This is the story of my trip to Peru to try ayahuasca for the first time in the company of a shaman. I am writing this from my hotel bedroom in Iquitos. The trip has been a year and a half in the planning, and has been my first 'holiday' for over a year.

I cam here with a lot of expectations, even though one is not supposed to have expectations about this experience. I came here to this hub of biodiversity as a kind of a mid-life pilgrimage, a search for some sort of spiritual affirmation. That doesn't mean I expected answers. I have enough experience with these states to know there are no answers. However, one can at least start to understand more about the questions. So I came here to do that, and to learn from the plant teacher Ayahuasca.

The shaman my good friend Dave and I selected was Percy Garcia Lozano. You can read all about his DAS healing centre here. Percy is well respected, appears frequently at conferences and has appeared on television on Bruce Parry's 'Amazon' programme. As I had had good references from sources in the know, I knew I would be in safe hands. We'd selected the full 10 day course - 5 Aya sessions in all.

As I write now, Dave is still is the centre, 50km away from me and uncontactable, waiting for his fourth session. Yes, that means things didn't go quite as I hoped.

It all started two weeks ago. Life has been incredibly stressful for me this year. My family and I are emigrating and I have had to leave a brilliant job which I loved. At the same time, I am studying a degree in neuroscience and biochemistry (thanks Nexus for the inspiration). That explains why I've not posted on here for quite a while. I also have a young baby. As part of moving, we renovated our house in the last six months, which has involved a great deal of upheaval. In the last few weeks the intensity has increased as we have also been meeting friends to say goodbye. For me, there has been some heavy drinking involved.

So two weeks ago I lay down in bed and suddenly my heart went crazy. Totally irregular. Sometimes the beats were fast, sometimes slow. I thought it would pass, but it didn't pass. It just kept on skipping and palpitating. I wasn't scared, but called an emergency number. They said as no doctors were open, I should go to accident and emergency. I caught a taxi there, leaving my family behind, and waited in the forlorn waiting area, with anguished parents with their young babies. After about two hours, the crazy heartbeats suddenly went back to normal.

By the time the doctor saw me, my pulse was completely normal. I was sent home, but advised to get properly checked out. But there wasn't time due to the delays I would experience getting a hospital appointment. I would have to do it post-emigration. I should emphasise at this point that although the experience was most disturbing, I felt no other adverse symptoms and none of the staff I dealt with treated my case as an emergency situation.

This sort of experience is common. Stress can be a factor, as can heavy drinking. Caffeine can also be a problem. I felt relieved that I had not been given medication (goodbye ayahuasca) but concerned about what to do. Should I go to Peru? Should I dare to take ayahuasca in a remote lodge, miles from anywhere?

The next week I cut out caffiene and alcohol. I tried to de-stress. I had no more symptoms, in fact I felt healthy. I decided I needed the holiday, so should come to Peru. As for the ayahuasca, I would have to think about that.

After much anticipation, the day came, and I left to come here to Iquitos.

The flight was long, but easy, as I slept much of the way. The further I got from the stress of my normal life, the more confident I felt that I would try ayahuasca, as long as my heart didn't do anything odd.

Iquitos is quite a town; being hot, grimy and mostly under construction. There are very few cars, but lots of three-wheeled motorbikes (motocarros) ferrying everyone around. It reminds me of a crazy fairground ride where the customers have smashed through the barriers and have taken over the city. Traffic lights are rare, crash helmets even rarer. Outside of the small town centre, there is a thick urban band of concrete and corrugated-iron dwellings. Beyond that, the single main road passes the airport and then leads past sporadic lodges towards rainforest and, ultimately jungle.

Before going to the ayahuasca retreat, me and Dave got talked into a tour. It was one of those situations where I immediately wished we hadn't done it. We were taken on a boat to see tribal dances of local tribes, but the 'dances' were absurdly shambolic. A motley group of sometimes as few as three indigenous people ran round in circles, bumping into one another, before grabbing us to join them in the running and bumping, then finally surrounding us (with a dozen or so more native people who suddenly appeared) to pressure us to buy souvenirs. I found the experience embarrassing.

We did meet the owner of a wildlife reserve who, when he found we were going to take ayahuasca, explained to us that ayahuasca is very, very important for the people of Iquitos, and for the world. He was fascinated when I told him that people smoke changa (when I explained what it was). Later we had the same interest from a motocarro driver. I have no doubt ayahuasca is of great importance here.

