By Leonardo Boff and - -
RIO DE JANEIRO, Jan 5 2004 (IPS)

Walking down my street, where almost nothing even happens, I counted 58 dead beetles in just fifty meters. As we don\’t see ourselves in these our smaller brothers and sisters, we step on them and run them over with our cars. Were Saint Francis still alive he would weep with compassion, writes Leonardo Boff, a writer and theologian. In this article, Boff tells a myth of the Maue indians of Brazil. When the world was created there was no night. There was only day and light penetrated every space. The Maue, as much as they wanted to, couldn\’t sleep. They were always tired and their eyes hurt from too much light. One day, one of them got up his courage and went to talk to the Great Cobra, the sururiju, completely dark, which was considered the high master of the night. The Cobra agreed to make a deal: you give me poison and let me distribute it to my defenceless little relatives. This way you will watch where you\’re going and not step on the little creatures. They will be able to defend themselves. And in exchange I will give you a coconut full of night.\’\’ In the end they lived peacefully together and in mutual respect. Why is it that we big creatures don\’t look out for the small creatures?

Walking down my street, where almost nothing even happens, I counted 58 dead beetles in just fifty meters. As we don’t see ourselves in these our smaller brothers and sisters, we step on them and run them over with our cars. Were Saint Francis still alive he would weep with compassion. This reminded me of a beautiful myth of the Maue indians, who have a lot to teach us. The Maue are part of a cultural area that extends between the Tapajos and Madeira Rivers in Northeastern Brazil. We could all learn a few lessons from this tale, whether for the field of ecology or international politics.

The myth goes like this: when the world was created there was no night. There was only day and light penetrated every space. Only it didn’t reach the deep waters of the river. The Maue, as much as they wanted to, couldn’t sleep. They were always tired and their eyes hurt from too much light. One day, one of them got up his courage and went to talk to the Great Cobra, the sururiju, completely dark, which was considered the high master of the night. It was she that kept the night imprisoned in the depths of the river.

The Great Cobra heard the laments of the Indian and seeing his skin blackened by the scorching sun and his eyes red from too much light took pity on him. After weighing the possible risks, she proposed a pact: ”I am great and powerful. I can defend myself and need no one. But many of my relatives are small and defenceless. No one takes care of them, especially you who pitilessly trample and kill them as you walk around without looking. How can they defend themselves? Let’s make a deal: you give me poison and let me distribute it to my defenceless little relatives. This way you will watch where you’re going and not step on the little creatures. They will be able to defend themselves. And in exchange I will give you a coconut full of night.”

The Maue accepted the agreement. He ran to the forest and quickly returned with the poison for the Great Cobra, who in turn gave him the coconut full of night. As they exchanged their items, the Cobra made this recommendation to the Maue: ”Don’t open the coconut outside of the hut.” The indian promised to do as the cobra had told but the other Maue were overwhelmed with curiosity and together opened the coconut. They wanted to know what this much-awaited night would be like and opened the shell right there in the middle of a planted field. And then the disaster happened: darkness covered the world. They couldn’t see anything at all. And a terrible, unforseen anguish crept into the heart of the Maue.

Chaos ensued for a while, and in the running this way and that no one thought about the little creatures, which had already been given poison by the Great Cobra. The first to get it were the spiders, small snakes, and scorpions, who defended themselves from the rush of Indians by biting them in the foot. What a calamity! The few that survived the poisonous bites now know how to behave. And from then on they watched out for the little creatures and took care not to step on them and avoided getting bitten. From that time on they lived peacefully together and in mutual respect. Why is it that we big creatures don’t look out for the small creatures? (END/COPYRIGHT IPS)

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