoples do not want to become “like us”, but to remain themselves, with the earth at the center. Indigenous politics only makes sense when it starts in the territory and returns to it. It’s not about “giving a voice” to anyone – it’s about, in short, listening.

Terra Livre Camp: 21 years of indigenous mobilization in the heart of Brazil

Since 2004, the Terra Livre Camp (ATL) has been the largest and most important space for political mobilization of indigenous peoples in Brazil. The result of an occupation on the Esplanada dos Ministério in Brasilia, first organized by indigenous leaders from the south of the country, it soon received the support of peoples from all over Brazil. The demonstration was articulated in response to the unfulfilled promises of a “new indigenist policy” after the 2002 elections, becoming a mark of resistance. Its initial objective — to demand land demarcations, the end of state guardianship, and the effective participation of indigenous peoples in political decisions — remains at the center of the guidelines, renewed with each edition.

In 2005, the ATL resulted in the founding of the Articulation of Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (APIB), which today represents nationally and internationally the demands of indigenous peoples. Held annually in the month of April, the month of Indigenous Peoples Day (April 19), the meeting brings together thousands of indigenous people from all regions and biomes, who occupy Brasilia in marches, assemblies and cultural events. During the ATL, public policies for health, education, the environment, climate justice and, above all, the defense of the territory – the central axis of the indigenous struggle – are discussed.

Over two decades, the ATL established itself as a source of indigenous political participation, inspiring and forming new leaders, especially young people and women. It was in this space that achievements such as the National Council for Indigenous Policy (CNPI), the Special Secretariat for Indigenous Health (SESAI) and the National Policy for Environmental and Territorial Management of Indigenous Lands (PNGATI) were born. More than an annual mobilization, the ATL is a permanent forum for coordination, which connects the struggle in the territories to the institutional decision-making arenas.

The strength of the ATL was evident in its recent editions: in 2025, more than 8,000 indigenous people, representing about 150 peoples, occupied Brasilia to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the APIB and to reaffirm the defense of the 1988 Constitution, which recognizes the original rights to traditional lands. The massive and plural presence demonstrated that, in the face of the threats of the “time frame” and contemporary violence, the indigenous movement responds with organization, memory, and resistance.

Source: ARTICULATION OF THE INDIGENOUS PEOPLES OF BRAZIL (APIB). History of the ATL (Terra Livre Camp). [s.d.]. Available at: https://apiboficial.org/historicoatl/. Accessed on: September 15, 2025.

The indigenous struggle in Brazil has always had as its axis the maintenance of life in all its dimensions — of the forest and rivers, of villages, of bodies and of cultures. By protecting life, indigenous peoples also affirm freedom and democracy, understood as ways of existing in a collective manner, in which autonomy and the right to difference are non-negotiable. This struggle is crossed by a deep indigenous intelligentsia, which not only resists, but formulates worldviews and social practices capable of counteracting the logic of exploitation and the systematic destruction produced by colonial powers.

Each people has its own history and its own chronology, however it is important to know great moments of the indigenous struggle:

1500 — 1600 | Initial colonization and resistance wars

1500 — Portuguese invasion; beginning of enslavement and forced villages.

1554 — 1567 — Confederation of Tamoios (RJ): alliance between Tupinambá, Tupiniquin and allies against Portuguese colonizers.

1567 — Defeat of the Tamoios; strengthening of the Portuguese-indigenous alliance led by Araribóia (Temimína), with the return of land in Niterói.

1600 — 1700 | Bandeirante expansion and religious missions

Intensification of entries and flags in search of indigenous slaves.

Jesuit reductions (South and Midwest): an attempt at catechesis and population control.

Guarani resistance in missionary villages, often destroyed by bandits.

1700 — 1800 | Late Colonial Wars

1753 — 1756 — Guaranitic War: Guaranis resist the execution of the Madrid Treaty and the expulsion of the missions.

Guaicuru/Kadiwéu peoples maintain military autonomy in the Midwest, confronting the Portuguese and, later, the Empire.

1800 — 1900 | Empire and First Republic

1850 — Land Law: extinguishes traditional possession and conditions property on purchase, legalizing expropriation.

Indigenous peoples are treated as “orphans” of the State, under guardianship.

1890 — Service for the Protection of the Indians and Localization of National Workers (SPILTN): embryo of an official indigenist policy, of an assimilationist nature.

1900 — 1950 | Politics of Rondon and the New State

1910 — Foundation of the Indian Protection Service (SPI): headed by Cândido Rondon, adopts the motto “Die if necessary, never kill”, but acts under an integrationist logic.

1920s — 30s: expansion of colonization fronts in the Midwest and the Amazon; the expansion of rubber exploration.

1934 — Constitution of Getúlio Vargas: first to mention protection for “silviculturists”.

1942 — 45 — March to the West: Varguist policy that accelerates the invasion of indigenous lands in the name of national integration.

1950 — 1970 | Dictatorship and Organized Resistance

1967 — Creation of Funai (National Indian Foundation): replaces the SPI after allegations of corruption and massacres (Figueiredo Report).

1970s: the military regime promotes major works (hydroelectric dams, roads, mining) that intensify removals and genocides.

Local resistance is growing against projects such as Transamazônica and Itaipu.

1970 — 1980 | Emergence of the contemporary indigenous movement

1970—72 — First local and regional associations emerge in response to the impact of the dictatorship.

1973 — Indian Statute (Law 6,001): maintains a guardianship logic, but creates demarcation instruments.

1979 — Creation of the Indigenous Missionary Council (CIMI): supported by the progressive Catholic Church.

Leaders emerge: Marçal de Souza Tupá-Y (Guarani Kaiowá), Mário Juruna (Xavante), Raoni Metuktire (Kayapó).

1980 — 1990 | Redemocratization and Constitution of 1988

1980 — Creation of UNI (Union of Indigenous Nations): the first indigenous national organization.

1982 — Mário Juruna elected federal deputy: first indigenous person in the National Congress.

1987 — 88 — Constituent: indigenous national mobilization guarantees articles 231 and 232 of the Constitution, recognizing original land rights.

1989 — Tuíre Kayapó (Kayapó): historic act against Belo Monte.

Intellectual leaders gain exposure: Ailton Krenak, Paulinho Paiakan, Davi Kopenawa Yanomami.

1990 — 2000 | Expansion of indigenous organizations

Strengthening regional associations: APIB (Articulation of Indigenous Peoples of Brazil) appeared at the end of the 1990s, bringing together regional articulations.

Advancement of the struggle for demarcations in the Amazon (Yanomami, Raposa Serra do Sol).

Emergence of female leaders: Eliane Potiguara, writer and activist, creates the Indigenous Women’s Network.

2000 — 2010 | Institutional recognition

2009 — Demarcation of the Raposa Serra do Sol Indigenous Land (RR).

2003 — 2010 — Lula/Dilma Governments: highest number of approved lands since the re-democratization.

Indigenous people expand their presence in international spaces (UN, environmental POPs).

2010 — 2020 | Territorial crisis and female leadership

2012 — Homologation of the Raposa Serra do Sol Indigenous Land confirmed by the STF.

Threats intensified by mining, hydroelectric projects, and the advancement of agribusiness.

The role of female leaders: Célia Xakriabá, Alessandra Korap Munduruku, Maria Leusa Kaba Munduruku, Juma Xipaia.

2018 — Joenia Wapichana becomes the first elected indigenous federal representative.

2020 — present | Institutionalization of leadership

2022 — Election of Sonia Guajajara (Guajajara/Tentehar) federal representative for SP.

2023 — Creation of the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples (MPI): Sonia Guajajara is appointed prime indigenous minister of Brazil.

2023 — Joenia Wapichana assumes the presidency of Funai: the first indigenous woman to head the institution.

