Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Squatting on the white sand banks of the Xingu River, Chief Carandine Juruna carefully sorts
out the bamboo arrows he has just exchanged for pottery with the upriver Kayabi. As he sets
aside the different fish, game, and bird hunting weapons according to specific arrowheads, the
60-year-old man makes sure each household that has contributed animal-shaped clay pots
receives its share of goods. Large families are privileged in the quality and number of arrows
they get and so are good hunters, hardworking pottery makers, elders, and the Juruna to whom
the Kayabi were previously indebted.
The Juruna nod approvingly as their leader distributes the arrows, commenting on the quality
of the bamboo, feathers, wax, and tree bark ties employed by the Kayabi. The transmission of
wealth is only one element of a much broader and enduring contract between the Juruna and
the Kayabi. It embodies and records the entire credit structure of the community, including
symbolic, interpersonal, economic, and emotional associations that reach far beyond the sole
exchange of propertya "system of total services" (Mauss 1990(1950]:5). The fairness of the
leader's distribution of goods is not questioned, nor is there a concern for immediate material
profit in this vast system of services rendered and reciprocated.
Meanwhile, an employee of the National Indian Foundation in Brazil (FUNAI) standing
nearby nervously operates his calculator, attempting to stipulate a price for each arrow he
intends to buy from the Juruna and resell in Brasflia, the country's capital. Antonio's reasoning
is based on the monetary profit he customarily earns from the sale of indigenous "art craft."
Waving the number of Brazilian cruzeiro' bills that represents a "fair" price for the 20 arrows
he wants, Antonio is outraged when Tarinu Juruna, Carandine's son, remarks that "only seven
arrows are for sale," and that he himself will calculate their monetary value. The reasoning
behind the "exorbitant" price at which Tarinu arrives is far beyond Antonio's comprehension.
In this article, I discuss aspects of mathematical activity in the Xingu Indian Park and, more
specifically, at the Diauarum Indian Post. It was at this post that the Juruna, Suya, and Kayabi
founded the Diauarum School, where I taught Portuguese and mathematics from 1960 through
1984. Transactions among different Xingu tribes, and between Indians and merchants, loggers,
cattle ranchers, and other non-Indians, have increasingly involved arithmetical operations and
monetary calculations. Conflicts and tensions arise when the parties engaged in the exchanges
privilege different structuring resources when generating and solving arithmetical dilemmas. In
other words, values are attributed to goods under forms that are not exclusively materialthat
is, that can be easily quantified. Symbolic capital (Bourdieu 1991 [1972]:171183) is also
accounted in arithmetical operations, and the process of transforming symbolic into material,
quantifiable capital magnifies discrepancies found in dilemmas requiring (among other struc-
turing resources) arithmetical operations.
a world of numbers: the Kayabi, Juruna, and Suy of the Xingu Indian Park
The Xingu Indian Park was officially demarcated in 1961 by the Brazilian government as a
reservation that would conveniently encapsulate both local tribes (such as the Suya and the
Juruna) and other populations (such as the Kayabi) whose territories were sought for their large
supplies of gold, timber, and other natural resources. With the transfer of these groups into the
park, the emptied land became available for federal development projects of the 1950s and
1960s. Today there are approximately 3,500 individuals from 1 7 different tribes living in the
park (CEDI 1990:57), an administrative territorial unit of the Brazilian state located in Mato
Grosso.3
The Juruna, Kayabi, and Suya Indians share similar histories of contact with the broader
Brazilian society. Rubber tappers, gold prospectors, and cattle ranchers encroached on the
original territories of these tribes, indiscriminately killed the Indians with firearms and diseases,
enslaved them in their settlements, and raped and tortured women and children (Ferreira 1994a;
Oliveira 1969; Seeger 1981; Travassos 1984). The Juruna and SuyS were thus forced to migrate
to the Xingu area in the mid-1800s, and the Kayabi were transferred to the park a century later.
