One last time at breakfast we met with the swiss and an Austrian couple who live in Chile and Paris. We discussed politics, economics, education, science, healthcare and finally our experiences with diving, which the Austrian guy had a great deal of, having dived nearly everywhere. He had some interesting ship wreck dive storied tell as well. The Swiss gave me their contact information before leaving back to Iquitos with the Austrians, now I have a place to stay in Zurich.The boat that took them away brought a young Canadian dance couple who were trying to enter the US with 01 visas, which are applicable only to "Artists with extraordinary ability." The pair were also looking to do ayahuasca and were pretty cool to talk to. Their guide wasn't able to get them a ceremony while they were here, but he did find them some plants with high leves of DMT and smoke the leaves. They told us it was like smoking marijuana but much much better.It was decided that our last ceremony would be held in one of the rooms at camp, because our hut was "full of bad energy." The room Christian chose was at the farthest point away from our hut in the woods, it was an enclosed space, with blinds on the windows, making it very dark. At 8pm we entered the room and prepared to make the most of our last shot at visions with the ayahuasca medicine.Christian first prepared the room with the proper incantations, blowing smoke at each wall with a large hissing exhale, even the floor and ceiling were cleansed. Next he did the same with our bodies and after sang a prayer with our names repeated often, asking the spirits to grant us good visions. Because the acoustics were much better in the room than that of our hut, the songs were way more intense and seemed entirely different than before.Blake drank a dose and a half of the medicine, but Ricky told Christian to give me almost 3 times the normal dose, easily more than Id ever drank. Which wasn't a walk in the park let me tell you! An hour and a half later I was really starting to trip hard, sadly it wasn't to last, for I spent the next 10 minutes vomiting painfully hard. Another 10 minutes passed and I still felt pretty bad, so I forced myself to vomit yet again. After which I was much better, and thankfully, still feeling the effects of the medicine, having good visions. Well, better than the last 4-5 ceremonies at any rate.For the next two hours Blake and I laughed like crazy, each of us triggering the other with impersonations of various characters in our lives we know and love. His laugh making me laugh and vice versa, as it's always been between Blake and those he's around, having the very loud, and very infectious laugh that he does. In the end Blake made himself vomit as well, signaling the end of our final ceremony. With one last prayer, we lit the candles and sat in the room talking about the experience.Ricky hadn't drank, but in the middle of the ceremony, while we were all smoking mopatcho*pure tobacco cigarettes, even me because it supposedly helps with visions, I saw Ricky in the corner swaying side to side in a trance, breathing erratically. It only lasted 5 minutes, but he said he was having some kind of flashback, the contents of which he wouldn't elaborate on.We exited the room, swaying on weak legs, and returned to our hut, saying good night to Ricky and the young Shamans. Blake and I were struck by the beauty of the night, the stars were barely visible and mostly shrouded by the clouds, but seemed to be right in front of our eyes, shimmering in the darkness that pulsated with every breath.The moon was low in the sky, illuminating the jungle behind Wilders hut, which we were still using.Blake was still in the trip and wasn't yet ready to sleep, so he got his head lamp and we walked down to the water. This would not last long however, because his light attracted every mosquito in the area, swarming around him in a ball so dense it seemed he would be totally consumed. We returned to the room, escaping the swarm, but not the lasting effects of the ayahuasca, which kept us almost entirely awake till the dawn..
