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I awoke at seven and was able to get back into my room. I was in such a good mood that I didn’t even complain about being locked out. I got myself organized to go paragliding and then sat down to breakfast with Kevin, Martina, Misha, and Leon–a South African who had just arrived. I had already reserved my at Casa de la Gringa for the night thinking that going to do another Ayahuasca ceremony might not end up being as interesting as staying. Over breakfast Martina encouraged me to skip the ceremony and spend he evening with the group–glancing at Misa as she said this.

As we were finishing eating, Simon arrived and asked me if I was, “Just about ready to go?”

“Yep.”

“There is more room in the van if anyone else wants to go.”

Both Kevin and Misa immediately jumped at this. They had both expressed interest in paragliding when I had spoke about going, but they were afraid that they would not be able to join last-minute. They quickly got their things together as I told Simon that I wanted to cancel my reservation with the curandero. I had been interested to experience Ayahuasca with a different shaman in a different setting as a point of reference, but the circumstances were less than ideal. I knew very little about this curandero and felt that I might be jumping into this a little too quickly. Since I had left the jungle I continued to feel better and better each day. I didn’t want to do anything to upset my new-found wholeness, better to allow this magic to play itself out. And of course there was the prospect of another night with Misa.

We walked down to San Bles where we caught our van and met Leo Infantas, the owner and operator of the paragliding company that would be taking us into and over the Sacred Valley.  He loaded us into the van and we were on our way.  Also in the van was another pilot and a couple from Souix Falls.  Annette was a down-to-earth attorney, and Shimi was a entrepreneur with a larger-than-life personality.  They were on a several month trip and had just come from Brazil.  I asked if they had been to any trance parties in Brazil.  They said, “No,” but Shimi recommended an outdoor trance party that went on every Sunday in Cusco called Chaos.

The drive took about 45 minutes.  It was stunning.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  The road wound through the mountainous landscape affording views of green fields, lakes, and jagged snow-capped mountains.   We pulled off to the side of the road where there was a small parking lot and a small shop selling trinkets.  Just below the parking lot was a small grassy field where another operator was already launching paragliders.  Up the slope from the parking lot were ruined Incan storehouses.

We stretched our legs and wandered a bit while Leo and his assistant offloaded the gear.  Then Leo explained the launching and landing procedures.  It seemed relatively simple.  There was a seat, not much more than a padded harness.  The pilot sat in the rear and the passenger sat in the front.  The parachute would catch the wind and we would run down the slope until we were lifted into the air.  Once we had gained enough altitude that we were sure not to come back down the pilot would signal that it was time to pull yourself back into the seat.  From there you would simply ride until it was time to land.  We would land seated with our feet up and our hands in.   The pad would absorb the impact.  Simple enough.

It was a beautiful spot.  Kevin, Misa, and I sat and chatted while we waited for the wind to cooperate.  When it did the Anette and Shimi went first.  Each under a separate parachute.  They took to the air almost instantly and soared gracefully away–climbing along the side of the mountain where they could ride the thermals.  The landing zone was actually uphill from where we were taking off.  Their flight lasted about 45 minutes, and when they came back they were both glowing.

Kevin was anxious to get suited up, but Leo insisted that Misa and I go next.  Misa took off only moments before I did, flying with the other pilot.  I put on my helmet and was strapped into the harness.  Leo attached my harness to the parachute.  He briefly went over the instructions again.

The chute inflated behind us and pulled us back a step.  An assistant pulled hard on the harness in front of me and the chute swung overhead.  I took three steps forward, and we were airborne.  In less than a second we were 50 feet off the ground.  Leo told me I could sit, and I pulled myself back into my seat and tucked in my arms.  We banked hard left and my stomach dropped.  I screamed from sheer exhilaration.  It felt amazing!

Paragliding was fantastic!  We hugged the contours of the mountain, looking for updrafts just over the treeline.  The chute was incredibly responsive and maneuverable.  The landscape was spectacular.  When I’ve dreamed of flying, this is how it felt.

An eagle flew over us and Leo tapped me on the shoulder excitedly.  He pointed to the bird, “My teacher.”

I couldn’t stop smiling.  We swooped and turned, climbing higher and higher.  We looped over the landing and back into the next valley.  We had been up for about half an hour and Leo checked in with me, “How are you doing?”

“Really good.”

“Good I want to go longer.  OK?”

“Yes,” I grinned. This was fantastic, and Leo seemed to be having as much fun as I was.  He explained to me that the two of us together were the perfect weight for the craft.  If we were any heavier we would sink too quickly.  If we were lighter we would go to slowly.  He was excited.  He encouraged me to lean into our turns as it helped us to climb.  When he was not speaking to me he would speak to the wind, coaxing and encouraging it.

We climbed and climbed.  The view was fantastic.  I could see down into the sacred valley and across a broad plain to the mountains on every horizon.

“We go to Cusco.”

I laughed, “Cool,” thinking he was joking, but we continued to climb.  He showed me the GPS. We were at 4500 meters altitude and traveling at 60km/hr!  I had no idea that these rigs could move that fast.

We continued to climb and I asked, “Are we really going to Cusco?”

“If we want to go to Cusco we have to touch that cloud.”  He pointed over my shoulder at a cloud far above and ahead of us.

Leo encouraged me to put on gloves he produced from a pocket in the harness and instructed me to take off my helmet and put up my hood.  It was getting colder.

We reached our maximum altitude at about 5500 meters.  I was cold and had to pee, but I was literally on top of the world!  I could see Cusco on the horizon and he told me we would be landing in Sacsayhuaman.  I could hardly believe it.  We were going to land in the Incan ruins atop of Cusco, the most important archeological site in all of Peru and the ancient capital of the Incan empire.   Totally amazing.

Leo pointed to the airport and told me we’d have to watch for planes.

We circled over Cusco and looked down at Plaza de Armas and Plaza San Blas.

