SCIENCE


Title: Black Gold of the Amazon
Author: Michael Tennesen
Source:  DISCOVER, April 2007, p. 68
Data Base: C

BLACK GOLD OF THE AMAZON

(Fertile, charred soil created by pre-Columbian peoples sustained 
surprisingly large settlements in the rain forest. Secrets of that 
ancient "dark earth" could help solve the Amazons ecological
problems today.)

by Michael Tennesen

On August 13, 2005, a Saturday evening, American archaeologist James 
Petersen, Brazilian archeologist Eduardo Neves, and several others 
pulled up to a restaurant on a jungle road near Iranduba in the 
Brazilian Amazon to have a beer. At about 6:45 p.m., two young men, 
one brandishing a 38 revolver, entered the restaurant and demanded 
the patrons' money. The archeologists turned over their money and 
the bandits started to leave. Then, almost as an afterthought, one 
of them shot Peterson in the stomach. Neves and the others raced 
Petersen to the hospital, but their friend bled to death before they 
could reach help.

State and municipal police reacted quickly to the news, cordoned off 
roads, and brought suspects to the restaurant for identification. 
Within 24 hours they had arrested the two armed bandits and their 
driver and learned there were two others involved. The crime was 
front-page news in Manaus, the capital of the state, a city of more 
than a million, about an hour north of the study site, across the 
Rio Negro. After a 21-day manhunt through the jungle, the remaining 
two fugitives were captured, and when the state police brought the 
criminals back, the Iranduba Chief of Police, Normando Barbosa says, 
"There were hundreds of people lined up on the road that wanted to 
lynch the killers." 

Over the past decade, Petersen, Neves, and their band of archeologists 
had become local heroes, earning the appreciation of the surrounding 
community during seasonal digs conducted on the peninsula that 
separated the Rio Negro and Amazon Rivers. At over 100 sites across 
the peninsula, Peterson and his colleagues had unearthed evidence of 
early civilizations that were far more advanced, far more broadly 
connected, and far more densely occupied than the small bands of 
nomadic hunter-gatherers previously hypothesized for the region. 
Before the Europeans arrived, this peninsula in the heart of the Amazon 
was home to communities with roads, irrigation, agriculture, soil 
management, ceramics, and extended trade. These civilizations, Neves 
says, were as complex as the southwest Native American cultures that 
inhabited Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde. But due to the scarcity of 
stone in the Amazon, the people built with wood, and over time the 
structures disintegrated, leaving little evidence of the culture. 

One legacy, however, remains: their soil. "Terra preta do Indio"
-Portuguese for Indian black earth-is prized among local farmers, 
and it is a direct contribution of the vanished Amazonian cultures. 
While most Amazonian earth is notoriously nutrient-poor, yellowish, 
sterile, and unscented, there are extensive patches of soil that are 
mysteriously dark, moist, fragrant, and filled with insects, microbial 
life, and organic matter. Scholars have come to realize that by 
devising a way to enrich the soil, the early inhabitants of the Amazon 
managed to create a foundation for agriculture-based settlements much 
more populous than scholars had thought possible. 

Petersen had called the soil a gift from the past, and he believed it 
would reveal the region's past cultures in a new, much more complex 
light. At the time of his death, he and his colleagues had been developing 
a workshop for teachers in the region on the science and archaeology 
surrounding terra preta. The discovery held meaning for more than 
archaeologists, however. Figuring out the composition of dark earth-and 
how it was formed-offers a way to improve not only soil fertility for 
small farmers, but also to curb carbon emissions from the fires that 
small farmers set to clear the forest.  Yet after Peterson's murder 
the project was shut down, and those that had gathered for both the 
workshop and the August field season were sent home. Had the Amazon 
proved too dangerous for such a gathering? 

****

In 1542, the Spanish explorer Francisco de Orellana ventured into the 
Amazon Basin and along the Rio Negro to hunt for the mythic city of El 
Dorado and its rumored treasure of gold. Instead his expedition found 
a network of farms, villages, and cities. "His chronicles describe 
large villages, long range trade networks, paramount chiefs almost 
like nobility, and they talked about the Amazon being highly 
populated," says Neves. 

No one ever saw those populations again. 

The first scientists who studied the Amazon found little evidence to 
support Orellana's claims of large populations. As productive and 
lush as the rainforest appeared, the soil it stood on was dirt poor. 	