The Kayabi, Juruna (Tupi-speaking groups), and Suya (Ge-speaking) have thus suffered heavy
population losses (70-85%) since their initial contacts with different segments of the Brazilian
society. Since the establishment of the Xingu Park in 1961, most groups have increased
demographically. Today 132 Juruna live in the Tuba-Tuba village on the margins of the Xingu
River, whereas only 45 were "pacified" in 1948.4 Similarly, the 179 Kayabi brought into the
park by FUNAI in 1966 now number 526 individuals.5 There were only 60 Suya alive in 1959
(i.e., date oftheir official "pacification"); their population has now risen to 165.6
Questions the white men ask always start with how many, how much, how long or when. They want to
know for how long I've lived near Diauarum, when I was born, how many children I have, how much I
earn, and soon. Yours is a world of numbers. Kuiussi Suya, November 7 981
New forms of retribution and reciprocity have mediated social relations between the various
Xingu tribes. The reciprocal killings and acts of revengeinstances of retributive logic (Trompf
In the beginning the white men tried to finish with us using guns, whips, and diseases. Now they use
numbers. Kuiussi Suya, November 1981
The Kayabi, Suya, and Juruna who live near or work at the Diauarum Post are inevitably tied
to a world of figures. Guarding the reservation against invaders and claiming the possession of
traditional land means understanding such map features as scale and area. Operating the
radiophone twice daily involves buying gasoline to generate energy for its battery, charging the
battery a certain number of hours, turning the radio on at the correct time, and filling out details
such as the radiogram number, the number of words, and the transmission time. Operating the
local pharmacy or understanding how to take prescribed medication for malaria, tuberculosis,
or influenza involves buying medicine, paying health professionals, scheduling patient visits,
and prescribing, measuring, and ingesting specific quantities of medicine. Indians employed by
FUNAI as nurses, boat pilots, truck drivers, and accountants must handle their paychecks and
checkbooks. Money management is also a constant concern for those who sell and buy goods
to and from outsiders.
FUNAI officials who occasionally visit the park usually lecture on the Indians' customs to
their employees or guests. These speeches are also invariably punctuated by figures: how much
money the federal agency has spent to keep the Indians alive and well ("privileged people,
when compared to non-Indians"), birth and death rates ("they're not doing so bad, after all"),
the park's area ("too much land for so few Indians"), and so on.
You tell us in school what mathematics is good for and how it works, but I will tell you what it is not good
for. Don't try to learn our patterns of weaving using numbers; don't try to ask me exactly how much tree
bark ashes you should mix in the clay for pottery. These are things that don't ask for numbers, and that's
why you are so confused. Nunu Juruna, author's weaving and pottery teacher, February 1983
That we have turned our lives into an "arithmetic problem" (Simmel 1968,1987) is no news
at all. What it means to impose a numerical culture upon peoples who did not orient themselves
extensively by means of numerical calculation until recently is a question that has seldom been
posed. Making sense out of a numerical world reaches far beyond the exclusive relations among
its arithmetical elements: it means more than understanding standard systematizations of
Knowing a little mathematics has made our lives easier.... To tell you the truth, numbers don't scare me
anymore. What goes on behind numbers, what the white men actually think, is more important than
adding or subtracting. Aturi Kayabi, a former teacher at the Diauarum School, June 1990
The Juruna proceed downriver back to their home village, carrying in dugout canoes the
bamboo arrows they have just exchanged for pottery. They are greeted by Suya and Kayabi
guests who have been invited for the caxiri8 ceremony by Chief Carandine Juruna and his wife.