We circled back over the Sacsayhuaman ruins and Leo got a big kick out of running our shadow over a group of tourists.  We came around and made our decent, landing softly between Incan stone walls.  Leo asked the surprised-looking site staff not to call the police.  They politely agreed.

I gave Leo a big hug and thanked him profusely. He told me that it was very unusual to be able to do this and wanted to know if I had gotten any good photos.  I showed him the videos of our takeoffs and landings and he made me promise to send him a copy.  We collected our gear (after I made a long-delayed trip to the bathroom) and sat warming in the sun while we waited for Leo’s crew to come pick us up.

They dropped me off off in San Blas with hugs and handshakes all around.  I stopped to pick up an Alpaca jacket for 110 sols before returning to the hostel to find the others.  They were all very excited to see me and to hear about my flight.  We walked down to a restaurant called Pacha Papa (Kevin’s recommendation) for lunch.  Martin and Leon joined us for lunch.  The food was fantastic, if not too cheap.  We sat and recounted our adventures.

The next day I woke up to the sun shining through my window. For breakfast the hostel served bread and jam with scrambled eggs and coca de mate. It was a fair breakfast. A young woman from Northern California joined me. Her name was Mimi and we spoke a bit about Peru and trekking into Machu Picchu.

After breakfast I went into the office to make some travel arrangements. A British ex-pat named Simon was at the desk. He helped me arrange a San Pedro healing for the following day. After that I would take a train to Agua Calientes and spend the night there. I would get up very early in the morning and hike into Machu Picchu where I would meet up with a guided tour. I would spend the morning exploring before catching a train at four which would bring me back to Cusco. I would spend my final night at Casa de la Gringa and then catch an afternoon flight back to Lima.

It was a little sad for me to have the rest of my trip planned out. I had done pretty well so far in avoiding planning too far in advance and allowing things to evolve spontaneously, and now I was back on a schedule. I had a week left in Peru, but suddenly I could feel the end of my trip approaching.

While I was sitting in the office, chatting with Simon a very pretty and disheveled looking young woman arrived at the door. She explained, in English with a Czech accent, that she was trying to find her friend Martina who she believed was staying at the hostel. Apparently, the two had meant to meet here, but as there were two Casa de la Gringas in Cusco and she had gone to the wrong one. Simon told her that her friend was here and that she could leave a note for her friend. This seemed to calm her a little. She left a note and went on her way. Simon and I exchanged a glance after she had left.

I then went to get cash to pay for my trip to Machu Picchu. It would cost me $250 US and included my transportation, a hotel, my ticket and guide to the site, and a couple meals. This was a very expensive price by Peruvian standards, but these were tourist prices.

After finding an ATM that would accept my card, I returned to the hostel and paid for my trip. I then sat down at the hostel’s computer and spent some time online. While I was blogging, the distraught young woman returned, looking for her friend who had not yet returned. She seemed to have a little better handle on things now, and she and I chatted for a bit. She then asked if I wanted to have lunch.

Her name was Misa, and as we walked over to the Plaza San Bles she told me a little bit about herself. She was a Czech living in London and working in commercial real estate appraisal. We stopped at Caverne del Orient–a vegetarian restaurant tucked into the corner of the plaza. They offered an excellent four-course menu for 10 sols. Conversation came easy as we sat outside in the sun enjoying our lunch.

After lunch we walked down to the market together, talking and site-seeing along the way. We spoke about our lives and our travels. She had a beautiful smile that came easily and twinkle in her eye. She was easy to be around in the ways that people who are very comfortable with who they are can be. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was a bit smitten.

When we returned to the hostel, Misa went to find Martina–whom she still had not connected with–while I struck up a conversation with a Californian named Kevin, who was on an extended trip though South America. Misa reported that she had found her friend and they were going out to dinner. I unabashedly invited myself along. Misa scurried off to get ready, and I spoke with Simon about my travel arrangements and booked a paragliding trip into the sacred valley. I had seen it advertised in some of the hostel’s literature and it sounded like an adventure. Then I went to meet Misa and Martina for dinner.

Misa and Martina shared a room across the street from where I was staying in Casa de la Gringa’s annex. Martina was a pretty young woman from Sweden who had actually only just met Misa the day before in Titicaca. Neither Martina or I had enough warm clothing. So we decided to go do some shopping. Fortunately for us, the region is known for its fine woven alpaca wool products. And it wasn’t long until both Martina and I had found nice warm sweaters in one of the nearby shops. The sweaters cost us 40 sols a piece.

Now that we were appropriately outfitted for the cool mountain twilight we returned to San Bles for dinner. A place called Km0 advertised Tai food and live music, both of which sounded good to the group, so we went in. As we were having dinner Kevin, the Californian from the hostel, came in joined us.

It was a lighthearted foursome. We shared stories and Martina told us about her experience earlier that day going to meet a little girl she had been sponsoring from home. It was a wonderful story. The whole village had welcomed her and the girl’s family had received her as an honored guest. I felt very lucky to be sitting there enjoying such a nice meal, in such a beautiful place, with such good company. A reggae band came on and played a great set of familiar music.

We returned to the hostel. Kevin went to bed and I sat up drinking tea with Misa and Martina. After talking for awhile Martina excused herself to go to bed. Misa and I sat talking for awhile. As it began to get late she rose to leave. I stood up as well, close to her and told her, “You don’t have to go,” and I kissed her. She was reluctant, but she kissed me back.

She looked me in the eye, “I have to go.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I’m not that kind of girl.” We kissed again, but she pulled back again, “I don’t have sex with someone I just met.”

I leaned in and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back, but I could feel the ambivalence in her. There was a push and pull that I could feel in her body. A desire and a reserve. I didn’t want to pressure her, but I didn’t want her to leave either. I felt no ambivalence.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked.

This broke the tension. It was a way that we could continue to spend time together without pressure. She immediately agreed. We walked out into the cool Cusco night.