Insanely Political
New arrivals came today, as well as the books Wilder had promised us. Yuka from Japan, who works as a spare parts distributor to Dell and Ybon a Peruvian Chinese mix whose great- great grand father was sold as a slave in Peru way back when. We quickly got to know each other by playing cards and by the time lunch rolled around we were already getting political.We talked about 9/11 being a false flag operation. (meaning a covert staged event to blame an opposing political, economic, or religious group; well-known historical examples of which include, the gulf of Tonkin, Hitlers burning of the Reichstag, the burning of Rome by Nero to blame the christians, remember the maine. So on and so forth.)9/11 was most likely run by Black ops factions of several agencies and organizations, such as the Central Intelligence Agency and Mossad (israeli intelligence) but we may never know. Ybon knew a good amount about it all but Yuka was a deer in the head lights the entire conversation. She said she had never heard about any of it but was very interested, and also that she was sorry she couldn't communicate that well with us, which no one held against her, especially while on the subject of conspiracies, which no one considers polite conversation.Antoine and Marilou had made a deal with Wilder to have an Ayahuasca ceremony that night with Victor. Once we had finished dinner we walked together with them to our hut, and since we believed that you should only be present in a ceremony if you are drinking or interpreting we wished them all the best and excused ourselves to lay down. From what we could hear of the ceremony it was much different from the ones we had with Caesar. The ceremony went until 3 in the morning and we hadn't eaten dinner until nearly 9pm because everyone including the camp cook were partying for the 2nd round of soccer games in Liberta, so neither of us slept well.In the morning Antoine, Marilou and Ybon Prepared to leave. Wilder would be going back to Iquitos as well to get more Ayahuasca, or so he said, we've decided to keep his words in the fantasy folder of our trip until further notice.Before lunch was served a new boat arrived. Blake and I were sitting at the dinning room table playing cards, as we usually did before and after meals. I turned my head around to check them out and guessed out loud that they were German and French. One of the guides we knew from last week came in from their boat and said hello. "Where they from?" I asked him, "not sure, German and French I think," he said as he walked passed us into the kitchen."Howd you know?" Blake asked. The Germans were easy to spot, all wearing Birkenstocks, thin smart-looking glasses, sweat paints and well maintained emotionless gazes, totally textbook. The French were wearing much more relaxed and adventurous clothing, and the guy was smoking a cigarette as he got off the boat, it was a split choice really, between France and the US, I just went with what seemed the most realistic. Not wanting to go into all the details of my observations though, I just smiled and said, "lucky guess."After being shown to their rooms, each group entered the dinning room to eat and we introduced ourselves. Three of them were from Germany, 1 was from France and the other had lived in France, her father was French but her mother was Peruvian, but she grew up in Texas.. So I guess I was right either way. I didn't see the 2 other people at the back of the boat though, they were Argentinian.While eating lunch the first thing I asked David, the French guy, was about the proposed 100% tax rate in France. He said he wasn't rich so it wouldn't affect him, and he could give a shit about the French government anyways. The conversation spiraled out of control from that point on, no one but David, Laura (the french, peruvian American girl) Blake and myself even said anything, everyone else hung back and watched the spectacle.Before dinner Blake and I had yet another plant water sauna that we had helped Victor make. During dinner we weren't so chatty as before but we did play a number of card games with Laura and David. Getting to know each other outside of the political sphere, which is always nice. Blake and I started reading the books that came today and were happy for them.
Friends In Need
You know that feeling when you get up in the morning tired, not from a state of sleep, but a state of frustration, the kind that leaves you somewhat dreading the day ahead? And all of it manifested from the course of a sleepless and otherwise uncomfortable night? Well this was such a morning. It was worse for Blake then it was for me, I actually slept a little, he did not. You see, Ayahuasca keeps you awake, because it, like many other drugs, keeps your mind, or your body, fully engaged. Making sleep a very difficult proposition, even for someone like Blake, who finds sleep easier than I could find water falling out of a boat.At 8 in the morning Wilder came to our hut with two plates of food, each with a portion of Patarashka, vegetables and boiled potatoes. After finishing our meal, which actually took us some time because we weren't really hungry and still in slow mo from our long night, Wilder asked us about our ceremony. Did we have visions? what did we feel? were we ok? that kind of thing. Caesar ate nothing, he just watched and listened while smoking a jungle cigarette (pure tobacco, no chemicals, but strong as all hell)I told him I had no visions, but to clarify for the readers, I had no hallucinations, I did see many things in my mind, but not through my eyes, a distinction I make because in my own opinion, for it to be a true vision, it should be seen, not only thought about. Semantics perhaps, yes, but the most powerful psychedelic trips I have ever experienced, those I truly felt to of had visions with, were those I could not outrun by the simple closure of the eyes.I went on to