Text: Ekaterina Fastovskaya, a doctor of Chinese medicine, member of the «Odysseia» club, and participant in the «Indigenous Shamanism of the Amazon» expedition held in December 2010.
In December 2010, I embarked on a journey to Peru, to the ancient world of shamanism, into the impenetrable tropical forests of the Amazon. Such trips are not planned but are granted from above. I am a healer, and along my path, gifted individuals cross my path who transition from being my patients to becoming my teachers, offering opportunities for growth simply because they can. Tatiana, a Muscovite who went on a similar expedition with Kostya and Sveta a year before we met and who supposedly came to me for treatment, ended up healing me. For that, Tanya, I am immensely grateful to you. Most importantly, thank you for sharing your bright and positive stories about Ayahuasca and the jungle; otherwise, I might not have decided so quickly if I had known the challenges that awaited me there.
Now I understand, and even knew before leaving, that I was making a long journey to the other side of the world to look within myself, to take endurance tests, and after each, to fairly assess myself.
Now, let’s go in order about the expedition and what Ayahuasca and Shamans mean to me. I hope my story will help many searching souls.
Meeting Kostya and Sveta was probably predestined as well since, in such matters, a guide is essential in the truest sense—a knowledgeable, experienced, honest Person of Conscience and Purity, who has worked in this field for a long time with many shamans, and most importantly, with infinite love for this work. In these guys, I saw such people and noticed the respect the shamans they work with have for them, and the trust they place in them. The group you pass these trials with is also crucial. In this sense, we were also fortunate; the group was strong in spirit, some of them had been through it before, which gave us optimism. There were 14 of us, and we walked this path together, each working on themselves while enriching others with their experiences. Thanks to everyone who was with me.
Our first shaman was Jorge Gonzalez, a true Curandero, knowledgeable and skillful, a great philosopher and virtuoso of the healing arts. He amazed me with his warmth, sincerity, and love for people, which he radiated abundantly. A master of this level personally greeted us at the airport, hugged each of us, and got to know us individually. This was unusual for us, people from the West.
It wasn’t by chance that he was our first guide on this expedition; the team had planned everything skillfully. Like a father, he welcomed us warmly and gently introduced us to Ayahuasca. His wonderful garden with many Ayahuasca vines and the House of the Sun provided comfort. The conditions were acceptable even for Europeans.
The shaman’s gracious assistants did everything they could to accommodate us. We especially enjoyed the abundance of fresh fruit juices they served, helping prepare us for the Ayahuasca ceremony, as it turned out later that we needed a lot of strength.
We eagerly awaited the first ceremony, although there was a bit of fear. Those who had participated in ceremonies before prepared us, and we are grateful to them for that.
The long-awaited evening arrived; we all dressed in white as a sign of respect for the Jungle Queen, Ayahuasca, and the curandero who would introduce us to her.
It was a very reverent moment. Sveta, with her baby Misha, brought a sense of calm. We understood that if they were taking Ayahuasca, then nothing bad could happen to us. Long before the trip, we familiarized ourselves with shamanism and Ayahuasca and roughly knew what this experience would be like, but now it was time to experience it ourselves.
Jorge radiated kindness, love, and paternal care, and we all drank a full dose and waited. I had previously gone through various self-improvement techniques, so I was looking forward to Ayahuasca with great interest. I’ll say that I immediately realized during the first ritual that I was dealing with something grand, unseen before in terms of vibrations, Power, and Divine resonance. There was nothing to compare it to. The brew was bitter, though other flavors were noticeable.
Medicine is always bitter, and from Chinese techniques of Wu Xing, I knew that bitterness heals the heart and thus the soul. I drank it as if it were holy water.
But within an hour, I realized that this brew wasn’t entirely comfortable in my body; the work began. Every cell encountered a substance it had never known before, which turned out to be very strong in vibrations—or rather, very subtle and high. I realized that Light had penetrated my body and was trying to illuminate everything. But there were many obstacles. My condition worsened; my brain stubbornly refused to shut down, wanting to show who was in charge. My consciousness resisted, my soul ached, my spirit didn’t know whom to command, chaos ensued. Each organ tried to attract the light to itself, and the cleansing of body, spirit, and soul began. I didn’t vomit, but my intestines and bladder worked overtime. The others were vomiting, and I felt sorry for them. The collective spirit was reassuring, knowing I wasn’t the only one feeling bad. It couldn’t be called suffering, but it wasn’t joyful either. I couldn’t find a comfortable position; my body hurt and stretched in all directions. I really wanted to escape this state, but I knew that you can’t run away from yourself. I thought that after years of physical cleansing and practicing qigong and yoga, this couldn’t happen to me. Naively, I thought I could argue with a highly evolved plant. But the power of Ayahuasca proved stronger than our human weaknesses. I had to surrender and listen, which I did, studying myself and attuning to Ayahuasca. Jorge worked wonders with his drum, his icaros twisted the soul, and at the end, the ringing of bells summoned all the Bright Beings to show how beautiful the world is. The ceremony lasted 5 hours, but it felt much longer. It was tough, but the subsequent ceremonies with other shamans redefined this state as good. Everything was ahead. This was just an introduction.
