

SHAMANS AND HEALERS

The Untold Ayahuasca Story  
from a Shaman's Apprentice

Andrew Osta

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Copyright © 2010-2011 Andrew Osta

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Book design by Andrew Osta and Johan Fremin Paintings by Andrew Osta Back cover photos by Gordon Fry

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Second Printing: USA, February 2011

ISBN 978-0-9866940-2-8
To All Lovers,  
Truth Seekers,  
Whose Path is Dedicated  
to Kindness and Goodness,  
and Whose Hearts are Innocent.

May Laughter,  
Beauty, Gentleness,  
Trust, Patience,  
Joy, Wisdom,  
& God's Infinite Grace,  
Love and Peace  
Be Ever With You!

E
Contents

Acknowledgements ....................................................................1  
A Biographical Note ....................................................................2

1. Unexpected Events in Iquitos, Peru .................................... 9

2. Conversations with the Real Don Juan ..... ....................... 23

3. A Close Encounter with Death ..... ......................................37

4. International Shamanism Conference ........................49

5. Becoming a Shaman's Apprentice ..................................... 63

6. Deep Down the Rabbit Hole .............................................. 73

7. Love versus the Spirits........................................................ 99

8. Spirit World versus Real World...................................... 113

9. Doubting Everything ......................................................... 127

10. Two Roads........................................................................... 139

11. On the Border of No Return............................................ 149

12. Alone in the Jungle............................................................ 163

13. Final Weeks in Peru.......................................................... 173

14. Madness and Miracles in Mexico .................................. 187

15. Ceremonies and Indigenous Grandmothers.............. 201

16. Christian Healing and Liberation.................................. 217

Conclusion..................................................................................243

Appendices

1. The Self Liberation Method.............................................. 249

2. The Myth of Javier DaSilva .............................................. 253

Photos..........................................................................................260
Acknowledgements

My heartfelt thanks goes out to all who have assisted me during this journey. Above all, I thank God for the guidance and inspiration along the way, for all of the gifts He gave me, and for His unending love. I am only now beginning to realize how much grace I received, and I am deeply grateful.

I am thankful to Javier DaSilva for allowing me to live in his house, where I could observe his life and work. I am equally grateful to Juan Chotta, Don Juan Tangoa, Ron, and all of the other healers mentioned in this book. It is difficult to believe how many incredible prophets and healers blessed me and prayed for me during the past year. I am very grateful for your support!

A huge, heart-felt "gracias" to Jose and Ela from El Refugio, for the fantastic work they do. The things I saw, felt and learned while in the company of these two very special people really changed my life.

Ninfa, thank you for your love - I felt it half the world away. I'd be lost if not for you. Isaura, thank you for accepting me like one of your own children and for all of your prayers! I am now fully convinced they worked.

Thanks to my family for their unchanging love and support. And to all of my friends around the world. This book would not have been possible without your help!

Much Love, Many Blessings!

Andrew Osta, Toronto, 2011

"Self Portrait with Ninfa" (Ukraine, 2009)

A Biographical Note

I WAS born in Kiev, Ukraine in the summer of 1982. My childhood was for the most part very ordinary. I spent a lot of my time in nature, got into numerous fights, and had many accidents, all of which were the result of my own clumsiness and inattentiveness. The most severe of these accidents resulted in 26 stitches and a week-long hospital stay.

Both of my mother's parents were doctors, and were artistically inclined. My grandfather was a homeopath, a hypnotherapist and a dietician, as well as a registered physician. The funny thing about him was that he stubbornly refused to take pills, shots, or any other synthetic medicines, no matter how sick he got. He was a doctor with no faith in western medicine and spent much of his time lecturing about the dangers of refined sugar and white flour.

My mother's great grandfather was a Russian Orthodox Christian priest. He was shot and killed by the communists during the 1918 revolution, along with his wife and 10 of his 12 children. My mother's grandmother survived by virtue of being a tiny baby at the time - the revolutionaries did not see her. Nobody else in my immediate family was religious or spiritually oriented.

My father's parents were both engineers, and their parents were farmers. When I was eleven, my parents decided to immigrate to Canada, and this early experience of international travel probably inspired some of my later adventures. For a few years following my arrival in Canada, I was huge materialist. Faced with such an unbelievable excess of material goods, I spent most of my time devising ways to make money.

Once I learned English, I became an avid reader, especially of fringe literature. For whatever reason, I was attracted to everything that was outside of the mainstream. I became interested in magick by the age of 13, and in various New Age practices after that. By the age of 18, I had done a lot of research on plant medicines and had my first entheogenic experience, inspired by John Lennon and Timothy Leary. I continued to research consciousness-altering plants and spirituality for the next 10 years.

Although I had no idea what I wanted to do, my parents sent me off to the University of Toronto. My formal studies of computer science and philosophy did not particularly interest me. It only took me two months to realize that I would not be programming software for a living. Soon, I also became completely disillusioned by the meaningless, merely intellectual bickering of western philosophers. They never seemed to reach any clear conclusions!

I completed each year of my studies in the top ten percentile of students, but most of my time was spent studying books on topics that actually interested me. Those topics were: eastern spirituality, healing, plants, psychedelics, meditation, yoga, astrology, music and consciousness. In less than 5 years, I read over 200 books, familiarizing myself with most of the major religions and spiritual traditions of the world. I also spent a lot of time in meditation and met with a number of important and powerful gurus.

Due to all of my spiritual practices, I experienced kundalini1 awakening when I was about 20. The first time it happened, I saw my life flash before my eyes in great detail, like an extremely vivid, quickly moving slideshow. At the same time, intense heat rose up my spine, accompanied by a buzzing sound. It felt like a bolt of electricity went up my spine and drilled into my head. The feeling was not exactly pleasant. While this happened, I stopped breathing and did not feel any necessity for oxygen. This experience would repeat hundreds of times during the next few years.

Yet contrary to what I read in spiritual books, kundalini awakening did not fundamentally change me in any way. At least not to my knowledge.

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In 2001, I discovered the wonderful salvia divinorum2 plant, which I quickly abandoned after a few bizarre experiences. Four years later, feeling lonely, bored and depressed, I purchased salvia extract, hoping for relief. This led to about 2 years of experimentation with small but frequent doses of the plant. Salvia taught me how to express my feelings through drawing. Without any previous artistic experience, I was suddenly able to create beautiful and intelligent drawings and paintings. In this way, after graduating with majors in computer science and philosophy, I decided to become a painter.

All of my art up to April 2007 was created while chewing salvia divinorum. Chewing the leaves as I painted allowed me to access the innermost depths of my subconscious mind and was highly therapeutic.

Consciously, I had no idea what I was drawing or what the finished product would look like. Yet not once did I draw something that needed to be fixed or thrown in the trash. Everything I created had artistic value - this was confirmed by several established artists, who encouraged me to continue.

In April of 2007, I moved to South Korea, where I taught English and art in a private school. There, I painted for a year without the aid of any consciousness altering plants. When I returned to Canada in April of 2008, I knew that my work with salvia was finished. I no longer needed to work with the plant in order to make great art - on the contrary, it became an obstacle. At the same time, I began to feel drawn to Peru, wanting to experience another powerful plant in its native environment. I became interested in ayahuasca.3

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I first visited Iquitos, Peru in the summer of 2008. At that time, the airport in Iquitos consisted of a bathroom and a large main room where the baggage was eventually brought. There was no security and no checking out. I just took my bags, walked out into the street, and took a three-wheeled motorcycle driven carriage to the house of the legendary Alan Shoemaker, my contact in Iquitos.

"You like ayahuasca?" asked the driver, almost before I got in.

"Yes," I replied, smiling. Wrong answer. Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting inside an ayahuasca tourism agency, flipping through a catalog. A Peruvian lady just out of the shower was watching me intently.

"Want to go to the jungle?" she asked. "It's only $1200 for ten days!"

It turned out that the driver dropped me off at a completely different location in hopes of making some commission money.

"I already have my retreat booked," I explained in broken Spanish. "Get me put of here!"

We drove back towards the airport, and in another 15 minutes, I was dropped off at Alan's front door. Alan was talkative and full of stories. We spent the entire afternoon talking in a pool-side restaurant. He was drinking whiskey like water and telling me about his wild experiences.

"How many times did you drink ayahuasca, Alan?" I asked, curious.

"I stopped counting after 500 times," he chucked. "But I don't drink anymore, because it's always the same now. I just see my family and how I could be a better father to my children..."

My enthusiasm about shamanism must have been obvious, because Alan decided to warn me. "Shamans are not saints," he said. "You have probably done more personal work on yourself than any of them will ever do. Have no illusions, drinking ayahuasca will not make you enlightened."

I chose to ignore those words, secretly hoping that he was wrong.

Next morning, Alan introduced me to shaman Percy Garcia. Percy was only a few years older than me. His clothes, sneakers and hat were all name brands, making him look more like one of the popular college kids than a shaman. Percy was not very talkative and kept his distance, but I was excited to have my first authentic experience with ayahuasca in a jungle setting.

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During my first ceremony with Percy, I found out why I came to Peru. I thought that I had come to learn, but I actually came to be healed. That first night, my suppressed feelings came to the surface and I realized that I had been depressed for about six months without even knowing it. I saw that I was still extremely attached to my Korean ex-girlfriend, and that this unhealthy attachment was literally draining the life out of me.

After the ceremony ended, I went back to my little wooden hut in the middle of the jungle. Lying there in my hammock, I had a vision of my ex-girlfriend and suddenly became aware of all the darkness that surrounded our relationship. We had been getting together to do nothing more than drink alcohol and have sex. We told each other "I love you" infinite times, yet I knew that I would not marry her. She had a boyfriend, yet she cheated on him with me.

Suddenly, the girl shapeshifted into snake. A feeling of intense disgust overtook me and I barely had time to lift my head when my stomach churned and a torrent of vomit came out, spilling all over the floor. I got a bucket of water and started cleaning up. Another vision of my ex-girlfriend and our immoral relationship came up.

Again, I could not help but purge. It seemed that my negative thoughts and emotions were becoming converted into matter! Whenever I had a negative thought, I had to run to the toilet.

Sitting in the bathroom, with a notebook in my hand, I wrote down everything I wanted gone from my life on a sheet of paper and set it aflame. All around me, night birds and crickets sang their songs. Once in a while, I seemed to hear the distant roar of a jaguar, which both exhilarated and frightened me. That night, my sadness and attachment disappeared. There were no thoughts of the past in my mind, and it felt good.

I was ready to go home after that first night, but continued drinking with Percy three times a week for another 14 days, having already paid in advance. Some nights, when Percy went to town, I drank his ayahuasca by myself, with his permission. As a result of this experiment, I discovered that the effects I experienced from drinking Percy's ayahuasca alone were at best a quarter as strong as when I drank it under his guidance in ceremony. Eventually, I gave up drinking alone because it only made me tired.

During my second week of retreat, I decided to take a trip out to town. Percy said that it would be better for me to stay at the center, but I did not take his advice very seriously. I didn't understand the reason for his caution. I went to the city and came into contact with all kinds of people. My energetic field was so open that I could feel all of their darkness entering into me. Anger emanated from one person, lust from another, greed from the third.

As a result of that day trip, I lost my peace of mind and came back to the center filled with negative energies. For the first time, I was unable to sleep, spending the night struggling with inner darkness. This negative phase continued until the end of my stay, getting increasingly more difficult. Every remedy I tried was ineffective, and I felt worse with each coming day.

This difficult experience came to a climax one night during ceremony, when a sharp pain appeared in my stomach, growing worse as the night progressed. I hoped that the discomfort would pass, but the pain grew so strong that I became frightened for my well being. Knowing that something was seriously wrong, I had no other choice but to get out of bed and wake up Percy. "I need help," I told him in broken Spanish. "Pain in my stomach..."

Percy led me to the ceremonial hut and had me lie down. There, he lifted my shirt, placed his lips near my belly button, and began to suck something out. This continued for several long minutes. When we began, my stomach was bloated, but by the time Percy finished, it returned to normal. Finishing the extraction, Percy spit something into a bucket with great disgust.

"Did everything come out?" I asked.

"Not everything, but I can't do anymore work today," he answered. "I'm very tired. I will continue tomorrow."

I thanked him and went back to my hut. Most of the pain was gone and I was finally able to sleep.

In the morning, I spoke with Percy's assistant, Carlos.