say that after the ceremony was done I felt a great sadness come over me as I went through all the friends and family I have suffering back home, and all over the world, from a multitude of things really, things like drug abuse, post traumatic stress, anger issues, identity problems, broken homes, debt slavery, cultural occultism, obesity, anxiety, bipolar-ism, materialism and the list goes on..I felt their pain and their struggles to survive against the monsters that haunt them all. How lost each of them are in their own world of sadness they cannot escape. Each of these people has a history with me, moments we shared, both good and bad. They are important to me as companions in the long and unknown journey that is life. I travel the world in search of the things that will change me for the better, forge me into who I will one day become, and in so doing leaving them behind on their own.It is a new idea I've come to recently, one that has shown great promise for the dreams I have for the future. That is, to help them, I must first help myself. For no broken man should hope to successfully lead another before mending himself. This means we must walk the paths we choose, and look not back upon the choice as an abandonment of the other, but a path chosen to lead oneself into the light of your brightest future.We may not stand on the same ground or face the same trials, but they remain inside me, deep in my memories, locked away tightly but free to roam within me as well, surrounding me always, riding my shoulders when I need them to give me strength, when I use them as examples of how to be or not to be, and how to succeed when my base personality requires a certain trait to best suit the moment. It is through them that my adaptation to the ever-changing world I explore is accomplished.Due to a psychedelics ability to emulate any reality, while using them you can actually feel the physical and emotion feelings of others, not just people, but animals, insects, anything. It doesn't end there though, your mind in this state of awareness, depending on dose, setting and the type of substance, can be truly limitless. While emulating their pain, feeling their frustration, I too suffered and I thought about how much I cared for them all and want to help heal their wounds somehow. When you care, you cry, not always because your sad or angry, often because your happy, amazed at your luck, your circumstance, your role in this cosmic play you were born to fulfill. I did cry and all these reasons flooded through me readily.I related this as best I could to the Shaman through Wilder, without getting too detailed, for it would take to long and was not necessary for the Shaman to know at any rate. When I was done Caesar told us he saw the spirit of a large swamp tree surrounding us during the ceremony and that we needed to visit such a tree and pray for our friends there. So after lunch at around 3, Wilder, Moisess, Caesar, a guide, Blake and I all got into a jungle boat, a roofless canoe carved from a single tree, and hauled beside us another boat that belonged to another village at the mouth of the river.At the other side of the river we slid the boat on to the shore, dug an oar into the mud and tied the boat to it. We all got out and started walking into the jungle. There was a path there, cut through the brush, by my uneducated guess, Id say it was traversed a few times monthly at best. It was not very wide or well-defined, it was swampland so for most of the walk we trudged through murky water or mud, always minding our steps as our gum boots got stuck from time to time. We came to the tree only 15 minutes into the walk, but before we were to engage in the ceremony we walked another 15 minutes to get to a small pond with large water lilies floating around the edges.On our way back we stopped at the tree, which was a big black old growth, with large fanning roots that suspended the entire tree above the ground and into the air. An evolutionary trait many trees in the Amazon developed to survive the extreme rise and fall of water that happens every year with the coming and going rains. All around us were vines hanging from its upper branches that also dug into the swamp around it. Some vines in the Amazon are known to strangle the trees they attach themselves to and use the energy they produce to survive because they themselves cannot perform photosynthesis.Caesar, who had been smoking the entire day, blew cigarette smoke all around us, in our clothes and into our faces, making us lower our heads so he could blow smoke into the crowns of our skulls, using his hands as a tube as he blew while chanting with each exhale. He asked us to gather all the positive energy we could and then place our hands on the tree and pray, and so we did. For 10 minutes my mind raced through all that I had thought of and felt in the night, and I asked the spirits of Ayahuasca and of the tree to send all our energy of love and compassion, hope and strength to all our friends and family, but mostly for those friends of ours who are truly lost, truly in need of change. We finished our prayer and left the swamp returning to camp.For dinner we had a plain noodle soup and plain rice, which is much different without being cooked with salt, a truly bland starch is hard to swallow, so we got a lime and squeezed it over it, when that wasn't enough we used a jungle orange, which is actually green and tastes much less fruity than the orange ones were used to, it was a process we would come to repeat almost every meal while at the retreat. When dinner was finished we retreated to our hut in the woods and waited for the Spaniards to come, who can made a deal with Wilder and Caesar to have a one night ayahuasca ceremony. I stayed awake just long enough to hear Caesar begin chanting and then dozed off, my mind lost in the heavy air of sleeplessness and strained emotional faculties...
