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 - Going Dark
"In the jungle you must wait, til the dice read 5 or 8," Were going offline in the jungle now, See you when we return! Love, Danny and Blake.
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...
The Red and White Lines
We spent the day with Caroline, walking about the city, going shopping and eating the Ayahuasca diet meals at Margaritaville. Carolina told us that there were shamans in her family as well and some of her aunts warned her of using magic abilities that she might possess as a passed on trait, from generation to generation. Then she went on to tell us that while under the power of Ayahuasca each person may be presented with two lines of color in their visions, one Red, representing the dark spirits, and one white, representing the good or neutral spirits, and that each person must choose which line to follow.Just as in Star Wars, the dark side is quick and easy, seductive and also quite destructive, while the good is a difficult lifelong process that can be lonely and seemingly un-rewarding at times. While we might not always remain on one line or the other, it is important to know the difference, and make a conscious decision about which one you want to follow.We finished our meal and Carolina went to work while we spent the next 4 hours at an internet cafe, I updated the blog and Blake watched London Real, A youtube based talk show program that interviews all kinds of businessmen, athletes, inventors etc, with the main them of the show being ¨It´s about the journey¨ with one of the usual topics of conversation being psychedelics and each interviewees experience or lack thereof with them.When we finished up there Blake and I had an intense conversation about our childhoods concerning all the ways we treated each other and how the effects of those actions last even to this day. Blake said, ¨People have so many problems, many of them are bullshit white people things, first world problems you know, but they still affect us all in lots of ways, sometimes so badly that were fucked up for life and we don´t even know why, lashing out at those closest to us without even being able to explain the cause.¨While we were having this unreal dialogue a man in blue cut off jeans and dark ray ban glasses came up beside us as we were looking out across the Amazon. ¨relax im a local, I live here.¨ He said in hushed tones, as he swayed side to side a bit with his body as his arms got comfortable gripping the concrete railing in front of him. ¨It´s wild here isn't it?¨ he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. ¨Strong stuff they got.. I partied all last night. Dancing naked with the crazy girls. My fiancée would be jealous though I think, Don´t tell her ok? Shes over there.¨ As he tilted his head in a completely obvious manner behind him towards the cafe at our backs.¨What are we talking about here, white?¨ I asked, swiping the tip of my nose with my thumb quickly, a classic cocaine gesture. He exhaled with a low-tone laugh and looked side to side then looked out across the water, raising his Ray Bans closer to his eyes. ¨You know people come from thousands of miles to Iquitos to get this stuff...¨ a long pause and then he continued. ¨Ayahuasca, you know?¨¨Yeah we know.¨ we said. ¨That´s why were here.¨ ¨Ohh! well then, come with me, come, come along this way with.¨ not even finishing the sentence as he turned away from us walking in a zombie like stride towards the cafe. Seeing no real danger in the obviously tweaked but coherent individual, we followed him 30 feet or so to the table where his companion, the supposed fiancée, was sitting.He told us of his plans to sell his boats in the Caribbean and elsewhere, in hopes of furthering his business dealings in import export, presumably from here in Iquitos back to the States, and then we started talking about what we were all hoping to find, or perhaps run away from here in Peru. He told us he had ptsd and that the Ayahuasca helped him in many different ways. We asked him what he had gotten ptsd from and then he told us that both his father and his brother had hung themselves one after the other. We told him that he was doing the right thing using Ayahuasca and that we were glad he was doing ok. ¨You guys are good people, your ok with me, I want to help you.¨ He said, as we reached inside the cafe window for a pen and paper.¨I got this guy, he´s a real Ace. Lives in the village not far from here, I´ll give you his number, call him, he´ll fix you both, a real Ace!¨ He said, as he lowered his Ray Bans for the first time revealing his heavily hollowed, blood-shot eyes and a finicky gaze. He wrote down the number after placing the dry slip of paper on a perfectly damp portion of the table, handing the now soggy information to Blake, who thanked him put it in his pocket. Blake and I introduced ourselves and with a moments looking around he told us his name was John and that he too was glad to meet us. ¨You going to be alright?¨ we asked, as we excused ourselves. ¨Ohh yeah.. Me? I´m just an old Hanger. I´ll be fine.¨ A very curious expression to use we thought, and said goodbye, walking away without a word to each other until we rounded the corner towards Margaritaville.¨Be careful who you trust.¨ Said Blake, ¨That´s what the coca leaf shaman told me in Cusco.¨ ¨Funny,¨ I said, ¨The shaman told me I don´t trust enough.¨ we laughed and then talked between us wondering which line John was following now, the Red or the White? A question we both equally must consider for ourselves...