The alcoholic beverage of manioc, sweet potato, and com has been fermenting for days in
specially carved canoes. As the Juruna women lift the straw mats to show their guests how
generous their offering is, the sweet and sour odor that emanates from the thick foamy drink
arouses passionate emotions among both hosts and guests. While the Juruna women tie their
guests' hammocks to wooden poles in the central plaza, I ask them whether the Kayapo who
live down river are also coming:
Not this time. We've already had the Kayapo and the Panara over for a huge caxiri. This feast is for the
Kayabi and Suya, who have recently given us arrows, fish, beads, cotton and invited us to their ceremonies.
We know the Kayabi harvested lob of peanuts this year, and some of our young men have been courting
Suya girls lately. [Nunu Juruna, January 1982, my translation)
Caxiri, in the Xingu Park, is a gift. As an object of exchange, the caxiri (both the ceremony
and the beverage itself) carries with it the obligation to give, to receive, and to reciprocate. It is
an economic commodity that circulates among the Juruna as well as among the Juruna and
other Xingu tribes, receiving its meanings from the responses (or countergifts) it triggersin this
case, peanuts and young girls. Caxiri is also, however, a vehicle and instrument "for realities of
another order, such as power, influence, sympathy, status, and emotion," embodied in the
collectivities impose obligations of exchange and contract upon each other. . . . What they exchange is
not solely property and wealth, movable and immovable goods, and things economically useful. In
particular, such exchanges are acts of politeness: banquets, rituals, military services, women, children,
dances, festivals, and fairs, in which the economic transaction is only one element, and in which the
passing on of wealth is only one feature of a much more general and enduring contract.9 [Mauss
1990(1950):5]
As I pass on the gourd of caxiri to a Juruna elder, I ask him if the Juruna have always been so
polite and generous toward their neighbors:
Oh no, no! We used to invite the Kayapo to drink with us, and when they were really drunk we'd kill
them! We did that to other Indians, too. Sometimes we wanted their women or children; sometimes we
were interested in something else. So we'd ask them over tor a caxiri. But now that we live all together
in this park, we have to get along, to be friends. (Axin xin Juruna, January 1982]
The gift exchange is not "disinterested" or purely "symbolic" (that is devoid of any material
or concrete effect). Although the circulation of caxiri cannot be measured by the yardstick of
monetary profit, its symbolic interests "never cease to conform to economic calculations even
when it gives every appearance of disinterestedness by departing from the logic of interested
calculation (in the narrow sense) and playing for stakes that are non-material and not easily
quantifiable" (Bourdieu 1991 [1972]:177).
The Suya and Kayabi gift exchanges often involve the circulation of food among neighboring
populations. Among the Suya the circulation of "goods and resources, where the goods may be
intangibles and the resources symbolic" (Seeger 1981:181) is usually undertaken by the
meropakande (a village controller), who is primarily known for a fairness that transcends his
kinship ties. Food is never stored or put away; it must circulate. Suya ceremonies are thus
characterized by the frequent public distributions of food in the central village plaza (Seeger
1987:13).
Norms for the circulation of food among Kayabi villages are described by Travassos
(1984:45^9) as part of a broader system that involves local Kayabi villages, other Xingu tribes,
and outsiders. Every household offers each visitor entering a Kayabi village a gourd full of
fermented beverage, "one of the main symbols of hospitality. . . . The beverage is carried in
huge pots which are lent to the visitors; the host later uses the return of the pot as an excuse to
return the initial visit." Within a newly formed social arena where alliances among the different
tribes are more valued than former hostilities, "even the Kayapo-Metuktire" are now included
in the ceremonial gift exchanges of the Kayabi, as are Upper Xingu peoples whose sorcerers
are feared and to whom "one cannot deny anything because sorcerers are revengeful and
powerful" (Travassos 1984:49).
These intertribal alliances also place Xingu populations within the Brazilian Indian Move-
ment, the latest accomplishments of which include the establishment of constitutional rights to
education in both Portuguese and in native languages and the possession of traditional
indigenous territories.
