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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.

I woke up in the tree house at about seven. I could tell what time it was by counting the chimes of church bells.  I felt well rested.

George was still asleep, so I quietly got myself organized and went downstairs (or more accurately downladder). Patricia was already up and packed.  She was leaving for a posh jungle lodge in a couple hours.  We went out to the Yellow Rose for breakfast where our waitress told us that Kenny and Mitchel had come and eaten and left for the jungle already.  I didn’t manage to get contact information from either of them, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see or hear from them again, but I wish them well. They were good guys, taking on a big adventure.  If they make it back to the States in one piece I’m sure it will change them forever.

George joined us and we chatted about finding a curandero. I walked Patricia back to the hostel and said goodbye.

After Patricia left I found a hustler with enough English to help me get directions to Kapitari. I offered to pay him a couple sols to make a phone call for me. We managed to get through, but they told us that they were busy with chores and to call back after noon.

Back at the Yellow Rose George had struck up a conversation with a brash American from Chicago with a shaved head and a shirtsleeve tattoo. Paul sipped coffee and chain-smoked while he spoke passionately about Ayahuasca and curanderos.  He strongly cautioned us to be careful about which curandero we employed, hinting that bad curanderos could steal your power or worse allow you to slip into madness.  He had heard about both Percy and Don Luis, the two shaman that I had been recommended.  He was only lukewarm on Percy, but endorsed Don Luis.

He said he knew a shaman in town called José Marin.  He swore by this man and gave us directions to his home.  It was within walking distance of Plaza de Armas.

After picking up George’s laundry we walked over to visit José.  On the way we spoke about Ayahuasca, hallucinations, psychiatric medications, and mental illness.

José was shirtless, with long hair and tattoos and wore metal medallions around his neck.  He had the look of  a curandero, and we knew who he was before he introduced himself.  He showed us back to his place, down a narrow gap between buildings to a door with a simple wooden sign over it which advertised his services as a curandero.  His place consisted of a large, mostly empty room.  It had a dirt floor with a few chairs and two single beds pushed against the walls.  There were photos taped up on the walls along with a pornographic calender.  It was dark.

José was jovial and smiled broadly and easily.  He told us about Ayahuasca in great detail and patiently replied to our questions when we didn´t understand his Spanish.  The ritual would cost 120 sols.  It would last two hours.  We would drink Ayahuasca and vomit.  Then he would shake a rattle of dried leaves over us and sing.  the bad spirits would leave us.  We would return to our hotel that night.  We told him we were interested, but would get back to him in a few days.

I had no interest in doing Ayahuasca in a dark room in the city, and I could tell that George was disappointed.  I had previously told him that I was interested in having a solo experience, but now that his lead hadn’t worked out as he had hoped I could tell he was interested in coming with me again.

“Are you thinking of about coming with me to drink Ayahuasca?”

“Well yeah.  If you’re cool with that.”

“Maybe.”

I explained to him that I was concerned that I would use his presence as a crutch.  That it would be an excuse for me to not change in the ways I wanted to change.  “I want to do this the right way and not the easy way.”

He graciously accepted this and offered that it would be better for me to do it alone, but I could tell he was disappointed.

When we returned to the hostel George said he was going for a walk and would catch up with me in an hour.  I went in and spoke to the woman at the front desk.  She was very helpful and her English was good so I asked her to call Kapitari for me.  She got on the phone.

“Do you want to go tonight?”

“Yes”

She hung up.  “They will be here to pick you up in 50 minutes.”

After months of preparation I was almost at my destination!

I went to the nearest internet café and emailed George, inviting him to join me.  I felt selfish for excluding him, and that was not the way I wanted to kick off my experience.  George was a good guy and he had been nothing but generous with me.

By the time I returned to the hostel Don Luis was there waiting for me.  I recognized him immediately.  He told me that George was there as well and was getting his things together and then we’d be off.  Don Luis asked to be paid up front and I gave him $150 US for three nights at Kapitari.

George checked out and Don Luis loaded us into a motorkart and we were off.

We made a couple of stops before arriving at a long narrow boat with a thatched roof about an hour later.  The boat took us through narrow waterways into the Amazon jungle.  After another half-hour the boat deposited us at the end of a mud track that was wide enough to drive a car on, but in no condition to do so.  Don Luis grabbed a pack and hiked into the forest.  We followed.


At 69 Don Luis is spry and surefooted.  It was difficult for George and I to keep up and keep our footing as we clamored behind him.  At times the mud was knee deep and thick as pumpkin pie.  At other places it was slick and slippery.  It took us the better part of an hour to hike in.