"Percy says that you have pulsario," Carlos told me. "It is a buildup of negative energies that you have collected over a number of years. These energies are old, maybe between 5 and 10 years old. You must have felt a lot of anger and other negative emotions when you were younger... "People in the west don't know anything about pulsario. But from the shamanic perspective, it is responsible for many illnesses, including cancer.

When people don't take care of their emotions, the negative energy builds up inside the body and eventually bursts like a balloon, spreading everywhere. While the pulsario is small, it is relatively easy to deal with, but once it bursts, it is almost impossible to help the person."

Percy was too occupied with other things to do any more work on my pulsario. Still, after his extraction, I slowly recovered my emotional wellbeing. When it was time to return to Canada, I knew that I would visit Peru again very soon. I could not get the experiences I had out of my mind.

In Canada, I had a promising career in art therapy. I worked with refugee children and youth, helping them relieve stress and get through their traumas using art. As much as I liked the job, I felt that the help I was offering was very limited. I wanted to be able to do something more than just touch the surface of the problem. It was a very difficult decision, but I decided to submit my resignation in order to study shamanic healing in Peru.

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As 2008 came to an end, I celebrated New Years Eve quietly and alone. That fateful evening, while walking outside and smoking Peruvian tobacco, I received a very clear message.

"You need to study Spanish to be ready for the trip to Peru. You should post an ad looking for a language exchange partner on the Craigslist website."

That week, I posted an ad and thought nothing more of it.

Ninfa was the first to respond. She wrote in all capitals, and the energy communicated by her style, along with her unusual name, interested me very much. When she finally called me, the sound of her voice made me want to meet her. This was at a time when I was very reclusive, preferring to spend most of my time alone. I felt that people only drained me of energy, but Ninfa immediately felt different.

That day, we went out for a cup of tea at a cafe where I was showing my paintings. Ninfa offered me her cheek to kiss when we met. This was the traditional Mexican way. She talked rapidly and without stopping, mostly in Spanish.

We met two more times over the following weeks, and immediately felt like old friends. During our third meeting, we watched a movie together at my apartment. That night, she came into my dreams. "I am going to sleep over next time," she told me, communicating psychically. When I awoke, I felt a strange and unusual combination of fear and exhilaration. "Am I falling in love with this girl?" I wondered. "Could it be possible?"

We watched another movie several days later, once again having a great time. Then, Ninfa said she had to go, and I checked the bus schedule. Surprisingly, the buses were no longer running because it was Sunday.

"Oh really? Then I will call my aunt to pick me up," she offered, dialing the number. She talked for a few minutes in Spanish, while I practiced my Spanish comprehension skills.

"My aunt is working," she finally informed me. "She can't come. I'm going to have to take a taxi..."

"You can stay over if you like," I suggested. "I have a big bed."

"It's no problem for you?" she asked.

"No problem at all!"

After we said good night, I felt like there was an invisible wall separating us. Ninfa was lying next to me, but I could not reach out and touch her! My mind kept going over the situation. I thought about my dream, then remembered a certain look she gave me, then a certain thing she said. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach over and hug her, but I could not! I imagined what kissing her would feel like. My heart was beating fast.

"Ninfa, are you sleeping?" I finally broke the silence. "No, I can't sleep," came the reply. I described my dream, then the way I was feeling. "Really? I feel the same way too," she whispered. Slowly, I reached over that invisible wall and touched her body. Kissing her felt much better than I had imagined. Her lips were so soft and full.

"Do you want to do anything more than just kissing?" I asked after a while.

"No. Not tonight," she answered. We said good night for the second time, and I closed my eyes, this time holding her close to me.

"Actually, I do," she suddenly said, taking me by complete surprise.

Soon, our relationship was as comfortable and beautiful as relationships can get. The beauty continued increasing with every coming week. Soon, we were virtually living together, and everything was absolutely perfect.

Ninfa was the first person with whom I could spend all day and all night without feeling the need to get away and be alone. It felt like we had been together forever and I was ready to spend the rest of my life with her. But the time to go to Peru came much too quickly and I had to leave my newly found love behind.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I will be waiting for you in Peru. Come and join me as soon as you can!"

"I had a dream about us," Ninfa confessed. "In the dream, I was a princess and you were a shaman, and because of that, our love was impossible."

"Don't be silly," I answered, paying no attention. "Nothing is impossible!"

She accompanied me to the airport with tears in her eyes.
 Chapter 1

Unexpected Events in Iquitos, Peru

I ARRIVED in Iquitos a month prior to the start of Alan Shoemaker's annual International Shamanism Conference, at which I was scheduled to speak and display my paintings. My return ticket was for seven months later. Other than presenting at the conference, I had no definite plans for my immediate future. I only hoped to find a good shaman and study with him.

The heat, humidity, and noise of Iquitos hit me full force as I rode in the three wheeled moto-taxi. There were no glass windows to shield me from the outside. It felt like some kind of a metaphor of the times to come.

Alan had invited me to stay at his new house, which looked like a four star resort, complete with palm trees and a big swimming pool. When I arrived, Mr. Shoemaker wasn't home. I was welcomed inside by an aging Australian woman. "Since coming to Peru, this woman lost about 60 pounds and looks much younger," Alan later told me.

Once I put away my things, I joined the Australian woman on the patio by the pool. She was chain smoking cigarettes and playing with her two baby monkeys. One of the monkeys had apparently chewed on a branch of the toxic chiric sanango4 tree, and was now in a semi-comatose state.

"This poor monkey had been tripping for about 54 hours now," laughed the woman. It's probably going to evolve into another species!" "Or become a shaman and start healing other monkeys now!" I joked.

My plan that night was to have a ceremony with Percy Garcia, but Alan called and said that Percy wasn't feeling well and his ceremony had been canceled. Instead, I could go see a Brazilian medium, Javier DaSilva. "You should go. He is really fascinating," the Australian woman told me.

"Sometimes people are brought to the ceremony in wheelchairs and later walk out without help. He also sometimes takes out his invisible sword and fights with the spirits! And he takes on other personalities, speaking like a woman or like an old man. It doesn't happen very often, but you might get the chance to see something if you're lucky."

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When I arrived at Javier's house, about 40 people were already there. Everyone was local, except for myself and a big man from Sweden. Only about 10 people would actually drink ayahuasca. The rest just came in for healing.

Those drinking sat near Javier in one room, while the others waited in the hall. Packs of cigarettes were sold, then collected together and distributed to each of the people drinking ayahuasca. Javier explained that smoking tobacco served as protection from negative energies.

After we drank the ayahuasca, Javier opened the ceremony with a prayer. Then, he started to whistle and sing complex and fast paced melodies. Once the ayahuasca started working, my perception of sound improved and the melodies became breathtakingly beautiful. Several of Javier's apprentices whistled and sang in harmony. Overall, it was an otherworldly experience.

The first visions I had were of traditional Shipibo patterns. One that I remember most vividly had a cross in the middle. I also saw stars, cosmos and something resembling flying saucers. I was immersed in these visions for some time. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, I picked up the bucket at my feet and expelled approximately two tablespoons of something into it. Following the purge, feelings of love enveloped my entire being and I sent love to all of my family and to Ninfa.

I realized that nothing good can ever come from bad thoughts or feelings.

"All evil begins with evil thoughts!" It was so obvious, yet so easy to forget.

With this realization, I dropped whatever grudges I held and forgave everyone against whom I had any kind of sour feelings, sending them all love. A lot of the time, I thought about Ninfa, feeling completely united with her.

The foreigner who accompanied me had a very difficult time. He left the ceremonial space early on and remained in the bathroom for several hours.

Many people attempted to bring him back, but nothing came of it. When I went to use the bathroom, he got up from the toilet and immediately collapsed on the floor outside the bathroom, where he remained for about an hour. From what Javier was saying, I understood that an evil spirit was preventing the man from returning to the main room.

People in need of healing came up to Javier one by one. For each person a song was sung, probably lasting about 5 minutes on average. Then, Javier conversed with the person in front of him, telling them what was wrong, why they were suffering, and how he would help them.

"Go home and sleep," he said to a young male patient. "I will come to you in your dream. You're going to see an old man. That's me. Don't be afraid. Go home and I will come to you tonight. Tomorrow, you will be better." To others, Javier gave different advice:

"Your operation will be on Monday. You must spend Tuesday in bed." "You must have a liver transplant. Your operation will be on Thursday." "You are an evil person. Go out and clean your heart and your mind!" "You drink ayahuasca with sorcerers. Who are you in love with? Leave him. Forget him. He will only bring you more evil and more harm."

I later found out that when he spoke of operations and transplants, Javier was speaking about operations on the astral body. Although these procedures are performed spiritually, they apparently have real physical effects. "After a time, whatever is done with the astral body begins to reflect in the physical body, like in a mirror," Javier explained.

Eventually, Javier went outside to help the other foreigner, who was still on the floor near the bathroom. I followed and sat beside them, watching.

"Your ex-wife paid 3 or 4 thousand dollars to a very strong sorcerer in India to kill you and your new wive," said Javier. "That sorcerer sent two spirits to harm your body. Be quiet everyone, I want to speak with the spirits!"

Everyone hushed down.

"Who are you? Who sent you? Why are you making this poor man suffer? Leave my house! Why don't you come into the temple? Why don't you come into the main room? What are you doing hiding here in the back?"

Javier was having a long conversation with invisible spirits.

Suddenly, suffering from an invisible blow, he moaned in pain and doubled over. His breathing became labored, and he opened his arms wide.

"What was that, devil serpent? You can't kill me! I am stronger than you. Now get out of here before I kill you."

Javier gasped, then cleared his throat. His voice had changed to that of a woman.

"Should I kill these evil spirits?" asked the female voice.

"No..." responded the foreigner. "Don't kill them... Don't kill anybody..."

The female spirit inside Javier then began to reason with the offending spirits, asking them to go away. I was amazed at what I was seeing.

"Now you will hear the song of a mermaid," said the female voice. With a soft feminine voice full of vibrato, in subtle and beautiful tones, Javier sang an otherworldly song. That song sounded like it belonged to a woman who was destined to be forever alone. It was filled with sadness and beauty, which were greatly amplified by the effects of the ayahuasca.

When the song was over, Javier declared that one of the spirits had left. He then pressed his lips against the sick man's head and began to suck out his illness. Holding his mouth shut with both hands, he continued sucking, trying hard not to vomit. Finally, he produced a sound of great disgust, moved away from the foreigner, and projectile vomited a bucket of liquid all over the floor. Then, still gasping, he gulped down about a liter of water from a huge container which somebody readily handed him.

A few minutes earlier, the sick man was incomprehensible, babbling and mumbling to himself. Now, he could actually speak. He thanked Javier and moved himself into a sitting position. Then, Javier put him on a mat to rest and we returned to the main room.

People continued to come up for healing for another three hours. A group of latecomers came knocking on the front door and Javier yelled at them. "Who opened the door? If you are late, you cannot come in!"

Once all of the sick people were served, Javier gave audience to those of us who drank ayahuasca. He sang me a prayer about Christ, during which I clearly saw a vision of the cross with Jesus on it.

"You have something bad in your stomach," I was told after the song was over. "You are a good person, but this thing is causing you bad luck. Somebody's bad intentions are making your life difficult. Clear this thing, and everything will get better!"

"I'm aware of the problem in my stomach," I said. "I have pulsario. Last year, Percy Garcia took some of it out, but he could not remove everything."

"Percy can't take it out!" laughed Javier. "He doesn't have the power!"

I was then told that it would cost 100 dollars to clean up my stomach, and we made an appointment to get it done. When I came home that night, a quartz crystal given to me by Percy fell off my neck, having untied itself after being in place for nearly a year. It felt like Percy had withdrawn his support from me. I decided to not put the necklace back on.

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Next evening, a guy in his 20's and a girl in her early 30's came over to visit Alan. They had just returned from a trip down the river, and the girl's legs were all swollen with mosquito bites. The visitors sat around the table with Alan, drinking rum and coke and discussing shamanism, ayahuasca, and personal experiences. I came up and asked Alan if he could recommend me any healers who were not in shamanism for the money.

"You don't need a shaman, you can cook your own medicine," answered Alan, evading my question. "I don't say this to everyone, because I make money from them too, but you can do it. You don't need to keep any diet, or follow any rules that you don't understand. I want to see people drinking ayahuasca all over the world, becoming their own shamans, and holding their own ceremonies. And don't bother about the rituals. It's superstition. I intentionally broke every traditional rule just to see what would happen... Nothing ever happened!"

