The Ayamama (The Potoo Bird)

In the dark nights or under the moonlight, some little birds in the Amazon rainforest sing in a way more resembling a sad lament:

“Ayamaman Huishchurhuarca”

(“Dear mother dead, we have been abandoned”)

Legend tells of two children transformed into these birds – a boy and a girl.

Their mother’s death left them orphaned. Initially loved by their father, everything changed when a new woman entered their lives. This stepmother dominated their father, treating him like a slave. Neglected and despised, the children endured harsh labor. The situation worsened when the stepmother had a child of her own.

On one occasion, after a meal, she said to her husband, “Listen, we are very poor, we are going to have more children, and we won’t be able to live like this. We must get rid of these lazy children of yours. What are they good for? Only to eat.” The man, faced with such a proposition, protested, but then agreed, as he did with everything his treacherous wife asked.

She continued, “Early tomorrow, you will take them far into the jungle, and there you will leave them.” The boy, who at that moment was behind the kitchen, next to the wall, heard the whole conversation. However, he didn’t tell anything to his little sister. That night, he took two corn cobs from the barbecue, shelled them, and filled his pockets.

An unsolicited wish

At dawn the next day, a man led his children into the forest. He left them, promising to return after cutting a stick. Unbeknownst to the children, he never returned. The girl cried, but her brother found the scattered corn kernels, untouched by jungle animals, leading them back home.

At nightfall, they reached their home. Their stepmother became furious and blamed her husband, saying he hadn’t left them far enough and that he should take them even farther.

Abandoned, the children found tranquility among jungle creatures, turning the wild into an enchanted palace with a supernatural aura. Sleeping under a bombonaje plant, dreams revealed a comforting white-haired woman. Unafraid, they traversed the jungle for days until a dream beneath a renaco tree disclosed their metamorphosis into birds.

With a longing to return home, their fairy guardian had spared them suffering by turning them into winged beings. And at night, when the moon rose, they arrived there and, perching on the roof, sang in chorus, sadly:

Ayamaman Huishchurhuarca 

(“Dear mother dead, we have been abandoned”)

Their father, who was sitting on the doorstep of the house, already regretting what he had done, stood up and, like a madman, said to them, “Children of my soul, come…” But they flew into the jungle.