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...