Cusco is a beautiful and romantic city in the dark. The city lights climb up the surrounding mountains in tendrils that follow the valleys. The narrow streets are lit with a soft yellow light that brings out the shadows and textures of the Incan stonework. There is very little traffic so it is very quiet.

We huddled together against the chill of the night and walked uphill where we found a small park with a few thin Cedar trees and a fantastic view of the city. We stood there for a long time. Misa was warm and soft in my arms. Her reserve had dissolved into the thin mountain air. She ran her hands across my back and pulled me close, pressing her body against me. We kissed deeply and passionately, our bodies tuned and responsive to each other. We lost ourselves in the moment, in the beauty of the night, and in the passion and lust we felt for each other.

After a long kiss we started walking again. The path was narrow with high walls that occasionally opened to expansive views of the city. We stopped here and there kissing and talking in hushed tones. Eventually we made our way back to the hostel and said goodnight. She asked if she should wait till I got in. She had a key to the annex, but I had to knock and be let in by hostel staff. It was fortunate that she waited because despite my pounding at the door I could not manage to arouse anyone to open the door for me. It seemed that the night watch was asleep on the job.

She checked with Martina and invited me to spend the night with her. “But we have to be respectful,” she smiled.

That was fine with me. I was legitimately tired and wanting to sleep after a long day. we climbed into bed. I lay for a while thinking when suddenly Martina’s voice awoke me, “Eddy, stop snoring!”

I hadn’t even realized I was asleep. I apologized and rolled over, glad that she had awakened me rather than letting my snoring intrude on her rest.

I spent the next two nights in Iquitos shoring up my travel arrangements and taking it easy on myself. Wil and Grazyna introduced me to Mariella, a lovely young woman who was opening a new office as a travel agent. She arranged a flight and accomidation for me in Cusco. I did some shoping near the city center. My mood improved dramatically as I quickly adjusted back to the pace of urban life and after hearf-felt good-bys to my new friends I left Iquitos in seach of another adventure.

The airport in Iquitos was small, but modern and effecient. I was, however, annoyed to discover that Peru charges an airport tax, paid on-sight, before you are allowed to go through security. The price was less than $5 US, but it had to be paid in cash, and I had not expected it. The airport ATM wouldn’t take my card and I had just barely enough cash on me to scrape together the fee and catch my plane.

That’s not my plane.

This is my plane…

The flight was comfortable and uneventful. I had a layover in Lima and I intended to spend my time on the ground blogging and catching up on my email. After collecting my bags from one flight checking in for the second flight I had to go through security again, which meant paying another airport fee. If this wasn’t bad enough after I found my gate I asked about internet access and was told that it was available, but only on the other side of the security checkpoint. I would have to pay another fee to come back through security. I tried to negotiate, but in the end I sucked it up and paid my third airport fee of the day so I could get a little computer time while I waited. The internet cafe at the airport chared 7 sols/hour as opposed to the 1-2 sols/hour that I had been paying everywhere else.

The flight to Cusco was plesant and the mountain scenery was beautiful. As we landed I looked down on a mosaic of red-tile roofs. It was a bright, clear day and everything seemed to me to be shocklingly dissimilar from the jungle.

I managed to haggle 10 sols off of my cab fare and got a ride to Plaza San Blas for 15 sols. My cab driver gave me a little tour along the way. The thin mountain air was crisp and clear, sharpening edges and giving everything a sparkle. The mediteranian architechture and the mountains gave the place the feel of wine country. There were tourists everywhere. I was not longer off the beaten path.

My hostal was very nice, if a little on the new age/hippie side. The rooms surround a partially covered courtyard. There is a kitchen, a dinning room, a patio, a rec room, and communal baths. It is decorated with paintings of goddesses and hanging dreamcatchers, shards of broken pottery and cacti growing through cracks in the floor.

For 42 sols I rented a small two-level room with a small sitting area and ladder up to a loft with a single bed. It had a small window that looked past the angular rooftops to the mountains beyond. It was pretty and tranquil and just what I needed to rest and recouperate from my time in the jungle.

Casa de la Gringa was very keyed into plant teachers. They had postings for both Ayahuasca and San Pedro rituals. This peaked my interest. I was curious to try Ayahuasca again with another shaman in another setting and see what the differences were. I was also interested in a tune up. I could feel that I still had my soul, but my strength and vitality had not returned. However, my first priority was a shower and a shave.

After being cautioned by the hostal staff about the altitude, “plenty of water and lots of coca tea,” I followed their directions down to find a place where I could get a shave. I brought a water bottle filled with coca de matte along.

I found coca leaf tea mild, but pleasant. It’s effect is no stronger than regular tea, and it’s taste is vaguely similar to a green tea, but naturally sweeter. It seemed to help with the alititude as well. Cusco is high, the elevation is about 3300 meters or about 11,000 feet. At that altitude walking up a steep grade or a flight of stairs was enough to get me winded. Being that the entire city clings to mountainsides, just walking around town would have been difficult without time to adjust to the altitude.

I walked down through Plaza de Armas. There was some kind of protest going on in the square, but I was on a mission. On a street just downhill of the plaza I found my barbar. Her name was Vanessa, and it would be more accurate to say that she found me. As I walked by the shop she looked at my scraggly beard and asked, “Shave?”

She trimmed my hair, shaved me close with a straight razor, and gave me a deep conditioning and hot oil treatment, two shampoos, and a scalp massage. I reveled in the decadence of it all. It cost me 60 sols and was worth every penny. Now I really did feel like a whole new man.

After returning to the hostel I went out to dinner at a little place just around the corner called Inca Panaka. It was a cozy place with pleasant ambiance and amazing food. I had mashed yucca balls stuffed with olives and fruit for a started and alpaca steak for an entrée. I had never eaten alpaca before, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was similar to pork but very tender and moist.

After a phenomenal meal I walked a few steps back to my hostel and tucked myself into bed under a thick layer of sheets and blankets.