Master Jorge, like the other shamans, tried to open our inner beauty and show us through Ayahuasca how wonderfully we are created.
During the second ceremony, I saw colors I had never seen in life. As a child, I loved looking at the intricate patterns in a kaleidoscope. My visions were exactly like that. This time, the dose was half as much again, but it revealed my inner harmony, and I thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad. I realized how we, human beings, and all living things are created by the Creator. And in subsequent ceremonies, I saw what we do with that harmony. I am very grateful to Jorge for this experience; it became clear what we need to strive for.
The third and final time, I took half the dose because I had an early morning flight and was afraid I wouldn’t get up. This experience was one of deep meditation, which was invaluable to me because I had been meditating for many years but found it difficult to achieve mental silence. Here, Ayahuasca, along with the shaman, taught me how to do it properly. Time flew by unnoticed, and I felt very warm. The plant discreetly guided me into the depths of my soul, opening channels for perceiving the surrounding world. The Creator granted us fifteen channels, but at best, only five are functional.
During all the rituals, I realized my weakness and spiritual poverty, even though I considered myself a developed and strong person.
Master Jorge mostly showed our inner beauty and what we should strive for. A huge thank you to him for that!
The second part of our journey within took us deeper into the jungle, to the city of Pucallpa in the mid-Selva. We traveled by the Ucayali River to the center of Shaman Juan from the Asháninka tribe, a people who are now few in number. Shaman Juan Flores Salazar was closely connected to nature. I found the sound of Spanish to be disharmonious. Shaman Juan was a striking representative of the indigenous people. As I listened to him, I remembered the Native American heroes from the movies of my childhood, and there, the language was different. Something hindered my understanding, although the language itself is quite beautiful. But in Europe, it sounds different. I immediately felt sorry for all the indigenous people, for all the violence done to them, for the shamans who were exterminated—the Keepers of the Earth—for the ancient art of healing that is largely lost. True Teachers are lost to humanity; our children may never get to see real, evolved People. I think they remain only here, in the deep jungle, far from the golden calf. Many have been infected by it, and the infection is spreading. You look at a true Shaman and want to freeze them or put them into a state of samadhi to preserve them for future generations.
Shaman Juan was one of them. We barely noticed his first presence; there were no loud introductions like we’re used to. Shaman Juan behaved very modestly, quietly, and unobtrusively, like an ordinary indigenous person—this is captivating and teaches.
Simplicity and charm…
Everything is done without words—this is authenticity. His helpers, members of this tribe, scurried around us like ants, carrying our belongings, water, and happily guiding us to their home.
This was paradise—wild nature, untouched in places, a mountain river with water at 100 degrees, birds, huts with roofs covered in palm leaves, beauty and simplicity.
The food was natural. We slowly connected; it was unusual but warm from everything.
That evening, our first Ayahuasca ceremony awaited us, and we prepared with anticipation. Our group was three people smaller, and it became clear why, and things became even clearer as we went on.
Shaman Juan entered the ceremony just as quietly and unnoticed, almost shyly, as if he were taking it for the first time. He radiated light and love. When he sat down—across from me—I saw his sparkling and piercing gaze. I understood that he knew the places we had no access to yet. A shiver ran through me, and I realized that nothing good awaited me tonight. I saw before me a Great Master, an experienced Healer-Curandero, a person with a deep understanding of the world and its structure—things we only read about in books. Today, he would penetrate deep into my subconscious, turning me towards myself, organizing a meeting with what I had been running from all my life. I was scared, but the thought of overcoming myself gave me a lot of optimism.
The Ayahuasca was different—thick, tart, sweet-bitter, combining all flavors. Its richness told me that this would be a thorough cleansing of spirit, soul, and body, and I wasn’t wrong. It also became clear that this shaman would awaken everything within me, that tonight I would deal with all the accumulated karma. And I wasn’t wrong.