National mobilization against the Time Frame and partial victory in the Supreme Court.

Article 231 — The Indians are recognized for their social organization, customs, languages, beliefs and traditions, and their original rights over the lands they traditionally occupy, and the Union is responsible for demarcating them, protecting and ensuring respect for all their assets.

INDIGENOUS CULTURAL AREAS OF BRAZIL BY EDUARDO GALVÃO

Eduardo Enéas Gustavo Galvão (1921-1976) was a Brazilian anthropologist who decisively contributed to the consolidation of anthropology and the concept of cultural areas in the country. The concept of cultural area originates from North American anthropology. Researchers like Wissler reflected on its applicability in North America and the Amazon. Others, such as Stout, Cooper, Kroeber, Bennet, Bird, and Murdock, developed studies on the concept of a cultural area that encompassed all of South America, each with its own classification methodologies.

However, it was Eduardo Galvão who created a model that reflects on the concept of a cultural area focused specifically on the reality of Brazil’s indigenous peoples. Based on his analyses, he realized the difficulty of applying foreign models to the Brazilian context, requiring a more appropriate adaptation.

Inspired by Steward and Murdock, Galvão began his work carrying out a survey of the indigenous peoples present in Brazil between the years 1900 and 1959. The choice of this period was influenced by the studies of Brazilian anthropologist Darcy Ribeiro. Galvão justifies that he chose it as a first stage in the classification of cultural areas in Brazil, without thereby excluding the possibility of carrying out this same survey in other time frames. His concept of cultural area was presented to the scientific community in the article “Indigenous Cultural Areas of Brazil: 1900-1959”, published in the Bulletin of the Museu Paraense Emilio Goeldi in 1960.

According to cultural areas, Brazil’s indigenous peoples and their territories are classified into the following regions: North-Amazon, Juruá-Purus, Guaporé, Tapajós-Madeira, Xingu, Tocantins-Xingu, Pindaré-Gurupi, Paraguay, Paraná, Tietê Uruguay, and the Northeast. Galvão explains that these areas were defined taking into account the cultural traits of indigenous peoples; contact between peoples from the same cultural area or between different cultural areas; and contact with non-indigenous society. Also inspired by Darcy Ribeiro, Galvão uses in his model classifications such as: isolated indigenous groups; intermittent contact groups; permanent contact groups and integrated groups. The cultural areas in Galvão still took into account criteria such as material culture (ceramics, braids, fabrics, wood, weapons, and ritual objects); social organization (kinship); economy (agriculture and gathering, hunting and fishing techniques); symbolism (body painting, ritual); social dynamics (migrations) and environment (hydrography, biome, and region).

Galvão demonstrated that cultural areas could be applicable to the organization of ethnographic museum collections. In 1955, he assumed the position of head of the Department of Anthropology at the Emilio Goeldi Museum of Paraense. On this occasion, he noted that the Museum had nine thousand ethnographic and archaeological pieces, artifacts from indigenous populations and traditional communities, but which were not organized.

During his tenure, ethnographic artifacts were classified according to the cultural areas to which they belonged and stored in a technical reserve called the Curt Nimuendajú Ethnographic Collection. At the beginning of the 21st century, the Goeldi Museum’s Ethnographic Collection ceased to be organized by cultural areas and began to have the artifacts packaged in a new building, according to procedures that took into account the raw materials used, in order to extend their conservation time.

This methodology was replaced, at least in this museum, by Berta Ribeiro’s Dictionary of Indigenous Handicrafts, published by the University of São Paulo in 1988 — a reference work by one of the pioneers of Brazilian anthropology.

Cultural areas constitute a comparative system that stresses the concepts of culture and acculturation, as well as the exchanges of material and immaterial culture between original peoples. This concept leaves a fundamental historical and anthropological legacy for understanding the trajectories, dynamics, and territorialities existing among Brazilian indigenous groups.

Galvão’s studies also contributed to the creation of indigenous policies, some with direct implications for the preparation of anthropological reports that resulted in processes of demarcation of Indigenous Lands. Another example is his participation in the proposed creation of the Xingu Indigenous Park, in addition to his contributions to Brazilian museology.

Since Galvão’s approaches in the 1950s and 1960s, new relationships have been woven by Brazilian indigenous peoples. These peoples engaged in the indigenous movement, entered universities, the labor market, and Brazilian politics. They acquired new techniques and were empowered with the use of contemporary technologies. Today, they carry out cultural exchanges in other formats and with an international reach.

The concept of acculturation ceased to be legitimate by anthropology and the State with the Constitution of 1988, because it reinforces stereotypes and the idea that indigenous peoples are doomed to extinction. However, reality refuted this perspective: the indigenous population not only grew, but also continues to preserve and strengthen their cultures, territories, and rights.

Suzana Primo dos Santos
Ana Manoela Primo dos Santos Soares
Emilio Goeldi Paraense Museum

Belém, July 2025

Julio Cezar Melatti, when resuming the discussion about ethnographic areas in South America, starts from the classic proposal of Eduardo Galvão (1959), which delimited cultural areas based on common elements and intertribal contacts. Recognizing the merits of this division, Melatti points out limits: the excessive emphasis on cultural homogenization and the lack of attention to social and political articulation. Its update seeks to overcome these gaps by adopting the concept of ethnographic areas instead of cultural areas, highlighting intertribal contacts, relations with national society, the weight of the environment and linguistic connections, in addition to considering an updated time frame (last 50 years).

In practice, Melatti kept Galvão’s outline very close, but reinterpreted it critically: he emphasized networks of social articulation rather than cultural uniformity and suggested the inclusion of urban centers as poles of indigenous attraction, capable of articulating different peoples. Thus, the update based on the Galvão map marks a transition from the diffusionist approach to a more relational approach, which values the contemporary social dynamics of indigenous peoples on the continent.

BRAZIL — INDIGENOUS LAND, A MULTILINGUAL TERRITORY

Do you know how many languages are spoken in the world? And how many languages are spoken in Brazil?

Linguistic diversity is both a fascinating and intriguing aspect of humanity’s cultural diversity. It is estimated that there are more than seven thousand languages spoken in the world today.

Brazil also has a great linguistic wealth. In addition to Brazilian Portuguese, Brazilian Sign Language, immigration and border languages and languages of African origin, the country stands out for the presence of indigenous languages – spoken and signed. It is estimated that today there are about 155 indigenous languages spoken by the original peoples in the country, distributed in 305 ethnic groups. This number may be even higher, considering the languages spoken by peoples in situations of isolation and/or in the process of resuming.

In the 2010 National Census, 274 indigenous languages cited by people who identified themselves as indigenous were counted. This total may include dialects of the same language mentioned as distinct languages, languages that have ceased to be spoken, or memory languages, which gives a larger dimension than the number of languages identified by strictly linguistic criteria.

On a global scale, Brazil stands out for the diversity of language families. There are at least 16 main linguistic groups in the country, with their respective subfamilies: Tupi and Macro-Jê, Arawak, Karib, Pano, Tukano, Arawá, Katukina, Txapakura, Nambikwara, Nadahup, Tikuna, Yanomami, Guaycuru, Bora and Múra, in addition to six isolated languages: Aikanã, Iranxe/Mky, Kanoé, Kwazá, Guató and Trumai.

Indigenous languages constitute an important part of our country’s intangible heritage, representing the cultures and worldviews of the original peoples that inhabit the territory. The Amazon is the region with the highest linguistic density in Brazil, housing more than 100 of the indigenous languages still spoken in Brazil.

