Somewhere in the Amazon rain forest
After swallowing a shot glass full of the somewhat wretched medicinal brew, with ceremonial reverence and a personal intention of what to work on for this ceremony, we sit upright in meditative postures, on mattress pads, in the darkness of the Maloka – a large circular palm thatched structure, open to the surrounding jungle sounds. 20 plus Pasajeros in the broad circle, and 6 Maestros at the center, we wait in the stillness of the night, mid the haunting and lyrical sounds of vibrant tropical forest.
Holding down the nausea, the medicinally purgative Banisteropsis vine and synergistic DMT laden Psychotria leaves start working their mojo after about an hour, as the maestros pipe up, chanting their ikaros. I came to think of these as song-lines navigating other dimensional space-time. Traditional Shipibo shamanic healing and blessing chants that, when the maestros are all singing together, can be divinely beautiful, and when dissonant as they individuate, breaking off in turn to sit in front of each one us, shuffling about in the dark, off their kites, puffing away on mappacho – hardcore sacred black tobacco considered the male propitiate to mother Ayahuasca – they can sound like a gang of wailing cats on heat stuck in an air duct.
And so it begins… Read More