We arrived at Kapitari.  It was beautiful.  Small trees with purple flowers lined the way in.  There was a small lake and half a dozen wooden buildings with palm-thatched roofs.  Don Luis introduced us to his family and offered us lemonade as we washed the mud off our shoes and legs in the lake.  He then showed us to our cabins.  We each had our own private hut nestled in the trees.  They were small but nice with a bathroom a table and a bed covered in mosquito netting.  The cabins themselves were walled with screen.

We got settled in and went for a swim in the lake to clean off.  Then we were instructed to return to our cabins and rest until Don Luis came to get us for the ceremony.  As it grew dark I sat in my cabin listening to the jungle and the sound of a flute playing in the distance.

We arrived in Iquitos about an hour after dawn.  Our ferry pushed, shimmied, and wedged its way between the tangle of other ships already docked at the harbor.  I was truly amazed that we were able to get all the way up to shore and disembark onto dry land.  When we first pulled in I assumed that we would be climbing over other ships to get to land.  It didn´t look like there was space for the skiff to get to shore, much less the large boat.  But we made it.

Before we even had set foot to earth we were swarmed by a crowd of pushy salesmen.  Taxi driver, tour operators, hotel promoters, and of course thieves and pickpockets.  Patricia, George, Kenny, Mitchel, and I stuck close together and pushed through the crowd.  If we could get a few blocks away from the landing the crowd would thin out and we would stand a better chance to fend for ourselves.  Still, on the way out of the harbor a high school age kid came up next to me an slyly patted my pocket.  There was nothing in it, and he gave up in search of other prey.  But even if I hadn´t been on to him it would have been unlikely that he would have been able to get his hands on anything of value.

I travel with all the zippers on my backpack fastened with split rings to prevent someone from getting a hand in my bag too easily.  I keep a little money and a few expired credit cards in a wallet that I keep in a zippered pants pocket with the rest of my money and my legitimate cards and documents in a money belt tucked into my pants.  That way even if I`m robbed I just give up the small wallet, and I’m only out a little money.

Once away from the harbor George, Patricia, and I hailed a motorkart to  the center of town where we checked in at the Hobo Hideout.  It was a tacky but fun jungle lodge themed hostal with dorms and private rooms.  Patricia got a private and George and I opted for a dorm.  Our room was on the second level of a treehouse-like hut.  To access it we had to go to the second floor and go outside.  Then up a spiral staircase and into the palm-thatch hut.  Then we had to climb a ladder to the second level of the hut to get to our beds.  There was a great view, but no window or screens.

The three of us then went to breakfast at The Yellow Rose of Texas.  We met Gerald, the proprietor, with a booming voice and a personality to match.  Gerald is originally from Huston and subtly hinted at having Regan era CIA connections in Central America before retiring in Iquitos with a pretty Peruvian woman and opening this restaurant.  He said, “There’s three ways to get things done around here.  You either gotta give into their bullshit, pay em off, or you gotta be meaner than a junkyard dog.”   You can guess which way Gerald gets things done.  The food at the Yellow Rose is good and they offer Peruvian dishes as well as traditional Texas fair.  They also have real coffee which was a hit with George and Patricia.

Kenny and Mitchel caught up with us at Yellow Rose and we all had breakfast together.

Iquitos is the largest city in the world that is not accessible by road. 500,000 people call this jungle outpost their home.  It bustles.  The hard sell is in full effect here and visitors can expect to be routinely hassled to buy things from local street vendors.  Drug pedaling, petty theft, and prostitution are rife.  The city feels a little shady and a little loose and easy, but not scary or dangerous.  It’s not too different from any other tourist town, except that it’s buried in the middle of the Amazon jungle.  And that’s pretty cool.

I tried unsuccessfully to get directions to Kapitari.  I managed to get ahold of Wagner (my contact at Kapitari) over the phone, but trying to get directions in Spanish with a bad connection was more than either will or I could pull together.

That night it poured rain.

I´ve had a long time to set my intentions for the ceremony. But even as it approaches in time and space, what I´m looking for is hard to put into words. I´m tempted to say,”I´ll know it when I find it.” But that implies an ambiguity that I do not feel. It is not my will, but my goal that is ephemeral.

What I am looking for is a feeling. It is a feeling of wholeness and internal peace. It is my sense of wonder and gratitude. It is my lust for life.

There are demons I have been battling for years that I would put to rest. Anxiety, fear, depression, and self-doubt have plagued me at times, and I would have relief from their nagging demands on my will and my growth.

It is not through the ceremony alone that I hope to bring about these changes. I have been making great strides against these demons on my own. The ritual represents a manifestation of these efforts to change, a time to lay these demons to rest and look to new battles.

I also hope for self-knowledge, for purpose and direction.

Is it too much to ask? I don´t know. But I will find out.