Ayahuasca and the Journey Across Peru
This article was originally published in the November 2018 Issue of Lucuma Magazine UK Photo by Darrin Wetzel
“How do you feel about taking an ayahuasca journey in the Peruvian Amazon?" Three weeks after my friend Jokke Sommer had expressed an interest in seeking out and experiencing the sacred plant medicine in the depths of the Peruvian jungle, I touched down in Cusco. A few seconds after stepping down from the tarmac my breath grew shallow. Another attempt to fill my lungs with the cool fresh air and I was fully hyperventilating. A security officer stood beside the entrance to luggage claims with a knowing smirk on his face. “Altitud! Tener algunas hojas de coca!?" He reached into a small bowl resting on the table beside the entrance and passed me a few dry leaves. “Chew Señorita”. He must’ve recognized the confusion on my flustered face. Prior to landing I had been oblivious to the fact that the ancient Inca city of Cusco rested at an altitude of 3,399 meters above sea level and the coca leaves he had offered are traditionally considered to be a potent cure for mild forms of altitude sickness. In a half delirious state, I met my driver and was swiftly taken to my accommodation, where the house keeper made me a cup of hot tea from the coca leaves. A few minutes after drinking I felt my body relax and my breathing returned to normal. I felt slightly inebriated, after all coca leaf is the source of cocaine, however the amount of coca alkaloid in the raw leaves is small.
It was seven in the morning and I couldn’t wait to see the city. Leaving my bags, I strolled down to Plaza De Armas, feeling increasingly dizzy. One look over the warm terracotta roof skyline and I could feel the magnificence of this city, it’s ancient walls, wrapped in rich culture and history. However, my body was swiftly betraying me, my breath short, I turned around and started up the hill back towards my new home, this time growing increasingly nauseous. Stumbling into an alley I hunched over and threw up all over the cobble stone path, in embarrassment trying to hide my eyes from passing tourists. Struggling to stand up straight, my eyes happened to land on the street sign in front of me, it read “Calle Purgatoria” (Purge Street). I couldn’t help but collapse into a fit of laughter. The universe has a sense of humor.
Still dizzy but feeling slightly better, I made it back to my hotel. The altitude sickness lasted for 24 hours, coming in waves at the peak of which I often felt uncomfortably close to death, entertaining half lucid thoughts of being airlifted back to North America. But being stuck in bed alone with no working phone I could only hope for the best, and eventually my symptoms subsided. I spent the last couple of hours in bed researching vegan restaurants in town, of which surprisingly there were quite a few. I had settled on a little place called Green Point, just a few blocks from my flat, unaware that I was about to have a meal in arguably the greatest little vegan spot in the entire city. If I could only convey the rainbow of taste I had experienced at this cozy little restaurant. That evening I happily ate my way down the menu, promising myself that come tomorrow I would start taking my ayahuasca dietary preparations seriously.
‘La dieta’, as the shamans call it is a recommended dietary cleanse to be undertaken at least two weeks prior to ceremony. I found the advice inconsistent depending on who i would ask, but generally the consensus was that all red meat, dairy, fermented products, salt, sugar, spice, alcohol, sex and drugs, both recreational and pharmaceutical should be avoided prior to partaking in ceremony. Also any food containing the trace amine tyramine, was advised against. The dieta had for centuries been an integral way to cleanse one’s body from lower energies and clear the pathways for the plant medicine to do its work.
I enjoyed a week exploring Cusco, taking the occasional yoga class, connecting with like minded individuals as if by chance and indulging in delicious vegan treats at the Green Spot. The city proved to be a goldmine for the spiritual arts. Cusco lay at the epicenter of ancient Incan culture. Everywhere I went, art containing the sacred spirit animals of Peru: condor, puma and serpent were represented in murals, jewelry, handicrafts and fabric. Above Cusco, surrounding the greater city area lay numerous hidden archeological sites, bearing immense spiritual and historical significance, the most famous and accessible, Sacsayhuaman and the Moon Temple had both been found to allegedly hold signs of extraterrestrial activity and boasted awe inspiring sacred architecture.
I bought my handmade Peruvian poncho from Mama Rosa, a local artisan in the Sacred Valley renowned for her craftsmanship.