Betty J. Meggers, a Smithsonian archeologist who worked in the Amazon 
from the mid 1900s, referred to the region as "A Counterfeit 
Paradise." The apparent lushness existed only because the vegetation 
was so good at sucking up every speck of nutrient released from 
decaying leaves. Any nutrients remaining in the soil washed away in 
the frequent rains. In short, the local soil was ill-suited for 
agriculture, and without agriculture, societies would remain small.

The outcome of the slash-and-burn agriculture that is practiced today 
supports that view. In this method, settlers cut down forests and burn 
the cover in order to grow crops in the nitrogen and mineral-rich ash 
that is left behind. But the soil in these denuded plots is productive 
for only a few years before it reverts to its original nutrient-poor 
state. The lack of agricultural potential helped popularize a model of 
the Pre-Columbian occupation that anthropologist Michael Heckenberger 
of the University of Florida, TK town, describes as "the myth of 
stone-age savages frozen at the dawn of time."

Heckenberger's own experience had led him to question that view. In the 
early '90s, while living with the Kuikuro Indigenous tribe in the upper 
Xingu region-about 600 miles southeast of Manaus-he discovered a ruling 
class structure more complex than needed for a group of only 300 people. 
Could there have been a grander past? When he dug beyond the village 
borders he found vast amounts of broken pottery, along with evidence of 
a giant plaza, roads, causeways, canals, and even bridges-the remains 
of an earlier, much larger civilization. 

In the mid-1990s Heckenberger invited Peterson, his former teacher, to 
spend time at his field site. After visiting the Kuikuro in the Xingu, 
they took a short excursion, traveling up the Rio Negro from its 
junction with the Amazon at Manaus. One day Heckenberger headed out by 
himself on a boat that ended up on a Rio Negro beach, where a farmer 
was tilling the soil and turning up mounds of broken ceramics embedded 
in coal-black terra preta. Heckenberger could see that this rich soil 
extended over an area two miles along the Rio Negro shore. He collected 
some pottery samples and took them back to show Petersen, a ceramics 
expert. The abundance of the pottery piqued Peterson's growing interest 
in the mystery of Amazon settlements. 

In the months to follow, the two worked to develop a project around the 
site with Neves, and the Central Amazon Project was born. They wrote up 
institutional agreements, permits, got seed money, and began fieldwork 
in 1995. Their early finds seemed to challenge the Meggers' vision of 
the pre-Columbian Amazon, so the group turned to another model proposed 
by Donald Lathrap, an archeologist at University of Illinois. In the 
1960s, he had hypothesized from linguistic and ceramic evidence that the 
confluence of the Amazon, Rio Negro, and Madera rivers may have been the 
heart of an agriculturally-based civilization that once extended from 
the Caribbean to Southern Brazil.  

Heckenberger left the Central Amazon Project in 1999 to concentrate on 
the Kuikuro, but Petersen and Neves continued. Over the years, 
excavation expanded beyond the original site, called Acutuba, to 
include other spots in a 20-square mile area on the peninsula that 
juts between the Amazon and Rio Negro Rivers. Gradually funding switched 
from U.S. institutions to predominantly Brazilian, and Neves took more 
of an oversight capacity. But Petersen continued to participate every 
summer. In a 2005 interview with the Vermont Quarterly, Peterson called 
his Central Amazon research "some of the richest, most exciting 
archeology anywhere on the planet."

****

In August of 2006, the archeologists of the Central Amazon Project touch 
down at the international airport in Manaus and travel two hours by boat 
and car to Iranduba. It is the first time the members-up to 30 or 40 
depending on the day-have gathered since Petersen's death. Eduardo Neves 
oversees the project, coordinating the comings and goings of the 
visiting archeologists like a proud parent. Eleven years after its 
founding, the Project has expanded from the initial Autuba site to 10 
active excavations out of more than 100 Pre-Columbian sites discovered 
on this small peninsula. 

Neves is eager to introduce the group's excavation sites, which he 
believes represent a microcosm of what was going on in prehistoric times 
along the flood plains of the Amazon River. The oldest site, Donna 
Stella, contains artifacts that have been dated as far back as 7000 BC. 
According to Fernando Costa, a Ph.D. student at the University of Sao 
Paulo who runs this site, Donna Stella was a quarry, one of the rare 
spots in the Amazon that had stone hard enough to make tools. "The 
people here had projectile points, axes, scrappers, at least 10 to 
15 kinds of tools in all," Costa says. 