Antonio returns to the Diauarum Indian Post the following day in his motor boat, boasting
about his most recent acquisitions: a blond mistress, a rifle, three head of cattle, and five bottles
of whiskey. After rehearsing his speech on "what a waste of time it is for a person with [my]
looks and education to spend such precious years of [my| life trying to teach savages how to
count," Antonio tells me his plans for the future:
Unlike you, I make good money here.10.. . I bought a farm nearby where I have 65 head of cattle. I am
getting rich, rich! That's why I can tolerate these goddamn Indians, the mosquitoes, the filth. . . . I just
need a few more years until I retire, and that'll be it. I'll have enough money for yet another farm, more
cattle, and I've just heard there are mining lots for sale at the Castelo dos Sonhos [Castle of Dreams).
[January 1982)"
While the Juruna, Kayabi, and Suya feasted at the Tuba-Tuba village, Antonio enjoyed himself
at a Saturday night baile ("ball") in Bang-Bang,12 a small town located near the eastern border
of the Xingu Park. He was joined by gold prospectors, loggers, and cattle ranchers who came
from nearby settlements to renew their supplies of industrial goods such as ammunition,
alcoholic beverages, canned food, and medication against malaria. At the local night club,
women were also for sale. They were displayed on stage one by one, their price set according
to the number of teeth they still possessed.13 Slavery, an antiquated mode of production, still
prevails in this town that is literally named after the common practice of killing local Indians:
"Shoot 'em up."
The Juruna, Kayabi, and Suya frequently engage in commercial transactions in Bang-Bang,
as well as in prospecting sites such as Castelo dos Sonhos, cattle ranches, and other nearby
settlements. At these places, where an "irrational" or "parasitic" capitalism prevails (Weber
1983[1904]),14 social relationships are very impersonal, and there is no trust between buyers
and sellers of cows, bananas, sugar, pornographic magazines, caxiri, arrows, women, and so
forth. These commodities play for stakes that are nonmaterial and cannot easily be quantified;
the conversion of their symbolic value into monetary units creates conflicts and tensions,
especially between local merchants and the Indians.
Bang-Bang's inhabitants are shocked that the natives seem content with producing what is
strictly necessary for their own consumption. They constantly invoke images of Indian indolence
and incapacity to work hard. As the owner of a local store told me in March 1990:
The Kayabi don't want to become my partners. . . . They'd raise the cattle [on the reservation] and I'd sell
the meat, we could all become millionaires! But they say there's a lot of game on their land, that hunting
and fishing is enough. I know they're just too lazy to do anything else besides sleeping in hammocks and
messing around with their women all day.
Systematic exploitation characterizes the relationship between most merchants and Indians
in Bang-Bang. Goods (such as sugar, coffee, soap, fishing equipment, clothing items) are always
overpriced. No matter how much merchandise the Juruna, Kayabi, and Suya bri ng into the stores
to be exchanged, a 30 percent monthly inflation rate during the 1980s plus interest sent debts
skyrocketing. Here is Ipo Kayabi:
I had to give almost half the banana I planted this year to pay my debts at Tonhaa's. That is, to pay for 3
kilos of salt, 2 kilos of sugar, a pair of boots, 10 medium-size fishing hooks and 4 large batteries for my
flashlight which I bought 4 months ago, I had to give him 240 dozen bananas. He had originally asked
for 30 dozen, but he said the inflation was very high so I had to pay him more. [May 19831
Tarinu Juruna, son of chief Carandine, has just returned to Diauarum after the two-day stay
at his home village for the caxiri ceremony. He is one of the 13 Juruna living at the Diauarum
Indian Post in order to attend the recently founded Diauarum School, 16 the first school to operate
in the Lower Xingu. Tarinu stated his main goal as a student at the Diauarum School on the very
day the school was inaugurated: "I want to learn mathematics so that the white man cannot
deceive us with numbers anymore." 17
Tarinu starts his presentation with Antonio's unfortunate remark that "Indians are too stupid
to learn math." His updated ( 7 x 5 = 0 , rather than 7 x 5 = 125) explanation of the arithmetical
dilemma exemplifies the articulation of structuring resources in everyday mathematical activi-
ties. On the school's blackboard Tarinu demonstrated how he had articulately resorted to
school-learned algorithms, principles of reciprocity, and aspects of the capitalist economic