The diversity of languages is also manifested in the different ways in which each one is organized, since each language has its own grammar. Sound systems, word structure, and the way words are combined in discourse vary from language to language and reflect the beauty and richness of each language. Some languages have sounds that other languages don’t. Several indigenous languages spoken in Brazil have the vowel [i], which does not exist in Portuguese. In the Guajá language, spoken by the Awa Guajá people in the state of Maranhão, this vowel is present in the words kwarahy (sun) and jahy (moon), for example. In the language of the Sakurabiat people from the state of Rondônia, there are several ways to say “good morning”. It is possible to greet someone when they wake up in at least three different ways, using the verbs ekwirikwap (dawn), epagap (wake up), and pera (wake up), according to the variety of the language spoken.

The presence of indigenous languages in Brazil is extensive and significant. They influenced the past – and still influence – the way we speak. The vocabulary of Brazilian Portuguese was profoundly enriched by words of indigenous origin.

Did you know that capybara, tatu, piranha, anteater, pirarucu, vulture, alligator, jabuticaba, açaí, Tucuman, Guaraná, cassava, pamonha, popcorn, paçoca, Beiju, Carioca, Carioca, Ipanema, Ibirapuera, Paraná and many others are words borrowed from several indigenous languages spoken in Brazil?

There are hundreds of words that name elements of nature, especially Brazilian fauna and flora, in addition to toponyms, food names and so many other expressions that originate in the traditional languages of the original peoples. Even other languages in the world were influenced and enriched by words that originated in the indigenous languages of Brazil. In English, jaguar (jaguar) and tapir (tapir) are examples of words borrowed from languages of the Tupi-Guarani family.

However, these languages, which represent an important part of the linguistic and cultural heritage of humanity, are threatened as a result of historical processes of exploration, social pressure and the consequent decrease in the number of speakers, in addition to the restriction of their spaces of use. To get an idea of the weight of the historical silencing imposed on original languages, it is estimated that about 80% of Brazil’s native cultural, ethnic, and linguistic diversity has been lost since the European invasion.

And with each silenced language, we all lose, because the language of each people codifies the knowledge produced and elaborated, carrying within itself a universe of possibilities for the manifestation of that knowledge in all areas of life. Indigenous knowledge is essential to face the contemporary challenges that affect everyone, such as the climate emergency and its consequences. Through the languages of each people, fundamental knowledge is transmitted about the relationship of indigenous peoples with the forest and the conditions necessary to guarantee the survival of all.

For indigenous languages to remain alive and used by their speaking communities, as channels for the expression of their identities and worldviews, we must fight for the respect and protection of the lives of the peoples who speak them. After all, if the language is alive, it is because it has speakers.

ANA VILACY GALUCIO
Emilio Goeldi Paraense Museum

Belém, July 2025

MAP OF INDIGENOUS LANGUAGES IN BRAZIL

This map shows all the indigenous languages still spoken in the country, in addition to many well-known languages that are no longer used. The material highlights the critical situation of these languages, many of which have ceased to be transmitted to new generations and are at risk of disappearing in the coming decades. The loss of a language also represents the loss of knowledge and unique ways of understanding the world

.

The map was prepared using data from Glottolog (Hammarström et al., 2025), supplemented by the Linguistics team from the Museu Paraense Emílio Goeldi/MCTI, especially Sebastian Drude and Ana Vilacy Galúcio, who standardized names, improved locations and updated information on the number of speakers.

Data from the Endangered Languages Project (ELCAT), the Ethnologue and the Encyclopedia of Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (PIB), from the Socio-Environmental Institute (ISA) were also used, with special attention to the languages of border regions represented within the Brazilian territory.

References:
CATALOGUE OF ENDANGERED LANGUAGES (ELCAT). Catalogue of Endangered Languages. University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, 2024.
EBERHARD, David M.; SIMONS, Gary F.; FENNIG, Charles D. (eds.). Ethnologue: Languages of the World. 28. ed. Dallas, Texas: SIL International, 2025.
HAMMARSTRÖM, Harald; FORKEL, Robert; HASPELMATH, Martin; BANK, Sebastian. Glottolog 5.2. Leipzig: Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, 2025.
INDIGENOUS PEOPLES IN BRAZIL (GDP). Indigenous Peoples in Brazil. Socio-Environmental Institute, 2025.

Greetings in indigenous languages spoken by indigenous peoples in Brazil

YUDJA LANGUAGE

(JURUNA FAMILY, TUPI TRUNK)
Wabbi love?
Are you all right?

(Female speech)

Well, oh my.
Yes, I’m fine.

(Male speech)

Oh, oh my, oh my.
Yes, I’m fine.

SAKURABIAT

(TUPARI FAMILY, TUPI TRUNK)
Eekwirikwap sameń ka eñt?

Did you wake up well?

Ke õt. Oekwirikwap same ka õt.

Yes, I woke up well.

Pear it’s not going to be there?

Good morning!

Lit.: Did you wake up?

Pera ke õt.

Good morning!

Lit.: I woke up.

BORORO

(BORORO FAMILY, MACRO-Jê TRUNK)
Append?

Are you all right?

Hype and employ.

I’m fine.

Akaregodu takes care of it.

Welcome.

Lit.: You came in well.

YAWALAPITI

(ARUÁK FAMILY)
Kuka Hitchuti!

Good morning!

Lit.: Have you woken up yet?

KUBEO

(TUKANO FAMILY)
(Female speech)

Meakorü?

Are you all right?

(Male speech)

Meakürü?

Are you all right?

Meawü

I’m fine.

Koedakorü?

Good morning!

Lit.: Are you waking up?

Koedawü.

Good morning!

Lit.: I’m waking up.

TRADITION AND INNOVATION

Tradition and innovation are not antagonistic. On the contrary, they are equivalent, intertwined, circular systems, driven by the light of memories, present practices, and traces of what is to come. When we listen to the original peoples of Brazil, we learn that tradition and innovation are essentially proactive ways of knowing, the origins of traditional and scientific knowledge practiced on a daily basis, supported by the earth and accessible to those who have learned to inhabit it.

These systems don’t fit into a linear division of time – past, present, and future. Time is one: non-linear.

The works of art exhibited in Brazil: Indigenous Land tell stories, crystallize images that act as keys to understanding this common time, in which memory remains dynamic, in constant reinvention, reordering the flows of events. When we contemplate baskets, necklaces, bows and arrows, paintings, photographs, or maps, we observe that all remain present. It doesn’t matter when they were created: these works and their technologies are unveiled in the space-time of now, at the same time that they constitute the past and present clues to future ancestors.

In the artistic production presented here, language produces like the earth, weaves like artisans, and gains new meanings and meanings in relations with those who allow themselves to be crossed by it.

In this journey, the flow of events – over the thousands of years in which the original peoples occupied these lands – is organized by, and at the same time organizes, senses. On each historical track, we observe, over the passage of time, processes safeguarded by generations; and, at the same time, we are permeated by multiple eyes and voices – from photographs, paintings, social networks and marches – that call for collective innovations.

Each platform — audiovisual, music, photography, painting — is a countercolonization movement: a call to non-indigenous society to eliminate racism, to move memories, thoughts, practices and, above all, to allow itself to be reforested by them.

Luciana Gondim
Vale Cultural Institute

Rio de Janeiro, September 2025

Anti-Mickey

Be marginal
Be a hero
Hélio Oiticica

The human being is devoid of everything. Unlike other beings, who are born ready and endlessly perpetuated by the natural order of the species, the human being is powerless in the face of nature. Faced with everyday life, faced with the land that claims its existence, it designs methods to control destiny. Obiectum, for the Romans, was something that was in the middle of the road, an obstacle. For a stone, another stone, I would say Cora Coralina, who put them all together, made stairs. Humans create things that, when placed before themselves and others, such as obstacles, help to overcome other obstacles. It is the eternal movement of desecrating for use, turning a stone into a step, giving a name, surname, and predicate. Through language, its greatest determinant, humans fill objects with meanings, and then, from trick to trick, from crutch to crutch, they build the mediated world that is known.