Money Matters
It is the morning after our first ceremony in Iquitos. We skip breakfast and are met by Wilder, the man who brought us to the Shaman and told us about the opportunity his company offers in the first place. He got us a Tuk Tuk and rode behind us on his motorbike. We lost track of him along the way but thankfully I recognized the alley of the Shaman and instructed the driver to turn off on to it. We even managed to recognize the Shamans house, even though it was all very dark when we arrived there the previous night. We went inside and waited for Wilder to arrive. After 20 minutes of waiting I communicated as best I could with the Shaman that I thought he had lost track of us and driven ahead thinking our driver would keep going passed the alley, which indeed he would have, had we not told him otherwise. The Shaman called Wilder and he joined us soon after confirming my suspicions.Together with the Shaman and Wilder as our interpreter, we talked about our experiences with the Ayuhuasca the previous night. Then they discussed how long we should spend in the jungle. Wilder wanted to know how much time we had to spend and foolishly I think we said, ¨As long as it takes¨ something you just don't say to tourist companies before making a deal with them. Always know how long you´ll commit to. We had talked about doing 2 months before even arriving in Peru but I wasn't really serious about it. Blake however said flatly that 2 months would do to start. Wilder looked at us intensely for a moment, confirmed what we said, turned and told the Shaman. With a few exchanges, which I took to a rescheduling of his life calendar for the next 8 weeks, everything on their side of the conversation ended. We thanked the Shaman and returned to the main part of the city and had lunch at Texas Rose with Carolina. Then we went home and slept in our bunk beds until 5pm. Wilder came at that time and took us the offices of the company;You can find the lodge details here: http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/HotelReview-g294315-d3514228-Reviews-RenacoLodge-IquitosLoretoRegion.htmlWe walked inside the office and he asked us to have a seat. He went into detail about everything we would see, showed us on a map where we would be going in the Amazon and then showed us some pictures of the lodge and some animals. Salesmanship tactics differ slightly everywhere in the world but well and truly Wilder is good at selling ideas to people, and we were eager to be sold, a truly dangerous combination. After a little more posturing he hit us with the price. $750 a week, we laughed a little and told him it simply wasn't possible, at that price each of us would have to commit to $6,000 dollars for the 2 month duration, in a place we had never been, under circumstances we did not know, something I was not going to do no matter what Blake wanted.I made a flat offer of 1500 a month, which comes out to $375 a week. Wilder looked less than happy with this amount but I knew how things here go, the price a Peruvian would pay for something like this would still be even lower than that, and were now in the slowest part of the tourist season, deals can be made. Blake however wasn't ready to give in so easily and offered them $1750 a month for the experience. I didn't like it, but accepted it because I was ready to fulfill our purpose here, even at extra cost, which Blake made clear to me was the least of his concerns if it meant healing himself, a notion I agree with in and of itself, but cannot fully endorse without proper assurance of success, I've always been a stickler for money its true, but because of this, I've always been able to buy what I needed and travel when I wanted. Blake's counter offer seemed to turn the tide in Wilder's mind and he excused himself from the table to "speak with the boss" A classic sales tactic that anyone buying a car will know all too well.Wilder came back and said that because we were friends with the boss's daughter he would accept our offer. $3500 a month for 2 people, it's more than I wanted to pay, but like Blake said, "It's a once and a lifetime experience, and for something like that, its not that much money." Blake tried to get money out of the Bank but it would only give him $200 at a time and in soles not dollars, so he asked his parents to Western Union him some money. In the meantime I would front him the money to pay for the trip. We had dinner with Carolina and returned to the hostel to think about what we had just signed ourselves up for...
Ayahuasca - The Shamans Consultation
We had a big breakfast and a light lunch, eating nothing else for the rest of the day, but still having plenty of water to drink, a requirement in the tropics and indeed anytime you travel. You must have your wits about you after all, and without the main source of fuel for your bodies proper functioning, all hope of such performance is quickly lost to delirium.When night fell and Wilder, our guide and interpreter for our meeting with the Shaman and still further for our trip into the jungle, came to visit us at the Salamander backpacker hostel where we stayed. We took a motortaxi while he rode the company motorcycle behind us. For 15 minutes we rode back in the direction of the airport, through narrow, dimly lit streets and passed various establishments of unknown or questionable character, until turning off the paved road onto a muddy dirt path, with only a single light at the far end to light the ever narrowing corridor.We came to a stop at a light blue building, unfinished in construction by any western standards, but perfectly livable as far as anyone here in Peru is concerned. We were greeted at the door by a large elderly women and several kids of various ages swarming about her feet. As we entered the household Dora the Explorer, a children's cartoon, was on the tv, in Spanish of course, and besides a few things hanging from the walls, the room was remarkably plain.We passed through the building and out into the back yard, ducking under the numerous clothes lines stretching from one end of the back yard to the other. It was dark, but we could see multiple chickens running about at our feet and all over the yard. Mostly we heard them though, there must have been quite a few