action:
Antonio wanted to buy 20 arrows, but we would only sell him 7, since we need arrows to hunt and fish
with and he doesn't. Antonio wants to make more money, selling arrows to white men in Brasilia. We
know that he sells arrows for much more than he buys them from us, so instead of selling them for 2
cruzeiros, we wanted to sell them for 5 cruzeiros each. So that would be 7 times 5 equals 35. But Antonio
owes us money for the 6 clay pans he bought last month and didn't pay us for. That's 12 for each pan;
so 6 times 12 equals 72. He also owes us 18 cruzeiros for the deer we killed for him last week, which he
feasted on for days. That is, 35 plus 72 plus 18 equals 125. But Antonio did not accept the price, since
he is a greedy and selfish man who only thinks about getting rich on our backs. So he didn't pay us the
125. That is, 125 minus 125 equals 0. [February 1982]
"What did Antonio want to pay?" asked Tarinu's classmates. "He wanted to buy 20 arrows
for 40 cruzeiros, that is, 2 cruzeiros per arrow. I told him that only 7 arrows were for sale, so
he wanted to give me 14," answered Tarinu. "Why only 2 cruzeiros per arrow?" they inquired.
"Well," said Tarinu, "he thinks he could buy them cheap because he's had so many malarias,
Reciprocity is the principle upon which the circulation of money is based. Its general meaning is that for
every benefit conferred by one person upon another, something must eventually be given in return. In
the context of money, either the original or the return benefit must take the form of a payment. . . . This
may add up to no more than an established pattern of gift-giving, for as Mauss (1968:194) demonstrated
Levi-Strauss's (1950:xxxviii) analysis of Mauss's theory of gift exchange, however, posits that
it is the exchange as a constructed object that "constitutes the primary phenomenon, and not
the individual operations into which social life breaks it down." I agree that "it is of the nature
of money . . . to be used in an indefinite succession of payments, that is, to circulate" (Crump
1992[1990]:94); but, as Crump himself defines the circulation of money, "payment is simply
the transfer from one person to another of a quantity of money." Trompf's recent study of the
logic of retribution in Melanesia, where several studies on gift exchange have also been
conducted (de Coppet 1968, 1970; Malinowski 1964[1922]), illustrates the key point:
The "paying back" involved in daily exchanges.. . is not just the handing over of abstract, impersonalized
denotations of value, as in monetarized society (cf. Marx [1857-58] 1973:156-159, 221-225; Weber
1946:331), but forever entails for givers and takers the sense of fulfilling obligations, and thus the
heightened awareness that their (economic) activity is conditioned by social and more-than-human
expectations. [1994:114, emphasis added)
Let us look, finally, at another example involving money in which reciprocal and capitalist
structuring resources were articulated. In May 1982 Paie Kayabi, a student at the Diauarum
School, published his report of a trip to Bang-Bang in the local Indian newspaper Memoria do
Xingu:
On [May] 15 I joined Canisio [Kayabi] downriver because he wanted to buy 80 liters of gasoline. He took
108 bunches of bananas to sell in Bang-Bang. He sold each one for 500. He was only able to sell 50
[bunches of bananas]. It came out to 25,000, and the rest he sold for 200 each. He was only able to sell
30 bunches of bananas. He received another 6,000. Total money was 31,000. The rest of the bananas
he gave to the white men. [as cited in Ferreira 1994b:31, my translation]
Paie articulates the dilemma and its solution both simultaneously and dialectically. The data
involving the banana sale are worked out mathematically and the answers to each subproblem
are presented at particular points during the narrative. The intent to buy gasoline contextualizes
the situation in which the bananas were sold, but it is not presented as a dilemma that requires
a solution. The gift of the remaining bananas to non-Indians can be interpreted according to the
Kayabi system of food distribution. The basic principles of such a generous system oblige people
to give food and to embarrass those who ask for it (Travassos 1984:56-62). In this sense there
are no "rests"; the Kayabi do not neglect the remains oi a transaction as mathematics pejoratively
does, because such remains do not represent loss or something that should have been
"profitable" but was not. In this case, the notion of what constitutes an arithmetical "problem"
is intrinsically tied to the economy of a basically egalitarian society (Ferreira 1994b:31).