Although the subject-object articulation is intrinsic to the human condition, it does not occur in the same way by all parties. After all, the commitment that communities and societies assume to themselves in relation to the whole, to the other and to the individual, has been designated in a different way, even though human problems share the same basis. For each part, the configuration between the subjects and what they oppose was bathed in disparate narratives, in which desire and self-image composed distinct social devices. Some focused on the object and its subjectivation, concerned with its own centrality; others opted for the constant urgent response to the uses, concerned with what is surrounding it. Thus, it is not to every reality that Western coherence and morality apply, based on Economics, History, Education, Art and every institutional apparatus. Nor is the difference between treating objects in the world a sign of progress, level of civilization, lower or greater progress. Today, it is read in global consciousness from the hegemonic perspective of the institution. To understand the meaning of “autonomy” of the original peoples, however, it is essential to separate ourselves from this narrow reading. In the end, what everyone aspires is to be autonomous, because that is the only possibility of significance in life.

In the case of the colonizer, the objects and gestures ceased to mean by themselves. They were abstracted and transformed into idols. In addition to the immediate response to need, in the Western capitalist world, things were converted into vehicles for the creation of new unnecessary needs, Art by Art. Since the Renaissance, at least, humanity has been addicted, not to the problem of existence itself, but to the infinite and particular ways of solving it and thus producing accumulation. In this way, alienation from desire and death are generated.

If the indigenous people paint themselves as jaguars, it is because of feline strength, or because of human fear. If they wear feathers and beads, it is to communicate their existence, to signify the party, to mark the important rites of life. If they sing the birdsong, it is because they are the ones who teach them, not only through mystery, but simply because they mean as such, to those who appropriate their song for the purpose of the invention. The bird only exists because another bird is invented about its song.

The Ka`apor’s hummingbird-shaped lip feather is more real than the hummingbird itself. Thus, indigenous creation is religious, because it keeps the instances separate, constantly revising the limits of those who emit and those who receive, of the “me” and the “other”, of utility and uselessness, whether animal or object, pointing to the survival, in the superspecular sense, of those who share the same culture. The fascination with the Portuguese mirror certainly didn’t last long. Things aren’t just about you. The goal is infinity for community values, in contrast to the individually signed Western finitude: autonomy vs. heteronomy — dependence and submission.

This is the reason for the widespread hatred against indigenous people; this hatred that has since justified the marginalization and genocide of entire communities, on all sides and sides: A-U-T-O-N-O-M-I-A. Freedom from autonomy is impossible in the white capitalist world, as it erodes and destroys it. To have autonomy, things, beings, elements, stones must be in their precise place, and the agglutinating center must be the time of life, creative in its breadth. The time of life is not exchanged, it is not sold, it is not replaced. For this reason, it is common to hear what an indigenous place is in the village; that the original peoples are against progress; what Indian who is an Indian does not use a cell phone, does not wear a branded shirt, does not drive a car, does not live in the city: stay out!

Naive and perverse are those who think that today’s indigenous people are the same as they were 500 years ago, since the discovery of the Americas. Naive, when he disregards the human capacity to create his own time, and perverse, to keep that element of humanity only to himself: I am the human who determines the air of the times, and that’s all! Localizing and fixing things and men in a given period of time is the work of history and is usually how the device of marginalization and alienation of others, other than me, is created that I write. Well: misunderstanding! Docile bodies? Never! — They shout at the original peoples in all their cultural expression. The proof of this is the way to integrate, in its fair measure, everything that the white world makes them swallow down their throats: Nike belt; Corinthians or Flamengo earring, you can choose; Smile collar, Round 6, Angry Birds… All of this could serve as a replacement mirror, but not! They are all made of beads, beads, feathers, made from autonomous knowledge and indigenous ancestors. Many purists will say it’s the original culture fading away! Just not again! On the contrary, it is the maintenance of autonomy, of the creative place of producing everyday life, of affirming: I exist! Mickey could be plush, those that are won in a raffle or bought cheaply in the markets. No! It’s made from seeds, made by a lady Krikati, who wanted to make Mickey! Not even Mickey, he is! It’s Mickey-Marginal, Mickey-Standalone: Anti-Mickey, as well as Oiticica’s antihero; as well as Gramsci’s counterculture.

We must not forget that the margins are contours. The center is only possible through them. If the place to maintain autonomy is the margin: be marginal, be hero. Contrary to the historical denial of rights, this means the survival of the world. From the center, she won’t come! Let the margins then be the new centers. It is through them that one begins and ends reading. It is because of them that the pages were turned, in order to be able to dream in peace.

Gabriel Gutierrez
Vale Cultural Institute

São Luís, August 2023

RESUMED

One of the most powerful political phenomena that we can witness today in Brazil are the indigenous resumption. Born of resistance to colonial violence, they challenge a series of ideas and structures with deep roots in Brazilian society – regarding identity, relationship with the land, and with the country’s history.

Since the beginning of colonization, two attitudes have coexisted in a contradictory way. On the one hand, the official recognition that the true owners of the land have always been the indigenous peoples; on the other, brutal violence directed at them. This contradiction was – and continues to be – exploited by the colonizers and their heirs to steal and expel indigenous peoples from their lands, using different strategies. One of the most perverse is to deny the very existence of these peoples: if the true owners of the land do not exist, those lands are free for those who wish to take them.

The means used for this denial – another name for genocide – range from the simple decree of the extinction of peoples (by legislators, specialists allied to the colonial project, or by State officials), to the allegation of falsehood of the identity of indigenous people and communities, or even direct extermination.

Many genocide technologies have been developed in the country. One of them was slavery; another, religious missions, aimed at combating the cultures and forms of organization of indigenous societies. To eliminate languages, they were forbidden to be spoken, and schools imposed Portuguese and the myth of Brazilian monolingualism. The guardianship of official indigenism was responsible for confronting autonomous organizations. The sciences, the laws, and the media have fueled racism for centuries.

The resumption is testimony to the resistance and a direct challenge to that history. They can be understood as a strategy for the struggle of indigenous peoples for the recognition of their territorial rights. The indigenous communities that had their territories taken in the past, aware of their identity and their connection with them, reoccupy these lands as a way of pressuring the State for the official recognition of their rights over them.

In the Federal Constitution of 1988, the Brazilian State recognized indigenous peoples the rights to “their social organization, customs, languages, beliefs and traditions, and the original rights over the lands they traditionally occupy, and the Union is responsible for demarcating them, protecting and ensuring respect for all their assets”. The fact that the right to land is original means that it supersedes other rights established after the traditional occupation, such as the ownership of third parties. What State procedures do, therefore, is not to create indigenous lands, but to officially recognize their existence.

These procedures, however, have been slow and insufficient. The Constitution set a five-year deadline for the completion of the processes for the demarcation of indigenous lands, but 37 years after its enactment, we are still a long way from that.

As a result, thousands of indigenous people remain in the midst of land conflicts, subject to violence from individuals and the State itself, victims of abuse and prevented from living with security and dignity in their territories.

Occupying the land to which one is entitled and defending it with one’s own body is, therefore, a way of forcing the State to comply with the law.

The indigenous struggle for land, however, has implications beyond the land issue. At the same time that the land belongs to the indigenous people, they also belong to the land. What is resumed, then, are the conditions of existence.

If the national ideology projected a future in which indigenous peoples would be extinct or diluted with the rest of the population, reduced to poor workers and separated from the land, the resumption shows that this project did not succeed. With the strength of the memory of resistance, they reveal another Brazil, and another world, that has always been and continues to be possible.

