Builders clearing land for a housing project in Colombia have uncovered an ancient burial site containing nearly a thousand tombs linked to two little-known civilizations.
2 May, 2008 - It was the eighth day of the 11th month of the dog year. Sangay Wangdi, a farmer of Karshong village in Trongsa, was out playing archery when he started acting strange all of a sudden.
am a woman who flies. I am the sacred eagle woman. There was Karita Mattila, tall as a tower, and clad in canary-yellow kaftan, raising those great arms and that great voice, to give the British premiere of Kaija Saariaho's Mirage, her new work for soprano, cello and orchestra.
Douglas McMeekin was a failed businessman in Kentucky, and Juan Kunchikuy was a hunter in a remote nook of the Amazon rain forest who killed monkeys, deer and wild pigs with a blowgun and poison darts. Now this unlikely pair has joined forces in a remarkable campaign to save the rain forest, the lungs of the earth that suck up the carbon we spew out. Of all the struggles to fight climate change, this is one of the more quixotic and inspiring.
A new religion is spreading to Britain - its central sacrament the consumption of a hallucinogenic Class A drug. Here's a report from the faith's heartland in the rainforests of the Amazon
In a way, ritual objects from indigenous Amazonian tribes may seem out of place in a museum.
After ceremonies are performed, it is expected that the elaborate feathered headdresses, ghostly masks and colorful body costumes in "Vanishing Worlds: Art and Ritual in Amazonia" wither away in the heat and humidity of the rain forest.
Can a psychotropic jungle potion cure the existential angst of the McMansion set?
In an affluent corner of encinitas, just north of San Diego, a young medicine man named Lobo Siete Truenos sits cross-legged on the polished wood floors of a backyard temple. Here in this suburban sanctuary, behind the gates of a faux-Spanish villa, just past the manicured lawn and an artificial lagoon,...
NINACACA, Peru High in the Peruvian Andes, a shaman rubs a fluffy white rabbit all over Chris Kilhams body, murmuring in Quechua, the language of these barren plains. Then she slits the animals throat and lets the blood run into a tiny grave.
To Mr. Kilham, the offering an appeal to the gods for a bountiful harvest of maca, a local tuber is just another day at the office.
Four decades after it was abandoned, King Island holds an almost mystical pull for former residents and their offspring, its crumbling homes still perched eerily high on stilts, clinging to the steep, rocky face of an unforgiving terrain.
Until recently, little else remained of the Inupiat Eskimo village that wasn't held in traditions and memories or unknown collections and museums across the nation.