The beginning was decent; I even drummed on my knees, which was strange because I had no such talent. Then things got worse. My body grew heavier, my mind started to shut down, and my consciousness resisted this fiercely. It was hard; I knew I needed to surrender, but I didn’t want to. Then I realized that resistance was futile, so I drank the Ayahuasca and resigned myself; I had the courage for that, but then it left me. I had to lie down and surrender to Ayahuasca, like a more developed being, agreeing to the repairs. Things got worse; my body ached and was stretched in all directions. My soul groaned, but the scariest part was that my body became sticky and disgusting, foreign, as if it were decomposing—it was terrifying to touch, and I couldn’t even try; my hands wouldn’t obey. It became hard to breathe; my heart stopped beating; I began to sink deep into the earth. I resisted this intensely, feeling like I was being forcefully pressed down. Strange, incomprehensible screams came from above, ones I had never heard before. Everything came crashing down at once, and it was impossible to manage. Things got worse and worse, and I was terrified of staying underground forever. Then things got even worse. Something wet, moist, and hot started penetrating my body (as the shaman later explained, this was the Spirit of Steam). My bladder filled rapidly and demanded relief, and I tried to negotiate with it because my body was uncontrollable. I was terrified—what to do? How to overcome false shame? To relieve myself as a child would? It was painful from helplessness; I understood how the ego and senses resisted. And I began to negotiate with them, and I realized that the feeling of shame was greatly hindering my life—I needed to overcome it, and I did. It became easier, and I even praised myself for this small victory. It even seemed like I returned to my usual state and that the Ayahuasca effect had ended, but I was wrong. They, the shaman and Ayahuasca, were diligently working—only we, weak humans, tend to give up halfway. I still had six more long plunges into myself, and it felt like it would never end. But when the first roosters crowed, the dawn brought optimism. After that torturous night, I felt like I was reborn. I began to understand that I had experienced the state of death, the thing most feared by people. This meant I was free. It was amazing and joyful—my soul sang.
The next two experiences with Shaman Juan were different but also challenging. Here, I was being reborn, again quite painfully and difficultly. I was crawling through some long, dark tunnel for a long time—it was terrifying and impossible to break through; it was a burdensome state. Afterward, I gave birth to my two children again, reliving their births, feeling the joy and burden of labor. I understood that all this suffering remained in my soul and body, trying to be released. Then, more trials awaited me; I had to give birth to all the unborn children I saw as flying angels, and they all begged to be born. At that moment, I was struck by horror—I realized what abortions were. I asked them for forgiveness and gave birth to them one by one; it was painful and joyful. This state is indescribable. The morning brought lightness and clarity again. Once more, I came to understand many of my mistakes and sins.
Conversations with Shaman Juan clarified some of what happens during the ceremony, but to grasp more, time is needed. Now, more has become clear, and I consider this experience valuable—one that can only be evaluated by feelings, not by the mind. Also, it became clear how necessary it is to connect with nature and how to immerse oneself into oneself through a state of silence. Achieving this in our bustling world is impossible.
At Shaman Juan’s base, before the final ceremony, I had a curious encounter. I was sitting in the ceremonial hut when a white chicken unexpectedly approached me. I hadn’t seen it there before. It came very close and stared straight into my eyes, clucking as if trying to explain something to me. It persistently tried to convey something, and as I moved, it followed me. It became clear that it was talking to me, but I couldn’t understand. I guessed that the shaman had sent it in response to my request to help me in my healing work. It was frustrating that I couldn’t understand it; another spirit could have communicated with me. This realization made me understand how underdeveloped we are. The chicken stayed for the ceremony, hiding under the table. All of this had a depressing effect on me. I realized that shamans can communicate with the surrounding world, but we cannot. Such is our level of development—how sad.
Leaving this place was especially hard; it had become my second birthplace, and after a month, I realized it was drawing me back as if it were home.
This is truly a Place of POWER.
Our third shaman was Benjamín from the Shipibo tribe, also very small in number. His and his wife Antonia’s colorful appearance enchanted us. Their granddaughter Kati, daughter of the murdered shaman Pancho, was particularly charming—a sincere, kind, humble, hardworking girl.
With this shaman, we experienced more transformative wonders, different sensations, and work. The performance of the healing icaros, sung in two voices—male and female—was extraordinary. Inside my body, this was reflected as a certain pain from the imbalance of the two energies—Yin and Yang. I understood that they rarely harmonized within me. My personal life and everything else bore witness to this.