The resumption seeks to recover the conditions to recreate kinship relationships, practice and transmit traditions, access water, have the autonomy to eat well, protect and live with the beings that inhabit nature and the cosmos, perform their rituals, relate to the supernatural world, organize themselves autonomously and walk where their ancestors walked.

There is much to be taken up again: the recognition of the right to one’s own existence, the right to a name, the right to language, the right to memory, the right to self-determination, and the right to justice. These are some of the possible meanings of a resumption.

The resumptions, therefore, go beyond the official recognition of the land, since they do not begin or end in it. They can be in the countryside, in cities, in forests, and anywhere where indigenous peoples resist. Today, there are resumptions spread across all regions of the country.

The resumptions also allow communities to organize and strengthen themselves, and for their members to live fully as part of them. They are also fundamental bases for claiming rights and access to public services, such as specific health and education, in addition to the right to free, prior and informed consultation about actions affecting indigenous communities.

Contemporary Brazil is witnessing an offensive against indigenous rights, accompanied by violence against its territories, communities, and leaders. The Time Frame, transformed into law, for example, attempts to reward genocide and the oblivion of who the true owners of the land are. If the colonial war continues, the resistance also persists.

The resumption challenges us to imagine another country and to join its struggle. They show, with their feet on the ground, that the story that Brazil tells of itself, based on the conquest of the land and the peoples, is false, and that reparation is urgent.

Guilherme Ramos Cardoso
Anthropologist and indigenist

São Luís, October 2025

THE CALL OF THE TUPINAMBÁ MANTLE

A feathered cloak, an invisible object exiled to a distant country, became the symbol of the spiritual, cultural and territorial reconquest of people living in the Tupinambá de Olivença Indigenous Territory, in southern Bahia.

The Rediscovery Exhibition — Brazil 500 Years, an event organized in São Paulo in the year 2000, made a decisive contribution to the process of recognizing the identity of the Tupinambá. A specific module – Indigenous Arts – presented artifacts from numerous peoples, including, in a prominent place, an ancient cloak made by the Tupinambá with red feathers of the guará bird, tied by fiber cords and surmounted by a bundle of yellow feathers from Japan.

This feathered robe and Caminha’s letter were chosen by the visiting public as their favorite works, defined as “two historical relics produced in Brazil that are kept abroad”, which emphasized the historical revelation provided by the event.

The cloaks and tablecloths associated with the Brazilian Tupinambá were taken to museums in France, Italy, Switzerland, Belgium, and Denmark. The copy collected in 1575 by André Thévet, who described it as a “rare and unique” object, is in a French museum; those found in Italy belonged to the Medici family.

The cloaks preserved in Denmark’s Nationalmuseet probably left Brazil in 1644, led by Prince Johan Maurits van Nassau-Siegen, who played an important role during the Dutch occupation. This and 15 other feather ornaments from indigenous peoples of Pernambuco arrived, as a gift from Nassau, at the hands of King Frederik III of Denmark, who incorporated them into the Royal Kunstkammer, where they were inventoried in 1674.

At the Rediscovery Exhibition, the feathered mantle of the Danish museum was contemplated by numerous visitors – and, in particular, by a couple of indigenous leaders from southern Bahia. This artifact was revealed to these leaders as a living document of a shared past of aesthetic refinement, resulting in a decisive cultural (re) knowledge to confirm a Tupinambá identity.

The possession of the cloak then became imperative—a form of visual reiteration of that identity and of broadening the horizons of political action of the indigenous peoples of southern Bahia.

Recently, the leading figure of this movement is Glicéria Tupinambá, engaged in political actions to recognize the rights of the indigenous peoples of southern Bahia, who have long been invisible on the national scene. Her first encounter with the feathered cloak occurred in 2018, during a visit to a French museum, which she defined as the place where “Tupinambá objects sleep”.

This experience resulted in “a call” because, in the words of Glicéria, the mantle “began to guide her steps and her words”.

Since then, his work has expanded the evidence of a deep bond between the Tupinambá people and the objects they created – pieces that remain distant, kept in museum collections in former colonizing countries.

Invoking the powerful enchanted beings, Glicéria Tupinambá visits the technical reserves of European institutions, presents hypotheses about the uses and exchange circuits of cloaks, and reinvents new debates, very different from those held four centuries ago in European curiosity offices.

As a result of the actions of the Tupinambá de Olivença, a movement to repatriate the Tupinambá mantle to Brazil was triggered by different actors. In 2022, an official request from the National Museum/UFRJ and the Tupinambá chiefs was forwarded to the National Museum of Denmark. A year later, the Danish Culture Minister signed a repatriation agreement: – an unexpected turnaround. The cloak arrived in Brazil in September 2024, shrouded in the secrets of those negotiations, and was destined for the National Museum in Rio de Janeiro.

The (re) encounter of the Tupinambá peoples with their feathered cloaks revealed a past of cultural strength, a fact that is amplified every day, with new discoveries. The symbolic action of this artifact goes beyond its material aspect: it bears witness to the complex relationships established since the historical formation of the Brazilian State, in the colonial period, and reveals multiple memories evoked and reinterpreted in indigenous narratives and rituals.

Currently, relations between indigenous peoples and the collections of Brazilian and European museums have expanded the political dimensions linked to the preservation of their cultural heritage. The awareness of the maintenance of a differentiated material culture constitutes a mark of the ethnic resistance movement: a sign of the autonomy to be regained.

These considerations make it evident that, increasingly, indigenous peoples assert themselves as the main stakeholders in safeguarding the heritage under the custody of museums, as well as in the creation of mechanisms for identifying, accessing, and reappropriating their cultural assets preserved in those institutions.

Lucia Hussak Van Velthem
Emilio Goeldi Paraense Museum

Belém, July 2025

References:
Robert, P. de; Thierion, B. Du rouge au brun, des curiositez aux musealias: récit d’un retour au pays natal ou la revanche des invisibles. Les invisibles du patrimoine. In Situ – Revue des Patrimoines, 2025 (in press).
Velthem, L. H. van. Museums, collections and “rare and unique objects”. In: Delgado Vieira, A.C.; Cury, M.X. (orgs). Indigenous cultures in Brazil and the Harald Schultz collection. São Paulo: SESC São Paulo Editions, 2021

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Original Peoples Musical Instruments: Activators of Relations Between Worlds

For indigenous peoples, sound instruments are living objects, charged with history, meaning, and power. They are the foundations of existence. They are the voice of the forest, the call of the ancestors, and the heart of rituals and everyday life. Whenever music is played in an indigenous society, an event takes place, not only because of the depth and multiplicity of its meanings, but also because of the social processes that indigenous people believe are taking place on those occasions.

Music – woven by structures of sound and time – is generally considered by indigenous people to be a fundamental part of their lives.

The choice of a wood, a gourd, a type of bamboo or a seed is not random: it follows ancient knowledge that explains the very origin of the world. A whistle can reproduce the song of a bird; the sound of a maracá can help heal a person; a horn summons the community; a drum communicates news between villages; a whirring sounds away unwanted spirits; and a flute can carry the voice of invisible beings.

What we relegate to a secondary and optional plan occupies a central place in the perception of indigenous groups, playing a formative role in the social experience, constitute an essential part of livelihood activities and guarantee social and cosmological continuity.

A LIVING CULTURAL HERITAGE

Behind each instrument there is a people, a culture, and a unique cosmology. The names and their spellings vary from one people to another, reflecting the richness and diversity of these traditions. Each instrument is more than an object: it is a testimony to the resistance and deep connection of the original peoples with the universe.

