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Published: September 18th 2005
Warning: although I have tempered the language as much as possible, some may consider the subject matter of this blog not to be suitable for tender young minds…
I have a hangover. It was my 40th birthday yesterday, and Claire and I partied until far beyond our normal bedtime and are suffering as a result. Luckily this trip doesn’t have an early start and we have time to collect ourselves and find something to eat before meeting the rest of our would-be shamanic healers and head into the jungle. The restaurants in Iquitos are pretty good by most Peruvian standards, and despite the fact that we are in the middle of nowhere before we even start, we find an Italian place which apparently flies all its ingredients in from Lima. Trouble is, Lima wouldn’t know genuine Italian ingredients if they arrived in a Fiat wearing Dulce and Gabbana sunglasses and waving a Lazio flag. Still, wasn’t too bad.
Next to meet the team. We all stand in the tour company’s office to pay our fees, eyeing each other up and making polite noises about where we´ve all come from and going etc. What a collection: a couple from the
UK West country who live the alternative lifestyle and have been involved with all sorts of shamanic stuff for donkey’s years, and who have brought their 14, yes 14, year old son ‘for the experience’; a nice British couple who are their friends; a Puerto Rican couple who live in New York and are great fun cos you can get them to they say things like ‘cwaffee’ all the time; a yoga instructor who was born in the UK but lived a long time in the US; and our friend Karen (we met in Baños) who was born in the UK but lived a long time in the US. And two, rational, sceptical, non-alternative city folk who haven’t got a clue about shamanism, but either just want to try Amazonian drugs, or don’t want to be there at all - I´ll leave you to guess which is which.
And of course our Shaman and his team. Had we not been warned by Karen about the Shaman beforehand I would probably have laughed out loud. Hamilton is about as preppie American as you can get. A well-to-do family and advantaged Californian upbringing have not prevented him from needing to disappear
in to the Amazonian jungle for several years to train and become the ‘white-shaman’ as he is known, and still only in his mid twenties. Not exactly the grizzled jungle raised tribesman we would have expected. Hamilton is however a really nice bloke with real charisma and is obviously both well trained by real tribal types, and genuine about being there and doing it.
All assembled then, we head off to the camp for the next 10 days. If Iquitos is in the middle of nowhere in the Peruvian jungle, then the camp at about 200km further out from Iquitos isn’t quite at the end of the earth but you can see it from there. To reach it, we have to get on an overnight ferryboat up the Amazon and into its tributaries, then spend the day going further up in a small canoe. I'm not sure if this is to get the genuine jungle experience or to stop people from escaping to civilization halfway through.
The ferryboat is an experience by itself, like ‘The African Queen'. It is the only means of mass transportation in the region, and is used for getting anything and everything from A
...so we have to get out and push
through Boa and Piranha invested water, thigh deep in mud!to B as long as A and B is beside the river.
Surprisingly we slept well enough, tired after spending the evening watching sunset over the Amazon and getting to know our comrades better and listening to Hamilton talk about Shamanism in general, his own history, and what we are in for over the next week and a bit. So full of enthusiasm at dawn the next morning we get out at a small settlement beside the river called Jenaro Herrara (actually quite a major place as far as this region is concerned) and transfer to a couple of canoe-like boats with our luggage, 11 days water supply in demi-john’s, our dinner (chickens) and nothing but parasols for shade to continue under equatorial sun to the camp.
About a hour later we turn into the tributary called the Supay River where we leave the Amazon river to get up to the camp, but the river is so low (lowest for thirty years apparently, its at the end of the dry season), we have to get out and walk for a hundred yards or so. Ok no problem we think…
(Claire says: “walk for a hundred yards or
so” he says glibly. This is the Amazon, everyone knows that the thick mud harbours little parasites that walk up your legs penetrate your uretha and live in your eyeballs until they burst out. So when Hamilton said we had to walk along the river bed there were a few of us ladies who really thought he was joking. Sadly not. The mud was warm and thick and really deep if you were unlucky - Karen and I got into trouble at one point and we had to haul each other out, laughing (hysterically in my case) of course…. Bizarrely I had paid US$20 for a mud bath in a thermal springs in Ecuador a week or so before which I considered a luxury, and here it was, acres of warm mud and all free, but as they say Location, Location, Location…)
Two hours in the canoe later and now onto the Ayucayacu River and an area that is usually a lagoon and we have all been turfed out of the boats once again to help push them, still full of all the provisions 15 people need for 10 days and all our luggage but with only just over
6 inches of water.