Nightlife in Iquitos for clueless tourist gringos like us is concentrated around a few blocks and a few bars. Dave and I felt like celebrating - we hadn't seen each other for over a year, but we knew we couldn't drink 3 days before starting the diet (la dieta). We ate pizza and chatted excitedly about what was to come. At 8 o clock, we went back to the hotel. What do city people do at night when they don't drink or gamble, and all that is available are bars and casinos?

The next day, Percy's driver arrived bang on time. He spoke good English, and was an affable chap. He told us he needed to stop at Percy's to pick up a pipe. Could this mean Percy smokes changa as well, we wondered. When we arrived at Percy's meagre house near the centre of town, the driver brought out a large drainage pipe. Maybe not. Percy's wife gave us a cheery smile and a wave as we drove off.

The drive was over quickly and we were dropped off at the village of El Triunfo. There we met Carol who is Percy's translator. Carol was also very friendly and set off at a fearsome pace down the sodden forest path to Percy's place. Our bags were heavy and as we crossed innumerable rotten planks balanced over streams and navigated slippery slopes the sun beat mercilessly down upon us.

After half an hour and about four pints of sweat, we arrived at DAS - Dios Ayahuasca Sanaciones.

(to be continued - with photos and reports)

--- waiting on baited breath for the next missive.

The tour of DAS did not take long. The centre has about six or seven single and double huts for guests. They are reasonably spaced out. A slow moving muddy brown river runs through the centre. At one point a set of wooden steps leads down to a platform from which you can step into the river to wash. Paths made of ten inch thick sections of tree trunk traverse the centre, leading to each hut.

The huts are basic, with a bed, a mosquito net (with some holes), a chair, and a small bedside table. Dave and I have a double with a bed each. Each hut is raised about five feet from the ground and accessible by steps. A small gangway leads from the back of the hut to the toilet. Flushing is accomplished using a bucket and a bin full of river water. Like the rest of Peru, there is a bin for used toilet paper.

We unpacked then wandered around the camp, took our shoes off and walked into the Maloka, the large central hut where the ceremony would take place. The Maloka was situated above the river, accessible by a long gangway. The first thing that struck me was how huge it was inside. In the corner was a pile of mattresses and near one wall was Percy's chair (throne) and a table covered in plastic bottles filled with plants and liquids. There were also some lighters and a schacapa (leaf shaker). At the back of the Maloca was a large stack of plastic buckets. Besides these was a door, which led to another gangway, and five toilets. I thought the toilet to person ration of 1 to 2 said a lot.

On the way back down to the stream we went to walk past a person in shorts and a t-shirt when we realised it was Percy (our Shaman). He was solidly built, with a deep resonant voice, a big smile and twinkling eyes. I felt that he had real gravitas and found him an impressive character.

Back at our hut, Carol arrived to tell us we will be given a 1.5 litre flask of hot ajo sacha (wild garlic tea) every day which we must drink. She explained that the spirit of the plant was as important in the healing process as the ayahuasca and would help us sleep, giving us vivid dreams. She told us there was a flower bath blessing with Percy at 5 o clock, and then the ceremony was at 7. Within 15 minutes of her leaving, the ajo sacha arrived. It tasted strongly of garlic, but did seem to have a mild calming effect. I drank about four cups while we talked excitedly about the coming ceremony.

Five o'clock came, and a tropical storm arrived. The temperature dropped, so when we left for the flower bath, it was freezing. Arriving by the river, we met three other participants in the night's ceremony, one from Scotland and her friend from Germany, and a young man from India. They seemed nice, down to earth and perhaps a bit sceptical. Which made me relieved. I do not consider myself a 'true believer' in spirits etc. As I spoke to them I suddenly felt my heart skip a beat. This is something I've suffered from for years - the 'skipped beats' are called PVCs. Normally I wouldn't be bothered as they are not dangerous, but obviously due to my current health they cause me considerable anxiety when they start.

I poured a bucket of water over my head to wet myself for the flower bath. More skipped heart beats. My anxiety increased. Then, I stepped up to receive my blessing from Percy. This consisted of blowing a lot of Mapacho (Nicotiana rustica cigarette) over my head, on my face and over each shoulder, and pouring freezing cold water infused with rose petals over my head from a carved coconut shell. It was hard to tell whether my shivering was nerves or cold, but whichever my heart continued to skip beats like crazy - about one every twenty seconds.