I listened, but could not agree. I had come to Peru to learn from the masters.

If I wanted to drink by myself, I could have just as easily stayed home. "There is so much to learn from the elders," I thought. "There are traditional ways of drinking ayahuasca. To dismiss all of the songs, diets and rituals would be to lose a lot."

I tried asking Alan about the traditional ways of using ayahuasca, but he was not at all interested in traditions. "It's just a bunch of bullshit," he insisted. The visitors nodded their heads in agreement.

"We are going to go to Alan's jungle property and drink there," they told me. "You should come with us!"

The night was hot and humid, and everyone was intoxicated with alcohol. "Let's go swimming," the girl suddenly offered. "It's gorgeous out there and the moon is full!" Nobody seemed excited enough to get up.

"I'm going by myself then," concluded the girl. Taking off her clothes piece by piece, she stood in the moonlight, a few feet away from us. She had no bathing suit and entered the swimming pool nude.

I joined her a few minutes later. We swam under the gorgeous full moon that was only visible from the pool. The girl danced in the water like some kind of mermaid, probably trying to seduce me.

When she got out, there were no towels anywhere, and Alan did not express the slightest desire of looking for one.

The three of us sat and stared at the nude girl. "Isn't anyone going to bring me a towel?" she asked. Alan could not refrain from commenting. "Que bonita! Que linda! Isn't she beautiful?" In that moonlight she was.

That night, as we were saying goodbye, she came in for a hug and tried to kiss me on the lips. I quickly turned my head and she only got my cheek. The air was restless with excitement, and I couldn't help remembering Ninfa.

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In my dreams, I saw Percy Garcia. "I am planning to drink ayahuasca alone at Alan's property," I told him. "I don't think you need that," he answered. "You can come and stay for a week at my center instead."

Then, I heard screaming, and together with Percy went inside a house to see what was happening.

Something dangerous was coming. Percy took my hand and hid me under a table, while himself hiding underneath another one. The dream obviously indicated danger, but I thought nothing of it. When I awoke in the morning, Percy Garcia was chatting with Alan in the

next room.

"Yes, you can come to my center," he said after I told him about the dream. "You can stay for two weeks, if you want."

Later that day, I went to my appointment with Javier. The waiting room was filled with local people, all of them waiting to be healed. I felt the energy of the place as soon as I stepped in. Yet something inside me felt uneasy.

"It's hot here, and I am the only foreigner," I reasoned. "The locals are paying with packs of cigarettes, but I have to pay 100 dollars. It's not fair! With that money, I could buy my own ayahuasca and drink it for a month!" With these thoughts, I flipped a coin and it came up tails. I decided to leave. "If I still have that thing in my stomach after I get back from Percy's, I will ask Javier to proceed with the healing," I thought.

Earlier that day, I asked about good curanderos in Belen market and was given the address of a man named Golbert Grandez. Since I wouldn't be receiving a healing from Javier, I decided to go and meet Golbert instead. I found him in his office behind a storefront. He looked like a rather ordinary middle aged Peruvian and had a picture of Sathya Sai Baba on his altar.

"What did you come to me for?" he asked. I told him that I wanted to help people in some way.

Golbert took out a necklace of Indian rudraksha beads and put it around his neck. Then, he extracted a pack of tarot cards from a drawer. "Cut the cards," he instructed. Without me asking for it, he was doing a tarot reading.

I turned on my voice recorder.

"The first card says that your psychic powers are dormant. You need to awaken them," he began. "The second card says that you have very green healing energy in your hands, but that you need to meditate more to connect with the plants and learn their language. The third card says that you will promptly have new knowledge. You need to drink the plants, to sing to the plants, and to smoke the plants.

"You have a lot of karma that needs to be cleansed and let go of. The cards say that you represent the face of plants in the world. God has a plan for you to travel the world spreading a message of hope. But you need to raise your consciousness, learn ancient knowledge, and work hard. The plants will clear your old karma and the bad intentions of others that are still affecting you. There is an old energetic disturbance in your stomach, the result of someone's bad intentions.

"When you drink the plants, you need to call to them and ask them to give you their knowledge and powers. You have to do this with every plant you work with. You will travel to many parts of the world, bringing healing. You will meet many important people who will help you with your projects." I didn't have any time to ask questions. Golbert kept talking.

"The spirit of music is present in your body and soul. Many people will record music with you...

"An angel of nature is going to enter your body and heal through you. You will need to wash yourself with plants and take plants internally for this to happen.

"Many people from other places will come to see you, asking for advice and healing. You can bring ancient transcendental healing to the physical world. People will help you bring healing to every corner of the planet. The world will accept you quickly. Your words will find acceptance and love. Many sick people will look for you to restore their health.

"There is a fermentation in your intestines that needs to be purified. In your feet, there are many stored negative energies that need to be removed. You have a lot of mucous accumulated. You need to clean your lungs and throat, and to purify your blood. Then, you will be able to heal people through your hands.

"But first, you need to have health in your body. You need to energize yourself with flower baths. You need to meditate alone, to communicate with the spirits of the plants and the elemental forces. You need to lower your intake of sugar and salt. When you diet, other spirits will present themselves to you and talk with you. The spirit of tobacco loves you. You need to smoke and blow the smoke on your body to harmonize your energies...

"The plants of the Amazon want you to start dieting right now, today, to connect with them. We will have a ceremony tonight to begin the process, and then you will take a purgative to clear the old energies out of your body.

"You also need to take some plants for your nerves to have good health, then clean your pancreas and your urinary system. You need to take out all the garbage and purify your blood. You need to practice songs, icaro, chants, sounds. The first thing is to purify your body and clean everything out. Afterwards, you can take ayahuasca, chiric sanango, mapacho, and other purgatives. That is all for now."

Golbert paused, then asked me for $70, to "buy the medicine." I paid him and went home, instructed to come back again in the evening.

When I returned that evening, Golbert led me to a bathroom and gave me some perfumed water to bathe with. He also told me the name of my guardian angel, which I immediately forgot it. After my bath, some sort of a mini-ceremony was performed for me, and I was sent home with a laxative drink and a set of rather generic instructions. I drank Golbert's medicine, but the only obvious effect was that I did not sleep very well that night.

The following day, I ran into Javier in the market. His eyes sparkled with obvious spiritual power. "Why didn't you come yesterday?" he asked. "Nevermind! I am working today, you can come!"

I made some excuse, saying that I wouldn't be able to make it - I was eager to get to the jungle. Later, changing money on the street, I was robbed of ten dollars. By the time I realized what happened, the money changers had already disappeared. That night, I again slept poorly, waking up many times. When morning came, I packed my bag and went to Percy's center, planning to stay there for two weeks, while keeping the strictest possible diet.

e

Walking through those familiar woods, with the sounds of birds and other wildlife all around made me feel very much at home. After being shown to my hut, I carefully arranged my things on the table and went for my flower bath. Bathing with perfumed water was supposed to remove negative energies from my body and attract the plant spirits. At 7 PM sharp, everyone headed to the temple for a ceremony. As I was heading out, I wondered whether I should lock my door or not.

"The plastic mesh on the windows is very easy to break," I reasoned. "If anyone wants to break in, this lock will not prevent them from doing so. Besides, I stayed here before and it was safe. I'll just leave it open."

In the ceremonial temple, we waited for Percy for over an hour. During this time, my initial excitement about the ceremony faded, and I lost all desire to drink. The mere thought of ayahuasca made me nauseous. My mind travelled to Canada, to my co-workers, family and girlfriend.

When Percy finally brought the brew, I drank a cup and threw up immediately. For the rest of the ceremony, I just lay there, not really comfortable, slipping in and out of dream states. In a brief dream, I saw two Swiss gentlemen who were opening a cafe. "What's missing here?" they asked each other. One word came into my mind: "a safe."

At that exact moment, I woke up and opened my eyes. The temple was dark and silent. I wanted to immediately return to my hut, but then saw that Percy was still there and that the ceremony was not yet over. I resisted the urge to leave and lay back down.

When I finally arrived at my maloca after the ceremony, I immediately saw that my camera and Ipod had been stolen. I ran to Percy's hut and told him about the robbery. He said he would investigate in the morning.

This began a restless night for all of us at the center.

Back in my hut, I examined my backpack and found that my rented cell phone was also missing. "It's better to not have anything, to be nobody, to live simply," I thought.

I also thought about the possible causes of my misfortune.

"I don't know how moral or immoral these shamans are," I realized. "They all want a lot of money, and they all have a lot of power, which they could easily use to take advantage of the people who come to see them. While I was vulnerable in the ayahuasca trance, Javier could have easily put a spell on me, tweaking my destiny. And what is the point of these ceremonies? Tonight, I didn't even have any visions..."

I got up and looked again at the table - my cabin key was also missing.

A moment later, Percy's voice called me from outside my cabin. "Andrew, are you OK?"

Being too restless to sleep, I went outside and joined him. We moved through the darkness from cabin to cabin, checking all of the locks. One after the other, we found three more cabins that had been broken into. Inside them, things were scattered all over the floor. I saw credit cards, clothes, and empty wallets.

We hurried back to the central maloca, where everybody was still lying on their mats, totally unaware of what had taken place. Percy braced himself and announced the bad news, speaking in Spanish.

Nobody understood him, so I began to translate.

Soon, everyone went to their rooms to assess the damage. One man lost $300. A Swiss couple claimed to have lost an astonishing $5000. Another man had nothing of value, so he lost nothing. The fourth man had all of his valuables in his backpack, which he brought with him to the ceremony. That's what I should have done.

I spent the rest of the night in the relative comfort of my own space, while the other visitors grouped themselves inside two of the largest huts, afraid to sleep alone. During the next few hours, every sound seemed menacing. In particular, the falling papaya leaves sounded like approaching footsteps.

It was about 2 AM when Percy and his apprentice, armed with machetes, started walking to the closest police station. The rest of us went to sleep. The same day, Ninfa had her cell phone stolen in Canada.

e

Waking up nice and early the following morning, I prepared to go to Iquitos to cancel my Visa and my cell phone. Percy was still out. Before I could leave, the Swiss couple approached me and the man began to interrogate me.

"Where are you going? Why? What's in your bag?" he questioned. I gave him my bag to look through.

"What is this?"

"It's a flashlight," I replied.

"What's that?" The guy was relentless.

"It's herbs. Leaves. Medicinal plants," I answered.

The man kept me there for about 15 minutes with his questions.

"I don't think you should go alone," he finally said. "I think we all need to stay together until the police get here."

"That's a great idea," I replied sarcastically. "Unfortunately, I have things to do. I need to cancel my phone and my credit card."

"Then we will go with you," concluded the man. "But we first I need to change my clothes and get ready."

The guy slowly walked to his hut and disappeared inside. If David Icke was right about the existence of lizard people, this guy must have been one of them! The way he moved, talked, walked - everything about him took ages.

He still wasn't ready when I suggested that instead of going to Iquitos, I would call Alan from the nearest pay phone. The lizard man agreed, but sent two people to accompany me. They followed me like bodyguards.

A strange feeling accompanied me everywhere I went. Every turn of events and almost every conversation seemed to be right out of a really good movie. I had just lost a lot of valuable stuff, but I had to admit that I was having fun.

e

Next morning, I awoke to sounds of rain beating softly against the thatched roof of my hut. The drops of water falling from the giant banana leaves sounded like footsteps. With my eyes still closed, I imagined that Ninfa was coming to see me.

That evening during ceremony, Percy rang the closing bell over and over, pausing for long intervals. It seemed like he was waiting just for me. Finally, I went outside and purged. When I came back, the ceremony was officially closed, but I was offered a second cup of ayahuasca, which I accepted.

After drinking a second serving of the brew, I hurried back to my hut. I knew that very soon, walking would become impossible. Even if I could still move my legs, it was likely that I would either get lost or just wonder off into the jungle, hypnotized by the moon.

In the safety of my bed, my thoughts turned to the possibility of going back to Canada. I no longer felt so sure about staying Peru.

"I could just live simply in Canada, close to all of my best friends," I thought. "Do I really need all of these adventures?"

Just then, I felt something very large was approaching. A powerful energy hung over me and the silence was so profound that it felt uncomfortable.

I began to mentally chant a mantra to fill the silence.

