Organization: Emory University
To fully comprehend the shock I felt upon arriving in Kalanisi you have to understand my situation. A 21-year-old gay male, I was--to be quite blunt about it--incredibly hunky, possessing not only rugged good looks (dark curly hair, steely blue eyes, the classic square jaw) but a drop dead gorgeous, gym-toned body, 6'2" tall and 230 lbs. of solid muscle. I was v-e-r-y popular with both the boys and the girls (who tried but never quite succeeded in getting into my pants) back at Midwestern State University.
A microbiologist in training, I leapt at the chance to spend the summer between my junior and senior years travelling up the Amazon River and then even further into the jungle to Kalanisi, a Native American village not previously visited by American or European research scientists, reputed to be the site of extremely rare and potentially very useful flora and fauna.
Manoel, the Brazilian who met me at Porto-Novo, was short and swarthy and rather squat, rather what I expected (I'm ashamed to say) to find. His eyes widened slightly while taking in my height and musculature--a glance I was familiar with even at a Big 10 football school like Midwestern--but the words that came next took me by surprise.
"Are you visiting relatives in Kalanisi?" he said, wrinkling his brow.
"Why, no, of course not," I answered. "Why on earth would you ask?"
He shrugged expressively, then scratched his head.
"You'll see when we get there..."
And so I did, five hours later, after we had driven, then boated, then walked 50 miles into the interior. As it turns out, Kalanisi is at the center of a large grassy area--a small savannah, really--close to one of several mesas that dot the northern portion of the Amazon basin. The last stretch, through dense, dark forest, ended abruptly, when we entered a large clearing, brilliantly sunny.
"Welcome," a soft but very deep, powerful voice called out in badly accented Portuguese.
The sun was so bright that it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. When they did, it was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping.
Manoel was somewhat nervously standing in front of what appeared to be a giant of a man, although I quickly realized that he was actually just a very tall one. At 5'8" Manoel was fairly average for this region and this man--whose name, it turned out, was Xochimi--was fully a foot taller. Still, at 6'8" tall he was half a foot taller than I was--and he was incredibly well-built. If I were any judge, Xochimi easily weighed 300 lbs.--and not an ounce of fat on his massive, muscular body.
Manoel introduced me and Xochimi and I exchanged a few pleasantries. Although his Portuguese was bad, I have a talent for languages and I quickly engaged him in teaching me the native Kalinisi language.
We had quite a delightful conversation during the 20 minutes or so we spent walking to the village, so much so that I began to wonder if the pings that were registering on my gaidar really were something other than just wishful thinking.
Eventually, though, the conversation ground to a halt as we began to see more and more of the Kalanisi visitors and I realized...
"My God, they're ALL huge...!"
Yes, as it turns out, at 6'2" and 230 lbs. of solid muscle, I was no more than average height for a Kalanisi male. Three out of four men I saw were as tall and as muscular as I, very few appeared to be any smaller, and many were nearly as tall and as well-built as Xochimi.
"What's going on here," I wondered to myself, then reaized, "That's what I'm here to find out, isn't it?"
End of Part 1
IN THE VILLAGE
The village consisted of some 50 circular houses, each constructed of stone with thatched roofs. Xochimi made a great show of introducing me to all the men and women and children of the village, so much so that I was only peripherally aware that the stones used to construct the houses were, well, rather larger than you might expect normally, each of a size that two average men (taking Manoel as average) might have some difficulty carrying.
In the village I was further struck by the handsomeness of everyone. The women, especially, were particularly striking, all of them tall--I guessed the average must be about 5'10" with many as tall as I and a one or two taller. Altogether some 500 people resided in the village...
Eventually Xochimi led Manoel and me to the largest house, in the exact center of the concentric circles that made up the village. This hosue was easily twice as large as all the others and directly in front of it stood a large wooden carving of a tremendous spider.
It was only then that I realized that all of the homes were decorated with stylized representations of spiders--and that every single man, woman, and child in Kalanisi bore a spider tattoo somewhere visible on his or her body. Some were on their faces, others on hands, shoulders, arms, legs--Xochimi's was on his left forearm.
I glanced quizzically at Manoel.
"It means 'spider,' you know, 'Kalanisi' does," he said sotto voce.