because we heard many chirps from every direction.Wilder brought us into an enclosed area where 2 chairs and a bed sat across from each other. We greeted the Shaman and he asked us to sit down, we did. Wilder explained everything we must do to properly experience the ritual and went into careful detail how we should and shouldn´t react to certain things that might happen."You must trust the shaman, he will take care of you. You may lose yourself completely to the Ayahuasca if you do not concentrate on what you're doing and why you are here. Remember to always remain focused, your focus determines your reality." Having taken numerous psychedelics before I knew the truth in Wilder's words. It's very easy to let go of yourself and fall into oblivion, it takes guts and raw determination to hold on in the face of utter annihilation.Before of laying out on the mat the shaman set his bag of pure-leaf tobacco cigarettes, 6 bottles and a special fan that helped ward off evil spirits. "Before you drink, you must ask the spirits what you wish to see, ask them to show you, and prepare to see what show you." said Wilder.The Shaman poured me a cup and blew heavy tobacco smoke into the cup, which swirled around inside it and seemed to regenerate itself from inside the cup, long after he had finished breathing into it. Then he blew smoke on my head, down the front and back of my shirt and finally he poured liquids from the other vessels into my hands, which he gestured for me to rub all over my body, as a protection against pain from vomiting or evil spirits coming and going from my body.Finally it was time to drink, I raised the cup to my forehead and asked the spirits to open my heart to the healing of the plant and allow the Shaman to read me like a book, in order to see what must be done in the future, this was after all our first ceremony, designed to show the Shaman how much work he must do in order to help heal our body and minds.I drank the liquid in one shot, taking note after the fact, the fowl, bitter taste of the viscus substance. No matter how hard I tried to swallow the taste away, it seemed to leave a thick layer of itself sticking to the walls of my mouth. In 20 minutes or so it finally faded away. Perhaps It was still just as strong, I just didn't care to notice anymore. Blake drank next, but took it in a few tilting shots. The Shaman took the cup then gave it back to him, asking him to finish everything that was inside, which he did.Wilder gave us a few more bits of information, letting us know that our ride would return at 2am to pick us up when the ceremony was finished, and left the small enclosure, closing us in with a graded piece of metal that had been sitting idly in the corner. As he left, the Shaman began his preparations, and he to drank a cup of the Ayahuasca, poured from the same bottle.We were asked to close our eyes for the entire ceremony, and the Shaman began his chanting and heavy smoking of tobacco. After 40 minutes I had kept my eyes totally closed, it was at this point I began to feel the effects pooling around my consciousness and ten Minutes later it was in full swing. At first it distorts your sense of location, in the sense that you can no longer tell where your own eyes are located. You still see normally, if you care to open your eyes, which I did every so often just to anchor myself to reality, if I felt lost or confused, but then your mind takes on a numbness I can't really explain. Your entire perception of direction is torn slowly away from its origin, and dragged along another plane of existence in a continuous fluid tear within your vision.At this point, all kinds of emotions and feelings rushed into my mind, I felt the presence of disaster in the actions that colored my failed relationships, How wrong I had been in so many ways as a youth and the people id negatively affected along the way. The faces of my family, alive and dead, came quickly, in and out of my thoughts. Not so much as clear visions but as memories and feelings attached to them.I threw up soon after the heaviest part of the trip was beginning to fade, it was at this point the Shaman presented me with another full cup of the Ayahuasca brew. I took the cup, performed a similar ritual as I did the first time, and drank. Unfortunately I wasn't yet done vomiting from the first time around and immediately threw up the second cup while Blake was receiving his next dose. So the rest of the ceremony was a cool down period for me, while Blake kept both cups down without throwing up, until hours later when we were about to leave. "A trait that has inspired many friends and fellow trippers alike to nickname Blake, iron-lung or lead-stomach."Many times during my mushroom trips and even lsd, I experience these emotions and see the same messages, it is because of those psychedelic experiences that I've been able to come to terms with my past, and better deal with all the things in my present, and indeed, even my future. This experience was quite strong for Blake, but not that much for me. Which is fine, because as the Shaman would later tell me, I was quicker to purge what was inside, while whatever was within Blake, was deep within him, and would take more time to expel.At around 1:30 The Shaman took Blake out of the enclosure and brought me to the cot to lay down. While I lay there thinking about the experience I overheard Blake vomiting loudly somewhere in the backyard. For another hour or so I lay there, trying to relax, not knowing exactly where Blake was or what he was doing. It was now 2:30am and from the darkness we heard, "Daniel? Are you ready?" "Yes," I said, "Blake, how about you?" a slow and half way sounding, "yeah." came from the darkness.We thanked the Shaman and wobbled heavily out of the back yard, nearly tripping over the numerous chicks jetting side to side across the yard like mini velociraptors. We came back into the house, said goodbye to the family, got into the motor taxi and drove home in silent amazement at what had just transpired. Reaching the hostel and climbing into bed, very little was said. I found it difficult to sleep, but eventually sleep found me, and yet no dreams would follow, I felt as though I had been in a dream all to real, for a very, very long time...