Now when I signed up for this, and cajoled Claire, we didn’t expect to do much, no, make that we didn’t expect to have to DO anything. Now we find ourselves up to our thighs in river mud - the water may only be 6 inches deep but the bottom is mud and old twigs and you sink in deep. Like crawling through treacle we try to push pull or whatever the boats along, trying not to think about the piranhas, leaches, and anaconda snakes which infest these waters. Voicing our concerns, we are told the piranha only bit if there is blood in the water. This goes on for half an hour by which time we are all soaking wet, covered in scratches and oozing blood all down our legs caused by accumulated underwater vegetation, and absolutely knackered. Our boat with the water is the heaviest and despite nine of us pushing it moves at a snails pace and threatens to give us heart attacks with the exertion. Claire gives me dark looks. We are now in deep jungle and its presence surrounds us, a tangible feel of being in a primitive but sustaining
environment.
It is dusk, around 5pm and it is recommended that we walk the last 45 mins to the camp overland. Claire is pissed off (understatement) because dusk is the time that mossies are most active and now we have to walk through secondary Amazon forest to get to camp. Camp is a couple of wooden and thatch huts but thankfully surrounded by mossie-netting to give a pretty well enclosed space. Its dark, we want to shower and change but our torches and clothes are in our luggage, and that is still on the boats which haven’t made it round the river to the camp yet. Eventually at about 8pm it all arrives and soon after a cold shower we bed down, on our own single mattresses enclosed in a mossie net on the floor of the main house, exhausted, for the first night.
The next day we get up expectantly. (Claire says: actually I was woken up by a Tsunami which turned out to be one of the apprentices who has flat feet walking to the loo on the uneven wooden floors on which we slept. This was to be the rude awakening I got every day
for the next week). Today we have to harvest the vine and other plants from which the Ayahuasca is made, then make the brew itself, ready for drinking the that night. We all troop off into the forest and Hamilton explains what each of the plants he harvests is for. We collect the vine itself, several tree barks, and leaves. I can’t name any of them now, but am impressed by Hamiltons knowledge of the vegetation in the forest. Before he cuts a piece of bark, Hamilton whispers an incantation, then afterward blows smoke from a fat mapacho (jungle tobacco) cigar onto the wound. This is both spiritual but also seals the wound to prevent attack and protect the tree.
Having brought all the ingredients back to the camp, we have to pound the cut up pieces of vine to separate the fibres, each of us having a go to be able to say we helped make the brew. This all goes according to plan and by lunchtime we have two enormous pots of a brown sludgy liquid bubbling away on a fire. It doesn’t look tasty.
We are really into the Ayahuasca diet now, and all the
food is without sugar, flavourings or even many ingredients. We eat as much as we can for lunch, knowing it is our last meal as we have to fast for eight hours before taking the brew. That afternoon we lounge about, out of the sun and avoiding the mosquitoes by staying in the main hut, each contemplating alone or in hushed groups on the ‘ceremony’ tonight. At dusk Hamilton gathers us together and goes over what this is really all about; drinking the brew in a ceremony, the meaning and process of the ceremony, what part he plays, and what we can expect from it. I am left feeling nervous and excited.
Here is a bit of background from that discussion, which I have cobbled together from some of the available info and what I took in then:
Shamanism is a type of traditional spiritual belief system and utilizes traditional medicine. Found throughout tribal cultures around the world, similarities abound between the beliefs of what seem to be unrelated communities and their understanding and use of shamanism. One commonality is the belief in ‘other realities’ or ‘other dimensions’ that the consciousness travels through during training and then healing
work.
Amazonian shamanism originated in the tribes of the Amazon basin. Through their extensive understanding of their environment they utilized the many medicinal plants, forming a unique medical culture. The Indians learned to heal from the spirits of the plants that they utilized. They connected through the sacred use of visionary plants where telepathy, shared consciousness, and ‘astral travel’ were common experiences. The brew we are going to take is one of these medicines, called Ayahuasca, or the Sacred Visionary Medicine, and has been used in this way for thousands of years.
One cannot simply turn up and take this medicine. Preparation both mentally and physiologically is needed. An integral element of this preparation is to undertake a diet intended to reduce refined sugar, salt, oils, pork, fat, fermented alcoholic beverages, and hot spices in the system in order to realize the greatest potential benefits from the Ayahuasca medicine. (Claire says, read the list again its our staple diet!)
This diet should commence at least three days before the first Ayahuasca ceremony and continue for three days after the final ceremony. Pork in particular is considered to be impure and is studiously avoided by Ayahuasca practitioners.