I got a private room at the Hobo Hideout for my first night back in Iquitos. The room itself was dull with no exterior windows, but it would be dark and quiet. I showered in the communal shower and got the first layer of dirt and mud off, but I desperately wanted to wash my clothing. Everything I had with me was dirty. I decided to buy a new outfit so I could wash all my dirty clothing at once.

It took me about twenty minutes to walk to the market. On the way I ran into Wil and Grazyna. We stopped to talk for a minute and made plans to rendezvous for dinner.

The market was large and busy. It smelled like a stockyard. Stalls selling raw fruits and vegetables as well as unrefrigerated animal parts were intermingled with cheap electronics and cleaning products. There was a stall with live animals for sale as well. Tiny baby monkeys were tied to a pole next to turtles, caymans, a toucan, and an anteater.

The Behlen Market has two parts. The upper part is a pretty standard Peruvian street market: covered street stalls crowd the pavement between the permanent buildings housing smalls shops. But the lower part of the market is a “floating market.”

Lower Behlen is the Amazon’s take on Venice. Built on the river, canoes traverse the waterways between buildings and crude plank scaffolding takes the place of sidewalk. These walkways are narrow, often a single plank wide, and without railings making it harrowing to pass a pedestrian coming in the opposite direction. There were shops and vendors here, but there was housing as well, and clothing hung from lines stretched across the canals. It was charming and bohemian.

I stopped at a “T” intersection in the middle of a canal to take a photo. As I snapped the picture a teenage boy who had been walking a short distance behind me lept from over my left shoulder and grabbed my camera. He wrenched it from my hands and started to run down the path to my right. I pulled back on the wrist-strap and yanked the camera back into my possession. He continued to run down the path which went under a nearby building. I had the camera, but my adrenaline was pumping and I gave chase.

My ill advised attempt to apprehend the thief ended quickly and violently. My Peruvian nemesis was a head shorter than I and where he cleared the building without ducking, I ran headfirst into the lower edge of the concrete structure. I heard a pop and saw stars. I struggled to keep my balance on the narrow plank as my head swam and warm blood trickled down my face.

Nearby a family was sitting out and cooking their lunch. Obviously distressed at what they had witnessed they sat me down spoke to me in rapid Spanish I could not understand. One of the men went into the house and came out with a clean new towel that he offered to me. My head was clearing and I refused. I had some tissue in my back pocket and I used that to staunch the bleeding, not wanting to soil their new towel.

I was a little embarrassed and I wanted to get back to my hostel to assess the damage. One of the women walked me back through the lower market and up to the street where she hailed me a motorkart. I was fully capable of finding my own way back, but I appreciated the kind gesture.

Back at the hotel I examined my forehead. I had a deep crescent shaped gash about an inch wide in my forehead. It was deep and looked like it could take at least a few stitches. I washed and disinfected it with hand-sanitizer. I looked at it again. I did not want to go to the hospital. I travel with superglue finding that it provides a better barrier against infection than band-aides. It has the added benefit of disinfecting as it seals a wound. I had never used it on anything this large, but I decided to give it a shot. I held the gash closed with one hand and applied the superglue. I had to continue to hold my forehead for several minutes while the glue set, but once it was finished the wound stayed closed. It seemed to have worked fairly well. Pleased with my field surgery, I laid down to rest.

I went into my final Ayahuasca ceremony feeling good and strong. I wanted to ask to have the toxins and sickness removed from me and to be filled with strength, love, power, and knowledge. I wanted to ask about my career path and how I should direct my life. Having had such a wonderful and epiphanal experience the previous night I was certain that I would now be able to peer deeper into the abyss and bring back even greater secrets. My final Ayahuasca ceremony was not what I expected.

After arising from my rest I took a flower bath and prepared myself for the ceremony. I entered the Malloca with the others and went to my place. Soon I was drinking a small dose of the mixture. I laid down on my mat feeling very at peace.

When the Aya began to take effect, I suddenly felt the same fear and nausea that I had experienced the previous evenings. It was not terrible or overwhelming, but it was uncomfortable. I tried to pray, but I could not muster the earnestness of the previous night. I felt very tired and a little defeated. I did not see spirits or have any revelations. I was disappointed and at the anticlimax and after laying uncomfortably for about two hours, I left the ceremony and returned to my hut. I vomited into my toilet before going to sleep.

Everyone was up early for breakfast. After eating we packed our things and took the long walk back down to the boat landing. It was hard to leave Kapitari. In the short time I had stayed there it had already begun to feel like home. With all I had experienced there it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since my arrival.

One meandering boat-ride and a couple of motokarts later I found myself alone in downtown Iquitos. I found a restaurant with a balcony that overlooked the river and had some lunch. I was very dirty and very tired. Being in the city was jarring. Panhandlers and pollution, engines and exhaust, everything demanding attention and nothing worthy of keeping it. The jagged edges of this new reality scraped at the new sensitivity of my raw and vulnerable soul. The spiritual equivalent of having your fingernails cut too short.

I lost some of the magic when I returned to the city, but I remained hopeful that some food, a hot shower, and a good night’s sleep would return me to my new-found glory.

I couldn’t sleep at all. I was too excited. I had too many thoughts running through my mind.

When it started to get light out I walked toward the center of camp to get some water. Don Luis was there with his wife. He told me something about going into town. I asked him if I would drink the tobacco again. He said, “Yes.”

He followed me back to my hut with a smaller glass of tobacco juice. It was about half as much as I had previously drank. I sat down on the floor and drained the cup. I then drank a full bottle of water and immediately vomited it back up into my bucket. now that I was purified, I could feel the remaining toxins in my body. It was a mild aching feeling that centered in my teeth. I was determined to get these toxins out.

Don Luis handed me another bottle of water and then went to fill the one I had already drained. I finished the second bottle and vomited it up before he returned.

Before I drank the third bottle of water, I paid Don Luis for that night’s ceremony and gave him a small gift of American Spirit Pow Wow Blend pipe tobacco. I explained in the best Spanish I could muster that it was a ceremonial tobacco of the Indians of North America and that it was all natural with medicinal herbs. He thanked me, and we embraced. He smiled and left my hut. I drank the water he had brought for me and vomited for a third time.