San Pedro - Temple of the Moon
Ninoska was already gone by the time we had woken up and Luiz was there for a short time before going out to settle his affairs with the bus company for his ride to Nasca. He asked if we would still be there when we returned but really neither of us had a definite answer for him. He left and Blake turned on the tv hoping to continue the Star Wars series that we had been watching the night before. It had ended with Return of The Jedi so naturally it would go to The Phantom Menace next, George Lucas's brilliant idea of making 4,5 and 6 first and then 1,2 and 3 later, not so surprising I guess, it is a space opera after all..Amazingly as soon as he turned it on it was the classic ascending blue type so characteristic of the franchise, Long, long ago in a Galaxy far far away... STAR WARS! So we watched the whole movie and then it went into how each of the original movies were made, how Lucas nearly killed himself trying to make the movies his way, while keeping the franchising rights and also funding all of it himself. Its a great story, we enjoyed it.When it was over Blake suggested that we drink the San Pedro again and go to the Temple of the Moon as Ninoska had planned for us. I wasn't convinced it was such a good idea and muddled around avoiding the commitment while Blake took the initiative and began to drink without me, and this time out of the 2.5 liter bottle that had been cooked an hour longer than the other batch. Seeing my troubles and usually knowing just what to say to give me the necessary kick in the pants, Blake laid on me a phrase he's been known to use before, "analysis is paralysis Danny." With a short and muffled sigh I reached for my cup and pored myself a dose.But it didn't end there. After we had both finished our cups we pored another half and drank that too. Perhaps to ensure the full experience but mostly I think, so that there would be no going back before the day was nearly over and everyone was home. It was 1pm, we got some green grapes at the market, a smidgen less than a kilo for 10 soles, we didn't feel like paying her 12 for the full. You get the sense around these markets that your always being screwed, even Ninoska has trouble getting the fair price from the vendors, but were always standing right behind her when shes asking the price, they see the gringos purse attached somehow to hers and make the leap, no harm in asking right?We found a driver willing to take us to the Temple, we knew it was 20 soles to get there, but the driver asked for 30 and with the San Pedro slowly creeping into us already, I suppose we were more apt to pay a little extra to get there in good time. Even so, the ride was much shorter than I expected and me being the penny pincher I am while traveling felt taken for a ride of another sort as we were dropped off.Getting out of the van, we came to a small barbed wire fence and passed through onto a field that stretched in all directions for several miles There was a village to the right and another in the narrow of the valley much further ahead of us. We continued on the dirt path towards a large mound of rock that could be seen from nearly anywhere in the area. Passing an elderly man walking with slow patient steps, saying hello as we passed, we rounded a mud-brick building and were soon climbing the ancient steps that surrounded the Temple.There were many people about, Peruvians, Foreigners and guides to suit both. As soon as we climbed the ridge there where 5 gringos smoking Marijuana in a nook beside the ancient alter, we said hello and quickly passed them with a smile between ourselves.According to mainstream archaeology the temple is the same age as the Incan Empire, a belief held by many and propagated by the governments and institutions who benefit from a seemingly clean cut answer. Unfortunately for them, it isn't so simple. The Inca's never built anything like this again in their own time, they simply inherited the ruins from much older civilizations and built much less sophisticated structures around them. Main stream archaeology suggests that the less sophisticated structures were built first, but none of them are built under the ruins they're all build around them, and if the technology used to build them came later, how come no knowledge of it survived?In addition to this, there are numerous indications of weatherization totally inconsistent with the 500 year time frame of the Incan empire, the state of the rock in the temple indicates several thousand years worth of rainfall, snow and other elemental damage, making the 500 year time span a ridiculous suggestion. This however is not unique to the ruins in Peru, there are countless other examples all over the world. So why try to convince people were a much younger species than we really are?Well, you try to convince the 2.5 Billion Christians the world isn't 15,000 years old, or that dinosaurs exist, or that everything everyone's ever been told was always a convenient lie to keep them in an intellectual prison. It's not just religion that binds us to a meager understanding of the world, everything from Mass Media, our peer groups and society at large keep us in the box we were born to live in. The truth is the people who have the most power have the most to lose and are scared shitless we'll all walk away from their massive treadmill of death and taxes.Yet I digress..We really didn't