Climbing Machu Picchu
From Cusco I took a thirty minute taxi to Poroy Station and embarked on a luxurious three hour train journey through the Sacred Valley to Aguas Calientes, the gateway to one of the world’s seven wonders: the ancient city of Machu Picchu. A tiny mountainside town built exclusively around tourism, the primary attractions in Aguas Calientes included the hot springs after which the town was named, and a myriad of rather mediocre restaurants. After settling in I enjoyed a full day bathing in mineral water and managed to find a beautiful quaint spot that served vegan and vegetarian dishes called the Tree House, where I enjoyed an epic grilled vegetable spread. The next day, I woke up at four in the morning and strolled up to the bus station through dark empty alleys. A line of about one hundred and twenty people had already formed before sunrise. In roughly three hours we all stood at the front gates to Machu Picchu. I don’t think anyone could truly be prepared for the splendor that lay ahead. Entering the grounds overlooking one of the most famous ancient cities in the world was like something out of Narnia. Truly magnificent, magical, and majestic. It took nearly six hours to walk through the hills and mazes, steps and turns of the city, taking in its otherworldly beauty, incredible architecture and pondering its origins that are still shrouded in mystery. Leaving Machu Picchu was like having to say goodbye to an exquisite lover, knowing you may never see them again. My heart contracted inside my chest as I looked over the site one last time and gave thanks. The thousand meter vertical hike back down to Aguas Calientes took only an hour and left me smiling from ear to ear, although in the coming days I would suffer from severe leg cramps as expected of someone with little hiking experience.
The next day I took an evening train back to Poroy, arriving in Cusco just in time to pack, catch a two-hour snooze and head to the airport. I had booked my flight to Iquitos with a ten-hour layover in Lima, so that I could enjoy some lunch and catch a quick glimpse of the city. After a short hour and a half flight I found myself in Peru’s capital Lima and took a cab down to the Miraflores District, a beautiful California-esque neighborhood situated on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. After scanning the menus of four different restaurants for vegan options I settled for a light salad and smoothie lunch overlooking the beach in one of the local cliffside cafes. Unlike Cusco, where I found myself frequently layering clothing to stay warm, Lima was hot and humid. There was just enough time to enjoy a walk on the sun kissed beach before my flight to Iquitos.
We flew straight into a thunderstorm. I will never forget how looking out of my little plane window into the black abyss I saw lightning cut the skies in half. For a brief moment following, there was a bright flash, illuminating the great Amazon River; it’s serpent shape coursing through the vast jungle below. It felt strangely ominous.
My arrival was a blur; I had been exhausted from the prior night’s lack of sleep and the day’s adventures. I awkwardly stumbled into a tuk tuk (a three wheeled motorized open rickshaw) with all my luggage. We drove for miles in the darkness, alongside about two dozen other colorful three wheelers mad max style, weaving past oncoming traffic and cutting through the thick humid air of Iquitos. In a matter of 48 hours I felt as if I had lived through three separate seasons. Each part of Peru has turned out to be so vastly different in climate. Finally arriving at my destination, I hopped out of the tuk tuk and dragged my wilting body down the alleyway and up the stairs into a dimly lit loft. With crisp white walls, twelve-foot ceilings, and a large king sized bed; my accommodation would’ve been perfect if it weren’t for the fact that there was no hot water. In fact, as fate would have it, I wouldn’t be able to have a warm shower for the next 8 days.
Welcome to the jungle! The following morning, brought hours of tropical torrential downpour. I ran down the block to meet up with Jokke and his friend John Erlend, at their hotel room. We casually strolled down to the banks of the Amazon to have some breakfast and get properly acquainted, before going to meet the rest of the ayahuasca retreat group. Jokke and I had never actually met in person, but had been in touch for over a year after the tragic death of my fiancé Graham Dickinson, who had been his friend and also a fellow world-class BASE wingsuit flyer. It was strange to think about the circumstances under which the three of us ended up on this journey together, but after living through the last two years of my life I no longer questioned the laws of the universe and had learned to just surrender to the experience, whatever it may bring. I took to my two new free spirited companions right away and I would silently marvel at the depth of their incredible friendship throughout the challenging week ahead.
Sailing down the Amazon river
A short few hours later about twenty of us: sixteen participants and four facilitators were on a boat sailing down the vast still waters of the Amazon River. I could pinch myself. It had always been a dream of mine to visit this place. It was incredible to think that the curiosity and call of this sacred medicine could bring together people from such vastly different walks of life. In our group we had: a businesswoman, an exotic dancer, a writer, an ex Vietnam combat veteran, a skydiver, a banker, a wingsuit flyer, a photographer, a yoga teacher, an engineer, a consultant, a life coach and myself a singer - songwriter. We had all been brought together by the call of what the locals called “Mother Ayahuasca”, the entheogenic plant brew known to open up the floodgates of one’s subconscious and allow you to see beyond the veil of consciousness, facilitating deep inner healing.