Then, something started to pull me downwards and to the left. I resisted because I did not know where I was being taken. A few moments later, I saw faint black and white outlines of various kinds of fish swimming in front of my eyes. I was evidently in an underwater world. There, I encountered many beings who were chatting excitedly. In a flash, various plant spirits presented themselves to me. These tiny spirits greeted me and I understood that I was being accepted into a school.

After this, I was brought in front of a spirit whom I could not see. We communicated telepathically. Ninfa also appeared, in the form of a little baby.

"Teach me," I asked the being. "Help me on the way, give me strength."

"First, hand that baby over to me," the spirit replied.

I reached for baby Ninfa, but she pulled away, afraid and crying. I reached for her again, and the same scene repeated. Eventually, I abandoned communication with the spirit, preferring to keep Ninfa.

During the entire journey, I was listening very attentively to the sounds all around - inside and out. I heard two kinds of sound made by the spirits \- the sound of blowing and the sound of spitting. In addition, I kept hearing the sound of saliva hitting the floor. Spirits were present in the room, and although I could not see them, I could definitely hear them. Outside, a little night bird was singing on top of my roof.

I became aware, as the effects of the ayahuasca faded, that a clean and pure a body was necessary in order to communicate with the spiritual world. I also saw that pollution of every kind served to prevent communication with the world of spirit.

Unnecessary pollution had penetrated everything - our air, water and food, as well as our minds and our senses. It became clear to me that this pollution was a weapon used by the dark side, playing a big part in the constant battle between good and evil that rages all around us.

The following morning, the Swiss man came to my room and began to apologize for suspecting me earlier.

"Don't worry about it, it's OK," I said without lifting my eyes from the painting I was working on. He kept silent for a few moments.

"Actually, we still suspect you," he finally said.

"Is that so?" I asked. "I don't want anyone to go to Peruvian prison... Maybe we can keep it private and not go to the police," he went on.

"Keep WHAT private? What are you talking about?"

"When the insurance comes in, if you just give us the money, we will not go to the police," he droned in his dull monotone.

"Are you serious? Didn't I already tell you that I didn't take your money?"

"Well I just don't want anyone to go to jail here," he mumbled.

"I got nothing to fear and nothing to hide. I already told you that," I said.

"I'm just making you an offer..."

It was fortunate that I was deeply engaged in painting at the time, which allowed me to divide only a tiny fraction of my attention to this most unpleasant personality. Otherwise, he could have driven me mad.

"If you're gonna go to the police, what will you tell them?" I finally asked.

"You left the ceremony first, and your key was found in another cabin."

The fact that my key was later found in another cabin was strange. In fact, the entire series of events was strange, but I had already given up thinking about it.

"I don't know why my key was in another room," I admitted. "But I know that I didn't put it there. Maybe it's some kind of a setup.

"There is nothing you can say to defend yourself if you go to prison... I just don't think it's fair," said the Swiss very slowly in his lizard-like manner.

"You're right, it's NOT fair if I go to prison. Cause I'm innocent!" I snapped. "Well, I'm sorry that this funny situation happened. I have to go now," he said, opening the door. "It's not funny," I objected.

"I have to leave now. We won't do anything. Sorry we suspected you."

e

The Swiss disappeared and the air seemed to regain some of its freshness. My painting was finished. I packed all of my things and headed back to Iquitos, planning to return to Percy's center as soon as possible.

It had been raining for days - long bursts of torrential rains lasting hours. It rained many times during each day, and the jungle road was so muddy that a group of men had to pull in entire tree trunks for making walkways.

They pulled their loads on a rope, puffing, yelling, and laughing. I had to go around, through the thick of the jungle, as the path they were working on was impassible. Navigating through the thick of the forest, I found something resembling a footpath, and after trekking through the mud for an hour, came out near the highway. In my mind, I was considering the possible causes of my recent bout of bad luck, and making future plans.

e

Over the course of the next few days, I found out that no crime is investigated in Iquitos unless someone pays off the cops. But even after you hand over the cash, nothing is really done. The police only demand more and more money.

I called my phone company and was informed that a number of phone calls had been made from my cell after the robbery.

"Great!" I thought. "It will be easy to catch the robbers now, with these Iquitos phone numbers in hand!" Wrong.

"We can't get the names of the owners of these cell phones," a Peruvian cop told me. "That information is private. What I can do is call the numbers from my cell, pretending to be a drunk member of the gang. This way, I may be able to get some information. But first, I need some money to buy credit for my phone."

I gave that cop a $20 bill.

"I can also try to pay off the phone company and get the names of the people that way," he continued. "But that will cost $100 and there is no guarantee." I refused to pay and never heard from that cop again.

Percy said that he was paying off the cops, but there were no results. The Swedish couple continued blaming me, going as far as to say that Alan was the mastermind behind the robbery, while I was his puppet, responsible for doing the dirty work. Several months later, Percy finally told me that the theft had been committed by his cook, who disappeared shortly after.

My things were never recovered.

  "Don Quixote" (Peru, 2009) | Previous: "Scared Girl" (Peru, 2009)
Chapter 2

Conversations with the Real Don Juan

THE ACADEMIC community now largely agrees that the Don Juan of Carlos Castaneda was a fictional character. Yet in Iquitos, Peru, I met a real healer with the same name. Don Juan Tangoa had been Alan Shoemaker's maestro for nearly two years.

I did not recognize Don Juan when he first welcomed me into his house because he looked so ordinary. "Some people like to wear feathers and color their faces to impress the tourists," he explained.

"They pretend to be indigenous, but they are not, and neither am I. Why should I wear feathers, paint my face, and all that nonsense?"

That night, there were only four people present when Don Juan started to serve the ayahuasca. "It's tasty!" he told me. "Are you hungry?" I drank my cup, chasing it with a slice of orange. The taste wasn't at all that bad, and it didn't linger in my throat like Percy's brew. I sat and waited.

The door opened and a group of Peruvians entered to join us. They were the first such group of several. Don Juan chatted and joked with his Peruvian friends for about half an hour before finally turning off the lights.

I sat in the darkness, awaiting the icaros. Soon my field of vision exploded in brilliant color. The geometrical patterns before my eyes were exquisite, and the colors were otherworldly. Don Juan went outside and spent the next 20 minutes violently coughing and spitting. Everyone in the room was silent.

Then, many high pitched voices began to appear around the room. Each voice had its own unique character. Some made gargling sounds as they spoke, others produced a certain characteristic sigh. They did not appear to be speaking Spanish.

"They are voices of spirits but they have no real power," Alan later told me. "They can't do anything, but they come to watch. One time I blew smoke at them and they all went away," he laughed.

There was celestial music playing in the air - somewhere above me and to the right. I felt like the whole world was a flute, like the fabric of space-time itself had holes, through which some spirit blew these celestial melodies. They were of a higher frequency than any man-made instrument and consisted not only of a melody but also of a harmony of at least three voices.

I concentrated on my third eye and was taken further and further in, greeted by ever changing patterns. I traveled through what seemed like a crystal world, then felt my body expanding until it became enormous. I remained in meditation for some time and realized what is attained by Zen Buddhist masters. By training their attention in extensive meditation, their attention remains in the same heightened state during waking hours. With my eyes closed, I felt like a Buddha sitting on top of the Himalayas.

I was having visions when I felt Ninfa thinking about me. "What is more important - these visions or connecting with the woman I love?" I wondered. It was difficult to decide. But by then, it was already too late. I started thinking about Ninfa and the visions disappeared completely.

I was back in my normal state of consciousness, only feeling love for her and a connection with her. When I eventually let her go, the visions returned. Evidently, it was one thing or the other.

Suddenly, one of the little spirit voices said something about a woman dying and images of crosses and such things appeared before my eyes. My mind began to spin out of control. "What would happen if Ninfa died?"

This thought ended all of my bliss and I found myself submerged in deep sadness. Straightening myself, I lit a mapacho cigarette. At that precise moment, Don Juan started singing. His first song brought a very strong feeling of dejavu. We once listened to that same song together with Ninfa, lying on my bed, staring up into a giant ayahuasca tapestry on my ceiling.

For a brief moment, I felt that I was in the right place and that everything was perfect, but the feeling did not last very long. Don Juan was on his second or third song when horrendous screams began to echo through the air.

Outside, among the roars of motorcycle engines, women and girls could be heard screaming in terror and desperation. It sounded like a gang of psychopaths armed with chainsaws was out on a killing spree. Under the influence of ayahuasca, I could easily imagine that a civil war was starting. I pictured men with guns breaking into Don Juan's house and killing all of us.

Don Juan stopped singing and listened attentively for a few moments. The air was filled with the sounds of dogs barking, engines roaring, people screaming. A few of us went outside to look. Don Juan disappeared into the darkness, walking towards the main road. I stood by the corner of his house, smoking a mapacho cigarette.

It was then that I first saw the functioning of virotes, or magic arrows. Something inspired me to blow smoke towards the offenders, while mentally telling them to leave. I blew, and saw several white lines, straight as arrows, separate from the cloud of smoke and fly toward the offenders. The remaining smoke had empty spaces where these lines used to be! Not able to believe what I was seeing, I repeated this experiment again and again. Each time, four or five white-light arrows separated from the cloud of smoke and moved silently in the direction I blew. Soon afterwards, the offenders drove away, leaving us in peace.

Don Juan resumed his singing, starting again from the beginning, with song number one. A few minutes later, the noise and the screams returned, and it was like this for a long while. My mind was troubled by the pain and the fear in those voices, and by the unbelievable insensitivity of the people causing this problem. Around the corner from the house, a local disco was providing a noisy background of beats, bass lines, and general racket. I suddenly became aware of just how exhausted I really was.

As the ceremony continued, I felt more and more drained. The visions would stop for a while, then begin again. Unable to sit any longer, I lay down on the floor. When I did that, my heart chakra became aligned with two other-dimensional sources of light positioned directly above me. These lights shone sea-blue and ocean-green beams of light into my heart, filling it, expanding it, and healing it.

"The positions found in Hatha Yoga may be specifically designed to align the energetic centers of the body with these other dimensional sources of energy," I thought.

Soon, Don Juan started inviting people to come and sit in front of him. As I listened to the beautiful icaros he was singing to them, I could feel just how much he was giving to each student. I felt sad that he was not my teacher.
"Why did you come here?" asked Don Juan when it was my turn to sit in front of him.

"I came because strange things had been happing to me," I answered.

"What are you doing with your life? Working? Studying?"

"I'm looking. I don't know..."

"You let the noises and the chaos distract you," cautioned Don Juan. "Those brujos came here to disturb the ceremony and you fell right into their trap! You concentrated on them instead of on your own process. That is exactly what they wanted! You need to control your mind and not be shaken by such things."

Don Juan then sang me a Christian icaro about finding my way. He blew twice into my chest and declared that my treatment was finished. After this, pleasant states of trance and visions continued until the end of the ceremony. Everyone went home one by one. I alone remained with the maestro.

"Alan says hi," I broke the silence. Don Juan walked over to me.

"What? Who said hi? Alan Shoemaker?" His face lit up and I felt like we had finally connected. The energy changed completely. His eyes were sparkling with crazy lights.

"This house is a school for studying shamanic healing," he told me. "I cover the program in two years. Then, the student graduates as a good curandero. I teach about all aspects of shamanism - blowing smoke, singing icaros, preparing ayahuasca, healing people with your hands, reading and adjusting people's energies... I also teach how to develop mind powers."

It all seemed at once unreal and perfect. I realized that this was what I had come to Iquitos for - to learn all of these things.

Don Juan repeated several times that shamanic apprenticeship is not difficult under a good teacher. "I will take care of everything," he said. "I will explain your visions and your dreams, and teach you how to know the true visions from the illusions. Ayahuasca shows 70% truth and 30% illusion. I'll show you how to tell them apart."

Don Juan told me that his medicine has no admixtures, only ayahuasca and chacruna. He also told me in no uncertain terms that Percy's ayahuasca is toxic.

"He puts in too much toe. Then you have more visions, but you throw up a lot and you defecate a lot. It's not good for the body. Percy doesn't heal, he just makes your body react to the toxins. Here, we do real healing," he said.

We talked for a while longer, discussing many topics. Finally, I asked whether I could stay the night, and Don Juan consented.

As soon as Don Juan went to bed, I realized that I was dying of thirst. I was in the kitchen looking for water when the front door opened and someone barged in, stinking of booze. It was Juan's oldest son, Willy.

