All language subtitles for Fleur de Lampaul -

Peoples of the Water
The River Indians

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Fleur de Lampaul has
crossed the Atlantic,

17 days since Bissau, in Africa.

After a year spent with the
Imragen people of Mauritania,

and the Bijago of Guinea-Bissau,

Fleur and her crew
are in French Guiana,

to meet the Wayana
and Kali'na Indians.

Since August, the ship awaits her
new crew of eight children,

who must come
from mainland France.

Arriving on board,

the first task of the children
is to get used to life at sea.

I haven't really learned yet,
I'm still learning.

I studied the ropes earlier.

Everyone should learn
the function of the ropes,

from one end of the
boat to the other.

Before any manoeuvre, it's
necessary to start up the engine.

Here, you look at the
state of the charger.

This is the turbine...

-Then, you open the tap fully.
-Yes.

Yan, the only child of the
former crew teaches Delphine,

youngest of the group and
passionate about ecology,

the rules of the startup.

Then the turbine...

Pay close attention to all the gears,

because it's a windlass
which is very powerful,

If you put your finger there,

you'll lose your whole arm
if there's nobody to stop it.

Fabrice, the first mate,

warns against the dangers
of using the windlass.

The anchor is raised,
we hoist the flags,

the departure approaches.

What he's going to have to do is,

to hoist the wooden part
which is called the horn, here.

We'll bring it up at an angle,
at the top of the mast.

It's a manoeuvre that
we'll do together.

It'll be necessary to pull simultaneously
together on these two halyards.

Jacques, the captain and
the adults on board,

had a lot of work during the
stopover in French Guiana.

The Fleur suffered a lot
from the rains and humidity...

after the Africain drought.

It was necessary to completely
repaint her and to recaulk the hull.

Everyone's been awaiting this moment
with impatience, we're going to sail.

The first navigation takes us
to the Salvation islands,

last vestige of the infamous
penal colony of French Guiana.

First night.

For some of you, this night is going to
be the first night at sea, on a ship.

On a ship, there are certain safety
measures to be observed.

The greatest risk is
to fall into the sea,

so at night it's even worse
than the day because...

it'll be very difficult to find you.

For security, you each have a
watch jacket, like Jerome there.

The watch jacket has buoyancy,
so if you fall into the water,

not only will it keep you warm
but it will also make you float.

If ever there are people who
are sick, it can happen,

because now the sea is very calm
but it's not always so,

if you're sick it's always
better to come up here in front.

To vomit at the back it's always out of
sight of the people who are on watch.

And you don't always have time
to put on your watch jacket.

To sail, you first have to overcome sea
sickness to carry out the chores:

deck cleaning, cooking for
15 people, washing up,

housework and of course
the watches, day and night.

-Hi, sleep well?
-Yes.

-Will you take the helm?
-Yes.

-Here on 140.
-Okay.

No, on 120, sorry.

There are currently no ships.

We're running a little
better than yesterday.

Philippe, the intellectual of the group
takes the first watch of the morning.

Sophie will relieve him at sunrise.

Sea voyages leave some free time,

and everyone hurries to read
the many books and accounts...

written on these accursed places.

For now, it's the beginning and we're
still not too fully into the rhythm.

Well, that comes little by little, we
know well that there's a lot of work,

so we just get on with it.

We do about 2 to 3 hours
of school work a day.

Otherwise, we also do
other brain work,

because there's not
only school work.

And we work alone and so the
school work gets done a little faster,

because we don't discuss
it with a whole class,

and there's not thirty of us
talking about the same thing.

You're all alone so it
can go a little faster.

For problems, we have
adults on board to help us.

Otherwise, outside of school we
also have the writing for the book.

Which already takes a lot of time.

and of course we're also working
on the film and on the reports.

We try to learn about where we are.
-We're going to Devil's Island,

where Dreyfus was deported
as a political prisoner.

-After the 2nd World War.
-Before.

-No, no, after.
-Before...

And Delphine, we're studying
the life in the cells?

-Yes.
-What they felt, what they thought.

There's Devil's Island
where Dreyfus was.

Yes.

