After leading for twenty-six years the Apostolic Vicariate of Esmeraldas, on the north-western coast of Ecuador, Monsignor Eugenio Arellano offered his resignation having reached the age limit. His commitment to environmental protection and education will remain in the hearts of people. We met him.

Speaking of Esmeraldas, Bishop Arellano says: “Some say that Esmeraldas is a corner of Africa in the middle of Latin America, in fact, despite the racial and cultural mixing brought on by migratory movements, black culture prevails. There is a beautiful community humanism and spontaneous and wonderful solidarity in this place. The people of Esmeraldas have an innate positive attitude towards life.
They feel grateful to God and those who are grateful to Him are also grateful to the others.A smile always illuminates their face.
They smile even if they have many problems because they know that there is God who is good and who is with them, and this makes them feel strong and confident”.

Bishop Arellano, who turns 77 this month, has concluded a 26-year journey at the head of a Christian community, which has always had its bishop at its side in the days of the struggle for justice. During his long period of service in the vicariate, the bishop always supported the Afro-Ecuadorians, a forgotten people amongst Ecuadorians, and always asked out loud, also of the political authorities in power, to listen to the needs and demands of the needful people.
The Bishop says: “Esmeraldas is a poor city because its people have been denied opportunities and all the governments that have succeeded never wanted to face the oppressing poverty that negates the basic needs of people”.And in this context of poverty, the Church has tried to give answers. Bishop Arellano continues: “In recent years the Church has tried to create for the poor the opportunities that life has denied them. We have been engaged in serious educational programs and have strongly requested governments to guarantee education for all, because education is the only way out of poverty”.

The commitment of Bishop Arellano has given several concrete results such as the implementation of artisan training projects and workshops like that of carpentry for young people and adults, or other projects such as the Chicos de la Calle, which provides Ecuadorian working children and teens with educational support and spiritual formation in an effort to improve their living conditions and break the cycle of poverty. Other projects whose goals were the integration into society of young former gang members and former alcoholics, have also been carried out.
“Our Catholic university is a reference point. The centre is not selective, the cost of enrolment is very low and, moreover, the university offers scholarships to support the poorest students”, says the Bishop.

But Monsignor Arellano, along with the Afro organizations of the north and the Social Pastoral, also fought for the defence of nature and against illegal mining and deforestation. “For years we have been denouncing deforestation, mining abuses and, even if at times I had the impression of preaching in the desert, I know that our contribution was important. The Constitution of Ecuador is fantastic. In fact, in 2008 Ecuador took the extraordinary step of enshrining the legal rights of nature in its national constitution. It was the first country to grant inalienable, substantive rights to nature. This is why we protest against mining abuses and pollution in the rivers of Ecuador. We just demand of the political leaders that the Constitution be respected”.
The Bishop recalls the several pastoral initiatives of the Church in Esmeraldas. “As a Church we have given strong support to the family. We have carried out initiatives to strengthen family ties throughout the 27 parishes of the vicariate, and through the youth pastoral we teach a sense of fidelity and commitment to young people.  And finally, through the pastoral care of charity, we assist the poor and the sick by providing them food and medicines; this is particularly important during serious situations such as the pandemic that we have experienced”.

Speaking of the missionaries and local religious, the Bishop says: “I experienced the transition from missionaries to local clergy. The missionaries are spiritually rich, mature, and well-prepared people, but sooner or later they leave while it would be much more helpful if priests came to Esmeraldas to stay and carry on the projects they have started. Despite many difficulties, this local Church is gradually consolidating, perhaps with some imperfections but with its own identity. There are about 90 religious from many congregations, ready to share their life with the local people”.
Speaking of his future, Msgr. Arellano says: “I’m not planning to return to Europe, I will join a Comboni community in Tumaco, Colombia.  I feel really sorry to leave Esmeraldas but it is time for a new bishop to lead this vicariate. However, Tumaco is close to the vicariate of Esmeraldas and has the same social peculiarities. Furthermore, the Bishop of Tumaco is willing to welcome me and assign me a project. We will see what happens”.

Enrique Bayo

The Coronavirus pandemic has hit Brazil’s indigenous people even harder than the rest of the population. To protect themselves, some peoples retreated deep into the rainforest.

It’s seven o’clock in the morning when the Capuchin friar Paolo Braghini sits down in a small aluminium boat, starts the outboard and sails up the Igarapé de Belém, a wide river that winds through the Évare I Indigenous Reserve in north-western Brazil. The rainforest around the river is so dense that the shore is barely recognizable. Branches protrude over the water. Some trees stand like piles in the river. As soon as Brother Paolo has set off, the sky opens its floodgates and the wind hits thick drops in the face of the 45-year-old friar. It’s rainy season in the Amazon basin.
After two hours of sailing, Brother Paolo approaches the village of Nova Jutaí. Around 100 indigenous people from the Tikuna tribe live here. Some of them stand on the shore and wave to the missionary as he guides the boat towards the village. The Capuchin Paolo is an Italian and has been a missionary for 16 years in the Reserves Évare I and II. The missionary looks after around 100 indigenous villages. Some he reaches only after days of boat trips.