Nevertheless, Paie also resorted to notions of capitalist exchange in the processes of generating
and solving the (arithmetical) dilemma.
As the day breaks, Tarinu Juruna bathes in the Xingu River with other Juruna, Suya, and Kayabi
who study at the Diauarum School. The temperature is still cool and the water feels warm to
those who have spent the night in hammocks slung across the beams of the post's thatched-roof
houses. At 7:00 A.M. everyone is already at work, tending gardens, grating manioc roots,
sharpening arrowheads, or setting up the school's activity grounds. Not all the didactic programs
are held indoors. Some involvetripstonearby villages in order to interview elders for the journal
Memdria do Xingu or to collect information on housebuilding and other activities.
Wenhoron Suya tells us that a timbd fishing expedition19 is taking place near the Suya village.
He invites Tarinu and several other fellow students to visit the site. The group departs
immediately, taking plenty of arrows, spears, baskets, and food for the day in their canoes. The
When we decide which operation to use, the fact of having given the fish away determines,
according to our utilitarian and "rational" thinking, that I will be subtracting 3 from 10; the
supposedly correct and logical answer is 7. The answer at which Tarinu Juruna arrived, however,
was different: "I ended up with 13 fish," he wrote, and explained his reasoning:
I ended up with 13 fish since, whenever I give my brother anything, he pays me twice as much back.
Therefore, 3 + 3 = 6 [what his brother would pay him back); 10 + 6 = 1 6 ; and 16-3 = 13 (the total
amount of fish minus the 3 that were originally given away].
Robtokti Suya also came up with "1 3" as an answer to the same arithmetical dilemma, although
he had calculated it in a slightly different way:
I gave 3 fish to my brother, so that is 10 + 3 = 13.
When I argued that having given the fish away meant that he would have less fish than before,
Robtokti replied:
When the Suya give something to somebody, it doesn't mean we are going to have less of it. When I give
my brother fish, he always pays me back. So if I have 10 and give him 3, he will give me more fish when
he goes fishing. So that is 10 + 3, and not 10-3.
The explanations provided by the Juruna, Kayabi, and Suya for such divergent solutions
gradually made it clear that it was not a question of "cognitive incapacity," the explanation
commonly invoked by mathematics teachers on Indian reservations, but rather that principles
of reciprocity were structuring the arithmetical reasoning.
"Giving" fish to one's kin does not mean being deprived of such goods, since the recipient
is necessarily obliged to reciprocate. The specified ways through which the gifts will be returned,
however, depend on previous debts, kinship relations, personal emotions, and other symbolic,
interpersonal, and economic associations between the giver and the recipient. Such associations
provide structuring resources for the arithmetical strategies that are performed, and the propor-
tional articulation of such resources accounts for the variety of responses to a single "problem."
Let us look at how similar structuring resources were differently articulated by two Juruna
teenagers when solving the same dilemma (cited in Ferreira 1994b:35-37):
I received 10 fishing arrows from the Kayabi. I lost one in the river and gave 3 to my brother-in-law. How
many arrows do I have now?
My brother-in-law will pay me the 3 arrows back. If the Kayabi gave me 10 arrows, I will then have 13.