We returned to our hut and I tried to relax. My heart settled back down to normal. My mouth was dry, and I paced the room. As if the fear of the voyage and the sickness wasn't enough for my first time, I had heart issues hanging over me. Would they turn into some sort of nightmare trip, where I would be sure I was dying? What if I panicked and demanded medical attention? how the hell would they navigate me through the dark rain down forty-five minutes of unlit muddy forest and streams, to a road where there were only combis (shared minibuses) which may have stopped by that time of night?

By 6 pm the candle went on, and by 7pm it was pitch black. A thunderstorm echoed in the distance, and the rain continued to fall heavily. Using torches, carrying our survival kit of blanket, pillows and water, we slid across the log paths to the Maloka.

Inside, it was stiflingly hot and dark, lit only by two candles. There were about 11 people radially arranged around the centre, mattresses like spokes, but no Percy. I was surprised to see that Carol was joining us in having ayahuasca that night. Carol advised us to get comfortable and then zipped herself up into a sleeping bag. How she managed to do this in the heat, I do not know.

I sat up and monitored my heart. Thud thud thud thud...THUD...thud thud thud thud...THUD. The PVCs were coming every ten seconds or so. As I monitered them, they got worse. I was aware of the feedback loop I was in. Time crawled. Where was Percy? I started to panic. What the fuck was I doing? Who would be able to help me if something went wrong, and everyone is rolling about on the floor, vomiting and crying for help? Could this be the last thing I would ever do?

I tried to calm myself. I told myself that my blood pressure has always been normal; that ayahuasca increases it slightly and raises heart rate slightly, but no worse than many other things, like stress, exercise or alcohol. But I started looking for a way out. I thought: If I count to ten, and there's another PVC, I'm leaving. There was. Ok, I thought, how about another count to ten? It continued. I thought about how to get out. What could I say to my friend? After all this planning, all this time? Sorry, Dave, I've changed my mind, I need to leave? I played it through in my head over and over again, going to Carol, whispering to her: I have to get out of here.

I lay on my side and for some reason the skipped beats stopped. I tried to relax, almost putting myself to sleep. I rolled up the long sleeves I was wearing to avoid mosquito bites; it was too damned hot. I waited, and waited, and waited. After two hours in the hot Maloka, with the insect-hum-pulse of the jungle at a crescendo, the door opened and Percy walked to his chair. At that point I knew I was going to go through with it...

(To Be Continued)

Attached.... some pictures: Percy's table (anyone want to guess at what's on there?), The Maloka from inside and out, and our hut.

MOAR MOAR MOAR!

(quick note - I'm still here in my Iquitos room and I'm loving writing this for the nexus).

Percy sat in his chair in the half light, rearranging bottles, puffing smoke with his Mapacho. First, he gave us each a protective amulet and a perfume blessing in situ on our mattresses. Then, one by one in a deep, quiet voice, which I strained to hear with the rain and the calls of the innumerable jungle critters, he called us up. I was the last in line. Each person who stood before him held their hands together in reverence and took the silver cup, then up-ended it into their mouths, the audible gulp of their forced swallow somehow reverberating around the huge hut.

Finally, it was my turn. It tasted oddly pleasant... something like root beer, but then the aftertaste kicked in; thick alkaloids which coated my throat. I returned to the mattress and sat up as waves of nausea passed through me. At this point I should mention I hate vomiting and avoid it whereever possible. I knew that I wouldn't avoid it.

At that point they snuffed out all the candles. I wasn't expecting total darkness; for some reason I had forgotten about that. It was terrifying. I felt alone, but it was too late to worry. I just had to get on with it.

Then the icaros (shamanic songs) started with the quiet tick, tick, tick of the schacapa. The songs build slowly, Percy's whistling, and singing arriving at just the right spot, like a progressive trance song. Each song is simple, but has odd parts where Percy whoops a high note in the middle of a phrase in a lower octave, an unusual effect. Each song seems to be primarily about ayahuasca.