Brother Paolo has just docked when a swarm of cheering children leads the tall friar into the village. Nova Jutaí consists of a dozen wooden houses. They were erected on stilts so that they would not sink into the mud during the rainy season. Behind it the jungle begins, from which the screeching of birds can be heard from time to time.
First of all, the missionary pays a visit to the oldest man in the village. The 71-year-old Hortênsio Antônio founded the village 45 years ago and was only one of four people who fell ill with Covid-19 in the village. He has his own explanation of how this came about. “The virus attacked me while I was fishing”, he says in Tikuna. He sits in a hammock in the middle of a wooden house with almost no furniture. There are a few stools around, but for beds, tables, and cupboards one would look in vain. The Tikuna usually sit on the floor, they sleep on hangings or on bast mats.

“When I paddled back to the village in my canoe, I felt the fever rising in me”, Antônio continues. “It was Corona”. In the imagination of the Tikuna, all diseases have a master. Antônio is convinced that the Lord of the virus haunted him on the river. It is more likely that Antônio was infected by another villager who had previously been in the next larger village. Despite his age, Antônio is an agile man, he has full black hair and alert eyes. Only his missing front teeth indicate his advanced age.

Strong traditions
It was months ago that he contracted Covid-19. A few days he felt bad, then he felt better, says Antônio. He did not feel fear. After all, the Tikuna would have a cure: burning honeycombs and tree resin. He had inhaled the smoke. “He protected us”, says Antônio.
There were no deaths in Nova Jutaí, the settlement came through the pandemic well. Brother Paolo has his own explanation for this: “The village community is intact. During the pandemic, the villagers listened to the Kaziken, their chief, and only left the village in urgent cases. They wore masks, no one strayed. The indigenous tradition strengthened the village”. Meanwhile, Hortênsio Antônio is vaccinated, like everyone in the village. The indigenous people in the Évare Reserves were given preference in the distribution of the vaccine. Brother Paolo is very relieved: “I can visit my communities again”.
When the rain subsides in Nova Jutaí, the community moves into the small green-painted wooden church. The indigenous people lovingly decorated it with palm leaves and flowers.

The service begins with a sweeping song on Tikuna. Then Brother Paolo begins the divine service in the language of the indigenous people: “Numagüẽ!” — “Good day!”
After the celebration the community invites him to eat in the parish hall, which is open on all sides. To celebrate the day, the men shot a wild pig in the forest. There they kill monkeys and deer. Or they fish on the Igarapé de Belém, in which they lay out nets. The community sits together chatting. Everyone eats with their hands.
The families of Nova Jutaí own small fields on cleared forest areas where they grow plantains and cassava. The Amazon fruits Cupuaçu and Açaí are also important for the local economy. Their juice and pulp are bottled and sold at the market in Tabatinga, a border town with Colombia, five to six hours away by boat.
Social assistance also contributes to the maintenance of the village. From it, the Tikuna buy rice, sugar, and salt, but also consumer goods such as soap, kitchenware, and mobile phones. Although there is no mobile network in Nova Jutaí, the Tikuna also take selfies. They keep in touch with the outside world via radio. Electricity is generated by a diesel generator, which the residents start when needed.
It is dark when the missionary returns to Belém do Solimões, on the banks of the river of the same name. Here Brother Paolo lives with three friars in a brightly painted wooden house. Belém do Solimões is the largest indigenous settlement in Brazil with around 5,000 Tikuna.

Every evening they hold a service in a different neighbourhood. Their house is open to everyone at all times. Brother Paolo has created an Olympics, to which people travel from afar to compete in disciplines such as archery, canoeing, and fire-making.
“When I got here, there was no mission. At the time we were just two of us, it was very difficult”, he says. “Today, many indigenous people thank us for changing the place for the better. We have become part of their family”.The next day, Brother Paolo visits the shaman of Belém. The ‘Pajés’, as they are called in the language of the indigenous people, are spiritual and medical authorities. They are familiar with medicinal plants, natural medicine, and ancient rituals.
Tchopaweecü Üegücü is a quiet and modest-looking man. He thinks he is 58 years old. His name means ‘White beak of macaws’. The Pajé sits down. His gaze seems to be directed to a place far away. “At the beginning of the pandemic, I didn’t know if I was up to the virus”, he says. “Then I dreamed of a boat on the Rio Solimões. In it sat the Lord of the disease. But I was able to push the boat back onto the river because I knew that he fears bitter medicine”.

Üegücü advised people to burn honeycombs and resin and to inhale the smoke deeply. He also advised to drink tea made from leaves and herbs. In fact, studies have found that a tea made from the leaves of the Jambu herb has a strong soothing effect on breathing difficulties such as the type that occurs with Covid-19. Around 150 people fell ill with Covid-19 in Belém, so many of them visited the Pajé. “The spirits of the sick took refuge on the rivers, and I went there to retrieve them”, he says. Two people from the village died in the hospital in Manaus. Thus, the mortality rate in Belém is far below that of Brazil as a whole.
Finally, the Pajé’s wife starts a fire to burn honeycombs and resin. Brother Paolo takes a deep breath of the smoke. To say goodbye, he hugs the Pajé. You can feel the respect and sympathy of the two men for each other. They are the religious signposts of Belém. Both give people support and orientation.

Philipp Lichterbeck/Kontinente