Among the Cannibals: Adventures on the Trail of Man’s Darkest Ritual
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It's the stuff of nightmares, the dark inspiration for literature and film. But astonishingly, cannibalism does exist, and in Among the Cannibals travel writer Paul Raffaele journeys to the far corners of the globe to discover participants in this mysterious and disturbing practice. From an obscure New Guinea river village, where Raffaele went in search of one of the last practicing cannibal cultures on Earth; to India, where the Aghori sect still ritualistically eat their dead; to North America, where evidence exists that the Aztecs ate sacrificed victims; to Tonga, where the descendants of fierce warriors still remember how their predecessors preyed upon their foes; and to Uganda, where the unfortunate victims of the Lord's Resistance Army struggle to reenter a society from which they have been violently torn, Raffaele brings this baffling cultural ritual to light in a combination of Indiana Jones-type adventure and gonzo journalism.
Illustrated with photographs Raffaele took during his travels, Among the Cannibals is a gripping look at some of the more unsavory aspects of human civilization, guaranteed to satisfy every reader's morbid curiosity.
the city like patchwork blotches. In the same city Mukesh Ambani, a petrochemical multi-billionaire, is building the world’s most opulent home, a billion-dollar two-hundred-yard-high twenty-seven-floor skyscraper. The towering glass palace will have several floors of open hanging gardens and enough room to house the family’s six hundred servants. On the way from the airport, each time the taxi stops at a red light, lame, blind and crippled beggars, both children and adults, scurry from the
Ganges while a water buffalo looks on with bovine indifference as two boys stride into the shallows and begin sloshing the murky water in wickerwork baskets, as if panning for gold. “They’re Doms, untouchables,” Tiwari says. “They’re going through the ashes seeking any jewelry or coins left on the body.” A pair of dogs spy something in the leftovers and race down the steps to the water’s edge. One snaps up a tidbit about the size of a melon, and the other grabs the other end. Snarling and
crafted toy soldiers to re-enact that conflict, and it must be sad to watch him as he maneuvers hundreds of them around his cavernous living room, deprived of real soldiers to display his strategic skill. He attends parades in Tonga clad in army and navy uniforms so flamboyant that military attachés from friendly countries can barely conceal their smiles. Although the Tongan navy consists of a handful of patrol boats, Tupouto’a flaunts a full-dress naval commander’s uniform awash with gold
Arens, stirred the pot in 1979 with his book The Man-eating Myth: Anthropology and Anthropophagy. He challenged, “I am dubious about the actual existence of this act as an accepted practice for any time or place.” He contended that such cannibalism was “unobserved and undocumented.” At about the same time that Arens was casting doubt on the existence of tribal cannibals, Dutch pastors from the Mission of the Reformed Churches in the Netherlands were risking their lives by journeying to the
perimeter, and their task is to protect the leader. Then, other bodyguards are posted a few miles from the camp, ready to give warning and do battle with any army troops that attack.” “What was it like to be with Kony?” “He was kind to me, promised me a pretty young wife when I was a year or two older. I looked forward to that because you can’t talk to the girls in the camp, and if you do get into a relationship with a girl and it’s discovered then you’re both killed the same day by firing