It turned out that here wasn't any drinking water in the house, so at Willy's suggestion, we roamed the dirt roads of the outskirts of Iquitos, searching for an open store. It was after 3 AM, and everything was closed. Only the local disco continued playing cheesy 80's dance music, like a blast from the past. Luckily, I eventually succeeded in buying a bottle of water from one of Willy's friends.

The effects of Don Juan's ayahuasca could still be felt when I awoke the next morning. It was difficult to walk and the quality of the light was different. I felt a little bit nauseous physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, I felt great. I told Don Juan that his ayahuasca was the strongest I had ever tried. "The strength of the brew does not depend as much on the amount of plants in it as on how well it is prepared and sung to," he replied.

Don Juan then informed me about an upcoming jungle retreat with him and his students. "You should come," he said. "It will be good."

I was exhausted from my first 10 incredibly intense days in Iquitos, but decided that it would be good to spend a few days out in nature. And off we went, trekking through knee deep mud towards Don Juan's newly acquired jungle property, forty six kilometers from Iquitos.

e

Our first ceremony in the jungle was not very memorable. The ayahuasca wasn't potent, so I focused on Don Juan's singing. Sometimes, I was sure that he was psychically watching me.

After the first three songs, I became aware of my stomach, which was like a volcano about to erupt, gurgling with all kinds of violent energies. In my visions, I saw my stomach expand and expand. Inside, it was full of water and something that looked like black seaweed. "I need to go to go to Javier's and clean up my stomach," I thought. "It is one of the things I came to Peru for."

The following day, I asked Don Juan about his ayahuasca. "It wasn't very strong this time, was it?"

"The ayahuasca was strong," he responded. "But there were a lot of negative forces present. They took away the power and the visions. There are always two or three brujos attacking me, and I am just one curandero. It is difficult. Iquitos has a lot of competition, and a lot of dark magic."

"Could I be of any help when you fight the evil spirits during ceremony?" asked one of Juan's apprentices.

"No," said Don Juan firmly. "You need protection first or you can die."

"How do you recognize a brujo?" I asked.

"A brujo will have red eyes and a red mouth, like the devil," responded Don Juan. "His mouth is red with the blood of the people he had killed, because he eats them. There are many dark shamans here... Shaman Norma Panduro was killed by black magic. People here pay thousands of dollars to have others killed. So many drug dealers approach me and tell me, 'Kill this person, I'll give you $15,000.' They put the money on the table in front of me. I could kill a person in 15 minutes, but I don't want to. I am a healer. I like to heal babies, mothers, children... I don't want to kill anyone!"

Later, Don Juan shared many stories from his youth.

"When I was young, I drank ayahuasca with very old, very knowledgeable curanderos," Don Juan continued. "They had many powers, including the powers of invisibility and teleportation.

"To develop these powers, you need to diet for six months, and stay away from women during the entire time. Not many people can do that. Who can live for six months without seeing a woman? As a young man, I was with many, many women. I never had trouble with women. That was one of my weaknesses. My first wife died because the spirits punished me for not taking their rules seriously. Now, I have a very heavy heart.

"I was already drinking ayahuasca at the age of 13. I drank a lot, but even after six months, very little was happening. Actually, things were happening, but they were not good things. I was talking in my sleep, screaming in my sleep, singing in my sleep. It was driving my mother mad. One day, an old man came to our house and invited me to drink with him. I went, just to allow my mother a little bit of rest.

"I had been drinking two or three cups and not having strong visions. The old man took out a little fat bottle and poured me a tiny bit of his ayahuasca. Maybe a tablespoon of it. I drank it and lost all sense of where I was. I felt like I was flying. I tried to hold on to the floor, to hold onto something, because I felt myself lifting off the ground. 'Just relax and don't try to do anything,' the old man told me.

"That night I saw everything. I saw all of my life, how I will die - everything! Finally, a spirit came and asked me if I wanted to be a curandero. In my intoxication, I couldn't answer. 'I will come back in one year,' the spirit said. 'Think about it and tell me yes or no. Only those two words, nothing else!'

"After a year, that spirit came back, asking me for my answer. My mind wanted to tell him 'no,' but my mouth said 'yes'. My mouth moved by itself, as if it had a mind of its own. That's how I became a curandero!"

"One time, I had a boy here who had cancer, and I cured him of that disease. That is how I became famous. They wrote about it in the newspaper, and then people from the Discovery Channel came to do a documentary about me. They stayed for two weeks at my house.

"They came to see whether I could really heal or whether it was all a hoax. The woman from the Discovery Channel couldn't stand up, couldn't walk. I had to heal this. I put her on a diet for eight days, and we drank ayahuasca three times. After eight days she could walk. She was very happy!"

"So you can heal people in just a few sessions?" I asked. "I thought that much more time was needed."

"It is very difficult to do it so quickly," replied Don Juan. "For a quick healing, the curandero has to talk with the person or the power that caused the disease. That is the quickest way. It's like a contract or a negotiation. The curandero talks with the brujo telepathically and gets him to remove the original spell."

I remembered Javier DaSilva. "This is exactly what he does," I thought.

e

When I asked Don Juan about my stomach, he became thoughtful. "You can have an entity living in your stomach, or in any other part of your body. These spirits are always hungry and want you to eat and keep eating. If you want to weaken these parasite entities, you need to fast. They also don't like ayahuasca, because ayahuasca will clean them out."

"Perhaps this is why emotional eating is such a common thing," I thought. "If excessive eating feeds the demonic entities, abstaining from food must starve them. Even the Bible speaks of removing demons by fasting." I asked Don Juan how a spirit entity can enter into the body of a person.

"When a person forgets God, evil spirits can enter. If you always pray and remember God, you will be safe," he said. "Also, when you drink ayahuasca and purge, evil spirits get expelled."

"No curandero or brujo actually has any power," Don Juan later told me. "The power is in the plants. I only have power when I'm sitting with the ayahuasca in my hands. At other times I have no power."

Yet, I heard stories about Don Juan's supernatural powers, especially his mind reading ability, which he sometimes displayed in day to day life.

Later, when I got to know Javier DaSilva, I noticed that he did the majority of his work without using ayahuasca. He attributed his supernatural powers and healing abilities not to himself, but to the spirits. Javier told me that mind power exists, but it is not as strong as the power of the spirits and one gets exhausted from using it too much. At other times, Javier said that only God heals. "Don't thank me - thank God," he often told his patients.

Don Juan also told me that a lot of his power comes from God.

"The longer you diet, the stronger are the spirits that can enter into you. But I work directly with the highest, with God energy. I ask God to heal people who come to me. There is nothing more powerful than that!

"God is higher than the devil. But a person who works with God's power has his limitations as well. He cannot commit evil actions like black magic. If such a person casts a spell to kill somebody, he will lose all of his powers."

"So a shaman who works with God must be a real healer and not a brujo?" I asked.

"Yes, that's right," confirmed Don Juan.

I thought about Javier - how he prayed before and after the ceremony, sang Christian hymns, and said that he worked with God. I had been scared to return to Javier's house for another ceremony, because my first ceremony with him seemed to have set off a karmic avalanche in my life. But if what Juan said was accurate, Javier could not possibly be a brujo.

After every ceremony and after every conversation, I tried to make up my mind whether to return to Javier or to run from him.

e

Night came and went. When daylight was breaking, I counted the calls of the rooster, still half asleep in my bed. I wanted to know how many times it would announce the coming of a new day. I stopped counting after 11.

When I finally woke up, Gordon, with whom I shared the room, began to complain. "I didn't get a wink of sleep! It was 10 hours of hell," he grumbled. Gordon's entire body was covered in mosquito bites. His back was the color of a tomato, and he was in a bitter mood.

"Gordon couldn't sleep last night," I informed Don Juan.

The maestro made a serious expression and looked me straight in the eye.

"That's because he doesn't have a woman," he said.

I laughed.

"Cocona. Wash with cocona then with grapefruit, then with ajosacha. After tonight's ceremony, he'll be fine," continued Don Juan.

Cocona is a little yellow or orange tropical fruit. It grows on a bush and has a hard shell-like skin, covered in fine fuzz. Inside, it contains hundreds of little seeds. This sour fruit can be eaten together with the seeds and is very good for colds, sore throats, and other types of inflammations. It is also used for preparing cold drinks and is the main ingredient in the famous Peruvian salsa. Ajosacha is a tree with leaves that smell like garlic. It is used on its own or mixed with ayahuasca for its healing and protective effects. Once Gordon washed himself with the fruits, the itching passed and he felt much better.

I also asked Don Juan about the medicinal tree known as oje.

"The white, resin-like sap of this tree is mixed 50-50 with orange juice and taken for its purgative effects," he explained. "It cleanses the digestive system, purifies the blood, and rids the body of parasites. Oje cures all types of cancer. I have oje trees here on the property, but you can also buy it in Belen market, for about 2 dollars a bottle."

Shotly after breakfast, we went on a trip through the jungle. Quite near the entrance, we saw the paw prints of a medium-sized tiger. As we walked, Don Juan showed us all kinds of medicinal trees and plants.

"Motela sanango, or 'para para,' is the natural Viagra," he said. "It is a bush with large oval leaves, about 8 cm x 16 cm in size. The leaf of this plant is recognized by the fact that when you try to break it, it always returns to its original shape, without any sign of being damaged. When this plant is properly dieted, it returns sexual power to men with a weak reproductive system. Viagra will have harmful effects over time, but this plant will solve the problem once and for all, without any side effects!

"Remocaspi blanco is a tall tree, the bark of which is imbibed in a tea to cure malaria. The white variety is the one with medicinal properties, while the red variety is used to make fine furniture. The white variety is distinguished by the very thin layer of white present under the bark. In the red variety, the white layer is absent." Don Juan also told us about many other plants.

In the evening, as we sat around the dinner table, I asked Don Juan about the practice of blowing tobacco smoke.

"The power comes from blowing icaros into the cigarette before smoking it. Then, when you blow the smoke, you are able to blow energetic darts - not to hurt or kill human beings, but to protect yourself from evil spirits. There are people who enter trance with tobacco instead of ayahuasca, but tobacco intoxication is disgusting. Ayahuasca is much nicer. I drank tobacco before, and it was so bad that I wanted to die!" he laughed.

"My speciality is working with lovers, with couples," he continued. "But a curandero is not like a western doctor. A doctor can be a surgeon or a dentist - he only specializes in one direction. The curandero does everything. He can cure cancer, but he can also fix a broken relationship or lift a depression. He knows how to fix all kinds of problems - physical, mental, or spiritual.

"The shaman also has the power to attract women," Don Juan continued. "Ayahuasca gives him that power. But it's up to him to control his sexuality. There will always be a lot of women available to him, but he has to choose just one, somebody special, with whom to spend his whole life. It is spiritually bad to have many children with different women - children who don't know who their father is. After you die, having children like that will create problems in the spiritual world.

"You must also be careful with sex when taking ayahuasca. Once, when I was young, my very beautiful girlfriend came to see me just a few hours before the ceremony. I couldn't resist the temptation to sleep with her. During that ceremony, I started throwing up so badly that I felt like I was puking my balls out," chuckled Don Juan. "We must respect ayahuasca and not have sex for a while after taking it."
That night, we had another ceremony. The main purpose of it was to clear Don Juan's property from negative spirits. This time, Don Juan had a woman assisting him. She told him what spirits she saw and where they were. Then, he sang the appropriate icaros to remove each kind of entity or energy. Apparently, Don Juan did not have the ability to see the spirits himself.

When I came up for my healing, the woman told Don Juan that I had a lot of negative thoughts. "Purify your mind," Don Juan advised. "The events of your life happen according to your thoughts and your consciousness!"

As soon as the ceremony ended, extreme tiredness came over me and I went to bed without saying a word to anyone.

"Working with ayahuasca is really exhausting," I thought, feeling a sense of despair. I missed Ninfa and my home. Out of that love and longing, my mouth began to sing. "When will you be back? To see--ee--ee..."

The first melody that came out of my mouth was the right one. The words I was intuitively singing were just perfect. I kept singing, so as to not forget anything. As soon as I sang the song all the way through, my tiredness vanished. I felt rejuvenated and full of energy, with a great love in my heart.

Melodies and words kept coming to me all night, all of them beautiful. I couldn't even think of falling asleep and losing them. Instead, I went outside with my blanket, pen and notebook, writing the songs down in candle light. There, hundreds of mosquitoes stung me mercilessly.

The night was absolutely pitch black. I couldn't see two inches in front of me, but I walked without a light to test and challenge my senses.