Yet traces of habitation vanish after about 1500 years "and we don't 
see them until more than 5000 years later, " Neves says. He suspects 
the people may have vanished due to a longterm drought. Whatever the 
reason, humans do not reappear in the Central Amazon until about 
300 BC. The culture of the time is known as the Autuba phase, and 
"people are already farmers, playing around with a variety of domestic 
plants, and making fancy, elaborate ceramics," Neves says.

In the afternoon, Neves takes me to the Hatahara site, about eight 
miles from Donna StellaCK, which contains traces of a more agricultural 
way of life. Here pottery shards litter the ground. At one of the 
site's two excavations, the broken bits stick out from the earthen walls 
of a large square pit. The layers of protruding pottery are so tight 
and thick they look almost like wall coverings.

The Hatahara site showcases four separate occupations by sedentary farmers. 
The people of the Autuba phase, who are thought to have come from 
the Caribbean coast, may have been the first to settle the area, living 
in villages up to five acresCK in size, with each supporting 100 to 200 
people. Neves believes that they lived on fish, wild meats, palms, 
fruits, and manioc, a root that can grow in poorer soils year round. 
Although this early culture had only rudimentary agricultural practices, 
Neves says, the plant and animal refuse they were leaving provided the 
substrate for future terra preta soils.

Helena Lima, a PhD student at the University of Sao Paulo, is trying to 
pinpoint when and how this soil was used to support greater populations 
in the Amazon Basin. She sees a stark difference between the Autuba 
phase, from 300 BC to 400 AD, and the later Manacapuru phase from 400 
to 900 AD. "The Manacapuru were the first people who really changed the 
soil," she says.

The terra preta soils at Hatahara and the other sites are made from a 
mixture of plant refuse and animal and fish bones, along with large 
quantities of charcoal deposited when settlers, lacking tools stronger 
than stone, used stone axes and slow-burning fires to clear forest. 
Such smoldering fires produced more charcoal than ash. The charcoal, 
soot, and other carbon remains (collectively called bio-char) in turn 
retained more nutrients, particularly potassium and phosphorous, 
which are limited in tropical soils. The resulting improvement in soil 
fertility may have supported a larger, more stable crop-based population, 
although studies of fossilized pollen have not yet revealed the plants 
cultivated. 

The next phase, the Paredo, occurred from about 700 to 1200 AD, and 
Neves suspects the Paredao were outsiders from the south. The 
occupation is peaceful, though, and the Paredo and the Manacapuru 
live and trade with each other.

The Paredo exploited terra preta soils even more than their 
predecessors. While the initial settlers in this area may have built 
the dark soils by accident, William Woods, director of environmental 
studies at the University of Kansas, says,  "at some point they recognize 
their importance and start to promote them." Over time, the villages of 
the Paredo become larger, denser, and surrounded by agricultural fields. 
Populations grow into the thousands in sites ranging from five to 40 
acres, and the lack of fortification strongly suggests that the people 
lived in peace. 

But around 1200 , the Guarita people from the east start to threaten, 
and the Paredo begin building defensive structures. This phase lasts 
into the European occupation. Over the same period, the Paredo vanish. 
The Guarita apparently moved in from areas near the mouth of the Amazon, 
which have even more terra preta soils than the Paredo, and bring with 
them wilder, multicolored styles of pottery. 

"They are like the Barbarians attacking the Romans," Neves speculates. 
He suspects that the newcomers may also have had a valuable 
possession-corn. This new, more nutritious staple requires better 
soils, and it is not unreasonable to suspect that Guarita drove the 
Paredo out to take over their terra preta. 

The condition of the interred remains suggests that the inhabitants of 
all four occupations were robust-a wellbeing that extended even after 
death. In their catalog of the  site's human remains, Anne Rapp and her 
husband Claide Moraes, both students at the University of Sao Paulo, 
find evidence that hints at ceremonial procedures, priests, and 
perhaps a cottage industry of funerary artisans as well. 

Although the Central Amazon may not have been the center of the empire 
that Lathrop envisioned, the evidence from these culturesCK doesn't 
match up at all to Meggers' idea of a stunted, counterfeit paradise. 

****


As thrilling as this evidence is for archaeologists, it excites even 
staid soil scientists like Johannes Lehman of Cornell University. His 
interest in dark-earth studies is not based on inferences from the 
archaeological record, but upon laboratory analysis and recreation of 
the mysterious terra preta itself. In it, he sees the potential for 
creating sustainable farming practices-and even combating global 
warming. 