And behind, is St. Joseph island
where the punished were imprisoned.

We can't see it yet.

The Islands are in sight.

3 pebbles resting on the ocean,

a fly speck as Albert Londres said.

The children rush to discover
these places that Albert Londres,

Papillon and others,
describe as a hell.

After their first sail,

the new crew prepares to explore
Devil's Island and St. Joseph Island.

Delphine, Anne-Claire,
Jerome and Philippe,

approach the notorious island where
they locked up the trouble makers.

At the time of the prison
between 1850 and 1950,

there wasn't a single
tree on the island

so that no raft could be built.

Since 1952, when it was closed,

the vegetation has invaded and
destroyed a good part of the prison.

To better soak up the
spirit of the place,

the children have decided
to bivouac in the cells.

In these cramped cells,
without windows and unhealthy,

few prisoners resisted
disease and madness.

So?

So what's it like,
standing in there?

I don't know.

Can 5 of us sleep in there?

-We could also sleep in the corridor.
-Well, I won't sleep at all.

Why's that?

-Because this doesn't inspire
me with confidence. -Why?

I don't know, I don't like...

After a night of rain,

they have a little idea of how
the convicts lived, day after day.

Humidity, mosquitoes, diseases
of all kinds and deadly insects.

These half starved men weren't
allowed to lie down during the day.

The power of the vegetation
allows us to imagine...

the wildlife that came to
cavort in the cells.

Even this tree seems
to want to escape.

Normally for a prison sentence,
someone must,

a guy must do something wrong,

and then they lock
him up to punish him.

While here, they locked up people,

and left them to die.

In fact it was really immoral,
it was really to get rid of them.

When you know that here they didn't
live more than two to three months,

I mean, they didn't really intend,

that later they'd return to France.

I never would have
expected or imagined...

that a country like mine, France,

mother of freedom in the world,

which gave birth to the rights
of man and of the citizen,

could have,
even in French Guiana,

on a remote island in the Atlantic,

the size of a pocket handkerchief,

a system so barbarously repressive,

as is the imprisonment
at saint Joseph.

Often when we see these cells,
we still have a sense of fear.

We think about all the convicts
who lived in there. I think...

it was quite inhumane.

"For the first time I saw the prison,

there they are,
100 men, all sick,

those who are standing,
those who are lying,

those who moan like dogs"

It still feels sometimes
that France has shame,

because the prison was an
important period of history,

it existed for 100 years,

and it's not in the school curriculum,

in history or anything.

So we can still say that this represents
for France a sense of shame,

and what we don't
want to talk about.

They weren't afraid,
between freedom and prison,

there's only death there.
There's no peace.

In April 1895, a man
named Alfred Dreyfus,

traitor to his country,
disembarked.

From then on, this fly speck,
lost in the ocean,

would become as famous as
the 7 wonders of the world.

14 hectares for an inmate,
intense surveillance, inhumane,

and a case that
would divide France,

Devil's Island became a legend.

Here I am in front of
the Seznec memorial.

At that time, he was
accused of murder,

Now we know he was innocent.

And he was one of many innocents who
were condemned to the penal colony.

[Guillaume Seznec MARTYR - INNOCENT]
There was Dreyfus, Dieudonné.

Before coming here, my
grandmother told me about it,

because she had
followed the debate,

but it's funny
nevertheless to be here.

In addition, I'm from Brittany
and Seznec was a Breton.

So it means something.

Although the landscape
of the Salvation Islands is...

rather idyllic, the coconut palms,

the rocks, the sea...

Me, I can't forget all
the past of the islands,

all the men who
passed through here,

and who died in
inhumane conditions.

It's really a rotten past.

Besides, I don't really see
how it's possible to forget.

Fleur is in French Guiana,

moored in the mouth of the
river Maroni, by the sea.

To go into the heart of the forest,
we've left the Fleur.

By small groups, we reached
the village of Antecume-Pata,

where the Wayana Indians live.

This village is situated on an island
in the middle of the Maroni river,

which marks the border
with Suriname.

Immersed for time immemorial in one of
the last primary forests of the planet,

the Wayanas essentially live off
the resources of the forest.