The use of these instruments follows precise rules. Some can be touched by everyone, while others are reserved for specialists, leaders, or shamans. The large Uruá flute, for example – which can reach about two meters in length – is played only by a group of Xingu men to ward off evil spirits before the Kuarup. In certain rituals, instruments are discarded after fulfilling their function as a bridge between worlds, as it is believed that energies reside in them that should not remain in the village.

The moment of making the instruments also follows the cycles of nature. The materials are collected in certain seasons or phases of the moon, according to the knowledge that guides the right time of each gesture.

It is essential to note that the tuning of these instruments often distances itself from the temperate Western system, inviting us to other modes of listening and perception.

WIND INSTRUMENTS

Wind instruments occupy a central place in the lives of indigenous peoples, as they connect sound to the invisible world. Breath is understood as the vital spirit that animates matter. Sound is the voice of ancestors speaking directly, the lament of a warrior, the song of seduction of a young man, or the melody that mimics the singing of birds, beings that, for many cultures, act as messengers between heaven and earth.

– Flutes: From the long and solemn Taquaras of the Xingu to the Japurutu of the peoples of Rio Negro and the ethereal flutes of the Wayana. Made of bone, wood or taquara, they present a variety of shapes that generate unique sounds, connecting to different dimensions of the invisible.

– Horns: made with a gourd on the tip, ceramic, animal skull, tattoo tail, or animal horns, many of them used to call the community for daily activities. Among them, the Telefone-Buzina by Huni-Kuin stands out, made with a tattoo tail and decorated with paintings from the Mahku (Movement of Huni-Kuin Artists), in which sound and visual art come together as an expression of identity and territory.

PERCUSSION INSTRUMENTS

The main function of percussion instruments is to mark the pulse that conducts different activities, from everyday dances to more sacred rituals.

– Maracás: Of unique ritual importance, they are known by various names among indigenous peoples. In the hands of a shaman, they become tools for healing and spiritual navigation. Its rhythmic sound evokes the serpent that creeps, the rain that falls or the buzz of insects in the night, weaving a transformative soundscape.

– Drums: Made of tracajá carapaca, wood, leather or ceramic, the drums invite the community and also entertain people.

– Rhythm Sticks: Traditional ceremonial instruments of the peoples of Rio Negro are struck against the ground by leaders to mark the transitions and phases of the rituals. They work like a sacred metronome.

– Rattles: They have a wide variety of shapes – spinneret, rod, globular, tubular – and produce sound from the movement of the body. Among them, the rainwood, which pierces seeds with chopsticks, reproducing the serene sound of water, is an essential presence in several rituals.

STRINGED INSTRUMENTS

Although rarer, string instruments reveal indigenous peoples’ capacity for cultural incorporation and resignification, serving both celebration and spirituality.

– Rabeca (Ravé): Incorporated and transformed by the Guarani Mbyá, the rabeca – an instrument with rubbed strings – gained a new tuning and a profound spiritual function, accompanying the dances of young people and children, connecting them to the Guarani worldview.

– Boca bows: One of the oldest instruments in humanity, the mouth bows have a single string, vibrated and modulated by the player’s mouth. The body becomes the living sounding board, producing subtle and hypnotic sounds that speak directly to the soul.

These instruments are therefore mediators: they create invisible bridges between worlds. They don’t “produce music” in the Western sense, they activate relationships. Through them, humans dialogue with their ancestors, interact with forest spirits, and reaffirm the cosmic order. Its sounds weave reality, maintaining harmony between the visible and the invisible world, removing the imbalance.

Magda Pucci
São Paulo, October 2025

ACRE
The name “Acre” has different versions regarding its etymological origin. One of the best known suggests that it derives from “Aquiry”, a term from the indigenous language of the Apurinã people, which means “alligator river”. The state is home to a rich indigenous diversity, including several isolated peoples, and it is estimated that more than twenty different ethnicities are present in its territory. According to the 2022 IBGE Demographic Census, Acre has an indigenous population of 31,694 people, 61.79% of whom live on indigenous land. Among the main linguistic trunks found in the region are Pano, Aruak, and Arawá, which encompass different traditional languages and cultures. Currently, the state has 35 indigenous territories recognized by the federal government, although only 24 are officially regulated or in more advanced stages of demarcation. Acre also stands out for its intense cultural and linguistic exchange with indigenous Peruvian peoples.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Arara do Rio Amônia (Arara Apolima), Arara Shawadawa (Shawanaua), Ashaninka (Ashenika), Kaxinawa (Huni Kuin), Katukina Pano, Kulina (Madiha), Kuntanawa, Manchineri (Yine), Mashco-Piro (Harakmbut), Nawa, Nukini, Puyanawa, Shanenawa, Warao, Yaminawa, Yawanawa and Yura.

Sources:
Acre Pro-Indigenous Commission (CPI-ACRE); Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

AMAZONS

The name “Amazonas” was given by European colonizers in reference to the female warriors of Greek mythology, the Amazons, in reference to the indigenous women warriors found in the region during the first contacts with the invaders. The Amazon is home to at least 77 indigenous ethnic groups, being the state with the largest indigenous population in Brazil. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, 490,935 people are self-declared indigenous, although only 30.4% live on officially recognized indigenous lands. Several indigenous cultural areas are located in the state, reflecting an impressive diversity. The state is home to languages belonging to various families and trunks, among which the following stand out: Nadahup, Tukano, Aruak, Tikuna-Yuri, Katukina, Tupi, Mura, Pano, Arawá and Karib. As for indigenous territories, the Amazon has about 182 lands at different stages of the demarcation process. Of these, 150 are in more advanced stages, while 32 are still in the early stages of study and identification.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Apurinã (Popular), Arapaso, Banawá, Baniwa (Walimanai), Bara, Barasana (Panenoah), Baré, Dâw, Deni (Jamamadi), Desana, Hi-merimã, Hixkaryana, Hupda (Hupd’äh), Jarawara, Jiahui (Kagwaniwa), Juma, Kaixana, Kambaba, Kanamari, Karafawyana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Katawixi, Karapan, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karafawyana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karafawyana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karafawyana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karafawyana, Karapana, Karapana, Karapana, Karafawyana, Karapan Katuenayana (Katuwena), Katukina, Katukina do Rio Biá, Kaxarari, Kaxuyana, Kokama, Koripako, Korubo, Kubeo, Kulina (Madiha), Kulina Pano, Macuxi (Pemon), Maku, Makuna, Makurap, Maragua, Marubo, Matis, Matsés, Mirinha, Mirity-tapuya, Munduruku (Wuyjuyu), Mura, Nadöb, Okoymoyana, Intintin, Paumari ( Pamoari), Pira-tapuya (Waíkhana), Pirahã (Hiaitsiihi), Sateré Mawé, Sikiyana, Siriano, Tariana, Tenharim (Kagwahiva), Ticuna (Maguta), Torah, Tsohom-dyapa (Tyohom-dyapa), Tukano (Ye’pâ-masa), Tunayana, Tuyuka (Utapinopona), Waimiri Atroari (Kinja), Waiwai, Wanana Tiria), Warao, Warekena, Witoto, Xereu, Xowyana, Yaminawá, Yanomami (Yanomami Ninam, Yanomami Sanōma, Yanomami Yãnoma, Yanomami Yanomám, Yanomami Yanonami and Yanomami aroamë), Ye’kwana (Soto), Yuhupdëh and Zuruahã (Suruwaha).