When we arrived at the banks of the retreat we were greeted by dancers
John, Jokke and I the morning after our third ceremony
Two hours downstream we arrived at the banks of our retreat grounds. The center was in fact a tiny village built two meters above ground, supported by stilts which prevented the retreat grounds from flooding. We were greeted by a group of local dancers. Jokke, John and I joined in the festivities as we were led around in a circle in ritual dance, accompanied by the steady hollow rhythm of drums. After a brief tour of the grounds, we dropped our bags off in our assigned rooms and assembled inside the largest of the three malocas (traditional wooden ritual house), which would be the setting for our ayahuasca journey . The perimeter of the maloca was lined with mattresses facing inward to the center of the room in a sun ray formation. The first ayahuasca ceremony was to commence at 7:30pm the next day, preceded by a nunu (tobacco medicine) ceremony. On the day of the ceremony we were served a very light breakfast of raw vegetables, fruit and quinoa around seven in the morning, then a light lunch around noon. After lunch we would not be having any meals (save for the bananas and apples offered freely at the center) to keep out bodies clear for the medicine. This was the general structure for all days of ceremony. During the day we would be offered various activities which ranged from exploring the Amazon by boat to trekking through the jungle and learning about sacred medicine plants, visiting the local village or yoga. About two hours before ceremony we would be offered “flower baths” - buckets of flower and herb infused water to pour over our bodies. It is widely believed by the Shipibo Shamans that the spirit of ayahuasca finds the human scent foul. Bathing in flower water is believed to bond one closer to the plant spirit world and vanquish the scent of human flesh. Following the flower baths there would be an hour-long sound healing meditation, where various gongs and Tibetan singing bowls would be utilized to relax and align the mind, body and spirit. At seven thirty the first ceremony would begin.
Our retreat centre in the Amazon jungle
Ayahuasca brew and Agua de Florida
The clock struck 7:30pm. My heart sank into my stomach as the facilitators lit candles inside the maloca. The sixteen of us sat in a semi circle facing the three shamans and six facilitators, each of us equipped with ceremonial mapacho (tobacco), bottles of Agua de Florida (a citrus scented cologne used during ceremony to wake up the senses) and giant plastic buckets to catch the purge. As the sun went down behind the Amazon rainforest, the youngest of the three shamans stood up to open the portal to the spirit world and activate the space. He huffed and puffed and sang in a deep guttural voice repeating illegible verses in Spanish, shaking in his right hand a thick bouquet of dried leaves and taking big wafts of mapacho tobacco into his lungs, then blowing out the smoke and fanning it into all corners of the maloca. Behind him at the altar I spotted a tall glass jar filled with a dark liquid. There it was. The female shaman sitting a few meters away had specially brewed this ayahuasca for our group. We were told she was a powerful healer and this particular brew held special significance due to her close connection to the spirit world. The ayahuasca root itself was sourced from a bush in the jungle right next to the retreat grounds and mixed with another master plant called chacruna for optimal absorption. I felt goose bumps and pin pricks all over my skin. The energy inside the maloca noticeably thickened. You didn’t have to be hyper sensitive to feel a foreign presence enter the space. My eyes darted to the dimly lit faces of my companions. Everyone seemed to have experienced similar sensations judging by the wild look in their eyes.
After my name was called, as if having an out of body experience, I slowly stood up and walked towards the altar where one of the facilitators poured me three quarters of a cup of thick brown liquid from the jar. For a split second time seemed to stop. I held the cup in my hands, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out. Here we go. Holding my breath, my heart beating rapidly inside my chest I chugged the entire contents of the cup in one go. I felt the acidic thick brew slide down my throat and down into my stomach. It didn’t taste as horrid as everyone told me it would. I silently walked back to my mattress as Jokke’s name was called next, then John’s. With my back leaning against my pillow I steadied my breath and gave thanks for my healing.