Fairwell Cusco, Bienvenido Iquitos
Early in the morning, at around 6, I got up and said goodbye to Luiz whose bus left at a 7am, "When I get outside I will cry." he said, gave me one last hug and squeezed through the narrow slit in the doorway with his large pack. A couple of hours later Ninoska left, we had a nice hug, and then it was just the 3 of us, Blake, Humberto and I. Humberto made a delicious enchilada breakfast with last nights left overs and then he too left us to tend to his business.Our flight to Lima was at 2:40 so we waited until 12 to get a taxi to the airport, which was 8 soles. Upon arriving the woman at the Avianca counter asked us for our tickets, we had only the print out given to us at the main office, she seemed terribly distressed by this, asking us if we had signed in electronically via the net, we said no and this didn't help her worried demeanor. She told us it was a security precaution and that someone had already signed us in. "must have been the people at the office we bought the flights in." We said. We eventually we settled this and then she informed Blake that his pack was to unorganized and had to be wrapped in a plastic wrap before being allowed on the plane, so they charged us 35 soles and wrapped it in an alien green plastic sheath.When we went through security the guard pulled me aside and asked me if I had a pocket knife in my bag, I did, he made me remove it and was going to throw it away, I stopped him in his tracks and said, "this is my father's knife, I'm not throwing it away." His face turned ugly and he said it wasn't possible to keep the knife with me on board, I asked him if there was a way to get it into my checked baggage and he said It was very unlikely. With a final plea he let me through the security door in the back and said I had 5 minutes to return through security and that getting the knife checked was my responsibility. It wasn't really my father's knife, but I had gotten it in Switzerland with my mom more than 15 years ago and I wasn't going to let it go just because it wasn't a good enough story to pass mustard with this guy.I went back to the Avianca counter and asked if they could check my knife in my bag, they said it was impossible, I would have to check another bag with the knife inside. I feel silly to have suggested checking my toiletries bag, but I did and they almost snickered at the idea of it. So I checked my trusted yellow backpack, the one I've been traveling with right by my side for the last 9 years, without ever checking it. I did remove my money satchel first though, if nothing else, Id have that to get me through things if it was lost or stolen. Money is the most important thing to travel with after all. I got back through security and joined Blake sitting in the waiting area of our gate.I looked at my ticket and thought I saw our arrival time as 6:05, I had told our couch surfer in Iquitos that we would arrive at 8:30, So I paid the 3 soles at the cafe for use of their wifi and related to her our change in arrival. Blake got a medium size bag of classic Lays potato chips for us to share and we waited for the gate to open. Soon we were boarded, and as soon as our plane took off I checked my ticket again and noticed with great disappointment in my powers of observation that our flight didn't in fact arrive at 6:05, but at the original time I had told her. As if to ease my conscience, the pilot informed us that due to better than expected flight conditions we would be arriving in Iquitos at around 7:40, which made my blunder a little easier to take.We arrived in Iquitos and walked off the plane down the steps on to the tarmac for several hundred meters until reaching the building at the far right side where our baggage would be unloaded. Moments later we had our bags and exited the building straight into the parking lot where an army of motortaxi drivers and anxiously awaiting relatives of all types waited to see their kin, or whoever it was they were there to meet.There standing next to the curb was Caroline, our local couch surfing host. The three of us greeted each other and crammed into the first motor taxi who had a reasonable price, which Caroline was easily able to accomplish. The motor taxis which I refer to are nothing more than split down the middle motorcycles with a back-end resembling a two-wheel cart with a plastic roof. Some are nicer than others to be sure, but anything fancier would require some higher purpose that doesn't really exist around these parts, with the exception of those used for hauling commercial goods that is.We reached Caroline's fathers hostel, named the Salamander Backpackers, and unloaded our gear into our double bunk-bed room with a single rickety fan spinning haphazardly from the ceiling. The beds were 20 soles a night, which we didn't have to pay. She took us to a local sports bar that was owned by an ex marine and baseball player from Texas that had amazingly decorated walls, full of jerseys, sports memorabilia, 25 foot snake skins and much, much more. The upstairs bar was named Margaritaville and aptly so, the winding metal staircase was actually pretty treacherous, in the states we'd call something like that a lawsuit waiting to happen, but here in Iquitos, and indeed in South America at large, no such weakness in a local drunks character, or ability to make any claim of fault except that of his own, exists.Looking at the menu, we found the Ayahuasca diet options in the very back. Blake chose the veggie burrito and the fish and I the personal veggie pizza. My pizza was blander than any Id ever imagined, it didn't even have tomato sauce on it, I nearly choked on the dry crust. Blakes Burrito was the same, but at least his fish was alright. We ended up having to get some sugar-free fruit juices just to get the food down. We spoke a little with Caroline about our plans here in Iquitos, that we were looking for a legitimate Shaman to facilitate our Ayahuasca Healing and that we were not interested in a mass ceremony with many people. She said she knew someone who might be able to help us and that we could talk with them in the morning. We returned to the Hostel, said goodnight to Caroline and returned to our bunk beds to sweat the whole night through beneath the rickety, barely effective ceiling fan.