When I was in France,

and I knew that I was going
to go among the Wayanas,

I didn't have much idea,

about their behaviour
and character.

It's their kindness that
I discovered later.

I thought they'd be a
little more reserved.

In fact when we arrived,
the children especially,

who were very spontaneous,
and they started asking,

what's your name?

They pronounced our names in a funny
way with their accent and everything.

And then they
gave us nicknames.

This is how the friendship began,

from the first day we saw that
they were really interested in us.

I think they weren't
disappointed, because...

we talked together like this.

A Wayana told me:

this is the first time that I've seen
palassissis who are so interested in us.

Palassissi is the name
for white people.

Barely having arrived,
we accompany a group...

that's going hunting and fishing
for a week in the forest.

They all have nicknames here.

For example, Mahiomet means,

"frog that sings in the rain."

Mimisiku is "cat piss".

Ayouweb is "lizard poo".

They've also given us
Wayana nicknames.

For example...

Edouard is called Aloued,
it means" kwatar poo".

Mine is Morak, meaning "mosquito"
because I've been devoured.

Ocutipark is a frog.

They love to laugh.
They enjoy teasing.

At the slightest touch, at the
slightest little thing, they laugh.

Going up river, a few iguanas
hunted along the banks,

will serve as the first
meal at the bivouac.

For the children, it's learning
how to set up the hammocks.

This camp is often used by
the inhabitants Antécum-pata...

when there's a shortage of
fish or game in the village.

Mimisikou prepares his arrows.

To cross the forest,
the only navigable routes...

are the rivers that radiate
throughout French Guiana.

Before the escaped slaves
taught them to build canoes,

the Indians travelled on foot,

felling trees to cross the river.

Gymnotes or electric eels,

and Aimara, a kind of
large carnivorous fish,

are the species most
fished with a bow.

By line, the most common fish
are catfish and piranhas,

which contrary to the legend
haven't eaten any of us.

Mimisiku is an Indian,

I've lived amongst his family
for three weeks,

three and a half weeks.

He has a great sense of humour.

And he likes to talk
and have a laugh.

He's nice, you know.

We get along really well.

He's a very good hunter.

The few times I went hunting
and fishing with him,

He was really impressive.

Mimisikou, he gets all
the shots in the head.

What surprised me a bit,
is how he sees the fish.

He was 20 meters from
the fish. He saw it.

Then he slowly approaches,
he draws his bow,

and then launches the arrow
which flies underwater.

In French Guiana, there
are 450 species of fish.

In France there's only 60.

A fine example of the biodiversity
of the Guianese forest.

It's weird because living
at home, I only see parts.

So I can't imagine at all
the animal itself.

Here, there are lots of
different kinds of fish.

I don't know, but here you see
your meal from beginning to end.

You cut open the fish,
you scale it,

you clean it, gut it,
and cook it, etc...

-Are you going to smoke it, Coumaya?
-Yes.

It doesn't taste the same
as when you buy it in a shop.

It's fish, it's just food.

The boucan: as at Antecum-pata,

and in the forest, you can't
lug your frige with you,

so you can't keep the fish
more than a day or two.

So when we left the forest,

we made a sort of small table,

out of branches,
underneath we made a fire.

We laid the fish on the branches,

so they get smoked,

and we can keep them
for up to a week.

It's the beginning of
the rainy season.

In 2 months time, the paths will be
impassable and the river dangerous.

The most important thing
is to monitor the boucan.

The fish mustn't get wet,

and the fire must stay
alight no matter what.

6 o'clock in the morning,
the camp awakes.

Already, Mimisiku is
chatting with the birds.

Parrots are the preferred
pets of the Indians.

The river is a favoured
meeting place.

The water is very warm.

We bathe and wash
there several times a day.

It's level varies
throughout the year.

During our stay,
it's almost at its highest,

making it easily navigable.

-Is this comoussa Ayouweb?
-Yes. Comoussa.

So then...

Two, two.

-These two?
-Yes.

Like this, like this,
after that...

Okay.