As I was walking down the long hallway inside the house, I noticed what I first thought were white mosquito nets glowing inside the rooms. Then, I took note of their strange shapes - almost semi circular and low to the ground. When I extended my hand toward the light, it touched a wall. I realized that I was actually seeing the auras of sleeping people, not the mosquito nets! Moreover, I was seeing them through the wall! The auras were visible in every room, and they guided me as I walked to my bed.

I only slept a few hours before the rooster crowed a broken and very funny call. I laughed inside myself at the beauty of the imperfection of that sound. At that moment, I knew what unconditional love was.

e

When I saw Don Juan in the morning, I told him about my experiences with music the previous night. He explained that when one receives a song, a spirit enters the body, and that this was the reason for my sudden rejuvenation and happiness. Then, I asked about one of his icaros, the one called Pomerosa. While Juan was singing it the previous night, I saw a beach by the side of the river. It was the only vision I had the entire night. Don Juan laughed before explaining that icaro.

I was very young when I wrote that one, just 13 or 14," he began. "One night, I drank ayahuasca on the banks of the Amazon, not far from a very large and very popular beach. In my intoxication, I saw a sirena come out of the sea. She was very beautiful, dancing and singing. The wind was blowing the white sand and lifting up her skirt. That's what the song is about!"

Don Juan then sang the song with evident pleasure. "It is for attracting women, but I never use it for myself. I just use it for those who need help with that aspect of life."

"You need to keep drinking and keep dieting to learn more," Don Juan later told me. "The original, traditional diet is just fish, bananas, tapioca, and dried meat of wild animals, without salt. It can be very dangerous to diet strictly for a long time. I once tried to diet for twelve months, but could only finish eight. By the end of it, I was so weak that I almost died.

"What plant did you diet with?" I asked.

"Ayahuasca," he responded. "That's why I'm an ayahuasquero."

"When I dieted that time, all kinds of spirits came to me. They came while I was sleeping or resting, both during the day and in the night. The spirits that came to talk with me looked so real that I often thought that I was talking with actual people. Then, I would wake up and realize that the people I saw were actually spirits.

"Chiric sanango, lupuna, and many other tree spirits came to me then, teaching me their icaros. I have an icaro that calls all of the plant spirits that came to me - high and low, big and small."

Don Juan took out a mapacho cigarette, held it between his hands, and whistled an icaro into it. He then lit it, inhaled, and blew the smoke all over his arms, chest, and body.

"You need to learn how to do this. It is for defense. There are many evil spirits and black magicians out there. This will keep them away from me tonight," he said. "Once, a spirit came to me at night with a revolver, wanting to kill me. The spirits have all kinds of weapons, both old and new. It's better to protect yourself with tobacco."

"If a spirit shot you with a revolver in the spirit world, would that also have an effect in the material world?" I asked.

"Of course! You'll feel the pain, in the same spot, and you can even die."

In the evening, I asked Don Juan about drinking ayahuasca alone and with other shamans. He told me that I should drink with only one maestro.

"You need a few months of preparation before drinking alone," he said.

e

"I wouldn't be surprised if one of us got malaria," said Gordon as we packed for our return to Iquitos. "I once had cerebral malaria in Africa. It almost killed me. Malaria is really weird, because it comes in cycles. You feel normal most of the day, but then you feel a headache coming on, and you start to get really tired, with no energy, just really sick. That only lasts an hour or so, and then you're fine again. Then, as you get sicker, the space between the periods of sickness and the periods of wellness decreases, until you're spending half of the day well and half of the day sick. If you don't start taking the medicine at that point, you'll become completely incapacitated, and maybe even die."

Gordon also told me about the strange and interesting phenomenon known as Malaria Dreams.

"When you get malaria, the dreams you have start to get really, really weird. The line between dream and reality blurs, until you can no longer tell if you're dreaming or awake. Suppose I had malaria right now. I might be talking to you, just like this, and then something completely impossible would happen. Like your head would explode and worms would come out!

"Then, I'd slap myself and wake up, and there you'd be, still sitting across from me. I would tell you about the crazy dream I just had. Then a huge energy vortex would open up behind you, and pull you and everything else inside itself. I'd realize that I am still dreaming, shake myself again, and maybe wake up into another dream. Eventually, I would be back in the real world, gasping for breath. That's what it was like just before I got really sick.

"One night, I was with my girlfriend, telling her about all of these crazy dreams I was having. She told me to go back to sleep, but I got up to go to the bathroom. I opened the bathroom door and discovered another world behind it! A three-story-tall blue African man waiting for me there. He was a black man, but actually blue, with a huge smile on his face.

"I followed him through a city of fluid, grounded, wavy buildings, and came upon two clowns, painted to look like mirror images of each other. Split down the middle, one side of each clown's body was lemon-yellow and the other side was lime-green. They were reclining on beach chairs, wearing huge clown wigs and huge glasses, and laughing maniacally. It was the most

weird and crazy thing I had seen in my life!"

e

Before we headed back to Iquitos, Don Juan came over and gave me a shacapa - a sort of a shamanic mini-broom made of special leaves. The shamans of the Amazon use shacapas to keep rhythm and perform healings.

"How does a shacapa work?" I asked.

"The plant from which it is made can pull negative energies out of the body. You can also use it to clean spaces, like your house," he answered.

As we trekked through the mud towards the main road, I asked Don Juan about Doña Otilia, a curandera about whom I heard some good things.

"I'm thinking of drinking with her on Tuesday," I told him.

"She is a bruja, pure bruja!" exclaimed Don Juan emphatically. "She is not a healer. She doesn't serve a proper diet. The day after taking ayahuasca, she serves fruit, sweet things, and cold things. You can't eat those things on the day after, because if you do, the ayahuasca ceases to be healing!

"She studied with me for a while," he continued. "When I came to Iquitos, the curanderos here didn't know anything. They didn't know how to use shacapas to keep rhythm. I had to teach them everything. Otilia only wanted to sell plants and get rich. She didn't know how to cure with the plants. I taught her, but I saw that she had many snakes in her mouth and in her head -a lot of brujeria - and I told her so. She got upset and started a war against me. She then started saying that she was MY teacher," he laughed.

"I taught many people, but they gave me nothing back. They only take and then compete with me. They used to be my apprentices, now they are spreading rumors about me, using my name and telling lies about me.

"It's the same with Alan. He first came to me in very bad shape, basically a junkie. I restored him to life, but he's not even grateful. What makes me upset is that he calls me a liar. Yes, I make jokes sometimes, like saying that I drank ayahuasca with the Queen. Everyone knows it's just a joke - the Queen is too FAT. She wouldn't be able to DIET the day after taking ayahuasca!"

"And what about Ron, the Gringo shaman from the States?" I asked.

"He's a good friend! Completely crazy, but a great friend!" Juan answered. "Yes, you can go see him on Tuesday."

"Aside from ayahuasca, what are the most important and powerful plants in the Amazonian rainforest?" I asked.

"Ayahuasca is the most powerful plant in the world," said Don Juan. "Nothing is better than ayahuasca. Other plants have power too, but much less. The chiric sanango tree is strong, but you have to diet it under the supervision of a maestro because it's dangerous.

"Does chiric sanango give visions?" I asked.

"Not like ayahuasca. You may see something like static, but it doesn't give proper visions. Another powerful plant is toe. But it is toxic, so it should be used very sparingly. I only put one small leaf of it into my ayahuasca, and only when the ayahuasca is weak. It strengthens the visions.

"Tobacco is also very powerful, but tobacco intoxication is disgusting. You cannot control your body. And you have to drink a lot of tobacco juice to reach the necessary level of intoxication - two or three large cups. It's much easier to smoke tobacco during an ayahuasca ceremony and connect with the spirit of tobacco that way. Then you can learn the tobacco icaro."

I attended another ceremony with Don Juan a few days later.

"We have a problem in the house," said the maestro as soon as he saw me. "Tonight, we are drinking ayahuasca to investigate."

While we were in the jungle, one of Don Juan's students had $1000 in cash stolen from his bag, which he left in a locked room in Don Juan's house. His money was hidden in three different spots inside a bag, which was also locked. The locks on the bag and on the door were intact and the bag was in perfect order, but all of the money was missing. I wondered how something like this could have happened.

We drank the ayahuasca and silently sat in the darkness. Ninety minutes passed. There were strange energies around. The dogs outside seemed to be saying "brujo" with their barking. I tried to see who stole the money, but it was impossible to tell a useful vision from the distracting ones.

At times, I heard very fine music playing in the air, like the ringing of tiny bells. When I asked Don Juan about it, he said that the senses become fine tuned when under the influence of ayahuasca, allowing one to see and hear more.

"Train your ears and your eyes, and you can learn to look deeper into things," he suggested.

I also saw powerful visions of war and of destruction - rows upon rows of

missile launchers, hundreds of them, destroying everything in front of them.

"The forces of darkness cannot function without people!" I realized. "Somebody has to build the weapons and operate them! Somebody has to do evil things for evil to exist! We are responsible, it is up to us to say no to war!"

Eventually, Don Juan started singing his beautiful icaros.

"Another shaman with whom you drank attached a small animal to follow you around," he told me. "It is a tracking device. That shaman uses the animal to know where you are and what you are doing. I'll remove it."

Then, Don Juan said a few words about ayahuasca. "This plant is not native to Earth. It comes from the extraterrestrials. It is an intelligent being."

 "Death" (Mexico, 2006)
Chapter 3

A Close Encounter With Death

BACK AT Alan's house, I met two Americans who just came back from the jungle. They told me that the shaman with whom they stayed didn't charge them any money for anything.

"We had completely free lodging, ceremonies and food, and he taught us so many things," they informed me excitedly. "He even gave us plant cuttings to send home and a liter of already prepared ayahuasca!"

It sounded magical. I wrote down the directions to the camp as if they were the directions to a gold mine. The shaman's name was Artidoro.

When I met Artidoro several days later, he struck me as a very nice little old man, with a youthful energy and a happy disposition. I immediately noticed his red eyes and remembered what Don Juan said about brujos, but could not believe that this smiling little man could possibly be a dark shaman. In fact, I wasn't sure that I believed in brujos or dark shamans at all.

I arrived at Artidoro's camp without warning at dusk, accompanied by two friends. We ate and relaxed while Artidoro and his helpers set up our beds.

There was one sick Peruvian in the camp - a man who could not extend his leg. Artidoro said that this man would soon be walking again.

"How will you cure him?" I inquired.

"With vapor, massage and plants," he answered. "I am not a shaman. I am a world-famous maestro! Soon, I will be going on tour of India, Bali, and Thailand. Next week, a group of cancer patients is coming to see me from Finland. After I cure them, I am going to sell this land and open a holistic healing center in Pucalpa!"

That night, I drank with Artidoro. His songs were beautiful and sounded ancient. I did not have visions but was satisfied with the tranquillity of the night. The ayahuasca started to come on only after Artidoro left and went to bed. A spirit came and brought little balls of light that entered into me one by one. It felt pleasant, but I did not realize at the time that I was putting myself in a lot of danger by allowing this to happen.

For a while I concentrated on the sounds of the jungle. Then, I asked the ayahuasca to show me my future and saw bottles filled with herbal medicine.

The rest of the night was spent writing more songs and running to the bathroom many, many times. I didn't sleep a wink.

I went back to Iquitos the following morning and spent several days there before coming back to drink with Artidoro again.

This time, I felt restless, sleepy and tired after drinking. Mosquitoes were biting me much more than usual and I was unable to concentrate. After about an hour, Artidoro asked me how I felt.

"Not good," I told him. "It's because the dose is bigger," he explained.

"Soon, you'll be flying!" I did not come anywhere close to flying. I just continued feeling bad. Artidoro stopped singing and started talking instead. "With each dose, you purify yourself more and the experience gets stronger. The plants take out all of your negative energies and teach you with visions of truth.

"The plants have powers and knowledge, which they want to share with humanity, because they are benevolent beings. Just as there is a world of humans, each with a different personality, there is also a world of plant spirits. Every plant has a spirit, which lives in the spiritual dimension.

"When we call the spirits by their names in our icaros, they come to see why we called them, and they work on our bodies, both physically and spiritually. They diagnose the problems we have, and work to cure us. They do this because they are a good, kind and helpful. Once they enter your body, they can stay with you for life. But there are things which the spirits do not like, because like our lovers or wives, they are jealous. Although each plant has its own preferences, no plant spirit likes pork, chili or sex."