In addition, and even worse than the diet (depending on your point of view), abstinence from sexual orgasm is an integral part of this diet and is considered, along with abstinence from pork and alcohol, to be the most important aspects of the diet. Abstinence from sexual stimulation and orgasm is a traditional requirement of Ayahuasca cleansing and healing. This isn’t permanent celibacy (phew!) but rather a need to conserve ‘dynamic sexual energy’ for investment in the rigors of the process. This also enables one to focus more purely on the powerful spiritual, intellectual, and curative dimensions of the Ayahuasca experience.
Amazonian shamans universally believe the spirit of Ayahuasca to be 'jealous' of human sexuality during communion with her. This simply means that she may withhold her deeper blessings if one does not demonstrate respect and commitment by focusing their whole essential energy on her. They also believe that ethereal spirits are intrigued by corporeal human sexuality and are more attracted to those radiating unspent sexual energy, thus empowering one's connection with the healing spirits.
We are told that the cleansing benefits and power of the visionary experiences are often greatly enhanced by commitment to these preparations, for such
reflects the intent, which is the single most important personal factor in work with Ayahuasca.
All this sounds fascinating, but it means eating bland food for ten days and going without nookie for even longer. But strangely, once you are here in the jungle environment, it seems the right thing to do.
For the more scientifically inclined amongst you, as I understand it Ayahuasca is basically a potion of several plants but principally two; a vine and a leaf. One of these contains a strong chemical which is known to open the mind like an oyster shell, increasing the amount of activity in the brain and the pathways used. This has the effect of letting you think in ways you cannot normally, creating visions in the brain which can be interpreted in many ways. Normally the brain catches this chemical, which is fairly common, and breaks it down fast, so the effects aren’t felt. So the ayahuasca brew also contains a chemical from the leaf which inhibits the breakdown of the vine chemicals. The diet also enhances the effect. So hey presto - a long and wicked trip! Not sure where the sexual abstinence fits in though! (Claire
says: ha, dream on - single mattress on the floor and in a communal hall - not exactly conducive!)
At eight pm we start to collect together to begin the ceremony. The room has been cleared and mattresses laid out for everyone except Hamilton, who leads the ceremony, and the apprentices. This gives me a bit of a feel of us and them, but what the hell - I go with the flow. In front of each mattress is a large bowl, a roll of toilet paper, and a cup of water. Its obvious that being sick is a key part of this and not to be avoided. In fact evacuation of any sort (or purging as it is known) is encouraged as part of the process, a point of which I am reminded several times over the coming week. The lights are dim and an aura of expectation hangs in the air.
As we settle, Hamilton reminded us to think of our intentions and only hold those thoughts. He gives us a few final hints on helping to maintain focus during the experience. He had told us that the spirit of Ayahuasca gathers up the physical, emotional,
and spiritual pain into the stomach and then purges these ailments - hence the bucket.
We began. He lit a mapacho cigarette, blew the smoke from this sacred, jungle tobacco around the area and toward the heavens, purifying the ceremonial space. He sang to the spirits asking for guidance and protection. He prayed over the bottle of Ayahuasca and blew mapacho smoke around the brew. My anxiety was abating and I was curious about the spiritual connection I was about to experience. He poured a dose of the potion, cradled the beaten up little enamel cup in his palms, and sang the icaros, the spiritual songs he learned from the spirit of the plant and uses to guide the ceremony and call the spirits. We each took our turn, cradling the cup bowl, praying our personal intentions into the liquid, and then downing the contents. The bowl was passed to me. Following the lead of the apprentices who drink before me, I cupped the cup, prayed (mostly to get through this on one piece), and then took a deep breath to muster my courage. Tipping the cup, the blood-thick, acrid liquid filled my mouth. I took it down in
one gulp and tried not to retch. My stomach revolted. The taste and consistency triggered a shiver down my spine, and I involuntarily shuddered. I had had my first taste of the medicine. Claire and I share grimaces across our mattresses.
I concentrated on my breathing, trying hard to keep the brew down until the shaman had served everyone. Immediately being sick was not how I wanted to start the evening ceremony. After all fifteen had taken the medicine, Hamilton resumed singing the icaros and maintained a steady rhythm by shaking the chakapa. This is a bundle of dried leaves which creates a rhythmical scraping sound as Hamilton shook it, accompanying the songs, and orchestrating the ceremony. The chakapa is a powerful instrument and helps the shaman moderate the spiritual experiences of the people.