Five minutes in, the Indian guy hurled two mattresses away. I checked myself. I felt ok. The nausea had passed. I waited for another fifteen minutes, clutching the bucket like it was a lifebelt; the mattress being my life raft in the black ocean. I noticed what appeared to be a blurred Chinese dragon (the kind that dances in Chinatown for New Year) shuffle past in my peripheral vision. Interesting. I realised I could then be sick, and retched. One, two, three, splash. It was all out. There was a brief aftertaste of the ayahuasca but no feeling of bitterness or toxicity. There was no feeling either of the ayahuasca 'moving around my organs', or 'purging out all of toxins'. It felt almost like water.

We were told earlier to concentrate on what we wanted to get out of the session. For me, I had decided, rather obviously, healing for my heart. I lay down on the mattress meditating on this and the visions came.

My first experience
The very first clear vision I had was a zigzag line of patterns (see picture below).

A black dome surrounds my mattress, some sort of lattice of black energy lines. It is the protection of the shaman. A bizarre cartoon-like red robot scoots past the side of the dome and above, two glossy-bodied flying aliens flutter in frustration, their giant eyes watching me with curiosity. I know this place. This is the edge of typtamine-land. My fear has disappeared and I relax. My heart is fine.

The edge of a city approaches. I am in a market. Around me crowd many people, holding up native Peruvian crafts (I should note I was looking at crafts that morning). But the quality of them is far in excess of anthing I have seen in Peru. I see wooden carvings of staggering intricacy and accomplishment; tapestries woven with incredible designs depicting the ayahuasca experience. On one stall I see an assortment of Picasso-like cubist paintings in shades of blue, which morph and change as I study them. Stalls glide out of nothing and display bizarre modern looking items which are nothing like anything I have ever seen. I am told that this place is where the indigenous Peruvian artists draw from for their traditional crafts (see picture below).

The feeling in my veins is the feeling of DMT coursing through my body.

I see city walkways, corridors, rooms and doors amongst the stalls. All around people walk from one stall to another, mainly humanoid, some dressed in clothes. A procession of small children walks in front of me. I try to grab one and her face comes up to fill my entire field of view. A young girl with pig-tails but her eyes are small and wide apart and her face is slightly gray (similar to a Chris Cunningham video I saw a few years ago). Are you real? I ask her. Her head suddenly becomes a fractal around the edges of which are many copies of her pig-tailed face and head; a kind of monstrosity. She fades without answering.

I try to read the signs attached to the shops and stalls but the letters on close inspection are jumbled nonsense. Far down one corridor I see representations of psychological issues I have surrounding a door. There is a figure by the door, which I recognise as my long-dead grandfather. I try to get to the door but it is too far away. The visions shift and mutate. A huge rock-faced entity crouches down to look at me, but I tell him to go away, I am protected.

Tick, tick, tick... Percy has started a new Icaro and the shaking of the leaves is like a breadcrumb trail which I can follow...

I change to a futuristic hospital room. Glassy objects float into the air, held by invisible hands, connected by wires and tubes away from my field of view (see picture below). Some of them look like probes, others have display screens covered with alien symbols and writings. One of them seems to be scanning me. I am asked to hold up my hand and I do so (in real life). The probes move around my hand. It is like they are healing me. I see a white telephone 'docking station'. Docked onto it, a curved, white phone has the letters 'work' flashing in red. The phone is obviously the 'heart' and the docking bay the 'body'.

Suddenly, the visions stop. Twenty to forty five minutes in total. They don't come back at all.

I have slight nausea, but am ok. The songs stop. There is more waiting in the dark. I whisper to Dave, he's fine. A Canadian ceremony-goer goes into an epic hurl, which fills the Maloka. It sounds really painful. The poor bastard. He gasps for breath between each screaming purge, magnified by the absence of light.

Eventually, Percy comes round to each of us in the dark to carry out the final part of the ceremony where he taps the rattle on our head and shoulders for a couple of minutes, scattering rose perfume on us.

Carol's quiet voice in the dark tells us the ceremony is over. It has been about five hours since we got here. Somehow I have lost track of time somewhere.

Dave and I head back to our hut by torch light. When we arrive, Dave rushes to the toilet and is sick again. This echoes through the DAS centre. Exhausted, we fall asleep.

My first experience was lovely. It was really easy on me physically. However, I was disappointed not to get something stronger. It was just too similar to places I had been before, without all the effort of coming here and drinking ayahuasca. I hoped for a stronger experience next time. But, as the Canadian had advised me early - with Aya, be careful what you wish for.