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

RONDÔNIA

The state is home to more than forty indigenous ethnicities, including isolated peoples. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, the indigenous population of Rondônia is 21,153 people, distributed across 52 municipalities, about 70% of whom live in urban areas. Three important indigenous lands stand out: Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau, Rio Guaporé and Rio Branco. The Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau IT, the largest in the state, covers about 1.8 million hectares and is home to nine peoples. TI Rio Guaporé is inhabited by ten ethnic groups, who share practices such as the Corn Chicha Festival and the ritual use of angico snuff. TI Rio Branco brings together nine ethnic groups and 33 villages, and was demarcated after intense mobilizations in the 1990s. Rondônia has about 24 demarcated indigenous lands, and others await recognition. The state is home to languages from the Tupi, Macro-Jê, Aruák, Txapakura, and Nambikwara trunks, as well as isolated languages such as Aikanã, Kanoé, and Kwazá.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Aikanã (Aikaná), Akuntsu, Amondawa, Apurinã (Popular), Arikapú, Aruá, Cinta Larga (Matetamãe), Djeoromitxí, Guarasugwe, Ikolen/Gavião de Rondônia (Digut), Juma, Kampé, Kanoê, Karipuna de Rondônia (Ahé), Karitiana (Yjxa), Karo (I’târap), Kassupá, Kawahiva, Kaxarari, Kujubim (Towa Panka), Kwazá, Laiana, Makurap, Migueleno, Nambikwara Latundê, Nambikwara Sabanê, Oro Win (Oro Towati’), Puruborá, Sakurabiat, Suruí de Rondônia (Paiter), Tanaru, Terena, Tupaiu, Tupari, Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau (Jupaú), Wajuru, Warao, Wari’/Pakaa Nova, Yraparariquara and Zoró.

Sources:
Indigenous Missionary Council (CIMI); Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

TOCANTINS

The indigenous roots of the state of Tocantins are already present in its own name. “Tocantins” derives from the Tupi expression “Tuká-tin”, which means “toucan beak” (“tukã” = toucan; “tin” = beak). The state is home to the largest river island in the world, Bananal Island, a territory historically inhabited by several indigenous ethnicities, such as the Javaé and the Karajá. The island has always been a traditional migration and occupation route for different peoples, playing a central role in the region’s indigenous history. The territorial protection of Bananal Island began in the late 1950s, with the creation of public policies and demarcation processes over the following decades. These actions were essential to guarantee the physical and cultural survival of the indigenous peoples who live there. In the interior of the island is the Araguaia Indigenous Park, which concentrates most of the state’s indigenous population. Currently, at least twelve ethnic groups inhabit the territory of Tocantins. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, Tocantins has 20,023 indigenous people, of whom 15,213 live on indigenous lands. As a result, the state is the second in Brazil with the highest percentage of indigenous people residing in officially recognized areas. The indigenous languages spoken in the state belong mainly to two linguistic trunks: Tupi and Macro-Jê.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Apinayé, Avá-Canoeiro (Ãwa), Guarani Mbya, Isolated from Bananal Island, Javaé (Itya Mahãdu), Karajá (Iny), Karajá do Norte, Krahô (Mehin), Krahô-Kanela, Pankararu, Tapirapé (Apyãwa), Warao and Xerente (Akwê).

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

BAHIA

The state is home to the largest indigenous population in the Northeast and the second largest in Brazil, with 229,103 indigenous people, according to the 2022 Demographic Census. Currently, at least twenty indigenous ethnic groups are recognized in the state, such as Pataxó, Tupinambá, Tuxá, Kiriri, Kaimbé, Xukuru-Kariri, Pankararé, Atikum, and others. However, this number may be even higher, considering the large number of indigenous people living in urban settings, often outside officially recognized Indigenous Lands. The indigenous languages present in Bahia belong mainly to two major linguistic trunks: Macro-Jê and Tupi. The Macro-Jê trunk encompasses the ancient languages of peoples such as Kiriri, Pankararé, and Kaimbé, while the Tupi trunk is represented, for example, by the Tupinambá people, whose traditional language, Old Tupinambá (from the Tupi-Guarani family), was widely spoken before colonization. Although many of these languages have been lost as mother tongues, several communities are currently engaged in processes of linguistic revitalization. A notable example is Patxohã, a reconstructed language used by Pataxó communities in educational and cultural projects.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Atikum, Fulni-ô, Guerém, Kaimbé, Kantaruré, Kariri-Xokó, Kiriri, Pankararu, Pankaru, Pataxó, Pataxó, Pataxó Hã-Hãe, Payayá, Truká, Truká Camixa, Tumbalalá, Tupinambá, Tupinambá de Olivença, Tuxá, Warao and Xukuru-Kariri

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

MARANHÃO

The name “Maranhão” originates from the Tupi language and means “flowing sea” or “flowing river”, formed by the combination of the terms “sea” (possibly derived from “mbará” or “pará”, meaning sea or big river) and “nhã”, which refers to the idea of a stream. Currently, about 20 indigenous ethnic groups inhabit the state, totaling a population of 57,214 people, according to the 2022 IBGE Census, of which 72.93% live on indigenous lands. One of the main cultural areas in Maranhão is located in the center-southwest region, which contains the largest number of indigenous lands in the state. In this area live peoples such as the Krikati, the Canela (Apanyekra and Ramkokamekra), the Hawkeye (Parkatêjê and Kyikatejê), among others, who belong mainly to the Tupi and Macro-Jê linguistic trunks. The languages most present among these peoples belong mainly to these two trunks, also reflecting the historical and cultural diversity of the region.. According to the Socio-Environmental Institute (ISA), Maranhão has about 23 indigenous lands at different stages of the demarcation process: 19 are in more advanced stages and 4 are still in the early stages of study and identification.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Akroá Gamella, Anapuru Muypurá, Awá Guajá, Canela Apanyekra, Canela Ramkokamekra (Memortumré), Gavião Kyikatejê, Gavião Pykopjê (Pykopcatejê), Guajajara (Tenetehara), Ka’apor, Kariú-Kariri, Krenyê, Krepun Katejê, Krikatí (Kricatijê), Tembé (Tenetehara), Timbira, Tremembé da Raposa, Membé do Engenho, Tupinambá and Warao.

Sources:
Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA); Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE).

PERNAMBUCO

Although the origin of the name Pernambuco is disputed, the best-known hypothesis associates it with terms from the Tupi-Guarani language. It possibly derives from the combination of “para” or “para’”, which can mean “sea” or “great river”, with “buká”, which refers to the idea of “hole” or “cleft”. This combination would have described a specific point on the coast where the sea opens up, such as in the reef cracks between Olinda and Recife or the Santa Cruz Canal. The state is home to a rich indigenous presence, but the number of ethnicities is imprecise, especially given the indigenous populations that live in urban contexts, outside villages and demarcated land. Many ethnicities are present in the Recife Metropolitan Region, even without officially recognized territories. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, the state has 106,412 indigenous people. Of these, only 34,287 live on indigenous lands; the majority (72,125 people) live outside those territories. As far as indigenous languages are concerned, the most prominent and still widely spoken is Yaathe, preserved by the Fulni-ô people. Pernambuco has languages linked to the Macro-Jê, Tupi, and Pano linguistic trunks.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Atikum, Fulni-ô, Kambiwá, Kapinawa, Pankaiuká, Pankararu, Pankará, Pipipã, Potiguara, Truká, Tuxá, Warao and Xukuru.

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA); Network for Monitoring Indigenous Rights in Pernambuco (REMDIPE).

RIO GRANDE DO NORTE

Rio Grande do Norte is the only Brazilian state that does not yet have officially demarcated indigenous lands, despite the significant presence of indigenous communities in its territory. According to data from the 2022 IBGE Census, more than 11,000 indigenous people live in the state, between villages and non-villages. Even without formal territorial recognition, the state is home to a diversity of indigenous ethnicities, such as the Caboclos do Assu, Potiguara, Tapuia Paiacu, Tapuia Tarairiú, and Warao. This diversity is also reflected in the linguistic field: although the Tupi trunk is predominant, specific languages stand out, such as Brobo, still spoken by Tapuia Tarairiú groups. The history of Rio Grande do Norte is marked by strong processes of indigenous resistance dating back to the colonial period. However, these peoples remain historically invisible, with their territorial and cultural rights often neglected

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Caboclos do Assu, Potiguara, Tapuia Paiacu, Tapuia Tarairiú and Warao.