The Wayanas have taught me that
I should be available to others,

because they're always available
to show me something,

while I,

I never have the time or
I wait a little bit and stuff.

In fact I never listen.

They listen to others,
they like to talk.

They're much less
pressed for time.

Us, we're always pressed for time,
work, stress and everything.

While they're much more relaxed,

slower in their actions,

and they're doing better than me.

-It's a backpack, right?
-Yes.

A backpack?

-This?
-Yes.

We put the game in it...

Baboon, iguanas...

No, not iguanas.

And there you have it.

-Is it good?
-Super, it's great.

The Wayanas have a great
knowledge about nature,

and know how to use
the wealth of the forest.

These vines are used to practice a
particular type of fishing, the nivrée.

Crushed, they produce a toxic
juice which intoxicates the fish,

and allows them to
be easily caught.

The katouri or green backpacks can
weigh up to 50 kgs, when loaded.

The Wayana men and
women are very resilient,

and can carry them over
very long distances.

...I'm hungry, I'm hot.

...I'm exhausted.

Here?
-Yes.

That's what it takes to
really live with the Indians.

It's not by watching
them do it,

you really have to participate
in everything they do,

even if it's a pain in
the ass like this.

We get a certain
satisfaction afterwards.

That feels good.

I was exhausted,

I don't know, I had maybe
30 kg on my back.

I was sweating,
I was hungry and thirsty,

and then there was
Yayouweb who told me:

only another 3 minutes,
3 minutes to go.

Yes, yes...

Every 5 minutes, I asked
him how much longer it was.

I was exhausted.

After this apprenticeship
to life in the forest,

the children, tired but happy,

return to the village
to live amongst a family,

and discover Wayana society.

7 o'clock in the morning,

the children from surrounding villages
arrive at the village of Antecum,

after going down the rapids.

It's not uncommon for them to come
to school with their books wet,

after being overturned
going through the rapids.

The children of Fleur, have lived
in the village for 3 weeks now.

It's wash time.

We're going to bathe in the
rapids with the 6 year olds.

There was nevertheless
something strong between me,

and the children
who were with me.

They were clinging to me and
I was holding on to them.

And it's a mutual contribution.

It's a friendship between two
people of different worlds,

and of the same
world even so.

And that's strong for both, I think.

It's certain also, that we don't
bring them only good things,

because we arrive among
the families with our bags,

with things they don't
necessarily have,

and this is only attracting them even
more to head towards the Western world.

We participate a little bit
also in this temptation.

At the school, two teachers provide
education from kindergarten to age 13.

Those who want to
continue their studies,

go to boarding school at Maripasoula,
further down the river.

Fishing, we'll see how
you write it. Go ahead.

Ah, very good.

Alaou and Toumis
are fishing in the river.

What did you put,
you others?

So then.
Who made one mistake?

Two mistakes?

The first two years,
teaching is done in Wayana...

to help the children to integrate
into the school system.

Quietly.

Quietly.

We're going to get up.
You take the targets.

You take your bow,
you take the bows...

...okay.

Gym class.

Archery is still widely practiced although
hunting is now done with a gun.

Alright, let's start the contest.

I score 2 points when
the arrow sticks in,

1 point when it touches,

and ½ point if it almost does.

Personally, I haven't tried archery,

because...

among the Indians, it's normally
the boys who do archery.

Me, I stayed mostly
with the women,

I cut up the fish,
I grated the manioc,

I did the women's work.

Aliémé, zero.

For their part, the adults
go to work in the forest.

Antecum-pata village was created
by André Cognat in the late '60s.

This Frenchman chose to join the
Indians of the Amazon rainforest,

to adopt their way of life.

The village of Antecumpata is
situated in a very attractive place.

That's why I chose the place.

It's true that regarding agricultural
land, we have some difficulties.

It has rapids that are adjacent
and close to the village,

The land is pretty bad from an
agricultural point of view.

So we can't grow manioc.

So we have to go
relatively far.

Because formerly the village could
also move, according to the terrain,

but now we have a village
that is relatively fixed,

because it's important, because
there's a certain infrastructure.

So, we're obliged to choose
agricultural plots...

a little bit everywhere and
sometimes a bit far.