It was about ten minutes before the three shamans began chanting a series of icaros, the healing songs that were integral to the ayahuasca ceremony. They were supposed to guide us through our journeys and bring us back when it was time. Along with the commencement of the icaros I heard the first sounds of people heaving. Twenty minutes into the ceremony most of the room had started the process of purging. Everyone but me. I felt heat coursing throughout my veins. I felt “her”, as if we were now sharing one body. Every time someone in the room purged I found my body turning towards them and my lips moving in a silent prayer for their wellbeing, my right hand outstretched, sending love across the room, heat waves radiating from my open palm. Then I heard her voice inside my head, “they are ok, don’t worry, I am helping them, let’s have a look at you”. Whoa! She is real. She is a “she”. She is REAL! I felt my mind racing, I wasn’t getting ill, I was hyper with excitement. I had zero experience with psychotropic substances and I had no idea what to expect. Then I felt a rush of warm energy coursing through my body, as if scanning me up and down. Then the waves stopped and I felt all of the energy rush into my heart, I gasped. It felt as if my heart had been a lotus flower and “she”, or “it”, gently opened up the petals and saturated the inner depths of my heart center. I felt the pain I had been carrying around in my heart, the anxiety, and the scars, all of it. I felt the energy wash over my heart like warm ocean tide, penetrating every cell inside, stitching up the gaps, and then it was gone. That deep-seated sorrow, replaced by calmness I hadn’t felt in months, perhaps years. I felt her gently close the petals of the flower inside my chest back up and disperse across the rest of my body in tingling sensations. I realized my eyes were still open. “Close your eyes now”. The journey of visions and astral travels I took upon closing my eyes could hardly be described in human terms. I saw colors, spirals, and other worlds. It’s as if the veil was lifted and I was transported out of the maloca, all the while still being lucid and fully present in the moment with all my motor skills, albeit weakened.
At one point in the night in what seemed like a lucid dream, I was helped up and guided to one of the shamans where I received a personal icaro for healing and protection. I never got ill; I saw things I couldn’t explain. I met her. She was kind. She was so loving. She was extremely, fiercely, undeniably powerful. She was I and I was her, we shared my body. The following morning I felt light as a feather, and somehow different. I couldn’t stop smiling. Not everyone had the same experience, but everyone had noticeably shifted. For the rest of my week at the retreat I would do two more of the four ceremonies offered to the participants. In each ceremony, I would gain insight into my identity, my strengths and weaknesses, my past, present and my future.
Drinking ayahuasca was a powerful experience, but not one that I would ever suggest to people for the sake of just trying. My belief stands to this day that “it”, as any experience, which is meant for one’s wellbeing, will always find it’s recipient, just as it had found me. It’s beneficial to understand that drinking the master plant brew will cause shifts in your life not just for the duration of the ceremony or the retreat, but for days, weeks and months beyond the initial journey. Upon arrival back in Iquitos many of us were overwhelmed with the energy of being around masses of people. I was and still remain extremely photosensitive. My sensitivity to food, other people and circumstances has heightened. It has become virtually impossible to remain in situations one would consider “low vibe”. Having been vegan for almost two years I have switched primarily to a raw vegan diet, become more discerning with people I spend time with and have noticed almost immediately an enormous shift in my levels of productivity and heightened success in manifesting my thoughts, both positive and negative. This is no way is meant to sound like an advert for drinking ayahuasca. What one needs to take onboard if they believe ayahuasca will be a quick fix to all life’s problems and an automatic level up in enlightenment, is that ayahuasca only works as deep as you are willing to go yourself. Two years prior to ceremony I had began a process of uplifting my life on all levels. I stopped eating meat, I had never been much of a drinker or a drug user, but I went to complete zero on all fronts, I started a strong yoga practice, I learned to meditate every day and worked on my ego and inner child wounds. By the time I had drank ayahuasca, I had already been doing the work, addressing my shadows through meditation, cleaning my body and nourishing it with love the best I could. Perhaps this is why I didn't physically ‘throw up’ like the others in the ceremony. I believe that the plant medicine worked with what I had already done to facilitate the experience I had. Treating it as we often do in the West, as a pill to get better, turns ayahuasca into just another drug. Ayahuasca is so much more than that. It’s a sacred gift from the Earth meant to be treated with the utmost respect. We need to honor and have a healthy understanding of the ancient traditions and processes by which it is administered.
As the plane descended above my home town of Toronto, Canada I sat looking out my window clutching a little piece of ayahuasca root strung on a silver chain around my neck. It was Victoria Day and the firework displays across the city had just started. As I looked at the colorful explosions of fire down below I gave deep silent thanks for my journey to Peru, for the land, for its people, for the magic of Machu Picchu, for the ayahuasca and the friend who inspired the journey to visit Her in the depths of the Amazon Jungle.
Credit : Lucuma Magazine
In Partnership with Tropical Nomad Coworking Space