(still to come: La dieta bites, Percy interprets my visions, my incredible second Aya experience, why I left early, and what I learned!)

The suspense is killing me!
Great story, I love the drawings!

I too am captivated and waiting for the rest

Great story, look forward to the rest!

This is great, majapanix! Waiting for more!

The next morning, we awoke fresh and breakfast arrived. As I have mentioned, La dieta is an integral part of the shamanic ayahuasca experience. It involves eating no salt, sugar, not much fat, no meat, no fish (in DAS, not always), no spicy food, no garlic (sometimes, including in DAS), no dairy, no fruit, no alcohol - oh and also no sex. Breakfast looked inviting, a sort of crunchy looking bircher muesli. Except looks can be deceiving. Under a layer of crumbled nuts, with a blob of peanut butter, was cold watery porridge. I just about managed to eat it.

Dave and I chatted excitedly about the night before for about an hour. Then, out of the mosquito-net-screened open window of the hut, we saw our neighbour approaching, an American woman who was here on her own. I leaned out of the door and started chatting about my experience, but suddenly she cut me dead.

'Can two you stop talking so loudly, I can hear every word that you say.'

Well, that put the dampener on our enthusiasm. So I retreated back to the hut (which, incidentally was dark within all day owing to the screens) and continued the conversations with Dave in muted, more forlorn tones. Luckily that neighbour left that same day, after - I should point out - she had a visitor and had an equally loud conversation which we could hear... and then blanked us when we said hello as we walked past! So much for tolerance and respect.

Mmmm... what to do all day, I thought. Actually there wasn't much to do. So, we sat back, drew some pictures and wrote some notes on our experiences. In what seemed like a very short period of time, lunch appeared. Plain white spaghetti (cold) in a tomato sauce, with a bowl of quite nice vegetable soup. If the spaghetti had been hot, it would have been ok, I thought. I noticed throughout my time at DAS they used white rice and spaghetti. Surely this is a manufactured version of the (in my opinion) much tastier, healthier and more natural brown rice and wholewheat spaghetti? The more I thought about it, the more I thought that not eating fruit was also quite a bad idea. La dieta all seemed a little bit arbitrary to me.

We continued to drink the hot ajo sacha, the garlicky taste of which didn't improve. And we plodded back and forth around the camp, but there was rarely anyone around, as there was no common area, although they are planning on building one. Out of boredom, we took the 40 minute walk back to the village (nothing there) and then back to the camp. At 6pm it started to get dark. Reading with a torch is all very well, but when you have holes in your mosquito screens, holes in your mosquito net and no malaria tablets (as you can't take them because of the ayahuasca) and enough bugs, bats, monkeys and God-knows-what-else-flapping, crawling and scurrying outside, it's probably best to go to sleep.

The next day, after wolfing down a cold porridge out of hunger, we heard voices outside and leant out to see Percy and Carol. Carol explained in English that Percy wanted to know whether we had any questions. I got some interesting answers.

Firstly, I told Percy about when I had grabbed and challenged the little girl: Are you real? Percy explained the little girl was me. He explained that the children were a symbol of my child self, which was open to things and not so cynical about the world. I found this interesting, as I always wondered if entities are really just facets of myself..

Secondly I asked Percy about my grandfather and the door I could not get to. I wanted to know how to get to the door. Percy explained that I could not get to the door because I was 'not ready', but that tonight's second experience would be stronger.

After they left we got talking to a friendly Slovenian a couple of huts away who explained he had been at the centre last year for two months. He was back again for another two months, and he said he had been learning Percy's Icaros. He said he had been doing 'the hard diet' - just cold porridge - but his energy levels had dropped so he'd gone back to the same diet we were on. I am not a nutritionist but I am pretty sure that if you try and live off only cold porridge for any duration of time you are going to have problems.

Around lunchtime after another bland lunch of rice, salad and egg off a plastic plate, I started to get diarrheoa. This is most inconvenient when you can only flush with a bucket and you only have half a small bottle of anti-bacterial handwash left between two people. It's also rather embarrassing as my hut-mate could hear every sound emanating from the toilet and vice versa (he had it too). Still at least we were in it together. The acho sacha really wasn't helping, in fact I started to think it was to blame, as every time I drank it, it would kickstart some sort of gurgling drainage exercise in my stomach.