Since then, he has married
and has two children.

Here, the soil is very poor,

all richness is
contained in the litter,

In reality, that's it,

all these leaves and branches
that fall and will rot...

and then decompose quickly.

So you see that there's
not very much.

Here, we come to a place
where there are large seeds.

And some can't germinate if they
haven't been eaten by an animal,

because the gastric juices will attack
the shell and allow them to break down.

And immediately after,
we arrive at the first roots.

There's some insects.

So here we see that the soil is
alive. There's quite a lot of humus.

Here, there's a layer where
the soil is rather brown,

because it contains a lot
of organic particles,

this is where we find
the most rootlets,

and then below it,
the more we dig,

the more we arrive at a
soil of very poor earth,

which no longer contains
fertile elements.

And it explains why the forest
is destroyed so very quickly.

If all the plants are cut down,

all this will be stripped bare by the
rains in 2 or 3 years, very quickly.

And afterwards, only an
extremely poor soil will remain.

In this difficult environment, the
men of the village help each other.

This is one of the rules of the
social life of the Wayanas.

Here, we're now cutting
down the bigger trees,

because a few days ago,
we cut down all the bushes.

The abattis is a vegetable plot
that'll be used for...

the agricultural production of families.

For the abattis, you need
to cut down everything,

then you must burn everything
so as to allow the sun through,

so that the sun reaches the manioc
and everything you're going to plant.

If you plant in the undergrowth,
it will grow poorly.

It's cut, then allowed to dry
and then burned,

and the burning enriches...
provides enrichment to the soil,

this allows you to plant, to have
more or less normal vegetable plots.

This work must be renewed
every 2-3 years,

because of poor soil
and insect attack.

The soil is quickly washed away by the
torrential rains in the rainy season.

All of the good layer
goes very quickly.

You have to...
change consistently.

And normally you
shouldn't resume using...

a former abattis before
at least a decade.

The primary forest is the result
of millions of years of evolution.

It's there that you have diversity,

that you have species that
could lead to new drugs,

that we have all the heritage,
the flora and fauna.

You can have 400 species
of trees per hectare.

This is the kind of forest
that must be protected.

The indigenous people
are a special case,

basically, they've evolved together.

They're here, it may even
belong to them to some extent.

They don't do damage anyway.
It's like the Indians here.

I imagine that the damage
is quite limited, and...

if occasionally they
shoot a spider monkey,

it's not this that's going to
endanger the spiders monkeys.

It's not they who destroy
the forest anyway...

These people have lived for a long
time here, often in balance with it.

Until now, in the
Amazon rainforest,

the greatest damage was caused
by gold miners and ranchers.

It's not because it's
green and it's a forest...

which is worth protecting.

It's the primary forest
that must be protected,

and the difference is subtle
when you don't know.

Gaël and Liam study
with Daniella and Vincent,

the regeneration of
the primary forest.

Here, they're carrying
out a transect.

On this abattis,
abandoned 17 years ago,

they're studying the species
that have grown back.

This secondary forest will
take at least 400 years...

before becoming
primary forest again.

The greatest difficulty is to
determine the species removed.

There, you mark DA 267.

The 267th plant in this transect
which is 10m by 100m, no 2m by 100m.

So I take a sheet of newspaper,

I write DA and the
number of the plant.

I put the leaf inside.

Generally, for example
for the seedlings,

since they have neither
fruit nor flowers,

and their bark is still not
very distinctive,

doing analysis will be very difficult
and we must try to find their name.

Okay.

The Wayanas take many
things from nature,

their food, their housing,
their clothes.

And I believe that
they can still do it now,

because they continue
to respect it.

They understand nature,
and if they don't destroy it,

it will give them almost everything
they need to live.

And there where I live, in Lyon,
it's the city, buildings and cars.

I've never used
nature for anything,

and I never really knew
what it could bring me.

There's still one over there.

The first one you took.

-Really?
-Yes.

At the entrance of the village.

...Are there 12 or 13?

2... 8... 12, 13.

Mimisiku is still a Wayana...

who remains somewhat traditional.