Sources:
Government of the State of Rio Grande do Norte; Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

GOIÁS AND THE FEDERAL DISTRICT

The name of the state is a direct reference to the Goyá ethnic group that originated in the Tupi “gwaya” (“similar individual” or “people like us”). However, the history of the Goyá people is marked by the scarcity of sources and records, the result of the violence and silencing imposed by colonialism. Currently, about six indigenous ethnic groups live in different municipalities in Goiás. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, Goiás is home to 19,571 indigenous people, 95.5% of whom reside in urban areas, this is the highest percentage of indigenous people living outside indigenous lands in Brazil. The main linguistic trunks present in the state are Tupi and Macro-Jê.

In the Federal District, there are currently no officially demarcated indigenous lands, although several ethnic groups occupied the region even before the founding of Brasília. Still, indigenous peoples maintain an active presence and cultural resistance, especially in urban areas. An emblematic example is the Pajés Sanctuary, located in the Northwest Sector of Brasilia. This urban indigenous territory is mainly inhabited by the Fulni-ô Tapuya, Guajajara, Kariri-Xokó, and Tupinambá peoples. The indigenous population of the Federal District, according to the 2022 IBGE Census, is 5,813 people, belonging to different ethnicities. The indigenous languages present in the region include languages from the Macro-Jê and Tupi trunks, reflecting the cultural and historical diversity of the peoples who live there.

The indigenous peoples present in Goiás are:
Avá-Canoeiro (Ãwa), Bororo (Boe), Karajá (Iny), Tapuio, Warao and Xavante (A’uwe).

The indigenous peoples present in the Federal District are:
Fulni-ô (Fulni-ô Tapuya), Guajajara (Tenetehara), Kariri-Xocó, Tupinambá, Tapuya, Tuxá, Warao, Xakriabá, Xavante (A’uwe) and Xerente (Akwê)

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA); Conflict Map – Oswaldo Cruz Foundation.

MATO GROSSO DO SUL

Mato Grosso do Sul is one of the Brazilian states with the greatest diversity and indigenous presence. According to the 2022 Census, the indigenous population in the state is 116,469 people, which represents the third largest in the country. Among these, 70,034 live on Indigenous Lands, while the rest are distributed in urban and rural areas outside those territories. At least eleven ethnic groups inhabit the state, including Guarani Kaiowá, Guarani Nhandeva, Terena, Kadiwéu, Ofaié, Kinikinau, Guató, and others. This diversity is also linguistic, with the presence of languages belonging to the Tupi, Aruak, Zamuco, Guaikuru and Macro-Jê trunks, which express the cultural richness of these peoples and their different forms of relationship with the territory and with the world. In addition to indigenous lands, it is also worth highlighting the existence of urban villages, such as Inamaty Kaxé, which demonstrate a new form of indigenous occupation in or near urban centers. These villages represent spaces of resistance and cultural affirmation, where indigenous peoples maintain their practices, languages, and ways of life, even in contexts of greater contact with non-indigenous society.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Atikum, Chamacoco, Guarani, Guarani Kaiowá, Guarani Ñandeva, Guató, Kambá, Kadiwéu, Kinikinau, Ofayé, Terena and Warao.

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

MINAS GERAIS

More than twenty ethnic groups inhabit the state, reflecting an ancient, continuous and deeply rooted presence in its territory and history. This plurality of peoples, with different cultures, languages, and ways of life, reveals the complexity and richness of the indigenous presence in Minas Gerais soil. According to the 2022 Demographic Census, the indigenous population in the state is 36,699 people. However, only 12,137 live on officially recognized Indigenous Lands, this number reveals the challenges faced by these peoples in accessing and recognizing their territories. The languages spoken belong mainly to the Macro-Jê and Tupi-Guarani linguistic trunks, including the Guarani language. Despite this cultural wealth, Minas Gerais currently has only 16 recognized Indigenous Lands. The majority of the indigenous population lives outside indigenous lands, in urban settings or in non-village areas.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Aranã, Avá-Canoeiro (Ãwa), Borum-Kren, Catu-Awa-Araxá, Guarani, Kamaká-Mongoió, Kambiwá, Karajá (Iny), Kaxixó, Kiriri, Krenak (Borum), Maxakali (Tikmu’un), Mukuriñ, Pankararu, Pataxó, Pataxó Há-Hãe, Puri, Tuxá, Warao, Xakriabá and Xukuru-Kariri.

Sources:
Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

SÃO PAULO

Several indigenous ethnicities are present in the state of São Paulo, reflecting a significant cultural plurality. This diversity is particularly evident in urban contexts, where many indigenous people live outside traditionally demarcated lands — a consequence of historical processes of displacement and migration. According to the 2022 IBGE Census, the state is home to 55,295 indigenous people, of whom 51,115 live in urban areas, outside villages. It is estimated that more than fifteen different ethnicities are represented in the state, belonging to three main linguistic trunks: Tupi, Macro-Jê, and Aruak. Currently, there are 38 identified indigenous territories in São Paulo. However, most of these are still in the process of demarcation. Despite the consolidated presence of several indigenous peoples in São Paulo territory, only the Piaçaguera Indigenous Land, located in the municipality of Peruíbe, has so far been officially approved and registered. Meanwhile, other lands such as TI Jaraguá, TI Peguaoty, TI Djaiko-aty, TI Amba Porã and Pindoty-Araça-Mirim have been in different stages of demarcation for years, facing bureaucratic obstacles and state omissions. São Paulo is marked by a great cultural diversity that is renewed daily by the resistance of countless indigenous peoples.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Atikum, Aymara, Fulni-ô, Guarani, Guarani, Guarani Kaiowá, Guarani Mbya, Guarani Ñandeva, Guarani, Tupi-Guarani, Kaingang (Kanhgág), Kariri-Xokó, Krenak (Borum), Pankararé, Pankararu, Potiguara, Puri, Terena and Warao.

Sources:
São Paulo Pro-Indian Commission; Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socioenvironmental Institute (ISA).

RIO GRANDE DO SUL

Rio Grande do Sul is a territory of rich indigenous diversity, with the presence of at least seven ethnic groups. Among them, the Charrua people stand out, an ancient people who, despite being considered extinct for a long time, are still alive through cultural resistance and the struggle for recognition. According to the 2022 Demographic Census (IBGE), the state is home to 36,096 indigenous people, of whom 25,705 live in villages. These communities are organized in about 150 villages, distributed across approximately 72 municipalities in Rio Grande do Sul. The main linguistic trunks present in the territory are Macro-Jê, Tupi-Guarani and Charrua, reflecting the cultural and historical diversity of the region’s original peoples. Currently, the state has almost 70 indigenous territories still in the process of recognition and demarcation. However, only 20 of these territories are officially regulated, evidencing the ongoing challenges in guaranteeing the territorial rights of indigenous peoples.

The indigenous peoples present in the state are:
Charrua; Guarani; Guarani Kaiowá; Guarani Mbya; Guarani Ñandeva; Kaingang (Kanhga); Warao and Xokleng (Laklan)

Sources:
Indigenous Articulation of Rio Grande do Sul; Association of Studies and Projects with Indigenous and Minority Peoples (AEPIM); Indigenous Missionary Council (CIMI); National Foundation of Indigenous Peoples (FUNAI); Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE); Socio-environmental Institute (ISA); Indigenous Health Care Information System of Rio Grande do Sul (SIASI-RS).