The afternoon passed quickly without incident. My heart skipped no beats, and after the last session I felt confident I would handle the ayahuasca. At the flower bath at 5pm it was much warmer than the previous time, so all the visitors to the center turned up. We all knew each other a bit better this time, so there was a feeling of camaraderie and high expectations for that evening. I was very surprised to learn that my experience had probably been the 'best' out of any of the newcomers. Most of the others had either experienced nothing at all, extreme vomiting or muted visions.

The ceremony was to start one hour earlier at 6, so it was in the half-light that we made our way confidently to the maloka and took our positions (and buckets). Expecting a long wait like before, we settled down on our mattresses and were suprised to see Percy make an unassuming entrance after only about 45 minutes...

Just as before, Percy called us up one by one, and just as before the gulps could be heard across the maloka. When I took my cup, there was a lot more in it, and it took two big gulps to get it down. I actually quite liked the taste, at first. Then the full disgustingness of the stuff enveloped me.

As I sat back on my island-mattress in the pitch dark and positioned my bucket, a thunderstorm started and the rain roared outside.

Tick, tick, tick, whistle. Percy's icaro started, but was hardly audible thanks to the rain. I struggled to keep down the rancid-root-beer ayahuasca. Ten minutes past and a torch went on, someone was off to the toilet. I saw I was the only person sitting up. I concentrated on what I wanted to work on during the ceremony - which was to be a better husband and father.

My second experience
Then it hit me. A huge wave of physical force. My limbs felt heavy, as if I was moving in slow motion. I changed my position. Still no vomit. I felt as if the mattress was spinning. I started to panic. Oh my God, if it was this strong now, what next? I could not sit still, and got agitated. I kept rubbing my face and the top of my head. My stomach felt as though I had swallowed molten lead. Across the room, my Canadian friend did a horrific purge. Screaming at the top of his lungs, gasping for breath. It sounded horrific. Compared to him, I was lucky. Then, as quickly as the feeling had arrived, the force went away. I relaxed. Sorry, visions, I thought, but until I'm sick, I'm not going to let you come.

Finally after about 40 minutes, I went to purge. I wretched twice and two small splashes came out, but not the full amount. Was that going to be it? I suddenly felt much better. I lay down and waited for the visions but they didn't come. I felt completely normal. Percy had also stopped singing. I felt annoyed. Why is there such a big gap?

After about 45 minutes, the visions started to come. Very different in nature to last time. I could not 'see' them easily in the way I could (open or closed-eye) see them the time before. I had to sort of meditate and go into a half-dream like state to view then. I saw the inside of an endless irregular structure, a bit like the inside of many tesselating hollow dodecahedra. The structure was made entirely of twisting ayahuasca vines. I realised I had to concentrate on 'working together with plant' and the visions started to flow. I saw walkways connecting the structures with people on at first, but soon I was taken to still deeper structures and worlds made of the vine. Sometimes the vines were covered in the same zigzag pattern I showed in a picture which I attached to a previous post in this thread. Other times there were zigzag patterned snakes twisting around the vines.

The vines grew towards me and wrapped around my head and a thick beam of light shone into the centre of my forehead. I was shown an arabic-patterned luminous staircase leading up to a plinth. I was shown how to use my 'third eye' to go deeper into the visions and was told that this skill (of sensing with your third eye) is available to use all the time. I was told the world of ayahuasca is always there, if we know how to look for it. I went back to the staircase and I saw Alex-Grey-painting figures ascending the staircase, and, at the top, beams of light shooting forth from their heads. This was a very different feeling to the night before - there was little DMT effect.

Percy was still not singing. Where were the nice Icaros?

Then I had the most incredible experience. People at the nexus don't know (but my friends do) that I am almost completely deaf in one ear, and have been my whole life. Suddenly I was lying there and I yawned and some air escaped from my deaf ear. Suddenly I could hear with both ears! It was unbelievable. The sounds of the room and the jungle outside opened up like an unfolded pop-up book. In front of me, I saw a vision of concentric lines with spokes and, as each bird sang, I saw a radar-like pulse showing me the origin of the sound, something I normally cannot tell. I lay there with a huge grin on my face. This was cool ! Another message came to me from Ayahuasca, 'Anything is possible'. The experience lasted about 20 minutes and was incredible, unforgettable.

