My Ayahuasca Experiences

For information on where to try Ayahuasca in Pucallpa, click here.
My experiences with Ayahuasca varied but not to the extent that my wife Jun´s did. Her very first time and her first time with a second curandero, Jun exhausted superlatives in her attempt to capture how wonderful she had felt. In contrast, her last three nights were not so positive and the penultimate one was especially bad, so much so that she requested the help of Don Marçial to help her get through her bad trip. This seemed to be largely due to fear resulting from a lack of physical strength. The brew overwhelmed her.

It has been said that using words to try to describe the ayahuasca experience is an exercise in futility. My worry is more related to the fact that listening to other people describe a dream they had can be painfully tedious. I will try to avoid that fate by remaining general.

My encounters ranged from feeling nothing to undergoing a mammoth horror show, which, however, I would not describe as a bad trip because at no point was I afraid or paranoid. On the whole, the adventures consisted in large part of random memories plucked from the depths of my unconscious mind and served up for my consideration; the vast majority of these were negative: incidents of violence, bullying and maltreatment that I had inflicted or suffered.

Beyond this – especially when I increased my dose on my third night with Don Marçial – the episodes included scenes of imagined horror which could have been from a film like “Hostel” or “Saw” and hypothetical dangerous or threatening situations that challenged my ability to respond. If this all sounds gruesome, I am afraid that is because it was. The fact is though that I was never “lost” to the extent that I had no control over the reels playing through my mind.

Whilst there were a few recalled memories that brought a smile to my face, the main positive I got from my experimentation was confirmation of my successful transition from child bully and coward to the man I am today. I am aware that this may seem a modest achievement but IMHO, in a very un-Peter Pan way, many people never manage to grow up.

Ayahuasca in Pucallpa, Peru

Neither Jun nor I had heard of the plant ayahuasca a year ago. Hitchhiking out of Futaleufu, Chile, in mid-February we were given a lift by a fisherman who was taking Patrick – a U.S. citizen – through the Andes and over the border into Argentina. In the course of the journey, Patrick mentioned its curative properties and Jun asked him to write its (hispanicized Quechua) name down. (The plant has other monikers – most notably “yagé” as in “The yagé letters”: the correspondence between William Burroughs and Alan Ginsberg that was made into a book.)
Since then Jun has spent hours reading testimonies and papers on the medicine and even gone so far as to suggest that it has become the reason for our round-the-world trip. A trip to Iquitos to try it became a “must do”. I have been less awed by the hype but willing to experiment, as ever. In Cuzco I talked to several people who had partaken of the ceremony and one who claimed to have seen her future. I was also told by one guy I got chatting to that Pucallpa is the emerging location for shamans. 
The “ayahuasca” of the ritual is usually a “tea” prepared with two plants: the B. caapi vine that bears its name and chacruna. The result is a concoction that doesn´t entice in smell or taste but that bears psychoactive properties incomparable to any others known; there are those who swear by its curative capacity too. We came to Pucallpa, on the fringes of the Amazon jungle and seved by one of the great river´s tributaries, to experience it for ourselves. Iquitos – we figure – is just too touristy and commercial for discerning cultural appropriators like us. 
Having done some research on the net, we already had our eye on Don Marçial at km26 and caught a collectivo there but my first glance at the conditions – Jun had been considering a prolonged stay on a special diet – told me they were too “rustic” for my posh-bird wife and we left with a vague (and dishonest) suggestion that we might return a few days later. The next day though – after stopping off at not-for-us Jardín Botánico Ayahuasca (near the airport, they have good maps on their Jardín Botánico FB page) – we had two encounters with people that led to opportunities and were sitting in a darkened room the very same night with a handful of locals and no other gringos.

That was arranged through Miguel Tang. We met him at Yarinacocha when looking for a boat trip on the laguna. We did that (and saw Jardín Botánico´s lakeside retreat) and he mentioned that we could do a ceremony for 50 soles each, a very reasonable price. Miguel – who is also known as “Pituco”, after his boat - is also mentioned in our Lonely Planet guide book so we knew we could trust him.  Contact him on 961928694. 
Since we knew the process involved “purging” (vomiting is usual, shitting a distinct possibility) and had heard of one guy soiling himself three times during an evening´s experimentation, there was an element of trepidation involved in our first encounter. When the ceremony began, Alejandro, our “strong” shaman, blessed the concoction (there were syncretic Christian elements throughout the event) took the first drink and I was the second to receive it. Agua de Florida was given as hard-to-swallow chaser. Jun was second and had purged within about twenty minutes and began a journey that she was to describe as the best of her life. Sitting in the dark, I had trouble getting comfortable and relaxing into receiving the “spirit” of the plant. I spent the best part of three hours yawning. Finally I got up to go the toilet and was surprised by how disoriented my body was. I subsequently purged from both ends but saw nothing.

Four nights later – after a jungle excursion - we tried again. This time I took a follow-up swig and received shallow visions and experienced some feelings of insignificance and self-criticism. My trip, however, was over within an hour of imbibing for the second time. The next day we bought some prepared ayawaska (the preferred Quechua spelling) and tried it on three consecutive nights without a shaman. Nothing to report, unfortunately.
Finally, we made the decision to go back to Don Marçial (061788754) at km26 and phoned him to arrange it. We then spent four consecutive evenings there (coming back to town in the morning to rest at our hotel) and – especially on the third night, when I increased my dose by 50% - I finally felt the concoction overtake me. Click here to read my description of my dark but rewarding journey.