I felt good.

I walked back to the center of camp and asked for a little something to eat. I was starving. It had been almost two full days since I had digested solid food.

Don Luis’s wife made me a plate of cut fruit. Then Don Luis gave me a small plate of sliced raw onion, vinegar, and salt. After that came eggs and cooked vegetables. I struggled to fill my shrunken stomach. The food tasted good, and I could tell that my body needed nourishment, but after a only a few bites I began to fill full.

Don Luis’s wife asked me if I’d had a vision.

“Si.”

When I finished eating, I told Don Luis that I needed to sleep, but that after that I would want to talk to him with Jack’s help. He said, “Yes,” and told me to go sleep.

I went back to my hut and laid down, but even though I was very tired, I had a hard time going to sleep. Visions of impending war haunted me. I worried that soulless men would find out about this magic and twist it to their own selfish ends using chemicals and lies. There are those who would be threatened by it and out of fear they would do anything to stop it. I believe there are those who would burn the jungle to keep magic out of their world. I saw a coming war where those who would pervert and destroy this technology would persecute those who would preserve it. A war of machines against plants…

Finally I slept.

When I awoke Jack and Don Luis were standing at my door. I let them in, and the three of us sat down on the floor of my hut. “You have questions?” Jack asked.

I did. I told them about my experience with the spirit the night before. They listened carefully with Jack translating for Don Luis. When I had finished Don Luis said, “It is good. It is different for everyone.”

I asked how long he had been a curandero. He replied that it was something he was born with and that he had been instructed by his grandfather. He began to learn to cure when he was 18 and it took him 10 years to learn.

I asked him how often he performs the ceremony.

It depends. It can be a few times a week or every night.

Next I asked why a soul would leave the body. I didn’t fully understand his explanation here, but it had to do with how we live our lives. He told me that when the soul leaves the body it does not go far. It stays nearby, but outside the body.

Next I asked about the origins of Ayahuasca. How long have people been doing these rituals? He told me they had been doing this for over 500 years.

I asked him what he thought about western psychiatric drugs. He confirmed my suspicion that these drugs cannot help people because they are chemicals and have no soul.

Next I asked about the war. I told him that I was concerned that people in my culture would try to use this technology for their own ends.

“That is why you have to teach people. Tell them about your experiences here so they will respect nature.”

He did not seem overly concerned and this calmed me.

I asked what I should do after leaving Kapitari. He told me to follow my diet and live in a way that is careful.

I said that I thought that was all of the questions that I had for him. I thought they would leave, but Jack addressed me directly. His eyes were shining.

“I saw you change last night. You and Wil. I did not drink Ayahuasca, but I saw you change. I saw you become more healthy. Your skin went from red to white.”

He smiled at me. Then they both got up and walked out.

I laid back down to rest and reflect.

A short while later I was called to lunch. Grazyna was already eating. I sat next to her. She smiled at me. “You look better.”

“I feel better”

“It is working.”

“Yes.”

We spoke about our experiences from the previous night. Wil came and joined us. He Looked better too. I told him so.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “I don’t feel like throwing up.”

But I could see it was more than that. He had more color to his face. He carried himself with more confidence. He was smiling.

Grazyna encouraged me to make changes in my life. 

” I think I’m going to have to quit my job.  I don’t know if I can keep working somewhere that they are giving people chemicals.”

“Maybe you can go into holistic healing.”

She encouraged me to change my friends.  I explained that my friends were very supportive, but that some of them needed healing as well. 

She asked when I was leaving.  I said, “Tomorrow.  I want one more night to set it in.”

“George is leaving today.”

“Yes.  He’s going to tell other friends and then come back.”

George arrived for lunch a short while later with his backpack on.  He confirmed that he was planning to go.  We made plans to keep in touch and meet up again in Iquitos.

George, Don Luis and one of his sons, and I walked back don the muddy trail to the river.  My understanding was that Don Luis was taking me into town to get supplies, but at the boat he said goodbye to me and turned to go.  I had to have George help me explain that I planned to stay another night.  Don Luis looked surprised, but pleased with this.

After saying goodbye to George, three of us hiked back to camp.  I retired to my hut to read and rest for that night’s ceremony.

When I woke up I was instructed to take another “shower with plants.” I was given specific instructions to pray to the plants as I poured the water over myself. I crouched down behind the bamboo blind and lifted a small bowl of water out of the large bucket of soaking plants. I prayed that the plants purify me, that they give me strength and courage. I poured the water over my head. The plant mixture was different tonight. It smelled different. It was less floral and more wild. It smelled like the jungle.

Clean and refreshed, I sat down in the kitchen under a thatched roof with no walls. The other patients were there as well. Each took a turn showering as we spoke in muted tones about our experiences the previous evening.

George spoke about a profound emotional journey. Grazyna was in high spirits. Alexandra looked sad, and Wil looked about like I felt. He was pale and haggard. We had all drunk the tobacco juice, but Wil and I seemed to be the only two still effected by it.

I had come prepared to the ceremony tonight. I had a small headlamp so I would be able to find my way in the dark. I carried a walking stick. The ground was slick and I was weak from being ill and lack of food. I also brought a bottle of water. Don Luis’s wife gave us each a warm blanket as we entered the malloca.

I had had such an ordeal the previous night that I was a little traumatized. I’m not ashamed to admit that as I waited for the ceremony to begin I felt an anxiety rising in me that bordered on panic. George had suggested that it might be helpful to pray.

I prayed:

I prayed to the spirit of Ayahuasca and the god that is pure love.

I prayed to be made pure and whole. I prayed to be kept safe. I prayed to be allowed to actualize my potential. I prayed in a low whisper but out loud, “Take away my fear. Take away my depression.”

I can’t remember the last time I prayed. It’s been years.