want to be around other people for our trip, so we went down the western side of the temple, found some caves that went underneath the complex and found places probably used to sleep carved straight into the walls, there seemed to be cave art on the walls, but my iPhones flashlight wasn't strong enough to pierce the strange darkness that consumed the dwelling.Leaving the cave and coming out into the open field we decided to head for the caves visible in the hills perhaps 1200 meters away. When we were almost there I felt a large bulge in my throat and gagged as I spat grapes and other anomalous greens and oranges on to the dirt between my feet. Blake has disappeared in between the trees ahead of me and after finishing my expulsion I continued on in search of him. Rounding the corner and coming to a small passage leading into a cave system that had a skylight directly above it with 3 entrances and exists in a triangular shape, I saw Blake setting up his speaker on a large rock that lay where it had fallen from the now open skylight.We were all alone, and from the Eastern facing exit of the cave we could see a large portion of Cusco, the surrounding villages and the Temple of the Moon itself, with the mountains rising high above us to the West. As the San Pedro elevated our senses and drew us closer to the rocks and the plants that were all around us, we sat and meditated for several hours.Every few minutes a plane would take off or land from the massive airstrip that dominated the Northern portion of Cusco, flying between the mountain ranges and then making a sharp right through a gap in the peeks. Back in Lima Nino had told us it was actually a pretty difficult maneuver for the pilots, especially when the weather wasn't so good.We could always see the people coming and going from the Temple, although it is an impressive site, most tourists never see it because the companies that do the tours can't get their buses near enough to the temple, the people must walk a fair distance, and the same distance back, and thus taking up too much time, and time, is money... We were glad though, it ensured a mostly clear view of the complex for us and also kept our little spot completely off the touristic radar.Eventually the sun reached a low enough point in the sky for us to take one last look around, enjoy the sights and take in the sweet unpolluted air that flowed freely through the area above the city. We descended from the hills and walked along the cow pastures in the valley below, unfortunately I was too eager in my stride and walked right into a mud pit, soaking my crocks and socks with a thick, mineral rich mud, that had a pungent earthly fragrance too. Luckily I had brought an extra pair of socks, and there was a nearby pond for me to clean off my crocks.After exiting the field through the same barbed wire fence we came through in the beginning, and having no intention of paying the same 30 soles to return home, we walked along the side of the road for what must have been an hour and half or more. We thought of taking one of the many side streets and long steep steps that short cut through the hills and into the city below, we almost did too, but looking out across the city in the state we were in, even after 5 hours having passed, we chose to remain with the option we knew would get us home safely, even if it would take twice as long, a good practice in the psychedelic experience, believe me...We really didn't know where we were until reaching the market that was just up the street from Ninoskas house, but that was all the clue we needed. Making it to the house with no light remaining in the sky we rang the doorbell and were let in by Humberto who used the remote that each phone in the building has on its panel.Humberto had shaved his beard, it was a new face, but a welcomed addition to the group. Humberto had never done San Pedro and either I was trippin or he didn't know how to react to us while on it. Either way, we quickly got into the groove of things, listened to music and decided to go out to the marketplace for dinner supplies. Ninoska, Humberto, Luiz, Blake and I left the house and went down the alley towards the main drag next to the University, where all the students hung out. Luiz had his skateboard with him, it had big ole polyurethane wheels on it and a good balance too. Humberto gave it a shot, and we tried to get Ninoska to ride it, but after Luiz got on it with a little too much enthusiasm and stopped short on a rock in the road flying from the board and taking a dive on the pavement, she opted for a brisk walk instead. Which was fine because Blake took charge from there and channeled Tony Hawk for the rest of the adventure.Once we got to the super market Blake and I realized how off we were in the whole scene and opted to wait outside while the others purchased the goods. I gave Humberto 20 soles and we returned home, with Blake snaking his way through the crowds on the board, his new tan poncho flailing in the cross winds, we were back in no time.Humberto did the cooking while I did all the prep work and the others sat on the couch watching two Peruvian soccer teams battle it out. It was a lovely meal, the best we've had so far for sure. I shared pictures of our families back home, we listened to some more music and one by one each of us faded away into our beds, ready or not, for the goodbyes that tomorrow would bring.