The singing had finally resumed and Percy sounded in even better voice than ever. The power of his Icaros was incredible, and brought forth many more visions, but mostly abstract, zig-zag patterned forms. I noticed a creeping feeling from my gut.

I realised I felt sick, really sick. Also, I felt disorientated; so much so that I couldn't get up to feel for my water. I changed position, but the feeling increased. I mentally put the visions and said to myself; no more until I've dealt with this. But the purge didn't come. The naseua and disorientation built in waves. The body load was so strong. I tossed and turned, feeling ill. I started to feel delirious, and couldn't think straight. I could feel my whole body - including my heart - was under strain from this sickness. I thought of my diarrheoa and water loss, the dieta food, my general state of health. I got an answer to my question - how could I be a better husband and father? Don't carry on doing this. I lay there writhing for what felt like hours, then finally made it to the toilet. I forgot my bucket, but luckily there was one there. The purge was toxic. I don't know what the hell was in there but there were lumps of gritty substance coming out. I still didn't get it all out.

I returned to my mattress. I felt so exhausted, I could hardly sit up. I still felt residual naseau. The visions assaulted me from all sides, but I was too tired to countenance them. Go away, I thought, I've had enough. I felt toxic.

Another hour passed. Again, the leaf-rattle and rose water on the head. I slid over to Dave in the dark. How was it? I asked. He had experienced no effect at all.

We returned to the hut, and I told him of my rollercoaster ride experience. Then we fell into a deep sleep.

The next day breakfast woke us up, potato and beetroot. A nice change from the porridge. I felt sore, really beaten up from the previous night. I looked at the ajo sacha and thought - no, I'm not going to stomach that stuff.

Bored, I wandered around the camp, and saw the Slovenian. It transpired he'd been singing most of the icaros last night. In fact, once Percy sang two, the Slovenian took over. I was very surprised. The Slovenian's icaros had been more effective! How could someone who'd spent a couple of months here be better at invoking the visionary experience than a shaman traditionally trained for 25 years? It really made me think about my expectations.

Lunch arrived, more dry boiled rice and salad, and I could not eat half of it. I felt I was rejecting everything. I started to think about all the 'rules' I'd been following. Who was to say these rules were right? Although my experiences had been incredible, they were not as profound as some change experiences I have had previously, without all the pomp and ceremony.

I weighed up the poor hygeine, poor diet, my dehydration due to diarrheoa, the sickness and my heart risks against the positives of the ayahuasca experience in DAS. I wanted to act to be better to my family, and the answer was obvious. It just wasn't worth continuing. The risk may have been low, but the impact of something happening was been too high. Put simply, I wouldn't have stood a fraction of the chance I would have having heart issues in a major city.

The next day, Carol kindly accompanied me back to Iquitos. She advised me: no pork for a month, no alcohol, no spicy food. I knew that it was 36-48 hours on from my experience so within that day I'd broken all of those rules, sinking a big beer and eating spicy pizza. Yum. (Yes probably not great for ones heart - but I'm back in the city).

***
I'd like to say a few words about what I learned here. I hope no-one gets upset - this is just my opinion.

My experiences were profound, and would have been life changing, if it was not for changa, mushrooms and other entheogens, which already showed me very similar places, and given me similar messages. To me, changa may be disorientating, but it offers very quick access to very deep experiences. In a sense, although built on old traditions, it is an excellent modern spin on them. In fact, I feel that if suitable solvents had been available to the people of the Amazon, they would have developed and used changa too, after all, they smoke mapacho. Mushrooms, too, can take you to similar places, for me without any nauseau and little abstinence. To my mind they are far safer, with a lighter body load.

My hearing experience was unique and incredible, and made the trip worth while. I really don't know what to make of it, I am not completely sure I was not deluding myself in some way, but it felt pretty real.

I came here looking for confirmation of the spiritual side of Ayahuasca, but I also came here as someone with a backpack full of books on biochemistry. And I do think there is a spiritual side to ayahuasca, possibly more so than with other entheogens, I am just not sure. I have realised that I wanted to be bowled over, wanted to have an experience which would give me 'faith' in some way.