When it came time for me to drink, I rose from my mat and sat in front of Don Luis. He blessed me and gave me the potion. I drank and returned to my mat.

I felt some nausea, but it was faint. I continued to pray. The body buzz was strong. It felt like an actual buzzing vibration in my flesh. Then the visions came. They were not as clear or tangible as they had been the previous night and they were less frightening. I prayed that my nausea be taken away, and it instantly vanished.

I saw the Ayahuasca spirit. She was made of energy and was shaped like some kind of cross between a flower and an insect. She had a long proboscis, and she hovered above me snaking it over my body, sucking out the filth and sickness. It felt incredible.

I could hear her thoughts in my mind. She told me that she lived in the consciousness of plants and drew her power from them. She said that she would now live in my consciousness as well. I thanked her. She finished removing the impurities and then disappeared.

I began to think about my family and friends, people who I care deeply for. I felt a great swell of love, and I realized that it had been a long time since I felt love. That it not to say that I had not experienced love in some way, but to intellectually know that you love someone is not the same as feeling that wonderful squeezing, swelling sensation that is love. It was this feeling that I had been missing.

Things began to fall into place in my mind.

I focused on the feeling of love. I squeezed it, and it grew. I thanked God and the spirit and I felt love for them.

“Give Love”

My feeling of love grew and grew until I was filled with love for everyone and everything. I looked around the malloca and felt love for the people there. I saw how we all suffered from a lack of love. Each of us had a hole inside us that we were trying to fill, but the hole could not be filled. However, when we felt love, when we gave love away freely the hole simply ceased to exist.

“Take Care”

I began to think about how I must live in order to cultivate this feeling. I must take great care. I must be conscious and aware of my actions. Taking care was something that could be done with each word or each footstep. I must strive to take care in everything I did, no matter how small or trivial.

“Be Silly”

Joy and laughter are incredibly strong magic. Joy cannot be felt without love, and it is from love that everything else flows. Taking oneself too seriously is a sure way to become miserable and unbearable.

“Don’t Think”

Be. Feel. Do. Don’t think. Thinking is at the root of every problem.

“Listen for Silence”

Listen for the silence between the sounds. Be aware of this space. It is in the silence that there is still room for magic and mystery.

Wagner beckoned me to him. I sat on the floor in front of him and he sang over me and blessed me with rattle and smoke. I returned to my mat.

We only drank Ayahuasca one time, but the ceremony lasted a long time. I spent most of the time lying on my back feeling pleased with myself. I had my soul back!

Without a soul you cannot feel love, and all things flow from love. Without feeling love your power dries up. you run out of luck.

But my soul was back, and I felt new and whole. It was wonderful. I didn’t even feel queasy. I vomited once during the ceremony, but unlike the previous nights, it hadn’t been a big deal. Just a quick purge not the cramping, heaving, and coughing I had become used to.

The ceremony ended and we slowly collected ourselves and exited the malloca. The moon was shining outside big and bright in the sky. The palms silhouetted by it’s blue light. I felt very lucky to be there. I stood looking up at the sky for a long time.

Then I walked over to the lake and walked out on the dock. The water was still and dark. I dipped a toe in. It felt good. Warm in comparison to the relative cool of the night. I stripped off my clothes and dove in. The water felt wonderful. I had discovered an Eden, and I was at peace.

I put my clothes on without drying off and walked back to my hut. I laid down, but I could not sleep. I realized I had not brushed my teeth and got up to do so.

When the light from my headlamp fell on the shelf that my toothbrush was on, a two inch cockroach scurried away. I looked at my toothbrush case. It was not closed tightly. I picked it up and hesitantly looked inside. There was roach shit inside my toothbrush case. Not only was this disgusting, but I really had no idea what to do to clean my toothbrush. I decided to temporarily abandon the project.

I walked into the bathroom in order to pee. As I stood there I let out a small fart, thinking nothing of it…until it rolled down my leg and onto the floor.

I wiped up as best I could and put on some shorts. I put the toothbrush in my pocket. I walked down to the bathing area and cleaned myself, my toothbrush, and my toothbrush case in the flowing water.

I thought about Ayahuasca and the ceremony. This was a technology that was older than my culture. Before Machu Picchu had been built, these guys had been out here doing these ceremonies. It blew my mind.

When I awoke everything had returned to normal. I felt good. My thinking had changed.

I now believed that my experience the previous evening had been a result of identifying with the spirit that tormented me. I could not let it go because I believed that releasing it would destroy me, and so I had failed to surrender to the power of the Ayahuasca.

I also believed that dehydration had played a major factor in my experience. Before I even was out of bed I had determined that I would drink Ayahuasca again. I had not come this far to only go half way, and I wanted to actualize the potential that I had experienced.

I got up and walked out to the lake to take a morning swim. I was met on the path by Don Luis. The three newcomers followed closely behind. Don Luis told me he had medicine for me and took me back to my hut.

In my hut he sat me on the floor and pulled the orange plastic bucket out of my bathroom and set it next to me. Then he handed me a a pitcher of water and a large coffee cup full of a thick brown liquid. He explained to me that the cup contained tobacco juice and that I was to drink it all and then vomit in the bucket.

The tobacco was difficult to get down. It had an acidic taste and made me feel unpleasantly light-headed. I managed to drink the entire cup. Jack told me that once I finished the juice I should drink as much water as possible. Then they left.

I drank about half of the pitcher of water and immediately vomited in the bucket.

I rose and cleaned myself up before going back to the lake to swim. After my swim I did Tai Chi. I was shaky and my meditation was difficult and dissonant. Don Luis told me to rest and that he would come get me for breakfast at ten.

I returned to my cabin weak and queazy, but otherwise OK. I believed that Don Luis was trying to help me, but I remained unconvinced that he had the power to do so. The previous night before the ceremony when I had told Don Luis about my symptoms he had told me that it would take two weeks to heal me. He went on to tell me that he understood that it was expensive and that I must only pay what I could afford. I had told him that time was as much a factor as money and that I could only stay for a few more days. He replied that he would work very thoroughly with me over the next few days and give me additional herbs and treatments. The tobacco juice was the result of this conversation.