A Shamans Tale
In the morning Ninoska took us the the open market that takes place every Saturday in the plaza. We had a great deal of sweets and fatty deep fried potatoes filled with vegetables, mushrooms, creams, meats and spices of various kinds. We even had ice cream that was hand made right before our eyes, they used a bowl that was spun by hand over some freezing mechanism until it churned into a creamy delicious cream, each cup was 1.5 soles and definitely worth it.From there we found the official Avianca office and changed our flights to wednesday, the change cost us an extra $15 dollars, but we were happy to have the matter settled at last.It was at this point that Ninoska suggested we visit the coca leaf Shaman that lived two cities away. Luiz, Blake and I agreed and the four of us departed on the 2 sole bus that drove in a straight line all the way there. We got off the bus, turned a corner and entered a large house to the left of the street. Ginny pigs in cages lined the wall to the right, with little chiwawa type dogs digging through a compost/trash pile in front of them. To the left and down a few steps was a bench we were to sit on and wait. Beneath it, was a female German Shepard sleeping happily, and beside her was a doberman pinscher licking her gentiles on and off the entire time we were there.A lady had arrived before us and had asked the shaman to help her family with some woe or another. The shaman asked her to write the names of the individuals in need of help on a piece of paper and wrap it around a candle that she would light and sit in front of in prayer.Blake went in first, with Ninoska as his translator, while Luiz and I waited outside. I asked him if he was going to see the Shaman, he didn't seem to think so, but when when Blake came out with a shocked look on his face he seemed to change his mind. I went next.Inside the dark room was a large condor hanging from the wall and many paintings and feathers, rugs and beads dotting the room, with trinkets and such of unknown origin here and there. I sat down he asked me my name, "Daniel" I said, and he told ninoska that he had a good friend with that name who killed himself out of insane jealousy for his girlfriends secret lover, then the shaman went into a trance asking me to blow 3 times into a ball of coca leaves he had bulging in his hands. An interesting way to begin I thought...At first I didn't want to seem to reserved so I blew hard into the leaves and watched him twist them in his hands letting them fall bit by bit as he spoke. The first thing he told me is that I had fallen into a shallow pool when I was very young and hurt myself badly, and that this event had made me distrust the world and had made me a dire pessimist. To rectify this, he said I must return to the place it happened, put the dirt closest to the event in my mouth and ask my spirit of optimism and trust to return to my body.It was true, I had fallen into a shallow pool when I was around 2 and had a shattered bottle pierce my heart, nearly dying and having to go to the hospital. I've always had a dire pessimism as well, and up until now haven't really understood why, perhaps this is my answer.He went on to say that I worry far too much about everything and that I must be positive or I will draw all the negative of the world into myself and effect everyone around me badly. Then he said that I have the spirit of the Whale within me and that I thrive most around the water, "this is where you must live and work he said." In addition to this he said that I will likely marry a Gemini and have 2-3 children.He asked me if I wanted to ask him anything and I asked him what my destiny was, he held the coca leaves tightly then relaxed and said my destiny was to help others and that I would be the bridge between foreign cultures, that I would help cure peoples broken bodies through Reiki and yoga and that If could open all seven of my chakras I would be fine in life.Then he said that I would return in 2-3 years to Peru and that I would have my own business one day.I thanked him, half in shock and almost in tears, and exited the dark room, rejoining the others outside. As I sat down Luiz entered the room with Ninoska while I took my place next to Blake. We both sat motionless for a moment and a powerful gust of wind blew over the entire village, when it settled, both Blake and I looked sideways at each other, each recognizing the expression of awe on the others face, and in unison we laughed as though stunned by some irretrievable thought. "what a trip huh?" I said, "Yeah..." Blake replied.Blake explained his experience, and I mine, when Luiz exited the room, we could both tell it had been the same for him. Although It is an event we all shared, it is a personal one and so I will not relate either of their experiences here.On the ride home, Ninoska explained in further detail the words of the Shaman for each of us, being the only person who speaks Spanish fluently we relied entirely on her for what was said. After we shared our thoughts very little was said, and we rode the bus back to Cusco in a state of contemplation with dreamy gazes facing no direction in particular.We decided to visit the Black market, I needed a belt for my pants and bought 2 hand made tribal ones for 5 soles each, one for me and one for Blake, which he uses as a bandanna.Having 2 days left here in Cusco, and with not much else we want to see, Blake decided to look for San Pedro, another Shaman plant that has been used in the Americas for over 3 thousand years. Named "Saint Peter" by the conquering Spanish upon their arrival, The name is attributed to the belief that just as St Peter holds the keys to heaven, the effects of the cactus allow users "to reach heaven while still on earth"After only 2 minutes in the market we found a woman selling 2 full cactus's, she asked us if we wanted a full or only part of one, a full, she said, would be enough for 5 people. We decided to take the full 7 foot cacti... Taking it home, Ninoska showed us how to remove the fine, plastic like layer of skin, dice it and boil it down for a couple of hours, which is exactly what we did.After a few hours we had 3 large pots filled with San Pedro cooking on the stove. Having no clean socks or cheese cloth to strain the cacti with we used Blakes, Harrington #3 Warriors jersey to extract the last of juices from the pots. In the end we had 5 liters of Mescaline in 2, 2.5 liter bottles. We chilled them in the fridge and planned our trip before going to bed, already a bit stoned from cooking the brews over a friendly game of 13 over several hours...