Kamukuwaká, the original sacred cave, holds the myths that shape the customs and culture of Indigenous people in the Upper Xingu, a rainforest area surrounded by soybean plantations in central Brazil. Unfortunately, the cave sits on private farmland outside the protected Indigenous territory and was partially destroyed in 2018, when ancient carvings known as petroglyphs were deliberately damaged. The perpetrators have not been identified.
In the early hours before dawn, the Wauja people of Ulupuwene, an Indigenous village in the Brazilian Amazon, are already up preparing for a special day. The melodies of clarinet-like instruments echo across the village, located on the Batovi River, as women sweep the earth between traditional thatched houses known as oca. Men decorate their bodies with charcoal and vivid red achiote seeds. As the sun rises over the rainforest, the entire community—men, women, and children—gathers in the village center for singing and dancing.
The occasion is the day-long ritual dances celebrating the inauguration of a life-sized replica of the sacred Kamukuwaká cave, housed in the first Indigenous museum in the Xingu region. This event symbolizes not only a celebration but also an act of resistance, as the Wauja aim to protect their cultural heritage, preserve traditions for future generations, and highlight the dangers posed by climate change and local extractive activities.
“This is a symbol of our strength, our struggle, and our unity with other Xingu peoples,” says Elewoká Waurá, the chief of Ulupuwene, as he addresses Wauja relatives who have traveled from other villages to join the celebration.
“That’s the source of our songs, rituals, and body paintings,” explains Akari Waurá, a singer and chief of Tepepeweke village. As a child, he visited the cave with his father and uncles, learning the legend of Kamukuwaká, the first Wauja chief, while tracing the carvings that depict symbols of female fertility, fish, dragonflies, and other forest creatures. For Akari, the loss of the petroglyphs “felt like losing our family.” Without those carvings, he asks, “How will we know our story? Who will teach us? Our culture will fade.”
The Wauja, one of 16 ethnic groups residing in the Xingu Indigenous territory, an area nearly the size of Belgium, have long fought to defend their way of life. Since their land was declared a protected area in 1961, threats from intensive agriculture, drying up of key rivers, illegal logging, land theft, and unsustainable fishing practices have increased. The Wauja’s persistent advocacy led to an expansion of the protected area in the late 1990s to include the Batovi territory, where Ulupuwene is located. However, the Kamukuwaká cave remains outside the protected borders, posing accessibility and safety challenges.
Listed as a national heritage site in 2016, the cave’s preservation faced further risks even before the vandalism, including nearby river silting, planned highway construction, and inappropriate use by non-Indigenous visitors who would leave trash behind. “It’s a living book that is being destroyed,” says Ewésh Yawalapiti Waurá, director of the Xingu Indigenous Land Association (Atix).
To safeguard their ancestral culture, the Wauja found a modern solution: creating a replica of the cave using resin-coated polystyrene and polyurethane, developed with state-of-the-art 3D imaging technology. The project began after the damage was discovered in 2018, and following consultations with archaeologists, anthropologists, and the Wauja people, a nearly identical reproduction of the vandalized section was made in Spain by the Factum Foundation, a non-profit dedicated to cultural heritage preservation.
“I didn’t believe they could make the replica,” says Akari, who was the first Wauja to see the finished work in 2019. “When I saw it, I was impressed. I shared it with my community… and we decided to bring it back to the Xingu.”
The replica, measuring eight by four meters and weighing one tonne, arrived in Ulupuwene this month after a 5,000-mile journey by land and sea, and the local community assisted in assembling the six separate pieces. It now resides in an adobe-brick structure called the Cultural and Monitoring Centre.
The initiative is a collaboration between the Factum Foundation and People’s Palace Projects, an arts and research center affiliated with Queen Mary University of London, with active involvement from the Indigenous community at every stage. Elder Pere Yalaki Waurá helped to restore the lost markings from memory, ensuring the replica’s accuracy.
“The replica of Kamukuwaká has brought our knowledge into the modern age,” says the 67-year-old, recalling how earlier generations tried to pass on this history but couldn’t prevent some knowledge from fading as elders passed away. Her son Tukupe Waurá adds, “Now, not just the Wauja, but all the Xingu people and future generations can see the replica without risking their lives, as the real cave is far from their territory. This ensures the preservation of our culture, spirituality, and sensitivity.”
In Arawak, the term for replica—potalapitsi—can also mean photograph or engraving, underscoring the project’s role in keeping history and spirituality alive.