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.
San Pedro - The StarGate
In the morning Luiz and I went to the internet cafe, I wrote a blog post and we ran back to the house to meet up with Ninoska and Blake. We took a taxi to a bus station and from there we met up with two of Ninoskas friends, one a Spanish teacher and the other her Portuguese student, we greeted one another and piled into a van that would take us to a valley in the hills an hour away. Getting off beside a river we crossed the bridge to the other side, and Ninoska pointed out large metal pods dotting the mountains high above us, apparently someone had the bright idea of turning them into a hotel, one you have to rent climbing equipment just to reach.On the other side of the river we took out 3 cups and pored the viscus liquid into them. I was able to finish mine in one go, Luiz had an inch left in his, and Blake took the entire 30 minute walk along the train tracks to finish his, one sip at a time, which I know is the harder way to go, but he's always been a more cautious tester than I.The view along the tracks was gorgeous, with open fields, high mountains, a heartily flowing river and beautiful green trees lining everything around us. It was a scene reminiscent of so many movies I've seen before, you know the ones, desperate or wild youths of all kinds setting out down the tracks in hopes of escaping whatever, or wherever they came from.Compared to Cusco there was virtually no pollution, except that of trash here and there along the track and in the river, still, it was quite nice, and each of us was happy to be there. We came to a road and a dormant row of rail cars filled with plastic bags, that were themselves filled with something else. A short hike further down the track we came to a trail leading up into the mountains, at first nothing discernible could be seen but then we made out a large rock dwelling a hundred meters above us or so.Surrounding the dwelling were several large terraces that had completely grown over with shrub, no one had tended to them for quite some time. We climbed the grown over steps until finally reaching the dwelling. There was a wall with many windows that had recently been made, perhaps 400 years ago, you could tell that it had once been apart of a greater structure, that now was long gone. Beside it, and underneath the large rock ceiling that covered a portion of it, was a large smooth single piece stone that had been intricately carved into some sort of alter, the top half of which had been broken off, and likely resided beneath the ground in front of it.Behind all this, and further into the cave dwelling was a star-gate like entrance that led nowhere, something like a large rectangle laying on its long side, carved straight into the wall, with another, smaller rectangle standing on its ends carved deeper within it. The level of precision that each cut was made, and the perfection of the proportions relating to each shape is really hard to imagine. Within the last rectangle was a prayer offering, some flowers and half burned incense. In the very back of the dwelling there was a rock wall half way to the ceiling, climbing that you found yourself in a cave in which you could hear bats fluttering about, but no exit or entrance to any deeper part could be seen or foundWe all sat and meditated for a time, I was the first to drink and thus the first to feel the effects of the San Pedro, and I was also the first to get up and walk around. I went to the right side of the outer structure and climbed the rocks that made up the roof of the dwelling, above I could see more terraces and little hovels that used to be something else, but they were so grown over I couldn't really make out what.Beyond the first outcropping of rocks I found a hole big enough to climb into that went straight down into the area behind the dwelling, the structure must of had connecting tunnels at one time that were now blocked off, and this was an entrance or exit to those tunnels that still remained open. Feeling more and more confident in my abilities by the minute, thanks to the Mescaline, but not enough to risk entry without my companions knowledge, I decided to climb the vast ridge that rose up beside the whole area instead, at least this way they would be able to see me, and what I was doing.The ridge was quite narrow, perhaps only 2 feet in width in places, I was wearing my crocks and socks, with virtually zero tread, but somehow was making light work of the entire endeavor, Looking at my companions below I quickly noticed that Blake was in hot pursuit of me, easily closing the gap I had made between them and myself, and joining me on the ridge moments later. From where we sat we could see both sides of the valley, one leading back to the main river and the road from which we came, and the other into parts unknown.As the San Pedro worked itself into us, a sense of unity with the land and disconnection from the world of man pervaded over us. "it's funny how quickly (man) becomes something so entirely separate from something else inside us in this state of awareness, isn't Blake?" I said. "Yep" he said, as we both turned our