He prefers me to be with Coumaya,
his wife, and that I do womans work.

He treats me more as a Wayana
woman than a white person.

After the physical
work in the morning,

the afternoon is usually
spent on crafts or housework.

Everyone ends up in the
shade of the carbet.

Mimisku, for example,
specializes in basketry.

He makes things like this.

All the men of the
village can manage...

to make for example,
a catouri like this,

to carry game
in the forest,

the small everyday
things like this.

But complicated basketry
like that one,

there aren't many
men who can do it.

Among the young people,
it's already in decline, because...

because they're already moving
towards white civilization.

So they don't know
where to place themselves,

they don't know much
what to be interested in.

The last to still be interested
in practicing basketry,

they're aged about 18-19,

but the boys of my age
don't know how to do it.

Those among them who have
completed a school education,

must now find a new way of life.

If I had money, I'd prefer
to go to another city,

for example Cayenne, Paris...

-In fact you want to travel.
-Yes, to travel,

to buy things.

Couyamane specializes in producing
symbolic and religious objects.

Here he refurbishes the
traditional headdress...

worn during
the initiation ceremony.

It's constituted of feathers of many
birds and especially the Macaw,

the best-known of the
multicoloured parrots.

He tries it on the head
of his grandson.

Two generations, two lives,
two cultures, already so different.

Having lived among the Wayanas,

in general, you could tell that
they had pride in themselves,

of who they were.

While the young, now,

I have the impression that
they're ashamed,

of who they are and
they want to get away.

This is the last day,
so we're sad to leave,

we find it difficult
to part from them.

It clearly shows that they're
people of exceptional quality.

I think that what remains...
is their friendship.

Fleur de Lampaul has been in
French Guiana for 3 months now.

She's moored opposite
the Gallibi village of Coswin.

The Gallibis are Native Americans,
the original inhabitants of Guiana.

The village of Coswin is one
of the most traditional.

It's also the most isolated,

located on an island between
France and Suriname.

I often get letters from friends,

who tell us,
"you're with the savages".

Now, there are no savages.

It's true that before leaving
on the Fleur, the Indians...

I didn't know much about
who they were, in fact.

I wasn't even sure that
they still really existed.

It's true that now I have a completely
different picture of them,

compared to what I had before.

This isn't because in France,
I go to school every day,

that I know more things than them.

If you dropped me in the middle
of the Amazon rainforest,

I wouldn't have a
clue what to do.

Liam and Gaël have an appointment on
the other side of the delta with Yanki,

an old Galibi born in France.

He chose to live in Surinam
refusing welfare,

and subsidies of all kinds.

Like many old people,
he doesn't like life in France,

and prefers a modest existence that
provides him his fishing and his abattis.

First task, to set the net of 400 m.
which he usually handles alone.

I do a week at home,
then I fish a little, twice, once.

-Every other week?
-Yes.

It's not every day that I fish.

-And will you return home?
-No.

Why?

-The slackers.
-The slackers?

-The French, they're lazy?
-Ah yes.

While waiting for the fish
to find the net,

they're going to
collect clams at sea,

on a sandbank that's
exposed at low tide.

Yes, there aren't many of them.

-There remains a few.
-Yes a few.

Before, I was a football player,

yes, football player
when I lived in Galibi.

I have my family there.

You told us that you came
to look for your wife.

Oh yes, look for my wife here.

When there's a woman...
it's nice... yes.

Like that, it's the life that.

-You're French?
-Yes.

-Your passport is what nationality?
-No, I don't have a passport.

-No passport?
-No, I've no passport.

But before, I had a passport...

I forgot to renew it.

The fishing is sparse.

According to Yanki, it hasn't
always been the case.

It's difficult to
control the borders,

and a number of industrial trawlers
come to lay their nets near the village.

...too much work.

It's full.

You pull well.

When there's no more fuel we
rig a sail made out of rice sacks.

-Before, there were a lot of fish?
-Yes, before there was a lot of fish.

-And why's there no more fish now?
-The trawlers... they come...

The nets are 50 kms,
like that in the water.

like this, all the fish are gone.

