The Shipibo-Konibo of Peru and the Sacredness of Language

Language is sacred. It is how we speak sacred stories into the world and, in return, how the world tells stories back to us. Language and the words it is composed offer a bridge between humans. They allow us to communicate, connect, and commune.

But what happens when we begin to lose these ancient languages spoken by the Mother Tree and her saplings across the globe? What will we do when we no longer understand the sacred wisdom of our elders, both in our community and across the globe?

Clemence Lobert and the Moatian Joibo project are addressing these very questions among the indigenous Shipibo-Konibo in the Amazon Rainforest of Peru. Their work focuses on the sacred Noya Rao tree. Also known as the Komankaya myth, this has sustained and provided great wisdom to the people there for generations.

For the past decade, Clemence has served as a translator for this community and the Western visitors who often travel to Peru for healing rituals. She has also studied under the teachings of the Mahua family, a renowned lineage of Shipibo-Konibo healers.

The Shipibo Konibo

The Shipibo-Konibo have long inhabited the land around the Ucayali River. Their wisdom and rituals are shaped deeply by this land and their conversations with it. Despite the efforts of European colonizers, this community has also held on to its original language. In the process of communing with this familiar land, the Shipibo-Konibo have become known globally for their natural healing rituals through plant medicine like ayahuasca.

Their home, language, history, and practice are all sources of great pride for the Shipibo-Konibo. But they are also the site of significant complications in our increasingly modern world.

For example, if you travel to Peru, you will likely hear many people speaking Spanish. This widespread influence of language and culture dates back to the sixteenth century when Spanish colonists conquered the Inca empire. That early colonial influence persists into the present, as learning Indigenous languages is not an educational requirement for children in school. As a result, these languages are slowly dying and with them, access to the wisdom and rituals of their ancestors.

Young people in the Shipibo-Konibo community are also increasingly disinterested in the history and legacy of their ancestors and the native rituals and healing practices of their homeland. As access to Western media and entertainment grows, young adults in Peru are caught up in systems of capitalism, efficiency, and mass consumption.

This fascination is further flamed as tourists from the West travel to Peru for healing rituals like ayahuasca retreats, bringing with them a different understanding of the world and our place in it. Their Western logics and modern imagination clash with local culture. Even worse, they rarely take the time to truly learn the language, stories, and history of the Shipibo-Konibo community so they might absorb the ancient wisdom of the Noya Rao tree. For young people and tourists alike, the slow, intentional, attuned life of their elders feels antiquated and inefficient.

Echoing a Larger Lack of Respect for Spirit

The tension between the older cohort of Shipibo-Konibo elders and younger or foreign groups echoes a more expansive problem. There is a negative perception and even a stigmatization of those who embrace an indigenous lifestyle. For readers in the United States, this is akin to the skepticism and, at times, outright demonization of Indigenous peoples in the Americas.

These are groups who continue to face hostility at a systemic and communal level. The Shipibo-Konibo can relate. Their way of living and being centers on communing with and listening to the earth, which leads to another crucial factor.

At the core of these complications is a deeper spiritual problem: the indigenous Shipibo-Konibo are not viewed as sacred by their community. Their heritage is not seen as spiritually significant. Rather than a well of wisdom, the rituals and practices of the Shipibo-Konibo are perceived as antiquated and outdated. In a community increasingly enthralled with the trappings of modern civilization, the slow reward of spiritual devotion is passed by.

This raises a key question: How can you recognize and recover the sacredness of your heritage and the language that uniquely preserves it?

Preserving (and Telling) Sacred Stories

For Clemence Lobert, the answer to preserving the faith and spirituality of a culture’s past lies in the sacred stories we tell. Through the Moatian Joibo project, Clemence has spent nearly a decade learning from the Shipibo-Konibo. She has sat under the teachings of Manuela Mahaua, a 76-year-old healer who carries with her a long lineage of Shipibo-Konibo healers (Onanya).

Moatian Joibo takes up the task of recording, transcribing, and translating the stories of the Shipibo-Konibo. As Clemence describes this project, “emphasizes language revitalization and cultural preservation by documenting the language as spoken by elders, which retains its original structure and vocabulary.”

This sacred work is of great importance for this healing community. As the Shipibo-Konibo elders pass on, their ancient and indigenous imaginations of humanity’s relationship to the world fade with it. The Moatian Joibo project aims to “safeguard this sacred knowledge for future generations, ensuring that the spiritual wisdom of the Shipibo people continues to thrive.”

The Role of Language in Myth

Language plays a central role in this work because, for this community, the indigenous Shipibo-Konibo language is the mother tongue of the Komankaya myth. It is easy to think of this like a sacred text written centuries ago in an ancient language. When we read that text in English today, we can understand its meaning on the surface.

But we must remember that elements of the text are lost in translation. This is because language is always tied to a context. It is communicated through the lens of the place where words are spoken. It reflects the thoughts, understanding, and worldview of the people who participate in that communication.

The importance of the Moatian Joibo project lies in its effort to maintain the first language of the Noya Rao tree. This is not meant to be exclusive. Those who speak other languages can still receive this wisdom and benefit from the plant medicine that grows under its shade.

However, preserving the language acknowledges that something sacred is lost when we let these ancient words fade into the unknown. This reflects a deeper, spiritual lesson, too. When we prioritize efficiency and convenience over the long and hard work of attuning ourselves to the Sacred, we can lose an integral part of our histories, our heritages, and our language.

This is why the Moatian Joibo project understands language as a sacred “technology” and spiritual medicine. The importance of preserving and teaching language is not bound solely to their reverence for ancient traditions, but the active healing and transformation that the Noya Rao provides. In a world — and local community — that turns to secular solutions, the Moatian Joibo’s language-preserving project fosters sacred, communal and personal transformation.

This earned ancient wisdom and spiritual transformation requires us to sacrifice our time, energy, and desire. It requires seasons of fasting, of long meditation, and of abstinence and learning. To truly commune with the wisdom of the trees and plants of this community, we must cultivate a clear mind.

Preserving Ancient Wisdom and Spirituality Through Sacred Language

The wisdom of the Shipibo-Konibo is deep and wide. Generations of healers and teachers have shaped this community, which continues to draw people, like Clemence, from around the world, and its language is a key component of its enduring wisdom and sacred status.

To sit under these teachings and truly participate in the healing of ancestral medicine requires a great deal of sacrifice. This comes through long seasons of fasting, isolation, and abstinence. It can also come through learning and preserving the language in which this culture was forged – a sacrifice that few are willing to make. Yet, for those willing to embark on this sacred learning and healing journey, the reward for knowledge and renewal awaits.

By Amar Peterman