By Arno Kopecky
The first time I tried ayahuasca, my mind
melted into the jungle and didn’t limp back until
morning. That was in 2010, in the mountainous
rainforest of northern Peru, home to the Awajun
nation. I was there to report on resource
extraction in indigenous territory and had no
business going temporarily insane, but I’d read
toomuch about the Amazon’s infamous brew
not to wonder what it might reveal. I askedmy
Awajun hosts what they knew about the drug;
the more I heard, the more I wondered.
They said it was a very strongmedicine, though
many of the effects they described seemed
decidedly non-medicinal. You could drink it to
cure an abiding illness, sure. But youmight also
see the future or the past; connect with animal
spirits; lift, or place, a curse.
I don’t doubt the elder who eventually prepared
my first taste meant well, but he gave me what
I can only call an over-pour. There were no
visions, no healing, only fireworks and chaos
(and some vomiting). And yet when the sun rose
and lucidity returned, euphoria came with it. I
felt light as the dawn’s orangemist, awash in
love, full of renewed purpose
…
It tookme five
years to work up the nerve to try that again.
This time I went to a different part of the
Amazon: Shipibo territory, down in the
lowlands, where the silt-stained Ucayali River
winds through the rainforest like a toddler’s
doodle. A friend, who had spent time amongst
the Shipibo, assuredme their
ayahuascero
tradition was strong and safe; I would be in
better hands than last time.
NOTA
SHAMAN
DOWNTHERIVERORUPTHE
CREEK?SAMPLINGPERUVIAN
AYAHUASCA,AGAIN.
CULTURE
90
MOUNTAINLIFE
WINTER /SPRING2016
ILLUSTRATIONSBYDAVEBARNES.