After twenty minutes or so I began to experience the effects. The experience generally involves getting ‘psychedelic’ type visions of geometric patterns and colours swirling around for a while. Then you settle down and can control the thoughts and visions a bit more and focus towards certain things. It is important to have a purpose to start, as it’s very easy to wander off into dark thoughts. The power of the medicine is such that you can get very emotional and depressed if you don’t keep enough control. Fortunately it is also possible to consciously go into and out of the visions and come back to almost reality to be able to for instance check on how Claire is doing. During this phase your mind starts to make connections between past events in your life and the way you now behave - essentially cause and effect, and you find yourself muttering ‘of course’ occasionally as some relevation comes to mind. You also start to realize how you can alter or change the way you behave in the future because of these realizations, effectively creating a tool set that you take out of the ceremony and can use in daily life. The important thing is always to go with the flow, and to always remain positive, thinking about the light all the time. This is where is starts to get a bit too spiritual - the light and connections with God and spirits etc. Not being that way inclined, I didn’t worry about the all seeing being aspect - which clearly others really focused on - but just the comforting and focusing presence of the light against dark, either as an external source to draw on, or an internal focus on the ‘heart centre’ where you can see those you love the most and draw on that for strength. There also tends to be a lot of visions of snakes and vines!
About two or three hours later you start to feel normal again. There is no rough come down, it just wears off in intensity and you are more conscious of the environment and everyone else. Once we are all feeling ourselves again and either gather to share experiences or troop off to bed exhausted, the ceremony over for that night.
The next seven days followed the same sort of pattern. A nightly ceremony followed the next day by relaxation and recovery, along with discussion either quietly with Hamilton for more personal matters or openly with the others to share experiences. I felt it was quite important to do this and it got easier as time went on. At first you feel nervous about opening up and talking about what happened - it still all seems a bit hocus pocus at times. But as time goes on you realize everyone is having a similar time and worry about the same things; what I saw and what it means, how do I keep control of my thoughts, why am I going down this path of dark thought etc. There are of course no right answers but Hamilton always has something soothing and meaningful to say - he has clearly been there before a lot and knows what he is talking about. The main idea is that the ayahuasca is in control of the healing process, and so will give you a strong ceremony or weak, a lot of purging or not, a lot of emotional turmoil or not - all according to how the healing needs to be done. He stresses that although the process may be difficult in the middle and people can be very unsettled by the whole thing, usually by the final ceremony most people reach a conclusion of some kind and everyone walks away happy.
True to this, all of us have very different times, one has some real trouble emotionally and clings to Hamilton for support during many of the ceremonies, another tackles demons noisily, crying out for release from their grip, another spends most of the ceremony giggling hysterically. Some (including Claire on one night) feel nothing, as if not having taken the medicine at all, and are left feeling a little robbed - we only have five ceremonies in total. But by the end most feel their purging is complete, they understand a little more about themselves, and are content to leave the jungle.
I had so many things to write about the people and events, and even more about my own personal experience. Now it doesn’t seem appropriate. They are their own experiences and it wouldn’t be right to publicise it. It is even difficult to write about my own journey with ayahuasca - you’d probably get more out of me by talking in person over a few beers! I am not a spiritual person, or at least I wasn’t, but as I have been writing this, the deeper we get to the actual experiences, the harder I have found it to express what happened in a light-hearted, sceptical way. It is too meaningful for that. Yeah there is a lot of puking, and choking and spluttering and even shitting, but it is all positive and you cant help smiling as you do it - just like sometimes you feel good after going for a good poo - like you’ve just purged something from your body (or is that just me?!).
Taking ayahuasca really is a mind changing experience, I didn’t use life changing on purpose - in a way I do think it is, but we have yet to see. Certainly I have come away with a toolbox full of ways to deal with situations which will help me. Certainly my mind has changed - been opened permanently by the medicine. Also my attitudes have changed - more tolerance, love and respect, awareness of my surroundings. Yeah I still get pissed off with people - but it all feels like the wiring inside my head has been altered. I don’t know yet if this is permanent.
You have to go to know what its like. Claire and I have started to make a list of those we think would benefit. We’ll make marmalade sandwiches and put them all in a crate and address it:
Hamilton the White Shaman
The jungle
deepest darkest Peru…
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Pat Pemberton
non-member comment
I shall expect it
Tolerance, love and respect eh? I shall remind you of this next time you run out of patience with me. I was hoping to read of any regressions you may have experienced but respect your privacy. Really good piece of writing, enjoyed it thoroughly.