I felt really unwell, but the things Artidoro was saying fascinated me.

When Artidoro sang again, he called between 50 and 100 spirits, which I felt entering into me. The song was in a language I did not understand. "I called each spirit by his original name in the aboriginal languages. Sometimes they don't understand when you call them in Spanish," he explained. It didn't even cross my mind that he could have just as easily been casting a black magic spell on me as a healing one. In my intoxication and openness, I felt that Atidoro was an encyclopedia of knowledge and goodness.

"Stay here for some time, and you will learn how to use the plants, how to prepare them, and how to run your own ceremonies. You will be a master before you know it," he told me, smiling.

I wanted to tell Artidoro how great I thought he was, but my mouth seemed to have a will of its own. "The things you are saying have no value," I blurted out. It was a poor translation into Spanish of the English word invaluable.

"What? Are you insulting me?!" Artidoro was shocked and squirming.

I tried to explain what I meant, but it came out wrong every time. All of my attempted explanations only angered Artidoro further. "You have a genetic flaw that makes you say negative things," he finally told me.

Artidoro then closed the ceremony, hugging everybody and wishing us sweet dreams. After he went to bed, I stayed up chatting with some new friends, talking about philosophy and truth. We felt like little kids, giggling and being silly.

I thought about what Jesus once said: "Unless you become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom of God." What did it mean?

"Our experiences as children are blueprints for our later goals and expectations," I thought. "To transform our lives, it may be necessary to become like children again, and recreate those blueprints by having new experiences."

But Jesus was probably implying something much different. Children don't think philosophically and definitely don't drink ayahuasca.

Sleeping was impossible, so I walked through the forest, to the temple and back, singing songs the whole night. Once again, I didn't sleep a wink. When morning came, a terrible headache began to torture me. I gradually felt weaker and weaker, spending the whole day in bed, feverish and ill.

Several times, I asked Artidoro's assistants to have him come see me, but he never came. After several hours of waiting, I found Artidoro myself.

"I feel very bad," I told him. "Extremely weak, very sick..."

"Do you feel, hot or cold?" he asked me.

"Hmm... Sometimes hot and sometimes cold," I replied.

"What? That's impossible! You must feel one or the other... How can you feel both? It's because the weather is changing. It was rainy, now it's sunny..."

Artidoro was talking nonsense. "This weather is so crazy! Stupid weather. Just bathe in cold water in the evening, and you will be perfectly fine!"

By the afternoon, I began to experience pain in my throat, along with breathing difficulties. My entire body became extremely sensitive to touch. Touching my muscles with my hands made me shiver. I was unable to take a deep breath and felt thirsty even after drinking several liters of water.

At 7 PM, I joined Artidoro and the others in ceremony. By that time, I could barely move and was too weak to drink ayahuasca, so I just lay there, freezing under two blankets. Artidoro assured me that he would heal me, and indeed, somewhere in the middle of the ceremony, I began to feel better. My fever lessened and I began to sweat. My headache and tiredness diminished. Only the pain in my throat persisted unchanged.

In the morning, Artidoro persuaded me to drink a little bit of ayahuasca on my own. I obeyed and drank. After making myself comfortable in my bed, a feeling of great happiness came over me. My body felt ecstatic, and I quietly lay there, immersed in bliss. Then, I began to whistle. All of my life, I knew myself as someone unable to whistle. Although I practiced and really wanted to learn, nothing ever came of it. Now, suddenly and without explanation, I was whistling beautifully.

A song called Remember Love came to me. At the time, this song felt like the most beautiful song in the world. As I sang, the love I felt became so strong that tears started falling. I wondered if Ninfa was feeling the same way.

Each time I went outside, amazing plants caught my eye. I could see the intelligence inside them as I stared at the delicate and ingenious construction of each one in awe.

Then, as night approached, my fever returned. My body became painfully sore from lying on the thin mattress. Suffering and unable to sleep, I could remember only two other occasions when I felt equally sick. The first was when I overdosed on old Hawaiian baby woodrose seeds while at university. I puked for hours and honestly thought that I was going to die. The second was when I caught some nasty virus in South Korea. They forced me to come to work anyway.

Artidoro wanted me to stay longer, but I knew that I simply couldn't. My mind was in a fog and I was no longer aware of what I was doing. The only thing I knew was that I was extremely sick and needed to get back to the city immediately. In the morning, Artidoro bid me farewell with a smile.

Back in Iquitos, I finally had a night of actual sleep, even if it was not the most restful. In my dreams, spirits communicated with me continuously. None of my dreams that night could be called ordinary or normal. Sometimes, I opened my eyes but did not recognize where I was. The line between dream and reality was disappearing.

e

I got sick on Monday, felt better on Tuesday, and came to Iquitos on Wednesday. On Thursday, I went to shopping for warm clothes and medicinal plants, looking for a remedy.

"What do you have for tiredness?" I asked at a stall in Belen market. "And for headaches? And what if I always feel cold? And is there something for sore, sensitive muscles?" The saleswoman touched my forehead.

"Wow! You have a high fever," she said. "It may be malaria! You should go to a hospital right NOW!"

A light bulb came on in my foggy head. I had all of the classic symptoms!

"There is no question about it," I thought. "I must have malaria."

With only a few dollars worth of Peruvian money in my pocket, I jumped into a taxi. "To the hospital," I commanded.

The hospital was on the other side of town, and I nearly passed out from the noise and the heat before we got there. I was expecting some free medication, but was told that I would have to pay $20 just for the exam. I only had the equivalent of $5 on me. "Here's the address of another hospital for you. They do everything for free," the receptionist told me, apologizing.

Jumping into another taxi, I hurried to the next hospital. Soon, I was telling my story to the receptionist of the emergency department.

"I'm sorry, but you need to have either insurance or money," I was told. "Here's the name of another hospital where insurance is not required."

By the time I got to the third hospital, I only had the equivalent of $3.5 left in my pocket. Every passing minute made me feel worse. I began to wonder whether anybody was going to help me at all.

This time, I was actually admitted into the hospital, but was told to pay $2.5 for the admission and another $2 for the medication. It was more than I had, so I explained my story to the woman in charge of finances. "Just give me $2 and tell the doctor that you have no more money," she instructed.

I was admitted and my blood was tested. It took one very long hour to get the results. During that hour, cold and sweating, I thought about everything.

"I must have gotten malaria during the jungle trip with Don Juan," I reasoned. "There, I was stung by hundreds of mosquitoes."

But why was I the only one to get sick if there were eight of us in the jungle? Other people had even more mosquito bites than I did! More importantly, why didn't Artidoro accurately diagnose my illness?

Based on the symptoms I had, any Peruvian could have easily done so. So why did Artidoro tell me that I had a flu related to the weather? Why did he try to convince me to stay in the center, when malaria gets more dangerous with each passing day?

"What am I even doing in Peru?" I wondered. "I have been robbed, I have been cheated, and now I probably have malaria, from which I may actually die. I've been here for less than a month. And what did I get out of it? Absolutely nothing! I lost my job, my security, and my girlfriend, to sit here in this hospital, shivering with fever. I'm going to get the hell out of Peru and never come back again!"

As expected, my test results came back positive. When I handed the results to the doctor, he frowned and looked worried.

"You have two types of malaria at the same time," he began. "You have cerebral malaria and the regular kind. This is extremely rare, and I don't know what to do. We will have to call a specialist and probably hospitalize you." My heart sank. "Is it possible to die from this?" I asked.

"If you don't take the medicine, then yes, you can die," replied the doctor. I thought that I was finally finished.

The doctor made a phone call, then addressed me again.

"Wait outside. The specialist is going to come in two or three hours."

I went outside, bought a bottle of water and made a phone call to Alan.

Answering machine. "I am in the hospital with a severe type of malaria... I've got no money." Would I even be able to get home with just $1 in my pocket? I didn't know.

An hour later, I was invited into the treatment room, where I could finally lie down. A nurse came over and stuck a needle into my vein. I watched as tiny drops of dextrose solution travelled through clear plastic tubes and disappeared inside me.

Lying there, I prayed and prayed. On the bed across from mine was an old man, who by the looks of it was doing much worse than I was. To my right, a baby was constantly crying.

Fifteen minutes later, I was lying in a puddle of my own sweat. I started to sing, hoping to lessen the tension. As I sang, I suddenly became aware that I actually felt happy. As unbelievable as it seemed, I was enjoying lying on that hospital bed, my vein hooked up to a tube, singing! The desire to leave Peru was gone. At that moment, I knew for sure that I would be all right.

I asked the doctor for a phone and called Alan again. This time he actually picked up.

"Alan, I'm in the hospital with a severe type of malaria," I told him.

"You have malaria? OK, good. Did you give them any money!?"

"I didn't give them any money. But they say it's a complicated type of malaria and that I have to stay here in the hospital."

"You don't need to be in a hospital! Just get the medicines and come home!"

You'll be fine in three days. All they want is your money! Tell the doctor that you are going home. See you soon." Alan hung up.

"I want to go home," I told the doctor.

"Bueno. We'll give you a big dose of medication intravenously. If you react well, we will consider sending you home," said the doctor.

As it turned out, my body handled the medication without any problems and I was allowed to go. By the grace of God, the hospital was located next to a bus stop. With 50 cents in my pocket, I had just enough money for the ride home.

e

Ninfa told me that my negative experiences with theft and malaria were a clear sign that I needed to get out of Peru, but I didn't see it that way. Having lived through all of those fears, doubts, and suffering, I didn't want to just retreat to Canada in defeat. "Better things are coming," I told myself.

On the day I fell ill with malaria, my dog seriously hurt herself by running into a sharp stick. After the incident, she couldn't walk and had to be taken to a vet. At the same time, my mother fell ill with a fever from a tooth infection. My dad, who never dreams, had a dream of me sitting in front of a huge snake. He tried to talk to me but could not. All of these signs suggested one thing: that my illness was probably caused by powerful black magic. I just couldn't see it at the time.

For the next ten days, I took malaria medication, the side effects of which were almost as bad as the disease itself.19 As soon as I felt strong enough to go out of the house, I visited Don Juan.

"You need to drink a cup of cucumber juice daily to clean your blood," he instructed. He also said that dreaming of a snake meant that I was in danger. "Be careful with the diet and don't drink with other shamans because it can be dangerous," he said.

"Sometimes, when you break the diet or drink with the wrong shaman, an illness can return. The relapse is often worse than the

original problem."

As we ate lunch, one of Juan's students talked about his nine-day bout of diarrhea, going into all of the fine details of this exciting adventure. The other student left the table in disgust. Then, Don Juan joined us at the table.

"You should learn an icaro," the maestro told me.

"But all of your icaros are so complicated! How can I sing any of them?"

Don Juan nodded. "They are difficult because they are powerful and concentrated. A simple icaro doesn't have the same power. We are having a ceremony on Thursday. Come and I will sing an icaro into you. Then, that icaro will become a part of you, and you will learn it easily.

"Great," I said. "That's just what I wanted."

"I can't sing anything into you unless you ask me to do it," added Don Juan. "Some people come here and expect that I am going to put something into them without them asking. They want to learn, but don't tell me their intentions. So I just perform the ceremony, without teaching them. After a week or two, they complain that I haven't taught them. It's the same with people who have a disease or a problem. If they have cancer, they should tell me right away that they have cancer, not wait until the last day. How can I put something into you without your permission?"

"Do you ever ask other shamans for help when you get sick?" I asked.

"No. Once, when I was young, I got really sick, and a friend took me to this old lady who was supposed to cure me. She worked with tobacco. But she wasn't a healer, she was a bruja, I just didn't know it at the time. She gave me a lot of tobacco to drink, then after I drank it all, she handed me a huge pipe, saying that I had to smoke it all. I told her that I was already intoxicated, but she kept pushing me, so I threw that pipe against the floor and broke it."

"Then, she sucked out my illness, but she also sucked out all of my knowledge and powers. The next morning, I couldn't remember a single icaro, and when I drank ayahuasca, there were no visions. I drank three more times, and finally, on the third time, it worked. Then, I sang an icaro to get my powers back from that woman. I got all of my powers and her powers as well!"

"That's another reason to not drink with just anyone," I thought. "A lot of us foreigners have done spiritual work and developed powers or energies which might be lucrative to some of the local shamans."