Lehmann explains that nutrients from plant and animal remains-like 
nitrogen, phosphate, and potassium-bind to the charcoal or bio-char, 
preventing them from being washed away by the constant rains or 
evaporating into the air. As the charcoal ages, it breaks down in the 
soil. Micropores in the charcoal provide more surfaces for nutrients 
to adhere to, which in turn encourages microorganisms to colonize the 
soil. Somehow this process results in soil with up to 10 times as much 
carbon as unaltered soils nearby. Although the complete transformation 
of soil ingredients to true terra pretra may take more than four years, 
soil scientists believe that the mixture can have immediate effects 
when added to nutrient-poor soils. Experiments outside of Manaus have 
shown that plots treated with charcoal and fertilizer (which contains 
plant nutrients)-a mix akin to terra preta- yielded as much as 880 
percent more than plots with fertilizer alone.

In 2001 Petersen published a paper reporting one example of a farmer 
who had cultivated on terra preta soils near Autuba for 40 years 
without ever adding any fertilizer. "That's incredible," Woods says. 
"We don't get that in Iowa." A few years of Amazonian rains will 
wash away the nutrient-laden ash from slash-and-burn techniques, but 
the charcoal in the terra preta soils persists. The charcoal in 
terra preta soils at Central Amazon project goes back in some places 
as much as 2500 years. 

Cultivating terra preta today and increasing its distribution would 
have several advantages, Lehmann says. First, because the enriched 
soil encourages intensive growth in smaller, more permanent areas, 
it would discourage farmers from moving on and burning more Amazonian 
forest. Second, terra preta could reduce carbon emissions. The late 
Wim Sombroek-a legendary soil scientist whose interest in terra preta 
reached back to the 1960s, earning him the name "the Godfather of 
Dark Earth"- showed in 2002CK that 50 percent of the original carbon 
in plants and trees used to make bio-char remains in the terra preta 
soils after the conversion. Brazil is the world's eighth-largest 
emitter of greenhouse gases, and most emissions come not from industry 
and cars but from loggers, ranchers, and farmers burning the forest. 
By improving their soil with bio-char, Amazonian farmers could work 
in accord with the Kyoto treaty. Just substituting slash-and-char 
for slash-and-burn could reduce human-produced carbon emissions in 
the Amazon by 12 percent. 

Even better, burning agricultural wastes in a controlled process 
called pyrolization can convert wood and other organic waste into 
volatile gases and bio oil that can be used as an energy source. The 
process is win-win: burning the biomass not only produces substantial 
amounts of bio-char from material like peanut shells and rice husks, 
but mixing this bio-char into soil could also more than offset the 
carbon emitted not only during the burning process but also when the 
energy is used.

"You wouldn't just be carbon neutral, you would be carbon negative, 
drawing CO2 out of the atmosphere, producing energy, and actually 
improving the climate in the process," Lehmann saysCK. Through 
workshops with other scientists, he, like Neves, is trying to spread 
the word about terra preta worldwide, carrying on where Peterson 
left off.

****

On August 13, 2006, on the anniversary of his death, Neves and the 
archeologists at Central Amazon Project held a daylong commemoration 
traveling from site to site in a large caravan, describing each 
excavation, and explaining how Petersen had contributed. Although he 
helped revise the chronology of Northeast Native American and 
Caribbean Pre-Columbian archeology, Peterson will perhaps be 
remembered best for his work in the Amazon. He was not the first to 
become enthralled with the puzzle of Amazonian prehistory, but he was 
among the most passionate and effective in spreading his enthusiasm. 
He never wanted to be the "one," Heckenberger recalls, instead 
preferring to give credit to the "many." "He was a mentor to a lot 
of people, but he never thought of it that way. He wasn't teaching. 
He was sharing his experience. It wasn't a lecture, it was a 
dialogue. Jim was simply the best archeologist and the most infectious 
teacher I ever met."	

At the end of the day, the extended group gathers on the sandy beach 
at Autuba. Before us lies the breathtaking expanse of the Rio Negro. 
Autuba-the first and most extensive site excavated in the Central 
Amazon Project-is where this revolution in thinking about the Amazon 
began. Covering up to 30 hectares (75 ACRES CK)or more, it had a 
central plaza-like area surrounded by several mounds, established 
agricultural fields within a circumscribed radius, defensive 
earthworks and palisades near the river. 

From the beach you can look out at the broad Rio Negro and imagine 
what it must have been like for Spanish conquistadors exploring 
the river. Were these the spectacular settlements that Orellana 
described?	 

 "I think the best homage we can pay to Jim is to continue the work," 
Neves says, "to keep asking questions and to keep looking for answers." 



                --End--