Then I will subtract the 1 I lost, so 12 remain. But since I will pay the Kayabi 10 arrows back, 2 will remain.
These 2 arrows, plus the 7 I already have at home make 9 arrows.
A different result was reached by Lavucia Juruna when solving the same dilemma:
10 19 25 24
+ 9 + 6 - 1
19 25 24 21
Now I have 21 arrows because I already had 9, so that is 10 + 9 = 19. My brother-in-law will
pay me back the 3 I gave him plus 3 he already owed me. That is 19 + 6 = 25. Since I lost 1
arrow in the river, now I have 24. But my father-in-law had given me 3 arrows, so that is 24 -
3 = 21.
That the specificity of arithmetical practice varies according to particular situations has several
implications. Most important, the allegedly eternal verities of mathematics20 are shown to be
socially construed. Gift exchange carries with it connotations that shape mathematical con-
cepts. The reverse, however, can also be true. Standard forms of material capital (such as systems
of currency and of measurement) and algorithmic arithmetic "carry meaning and values as such,
and these too are subjectively experienced" (Lave 1988:124). This reversibility is precisely what
characterizes the dialectical movement between symbolic and material capital. According to
Bourdieu, "the exchange of gifts, words, challenges, or even women must allow for the fact that
each of these inaugural acts may misfire, and that it receives its meaning, in any case, from the
response it triggers off, even if the response is a failure to reply that retrospectively removes its
intended meaning" (1991 [1972]:5).
To say that " 'mathematics' is the product of social work and symbolic fashioning" (Lave
1988:126) means that it stems from human constructions and creates new concepts (Piaget 1952
as cited in Piatelli-Palmarini 1980 as cited in Crump 1992 [1990]:28). It also means that "there
is but one universal grammar of number" (Chomsky 1980 as cited in Crump 1992[1990]:28).
In order to assert what these grammars, understandings, and concepts are, our gaze should be
directed to the discrepancies between experience and incorrigible beliefs that can render
intelligible what happens when 1 + 1 * 2the so-called "mistakes" (Pollner 1974 as cited in
Lave 1988:126). In other words, looking at discrepancies and discontinuities within arithmetical
practices and in situations that require mathematical reasoning would allow us to understand
not only why central Brazilian Indians are challenged (and sometimes threatened) by "mathe-
matics," but also why "nearly half of the adults in the U.S. can't handle arithmetic" (Celis 1993).
It would thereby also effectively demolish the charge of illiteracy.
According to Celis, the U.S. Department of Education's call for "a comprehensive approach
to solutions" tothe "shortcomings of education in America" on the grounds that it is not "keeping
pace with the kinds of skills required in today's economy" is echoed by the business commu-
Mauss, on the other hand, wrote in a tradition strongly opposed to the methodological
individualism and uti litarianism that Herrnstein and Murray embrace. Their main analytical tool
for policy decisions is utility theory, based on individuals'intellectual capacities. Mauss's theory
of the gift is, by contrast, a theory of human solidarity. It embraces
reasons for life and action that are still prevalent in certain societies and numerous social classes: the joy
of public giving; the pleasure in generous expenditure on the arts, in hospitality, and in the public and
private festival. Social security, the solicitude arising from reciprocity and co-operation, and that of the
occupational grouping . . . all are of greater value than the mere personal security that the lord afforded
his tenant, better than the skimpy life that is given through the daily wages doled out by employers, and
even better than capitalist savingwhich is only based on a changing form of credit. [Mauss 1990
(1950):69]
Certain forms of credit or gifts, whether material or symbolic, have determined the fate of
indigenous populations in Brazil. The Yanomami have been cast aside as "primitive" rather than
"modern" individuals because they "do not even know how to count" (O Estado de Sad Paulo
1993). This "lack of numeracy" has been used to impede the Yanomami from participating in
decision-making processes regarding the size of their officially demarcated territory, health care
solutions, schooling, and so on (CCPY 1989). Being "primitive" is, according to the common
notes
Acknowledgments. I dedicate this piece to the memory of my father, Professor Jorge Leal Ferreira, who
devoted his life to the study of mathematics and physics. To my colleagues in the Diauarum Indian
Schoolthe Kayabi, Suya, Juruna, and Panara, and especially to Nunu Juruna, my weaving teacher in the
Xingu ParkI owe my first insights into cross-cultural values and symbolic properties of mathematics. I am
especially indebted to Adriana Petryna for her critical reading of the manuscript. Ivo Patarra, Carlos Leal
Ferreira, Joao Biehl, and Leba Morimoto also contributed with valuable suggestions. This research was
funded by grants provided by the Brazilian agencies CNPq, FAPESP, and FORD-ANPOCS.