It was great to see Don Juan's shining eyes and to be in the field of his energy. "Be careful," he told me before I left. "Don't tell people too much about yourself. The more someone knows about you, the easier it is for them to harm you. Remember that you should only drink with one maestro. There are a lot of brujos out there. Also, malaria medication is toxic. You need to drink a glass of water with a clove of garlic crushed into it every morning for 8 days, it will help your liver."

e

One evening, Alan introduced me to the gringo shaman, Ron. I had wanted to meet this exciting character ever since the first day I heard of him.

"Whenever I ask Don Juan about other shamans, he says that they are all brujos," I told Ron. "You're the only one he considers to be a good guy!"

Ron laughed. "It's a lot of work to be a good guy around here. I have been attacked by brujos many, many times. They wanted me to stop what I was doing. For a couple of years, I had a lot of problems, but they haven't bothered me lately. I just worked harder, doing more plant diets to get the strength to defend against these attacks. Now I welcome them. If they want to come to me, I let them come and see what happens!"

In Iquitos, Ron became famous for using smoked DMT for shamanic purposes. I asked him how he started using DMT in his practice.

"I once had a patient who was very sick," began Ron. "Neither western doctors nor other curanderos could help him. He tried everything before coming to me. He drank ayahuasca in the jungle, drank toe, worked with many healers, but nothing was helping him. He was in constant pain, and thought that he was going to die. When he asked me to work on him, I told him that he could come back in a few days to drink ayahuasca, or I could smoke DMT and work on him immediately. He asked me to do it immediately. A few years earlier, ayahuasca told me in a vision that I was ready to begin healing, but this man was my first real patient.

"When I work with DMT, I smoke it and sing, just as I would with ayahuasca. I hardly ever see spirits when I smoke, but a lot of energy comes in. I channel this energy through the power of the icaro. My patients get healed, so it works. I have treated people who were carried into my house, unable to walk, and watched them walk out on their own after a session.

"Recently, a couple of foreigners smoked DMT in a session and walked out without saying anything. I don't know what experience they had. I told them that I only wish to do what is best for everybody, and that I love them all. But they just walked out. DMT is definitely not for everybody. I don't use it very much these days, but in special cases, I do.

"Anyway, I told this man to lie down, surrounded him with crystals, and prepared the space for a ceremony," Ron continued. "I smoked DMT and began my songs, but I did not give him anything. Suddenly, he looked at me in a way that told me that he wanted to vomit. I asked my wife to bring a bucket, and watched in amazement as he puked and puked. He didn't drink anything, but he was purging, so something was obviously happening. That session healed him.

"I also saw that he was being attacked by a bruja. That night, I had a dream. I was sitting with a tiger in front of me, caressing it. Then, I realized that I don't have a tiger as an ally. A jaguar, yes, but not a tiger! At that moment, the tiger attacked me. It was the same bruja that tried to kill my client, taking the form of a tiger to attack me in my dreams. I grabbed it by the throat, pushed it away, and ran to hide. When I woke up, I began to blow tobacco everywhere and sing my icaros. My voice was very coarse, very sore. When my wife heard me, she thought that I was dying.
"I chased the spirits away that night, but they did not leave me alone. Over the next week, our child got really sick, crying all the time and having nightmares. My wife also got sick. She did not believe in black magic, but the things that were happening to us could not be explained in any other way.

"I held a ceremony and saw that the witch was attacking my family because she could not touch me. When I saw that, I sent her my virote, my magic dart, with the intention of killing her. I don't know what happened to her, but I haven't had any problems with her ever since, and neither did my client. He was completely cured and offered me 300 hectares of land as a reward. I refused the offer because he wanted me to find a logging company in the States and sell the wood, splitting the profits. That's not my kind of thing. I want to preserve the forest, not to log it and sell it!"

I asked Ron about his teacher.

"My teacher was a very powerful brujo," he replied. "He had the ability to kill a human or an animal almost instantly. One time, he killed a young boy in our village for stealing his radio. The boy just got thinner and thinner, and no doctor or healer could diagnose the disease or treat him. Eventually, the boy died. At times when there was no food, my teacher would go out into the forest without any weapon and come back with all kinds of animals, which he killed with his magic darts. He said that I could easily get that ability if I dieted for one year. But for me, it's just not practical to take that year off."

"For a while, my teacher was angry with me for something. So we had this battle, this power struggle, but he never stopped being my teacher, and although I defended against him and fought against him, I never stopped respecting him. One time, I found him almost dead. He had trouble breathing and looked like he was going to die. He was already 95 years old.

"I asked my wife to take him to the hospital, but the hospital would not admit him. They could see that he was going to die and did not want to deal with that complication. That evening, I held a ceremony for him. Before starting, I asked him if he believed in God. He said that he did. I then asked him why he did all these ungodly things, why he killed people and caused harm. I told him that I forgave him for all the wrong he did to me, and that I respected him because he was my teacher, but that he would have to stop using his powers for doing evil.

"I had a ceremony with him, doing my best to heal him, and in the morning, my wife took him to another hospital. Again, she came back together with him. 'What happened this time?' I asked. She told me that the hospital refused to admit him because he was completely healthy."

"From that day on, my teacher became a different person. First of all, he said 'thank you' to me. This man never said thanks to me for anything! And then, all the people around town started asking me, 'What did you do to him? Now he says hi, good morning, please and thank you!' My teacher told me that he saw God face to face that night, and the vision changed him forever. So it's never too late to change. He was 95 then, and lived for another 11 years!"

"Did he transfer all of his powers to you when he died?" I wondered.

"Yes, he gave me his powers before he died," confirmed Ron.

"What is the difference between singing your own icaros versus singing those of your teacher or another shaman?" I inquired.

"I find that my own songs have more power," answered Ron.

"Do you have any songs in English?"

"Yes, I have one that goes something like this: 'Ayahuasca, chacrunita, mapacho, toe. These are very sacred plants. They were put here by God to heal us.'"

I told Ron that a lot of songs had been coming to me during ceremonies. I wanted to know whether they were icaros or just regular songs.

"How do you tell the difference between a song and an icaro?" I asked.

"A lot of people want to sing their songs during my ceremony," began Ron. "Sometimes I let them, but when they sing, it's obvious that it's not an icaro but a song which they sat down and wrote. The main difference is that a song is something that you consciously write, while an icaro is something that comes to you from the spirits. When you sing the two, there is a vast difference. But in terms of language, words or structure, I don't think it's all that important. For example, Santo Daime19 hymns have very different words and structure from traditional icaros, but they are received from the spirits, contain energy, and can heal," explained Ron.

"So can an icaro sound like a love song?"

Ron nodded. "Yes, I don't see why not. As long as it comes from the spirit. Besides, love is very powerful. You know that!"

We talked for a while longer. Ron told me about his life in Peru and his previous life in the States, about doing all kinds of drugs, about getting busted for smuggling marijuana, and about his recent decision to stop smoking.

"I smoked marijuana for over 30 years," he told me. "It helped me a lot, but I feel like I have outgrown it. Sure, it gave me a lot of good ideas, but I didn't DO anything with them! And I found myself a slave to this plant. I would grow it, smoke it, and sell it. My whole life revolved around it. Also, my ayahuasca began to lose strength, despite the fact that I always cooked it in the same way. There came a time when 20 people would come to drink with me and only one or two would get any effect. At first, I blamed it on all kinds of things, but finally realized that my marijuana use was the real problem."

"When I realized that, I gathered all of my marijuana and put it inside a big wooden box. I dug a hole in the ground, and ceremoniously buried it. Dark clouds came in and a big storm broke out. There was thunder and lightning, and I felt that the earth accepted my offering. I didn't smoke since, except for maybe a puff here and there, with some friends."

We also discussed the diet at Artidoro's camp. Artidoro served fruit, eggs, oil, salt and sugar -all of them traditionally forbidden in shamanic diets. When I spoke to Ron about it, he told me that these new diets and new ways of doing ceremonies have been created solely to accommodate the fussy and weak-willed westerners, who complain when the food is different from what they're used to.

"We used to drink sitting on a mud floor, without even a pillow," remembered Ron. "That is the proper way to spend a ceremony - sitting up. That way, no brujeria can touch you, and when you bow your head slightly forward, you align the spot where your neck meets your head with the sky. This is a point through which you receive knowledge. The westerners don't want to sit, so the shamans let them lie down on mats or in hammocks. It's the same with food. The traditional diet is no longer served, because the westerners don't like it!"

It was already late, and Ron had to get back to his property, 9 kilometers from Iquitos.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ron," I told him. "I hope to visit you soon!" "Likewise. I'll be looking forward to your visit," he said, shaking my hand.

e

The following day, I introduced a friend, who was quite afraid of drinking ayahuasca, to Don Juan.

"You feel resistance after drinking because you don't have a clear direction. What do you want to achieve? What do you want to heal? What do you want to learn? These are the questions you need to ask yourself before you drink," explained Don Juan. "The role of the maestro is to discuss your questions and guide you along the correct path. When you have a good maestro, the way is not that difficult.

"You just have to keep a good diet. Ayahuasca doesn't like salt, sugar, or any extremes. It likes balance," continued Don Juan. "When you are balanced in your diet, in your emotions and in your life - that is when you learn best. If you eat salt and other things while taking ayahuasca, you will not learn as quickly. You need to purify your body before the spirits can enter. Also, ayahuasca can punish those who break the diet. If someone who drinks ayahuasca and then goes out drinking and sleeping with women gets herpes, HIV, or some other disease, it is a punishment from the plants."

As I listened to Don Juan, my friend photographed him.

"Next time, bring me two women," joked Don Juan. "One for each side! Then, I will look a lot more handsome!"

 Kundalini: a dormant energy or power, coiled at the base of the spine like a snake. When awakened, this energy is said to increase creativity, heal diseases, and give supernatural powers.

 Salvia Divinorum: a psychoactive plant native to Oaxaca, Mexico, which has a long and continuous tradition of religious use by Mazatec shamans.

 Ayahuasca: a powerful psychoactive and purgative infusion prepared from the vine of the same name (containing MAOIs), usually mixed with the leaves of DMT-containing species of shrubs. Ayahuasca has a long history of use by the native people of Peru, Colombia and Ecuador. Vomiting and diarrhea are common, but are thought of as important and even essential to the plant's medicinal function..

 Chiric Sanango: A small tree important in Amazonian shamanism. It contains the same active chemicals datura or toe. These plants are potentially very dangerous and excessive use can cause permanent mental impairment or even death.

 Shipibo: an indigenous ethnic group of Peru. The Shipibo people are famous for their beautiful and brightly colored tapestries. These designs are often inspired by the visions they see in the initial stages of ayahuasca inebriation.

 Curandero: a "good" shaman who uses his powers to heal.

 Rudraksha: the seed of a large tree sacred to the god Shiva. It is believed to hold magical properties.

 Icaro: a melody whistled or sung by the shaman, to communicate with the spirits and achieve an alteration in reality

 Mapacho: a strong jungle tobacco with very high nicotine content, considered to be sacred by Amazonian shamans. Some shamans drink mapacho "juice" to produce visions.

 Maloca: an ancestral long house used by the natives of the Amazon,

 Virote: a spiritual magic dart that a shaman can send out in order to attack someone. It is a weapon used in spiritual combat. Dark shamans also use their virotes to cause harm and illness.

 Brujo: a shaman practicing black magic ("brujeria") in order to do harm, usually for money.

 Chacruna: a plant containing DMT, usually mixed with the ayahuasca to give visions.

 Sirena: a mythological woman living under the sea. Sirenas are said to be incredibly beautiful.

 Ayahuasquero: a shaman that works primarily with ayahuasca. Similarly, a tabaquero works with tobacco, a palero works with large trees, a perfumero works with perfumes, an oracionista works with prayers. There are many different types of shamans in the Amazon

 Don Juan said that his icaros fall into four categories: invocations of spirits or of God, combat songs, healing songs, and travel songs, which allow him to explore the world or other dimensions.

 The group from Finland never came. Nor did the man with the bad leg get any better. I saw him 3 months later in the same condition. He spent the entire 3 months in bed, unable to walk. At the time, however, I was very naive and believed everything that Artidoro was telling me.

 Later on, I was told by two shamans that Artidoro's songs were specifically tailored to make the people feel good while evil spirits slowly sucked out their life-force. Artidoro sacrificed the drinker's life-energy to the spirits, which is why he was always happy to run a ceremony free of charge.

19 Santo Daime: a church that originated in Brazil, combining ayahuasca with Christianity.