Today, Yanki doesn't
bring back fish to sell.

Only enough to feed his family
and guests for the day.

At yanki's, Gaël makes use of the
hammock together with the monkey.

Madame, she understands well.

Back on Fleur, Yanki tells us
of his regret of an era,

where solidarity and sharing
were the rules of the community.

Meanwhile, Edouard
accompanies Roger and Didier...

for some very special fishing.

First, it's necessary to go away from
the village if we want to find some fish.

To do this,

we go back up the branches of this large
delta where the sea meets the river.

It's a veritable maze and you
have to know the tides...

to access this backwater.

Arriving at the fishing site, we
first look for some bait.

Almost all seeds of this tree contain
larvae which the fish are fond of.

You don't always
catch what you want,

and it's a caiman who has the
misfortune to take the bait.

It'll be saved from
the grill by its size.

In the early morning, after a
bivouac under a mosquito net,

we leave for the special fishing of
a rare fish in Guiana, the attipa.

Lepapa finishes making a basket
that he started in the night.

That's it, you see.

Near my home, there's a forest,

I've never noticed
the way trees breathe,

the life in a forest,
and I did in Guiana.

We're looking all the time to
go far away to do something,

while you may very well
do it close to home.

-Are we going to clear it?
-Yes.

We'll clear it,

and then after we've cleared
everywhere, then we'll lay the net.

After 2 hours of walking in the swamp,
we arrive in an undergrowth...

that's indistinguishable from
the rest of the forest.

A pool appears.
We place the net over it.

The attipas are there
in large numbers.

To adjust the net,

Roger dived into a water
that none of us would enjoy.

At the same time he collects
some fish for lunch.

I've never fished,

I was never interested
in the kinds of fish,

all this, in the
technique of fishing,

and I discovered that I could
very well have done it.

Take a line,
put a hook on the end,

then go get the fish.

And I realised that
I'd never done it...

because for us it's a little easier.

When we buy fish, we aren't
concerned with who caught them,

how it happens.

This fish is not covered with
scales but with bony rings.

It's a very old and
highly coveted species.

They were once found at sea
but they've disappeared.

Some specimens would have been deposited
here in the forest during high tides.

Protected from their main predator,
man, they were able to reproduce.

One can very well remain
Indian in the 20th century,

with pants and a t-shirt,

and then going to work
and earning a wage.

One can remain Indian at heart,

by believing as an
Indian of the past,

by reacting like an Indian.

And then we can't say that
an Indian is no longer an Indian...

because he wears pants
and a t-shirt.

On the way, we see the
last convict transport ship,

which is gradually
turning into an island.

Roger and Didier are happy,

their fishing allows them to go to the
market of Saint Laurent du Marony,

higher up the river.

For us, eating the atipas,

it's to afford a little luxury.

But it's for its quality.

The attipa is something
that's endangered.

Before there were some on the coast,
but now they've disappeared.

It's the custom,
I've been raised with it.

I know that it's very good.
And I know it's very rare.

Here, here, attipas.

...

Here, here, attipas.

And most importantly it will allow
them to retain their tradition.

With that, they can
remain where they are.

It'll keep them away
a bit from the city,

the modernization
of the city and all that.

If the concept of sharing
is now set aside,

it's because money has actually
become more important here.

-I earned 30 Francs.
-Altogether?

Altogether 200, 250...
We earned from the fish.

And now we'll go to buy gas,

some rice, bread and sugar,
salt and that's it.

-And then what?
-And then there's nothing left.

If we're not careful,

we'll choose a catastrophic
way of life for the people.

Either you prefer to effectively
preserve a heritage,

or you opt completely for
the consumer society.

Already here, there are problems
of drugs, delinquency...

it's still on a small scale.

There are things that show we
should actually remain optimistic.

There's still an awareness at the
level of identity, of the culture.

But one shouldn't say either,
that it's the culture,

the claim to identity
which will do everything.

Fleur will now leave French
Guiana to reach Panama,

for an encounter with
the Kuna Indians.

Subtitles by
Oliver Sanderson

http://tinyurl.com/cco7yhx

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