The tobacco made me sick. I couldn’t sleep or rest. Instead I tossed in my bed sweating and vomiting. I felt as though I had a fever. I was brought some fruit for breakfast, and I ate a little of it, but I could not hold it down.

I got up at lunch time and ate with the group I had little appetite and was only able to pick at the rice and fish that was placed in front of me. Don Luis encouraged me. He seemed pleased with my response to the tobacco juice.

I wasn’t as pleased.

Grazyna told me that the tobacco is used for a rapid detoxification. She said that in her holistic healing practice at home it would take two months to produce the same result. She went on to tell me that I was feverish because all of the toxins in my body had been released into my blood and that I would be feverish until my body processed them through.

That sounded good in theory, but in practice, I felt like shit. I went back to my hut and threw up my lunch. Then I slept.

I woke up to a beautiful sunny day. George was standing outside my hut, and he told me breakfast was ready.

Breakfast consisted of fresh fruit and scrambled eggs mixed with a fibrous spinach-like vegetable. I played chess with George and fed scraps to the cats.

After breakfast Don Luis showed us where he was brewing the Ayahuasca. He then took us around the property and showed us the various plants he had collected for the brew. He told us that there were five different plants in his Ayahuasca, but with my limited Spanish I didn’t catch what they all were.

After our lesson we were instructed to swim and clean up and then go rest.  Our lives in Kapitari are gently dictated, but rather than feeling controlling it comes across as instructing.  Since the time I arrived in Kapitari I felt looked after.  Don Luis and his family quietly watch us and anticipate our needs.  Being cared for by people who were total strangers a day before was really beautiful.

I swam and napped.  One of Don Luis’s young sons woke me for lunch which consisted of more fruit and eggs as well as some rice and roasted nuts that were similar to chestnuts. 

While we were eating three more people arrived.  A woman and two men.  Grazyna was a Polish ex-pat now living in Canada.  Wil was a Canadian who had come to try Ayahuasca again after a bad experience with it with another shaman.  And Jack, who had come to act as interpreter.  He had been healed by Don Luis ten years prior and was very knowledgeable about Ayahuasca and the ceremony.  George and I briefly introduced ourselves, and then shuffled back to our huts.  There would be more time to talk later.

After resting and meditating, I took another swim.  Then the women encouraged me to “Shower with plants.”  By the stream there is a bamboo blind set up.  Behind it a few planks bridged the stream and on them was a large bucket of water filled with flowers and fragrant herbs.  I used the water to wash myself.  It was refreshing and left me with a pleasant floral scent. 

Before the ceremony began,  George and I sat in the malloca with the newcomers.  Grazyna drilled us about the reasons we had come here.  George spoke about his history of drug addiction and the hedonistic and self-centered life-style he was trying to get away from as well as the depression that he struggled with.  I spoke about my own ongoing struggle with mental illness and how I felt a loss of passion and direction.  She encouraged us to have Jack help us tell these things to Don Luis.

Don Luis came in with several family members and a young woman who is apparently Wagner’s French girlfriend, but who I had not met yet.  All together there were about a dozen people in the ceremony that night.

The Ayahuasca was stronger the second night and came on more quickly.  Wild fractal patterns appeared along with distortions in my mood and thinking.  I felt terrible.  There was nausea but also  a terrible fear and depression.  It came out of nowhere.

Suddenly, another world opened up in front of me.  I could feel a noxious buzzing in my body and hear it in my head, in my mind.  Two large mosquito-like creatures were buzzing around my head, invading my mind and trying to take over my thoughts.  They glowed with a bright yellow light.  I fought them, refusing to surrender my will as they probed at my mind. 

I felt a depression deeper than any I have ever experienced.  I was afraid for my life.  What I was experiencing was totally beyond my comprehension.  There was a world of overwhelming complexity unfolding in front of me.  It was more than I was able to take in.  I could not integrate what I was experiencing.  I wanted it to stop, and I continued to feel the presence of the insects trying to invade my mind. 

I began to take inventory.  I was lying on a mat in a lodge.  I was just lying there.  I had drunk a hallucinogenic potion that was causing this, but it would only last for a couple hours and then I would return to reality.  I would be OK.  I hoped I would be OK.

I tried to focus and feel my body.  Beyond the hallucinations I could find myself if I concentrated.  I was not in pain.  I was breathing alright.  My heart was beating at a relatively normal speed.  But I was…thirsty.  I suddenly realized that my mouth was bone dry, and I was incredibly thirsty.

I tried to think of what I had had to drink that day.  A cup of tea with breakfast and another with lunch.  That was it.  I had been out in the sweltering jungle after being ill the previous night and I had only had two cups of water all day.  I got up and walked out of the ceremony.

I made my way back to my hut fighting off unconsciousness as I went.  Suddenly the experience was incredibly real.  Out here in the jungle two hours from any civilization there would be no one to put in an IV if I passed out.  Things could get serious really quickly.

I made it back to my hut despite the difficulty walking and navigating brought on by the Ayahuasca and dehydration.  I immediately began to drink water.  Then I vomited.  I had some more water and laid down. 

Slowly, I began to feel better.  The nausea subsided to be replaced by euphoria.  Laying there in my small bed under the white mosquito netting I experienced my true self.  I felt what it felt like to be me.  For the first time I knew who I was.  It was a beautiful feeling. 

I rose from my bed and did Tai Chi.  As my hands moved in front of my face they left beautiful trails of white light behind them.  It was wonderful.  I laid down to go to sleep, determined not to drink Ayahuasca again.

 

While I waited for the ceremony I meditated and listened to the jungle. As the night grew darker the jungle grew louder. Glowing things, fireflies or glowworms flickered in the darkness. One of Don Luis´s cats came and sat on the steps of my cabin–its back to the door.  Looking out.  Standing guard. I took it as a good sign and laid down to rest. I felt strong.