Shaman Benjamín continued the work begun by Shaman Juan in revealing my feminine essence, showing me the path to follow.
The boat trip deep into the Selva to the village of Pahoyan, home to the Shipibo tribe and the house of Shaman Pancho, killed a few years ago by demons of the material world, was particularly challenging. This is where people live in complete unity with nature in every sense, sleeping on wooden platforms without walls, roofs made of palm leaves, with all amenities in the jungle—no electricity, no sewage, no running water, none of civilization’s trappings. Yet, I didn’t see a single gloomy face; everyone was glowing, smiling simply, and reaching out to others. Every house was filled with children, and no one bothered anyone.
There was no crying or screaming like in our families with an only child. Food was at their feet, clothing was simple. But everyone reached out—ask, and they would give you their last. Again, I felt pain for us, where an only child is so spoiled by everyone that they can’t live and develop. The poor child constantly cries out from a sense of confinement.
Here, they fed us their last bits and brought us many souvenirs, which they happily sold for little money. I also wanted to buy everything to help these people, but something held me back, even though I had some money left. I understood that it needed to be spent, but I couldn’t. That night during the ceremony, I realized who had stopped me.
In Pancho’s house at the final ceremony, I drank a small dose of Ayahuasca since we were leaving early. But the work was immense—apparently, the precious vine had already taken root within me, and all that was needed for the cleansing was the shaman as a conductor, which I intuitively understood.
In an altered state of consciousness, I was tormented by the fact that I hadn’t spent all my money on souvenirs and had bargained with one of the women for a tablecloth—I felt ashamed of myself. But soon, I heard a voice within me that said: «I kept this money for my family, in whose house you are staying. In the morning, you will give it to my widow. In return, I will give you some healing power.» After that, I understood that it was the spirit of Shaman Pancho.
Before I could fully grasp what had been said, Shaman Benjamín carefully approached me and began his long healing song. It was beautiful—I danced while sitting, and I felt as if I were blooming. I was filled with love, joy, extraordinary light, warmth, and many other bright feelings. It was a true dance of light and love. Something burdensome was leaving me. I knew and felt that this was the final chord. We kissed each other, and I understood how to love people to serve them this way.
In the morning, I hurried to find Isabel to give her the money, and others followed suit. This is how the dead care for the living. This experience gave me so much.
Leaving Pahoyan was more joyful as we were bitten by mosquitoes. But the sense of joy stayed with us throughout the 14-hour journey back up the Amazon to Pucallpa. The shaman and his family traveled with us, which kept us warm.
In conclusion, I’d like to share some of my thoughts on this culture.
The shaman’s path is very difficult—this is someone who isn’t afraid to take on many trials that ordinary people couldn’t endure, only to then selflessly help all who need it. It’s a shame that few do.
A shaman is a highly evolved spirit, a healer in the truest sense of the word, deeply caring for this world and countering evil with immense love.
The culture of Ayahuasca, as I understand it, is accessible to few. And it doesn’t allow the faint of heart near. It’s a pity that the Sacred plant is being exploited and cut down by those with impure hands.
And the word «shaman» is often misunderstood as black magic, and in popular culture, it is used to label sorcerers.
The experiences I gained on this journey are incomparable to anything else. All my life, I’ve tried to understand life, the structure of the world, and humanity’s place within it. I realized that attempting to know this through accumulating knowledge in the brain is a futile endeavor. I’ve gone through many different schools, had excellent Teachers over the last 15 years, and achieved great results. But what Ayahuasca did under the guidance of a Shaman cannot be compared to anything. Nine Lessons of Life and Love, filled with the resonance of God. I want to preserve all this and carry it forward, helping others.
A month has passed since the expedition, and I want to share the changes that occur in me every day. Life is blossoming—so many interesting people are coming into my life, drawn to me like a magnet, with numerous new ideas emerging. My productivity is at a level I didn’t even have in my youth. And most importantly—a constant sense of joy in my soul, a state of flight. My companions from the expedition are also seeing their lives blossom.
My friends from Evpatoria, Ira and Lena, and I are immensely grateful to Svetlana and Konstantin for everything they did for us, sowing seeds of goodness and eternity.
We cherish the memories and, of course, dream of more expeditions to this magical world. We wish many others would gain this incredible experience and not be afraid to meet themselves in such extreme conditions.
Ekaterina, Crimea, Evpatoria