"Kalanisi," said Xochimi, then repeated the Portuguese word for spider.
With that, the people of the village suddenly began drifting away and only Xochimi, Manoel and I stood before the central building.
"I will not be staying the night," Manoel said. "I have a camp a few miles back which I need to check. Good luck!"
I shook his hand and watched the short, thick man scurrying back to the forest. He disappeared quickly into the thick foliage...
Xochimi took me into the central house and I immediately saw the reason for the sudden disappearance of all the villagers--the men and women had all entered from the other side of the building, with each group assembled in rings, one male, one female around a central fire. And next to that fire sat a man who was even taller and bigger than Xochimi, although quite thoroughly old.
"My grandfather, Tzinixo," Xochimi said, with obvious pride--and perhaps a hint of sadness? "Our 'gzitlaan'..." he added, incomprehensibly.
"Come to me, boy..." Tzinixo said in a voice so deep and profound that Xochimi sounded like a tenor by comparison.
I walked toward him, tall and broad, and the rows of men and women parted in front of me. Standing before the low cloth covered bench on which he sat I realized that even sitting he could look me straight in the eye.
Judging by the wrinkles in his skin and the pure white gloss of his hair I estimated--correctly, I found out later--Tzinixo's age at between 75 and 80 years. And still he was massively muscular, weighing even more than Xochimi did and possessing a gauntness that made me realize he must have been still bigger, perhaps much more so, in his prime.
"Holy shit," I realized, swallowing nervously, "this geezer's chest is wider than my shoulders are..."
Not something you run into every day, especially not when you have a 53-inch chest and 60-inch shoulders.
"Leave us," he said softly, and the entire village, save Xochimi, filed out.
End of Part II
In the House of the Spider
"Come closer boy," Tzinixo rumbled again and this time I moved forward.
I bowed my head slightly, then introduced myself, Derek van Sant, three times--once in English, once in Portuguese, once in the Kalanisi language.
The last caused Tzinixo's eyes to twinkle and he leaned forward to drop a massive hand, easily twice the size of my own, heavily onto my shoulder.
"What brings you hence, my son?" he inquired and I realized that I was absorbing Kalanisi even more quickly than I would normally acquire a language--as if it were something I once knew and was beginning to remember.
"I'm a, um, student of plants and animals, gzitlaan," I replied, echoing the form of address Xochimi had used. "In my country we have heard that the plants and animals of your land have many fine healing properties..."
Tzinixo nodded sagely, but then added:
"Yes, but our country is also one filled with great peril, you see. For every plant or insect that gives life, two more take it away. Sometimes they do both..."
I knit my brow, puzzled, trying to make sure I was understanding his words.
"Consider Kalanis," he murmured, and I realized that his pronunciation was slightly different from Manoel's, the k having ore of a Hebrew ch sound, as well as a "sh" sound for the terminal "s." Moreover, the tone of Tzinixo's voice caused me to realize that he used the term not just as a noun but as a name and an honorific.
"Our Lord Kalanis, King of All Spiders," I murmured to myself.
"Exactly," Tzinixo answered, and I realized I'd been speaking in the Kalanisi tongue and not realizing it.
"In our land, Kalanis gives life to those who can endure his sting. Most 'gaachi' (Tzinixo's words for anyone who wasn't Kalanisi, I later learned) die if they are bitten but we Kalanisi almost always survive and grow strong. Some, moreover, accrue his blessings, as I have done."
With that he stood and turned, beckoning Xochimi and me to follow.
Tzinixo's great height nearly reached the rafters as we walked toward the east wall of the round house, wherein resided a carved replica of the round house--and Lord Kalanis himself.
I gasped when I realized what I was seeing.
Kalanis, lord of these people, was a giant spider, fully two feet across and a good 18 inches in height. Beautifully gaudy, he sported a red skin, with yellow and black markings.
I gasped again when Tzinixo lifted the giant spider from its bedding and cradled it in his arms, as you or I would cradle a housecat. Lord Kalanis waved his legs and batted his pincers, GENTLY gnawing on Tzinixo's forearm.
"Come and caress our lord, young friend," Tzinixo commanded. "So long as I am holding him, nothing can harm you."
END OF PART III