Don Luis came with a flashlight to get me for the ceremony. George was with him. We spoke very little as we walked to the malloca, the lodge where the ceremony would take place.

The malloca is a large circular wooden building in the center of the camp. It is elevated about four feet off the ground and the walls are screen. The building is about forty feet in diameter and has a large conical palm-thatched roof.

We walked up the steps and went inside. The lodge was lit by a single oil lamp. Don Luis´s wife and son Wagner were waiting for us along with the arcana to be used in the ritual.

The lodge was sparsely decorated with four large, colorful oil paintings and a bookshelf. Along the wall opposite the door were five thin mattresses.  I was directed to the mattress furthest to my left, next was Don Luis´s wife, then Don Luis, then Wagner, then George.

Near my mattress was a large square pale and Don Luis’s wife came over and handed me a few squares of toilet tissue.  Don Luis lit a hand-rolled cigarette and used the smoke to bless the space and his tools.  He blew smoke into the plastic bottle containing the Ayahuasca, and then he blessed each of us individually by blowing smoke into the crown of our heads and into our hands.

From my place on the mat, the room looked dark and empty.  The light played on the rough grain of the hardwood floor.  The roof above us was a dark tunnel, except for a few small spots where the night sky poked through.  I could see the full moon rising through the screen behind me.

Wagner rose and blew out the light.  Then Don Luis and his assistants drank the Ayahuasca.  George was offered Ayahuasca next.  He rose from his mat and went over to Don Luis and sat on the floor before him.  Don Luis handed him a flashlight and then poured the Ayahuasca into a piece of coconut shell for him.  He took back the light and handed George the shell.  George drank and then returned to his mat.

I was invited to drink Ayahuasca.  I was nervous as I sat in front of Don Luis, and when he handed me the brew my hand was shaking.  Somehow, I managed to keep from spilling it.  It was the same mocha color as the Amazon river.  I drained the shell.  There were maybe two or three ounces of liquid in it.  It tasted bitter but not terrible.  Along with the bitterness there was an earthy coffee/coconut taste that was actually pleasant and reminded me a little of ginger snap cookies.

I rose and returned to my mat.  Don Luis began to sing a slow chanting song and shake a rattle made of dried leaves.  The melody seemed strangely familiar.  I leaned back on the screen and listened.  It didn’t take very long before I began to notice the effects of the brew.  At first I felt a numbness in my toes and fingers and then a tingling as the power began to rise.  There was a wave of nausea, but it passed.  In the darkness and on the backs of my eyelids feint patterns appeared.  My vision distorted.  Distance and detail would increase and decrease and then back again.  My thinking became disorganized.  The effect was similar to the start of a mushroom trip.

Don Luis finished his song and Wagner began to sing.  Wagner’s song was about Ayahuasca medicine and as he sang it invoked something in me.  I could feel my sickness made manifest.  My physical ailments as well as my mental and emotional ones began churning inside me.  Pain, fear, anxiety, nausea, and depression rolled themselves into a serpent shape inside my abdomen.  I could physically feel it slithering around inside my body and mentally feel it pulling on my consciousness, coloring my experience.

It was unpleasant and I wanted to vomit it up, but I could not.  At times Wagner’s song seemed to pull at the spirit, but it would not leave me.  I felt despair.

There was another song and some praying.  Don Luis played the flute.  My thoughts were very disorganized and unfocused.  I found it difficult to hold a train of thought for more than a few seconds.  The nausea came and went, but the bad spirit remained.  I could feel it crawling into my stomach, into my intestines.

The effects of the Ayahuasca had already passed there peak.  I had no good way to judge the amount of time that had passed, but I would have guessed it had been about two hours.  Wagner came over to where I was sitting and asked me, “Do you want to drink Ayahuasca?” 

“Yes…please,” I stuttered.

I rose and sat in front of Don Luis. He poured me another shell full of the potion.  I drank it and returned to my seat.  Then George drank.  The taste seemed more bitter this time, and the after-taste lasted longer. 

The songs commenced again, but the evil spirit remained in me.  I had lost hope that it could be removed. 

Don Luis invited me to come and sit in front of him.  He lit tobacco and blew it into the crown of my head.  He blew smoke around me and then took my hands in his, cupping them.  He blew smoke into my cupped hands.  He pressed my hands together into a prayer position, and he blew smoke between my fingers.  He then began to sing over me while shaking his rattle over my head.  I could feel the rattle resonating in my torso and down my spine.  It felt good and healing.

When Don Luis finished his song he stood over me and made a series of loud sucking noises over the crown of my head, spitting in a bucket between each inhale.  The sound of each breath drew something up my spine and out the top of my head. 

When he was finished I stood to return to my mat.  I was very unsteady on my feet, but I felt better.  The despair and anxiety were gone. 

We drank Ayahuasca for a third time, and then Don Luis and his wife rose and left the malloca.  Wagner remained singing softly.

I spit up a little, but the nausea did not come with bad feelings.  My intestines churned.  “Wagner, Donde esta el baño?”

He pointed.  I rose and left the malloca.  Walking was incredibly difficult.  I had an intense vertigo, and I walked as if I was very drunk though I felt clear and alert.

Unable to find the bathroom Wagner had directed me to, I  returned to my own hut.  The evil was already starting to seep out of my anus.  When I sat down on my toilet it was like turning on a faucet.  I had terrible diarrhea, and as I sat there shitting I also began to vomit violently.  Someone had wisely placed a bucket within reach of the toilet and I put it between my legs.  My eyes watered.  My nose ran.  And I shat and vomited until I was dry-heaving. 

Then it was over.

I took my underwear and washed them in the lake before returning to the lodge.  George and Wagner were chatting, and I sat down and allowed the effects of the brew to wear off. 

By the time my mind had quieted, Wagner and George were both asleep.  I stumbled back to my cabin and went to bed.