1. The cruzeiro, the monetary unit of Brazil at the time, was replaced by the real in July 1994.
2. FUNAI expeditions to contact "isolated" Indians are still called pacification fronts. The image of
pacification derives both from the fact that Portuguese colonizers called Indians beasts and pagans (i.e.,
creatures needing pacification (Perrone-Moiss 1992]) and from the natives' resistance to such "civilizing"
attempts. The term animal taming was also used by non-Indians to describe pacification well into this century
(Nimuendaju 1952:432 as cited in Oliveira 1969:47). In Brazil there are today approximately 75 Indian
tribes living in isolation from the broader Brazilian society (FUNAI n.d.)that is, as yet not "pacified" or
"contacted." "Pacified" Indians are usually hired by FUNAI to serve as potential translators when approach-
ing the group to be contacted and as jungle guides, cargo haulers, and providers of firewood, drinking water,
and game. The Juruna, for example, participated in the pacification of the Suya in 1958 (Ferreira
1994a:38-40), the Kayap6-Metuktire in that of the Panara (Ferreira 1994a:216-217), and the Kayabi in that
of the Arara (Ferreira 1994a:111-117).
3. The documented history of the Xingu populations dates back to the late 1800s, when the German
explorer Karl von den Steinen described his exploratory expedition to central Brazil (Steinen 1942). The
southernmost area of the parkUpper Xinguis inhabited by communities (such as the Kuikuru and
Yawalapiti) that have occupied the area for at least 400 years (Franchetto 1992:341). The northern section
of the parkLower Xinguwas increasingly populated, from the mid-1800s on, by tribes (Juruna and Suya,
among others) seeking refuge from Portuguese settlers and missionaries, fur traders, gold prospectors, and
rubber tappers. Waterfalls and rapids along the Xingu River made the arealater a reservationinaccessible
to the so-called civilizing fronts of northern Brazil. Other groups (Panara, Kayabi, and Tapayuna) were
brought in as of the mid-1950s, as mentioned above.
4. The first contact between the Juruna and Portuguese missionaries was in 1655 (Oliveira 1969:6). In
1842 Adalberto( 1977[1847]: 185) reported that of the nine Juruna villages he visited in the state of Para,
"seven had successfully been Christianized." Adalberto estimated that in 1842 the total Juruna population
was approximately 2,000.
5. These figures are from Travassos 1984:27 and CEDI 1990. Canisio Kayabi estimates (he total Kayabi
population before the arrival of the Portuguese settlers as 2,000 individuals (see Ferreira 1994a:132).
6. This figure is according to Schultz 1960 as cited in Seeger 1981:54 and CEDI 1990.
7. In 1980, for instance, several Xingu peoples joined together to kill 11 peoes (individuals working off
indebtedness, or peons) who were logging inside the park (Ferreira 1994a 202-204). The Xingu War, enacted
against FUNAI in 1984, is also a clear example of how hostilities among peoples of the Xingu Park gave
way to intertribal alliances that eventually came to cede the indigenous societies' right to self-determination
and respect for their constitutional rights (Lea and Ferreira 1984).
references cited