But the truth is, my scientific side does no want to let go. And I am happy with that. Percy and Carol were lovely people doing a good job, but that doesn't mean they or anyone else has a monopoly on approaching and interpreting the psychedelic experience. The others who went to the centre, so for healing, good luck to them. They want to believe, they have faith, and maybe that what invites ayahuasca fully into their bodies, or maybe it's the placebo effect. For me, I really didn't feel any kind of mental or physical healing. The diet I could understand, and there is a lot to be said for making sacrifices as part of one's psychedelic ritual. But not eating pork for a month after? To me, it's starting to sound like the germ of a 'thou shalt not...' dogma.

I found the DAS centre generally very boring when aya wasn't looming. I am disappointed with myself about this. I guess I am just a city person. I want my laptop, my interesting food, my constant experiential satiation. I think for 100 dollars a day, outside of all the spirituality, they are happy to take the (non-spiritual) money, so the centre can be looked at on that same level (eg. they charge more than most hotels here). DAS was a lovely place, which I would highly recommend, but it wasn't perfect. Percy and Carol never actually asked us if we were taking prescription drugs. There was no apparent contingency in the event of something going wrong. The meals could have been so much better, while still sticking to la dieta. There were hardly any activities in my time there at all when these could have been easily and cheaply arranged (eg painting classes or similar). Perhaps most importantly, there was no communal space.

Having said all that, I did enjoy my time there, and I am so glad I came. I put ayahuasca on the revered shelf with mushrooms, changa and cacti, as allowing profound experiences. But next time I probably won't travel half way around the world to do it.

So, my lesson: the ayahuasca told me 'anything is possible' and I've realised that it is. It's possible to access the deepest spiritual realms on your own terms, in your own environment. You don't have to throw science or anything else out of the window and suddenly start believing that ayahuasca is going to heal your broken leg - unless, of course, that's what you want to believe. Each to their own. For me, cities, technology, culture are all part of this life I am lucky to have, and the modern, empirical stance of the dmt-nexus is where my head is at.

I deeply respect the shamanic tradition and all the gifts we have got from this part of the world and I will cherry-pick the bits that worked for me (abstinence before, icaros, shipibo textiles, smudging) and continue developing my own rituals that fit snugly into my background, beliefs and culture. Spiritual enlightment escaped me here; my real pilgrimage is back home, to continue the journey.

An amazing read brother.

I plan to go to Peru one day and experience ayahuasca to the fullest even though i've already had a pretty heavy experience a few months back. I know alot of people tend to say.."Why travel to the amazon to take ayahuasca when you can just take it in the comforts of your own abode?", but I disagree in that respect. Everything you've written solidifies my thoughts and feelings ten-fold. To go there for the EXPERIENCE..to get OUT of your comfort zone. I have a feeling that would GREATLY alter the whole experience. Sure..some of the same modalities and common undertones that most experience, but I have a feeling it would be deeply rewarding...especially in the guise of a trusted shaman. Keep it coming bro

Thanks so much DMTtripn2Space. I suspect you may have not seen my final post, which says, for me, I didn't get quite what I was looking for here. But I did get a lot.

I hope I've phrased it right, as my intention is NOT to put anyone off making the journey to South America for one's self. We are all different, and I suspect other people may have a completely different experience. You just have to come here and give it a try

^^ Haha, yeah..I was just finishing typing and posting when you had just finished that.

But you are very right on that note. You DON'T have to travel half way around the world to experience something as portentous as DMT..or ayahuasca for that matter. Still though..like I said...going there for the "experience"..the trip from front to back... jungle, monkeys n' all.

Great read man.

I hate to bring a negative voice, when i read your story, it seems to me your attitude may have held you back from experiencing the full potential of the experience.

That said, it was a very well written report, and i thoroughly enjoyed it! Some valuable lessons as well about keeping expectations in check, and also how no one person or culture has a complete understading or monopoly over the experience, but it is something we can access (perhaps in a different way) within our own contexts.

Peace brother, and wonderful report.

Thanks Harmalosa. I agree with your comments - that my attitude may have held me back. I am basically a science/mysticism fence sitter, and this trip has just (self-)reinforced that, rather than pushing me off the fence as I hoped!

Majapanix-excellent, engaging write-up.Many thanks for sharing your experiences with us all.

Assuming he hasnt,I really do wonder what Percy would have to say if he were to try a few bongs of some changa made with caapi x11 leaf and full spectrum alkaloids.