focus to the roaring siren of the train rearing the corner to our left. A huge and ugly beast, tearing its way into our reality, we quickly took on the emotions of the native peoples who must have felt just as we did right then, back in the time of Americas conquest by the western juggernaut of expansion and genocidal colonization. How terrifying and invasive such a creation must have been for the indigenous people of these lands. How hopeless they must have felt in the face of these demonic metal behemoths spreading the white devil and his ways all over their lands.The train passed and some other people joined the others in the dwelling from the tracks for a short while, after which Blake and I returned to join them as well. At around 4 we left the holy site and once again walked along the tracks back to the river. Halfway there I vomited all over the tracks, several times, each one the hallucinations became more vivid and intense, as they usually do when I vomit on psychedelics, and just as I did a family passed us on their way to who knows where, an interesting passing of souls to be sure..We stopped at a store and our two sober friends got somethings to snack on, while Blake and I went across a small bridge and sat down overlooking the brook. We left shorty after and I remained behind the group looking about, enjoying the sensations that flowed freely through my muscles and skin. Mescaline allows you to feel the same bodily feelings as mushrooms but doesn't effect your mind in almost anyway, something I cant say the same for mushrooms, which is entirely overpowering for the mind and body, making mescaline my top choice for people who cannot handle the mental aspect of psychedelics. It's really amazing actually, I didn't even think such a substance existed, even Marijuana can scare me pretty bad, not so with San Pedro.While the rest of the group was a good 30 meters ahead of me, an elderly Peruvians women, perhaps in her 70's, wearing traditional dress and a beautiful rounded red cap, came up behind me and I offered her some of my water, she graciously accepted and we talked while we walked about the beauty of the land and of the crazy metal pod hotel that was now visible upon the mountains in front of us. "It's just a crazy thing for money!" I told her, she smiled a broad and terribly cute smile and held me with a laugh, Sii! Claro.. She then said several things in quick succession which I didn't understand, but I nodded knowingly with the intermittent , "si" to keep her going smoothly, and for every one of my nods and "Si's" she would give me a smile and call me here "little one".With one last smile and an air blown kiss from her time and experience worn hands, she bid me farewell and walked off into the field to the right and tended to the animals grazing there. The group was waiting for me at the junction and when I came within range they asked me what we had been talking about and I answered honestly that I really had no idea.. haha.We came to the side of the road and waited until a Movil Bus, one of the many tour buses in Peru, came to pick us up. The ride home was astonishingly beautiful, the sky was lit from all sides with a stark orange glow, emitted from the falling sun, and the clouds were creamy white mixed with hints of dark grey, signifying the coming storms which would bring the rain. As we ascended back towards Cusco, a bull fight could be seen in the city below, with the cheers of the crowds surrounding the arena still seemingly audible. There were only 3 people on the bus, the driver, his copilot, and a Frenchman with an entirely ridiculous accent, so heavy, it was beyond comprehension, I almost thought he was a collective figment of our imagination!We returned to Cusco, paid the 10 soles for our wonderful ride home and we then said goodbye to our two new friends, both of which knew beforehand that we would be partaking in San Pedro, but came along even so, and Im sure they are glad they did, just as we were.Ninoska, Luiz, Blake and I went to a Pizzeria, ordered a large, half vegetarian, half meat pie and sat in near drunken states waiting for it to be ready. In a strange twist of circumstance, the pizzeria was playing on all 3 television screens, UFO and alien conspiracy shows, with the go to X-files sound track to boot. We all thought that was very intriguing, especially Luiz who was kinda tripping out on the whole scene.We took a taxi home and sat in the living room listening to music for the next 3 hours, At the end of which Ninoska decided to drink a cup herself, none of us thought this was a good plan, since the duration of the trip is over 10 hours and she had to work in the morning, but she had really wanted to join in on the experience with us, so she took the plunge. San Pedro by the way is no glass of fresh OJ by any means, it's harsh and hard to get down, just what you'd expect a cactus to taste like in liquid form. I played some of my trippy music from my trippy friend in Australia that I worked with on the Boats and she freaked out a bit, so we all went to bed and somehow she was good to go to work the next day...
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...