Text by Sergey, a member of the Odysseia club and participant in the «Wonders of South America» journey, which took place in January 2011.
January 8, 2011
The wake-up call was early, before dawn. I immediately went to wash up, as the local «bathroom» is usually empty at that hour. I took my time with the cleansing and enjoyed it immensely, feeling a surge of energy and the anticipation of today’s upcoming triumph.
Breakfast consisted of the familiar quinoa, this time with fried fish, and some fruit. A tea bag brew rounded off the morning meal.
Igor and Sveta shared their impressions of the tobacco ceremony, recounting extraordinary stories of their experiences. Igor, for example, found himself as a medieval knight actively engaged in battle, cutting off the heads of defiant enemies with his sword. The images were so vivid that he remembered every detail of his warrior’s feat. Sveta spoke of a dream where she acted as a legal advocate in a case involving unauthorized expropriation by some dishonest individuals from a high-ranking official. This official had entrusted Sveta with taking her dog back to her residence. Upon arriving, Sveta discovered the looting in progress and, being an honest person, couldn’t help but express her outrage and called for the culprits to come to their senses. Such interesting transformations were taking place.
The weather that day was overcast, with a light drizzle. Kostya suggested we go for a swim at the well-known «stone beach,» and this questionable proposal found support from only two «relaxers,» who were subsequently rewarded. The water was so comfortably warm this time that we didn’t want to get out, and for an hour, we enjoyed the waterfall massages, taking turns standing under the streams. The massage was superb, filling us with a sense of harmony and dissolution.
Soon it was time for lunch, where, at our request, a vegetable soup was served, with fruit for dessert. This would be the last meal of the day, as the second ceremony awaited us in the evening—a ceremony I had high hopes for, so I tried to observe all the necessary nuances.
Strangely enough, after lunch, I felt a sense of inner calm and confidence about the successful outcome of the evening event. By late afternoon, a thunderstorm hit, accompanied by lightning, thunder, and heavy rain.
The rain lasted long enough to test the durability of the local palm-thatched roofing. To my surprise, the structure withstood the weather challenges with honor.
Meanwhile, time continued its steady march, and everything was ready for the upcoming ceremony. Kerosene lamps and candles were lit, mattresses laid out, and basins handed out. The beginning was nearly identical to the first ceremony, except this time, the Ashaninka shaman appeared in his authentic shamanic attire—a true indigenous headdress made of feathers. He smiled and, in my opinion, was in excellent spirits.
And so, the ceremony began. I requested a double portion of Ayahuasca (as did my neighbor, Dima), and after downing it in one go, I waited. About half an hour later, some participants had already begun their first purging. The icaros began. This time, the apprentice shaman seated to my left took the lead, followed by the Ashaninka shaman to my right, each taking turns and setting the ceremony’s intended course. The apprentice’s voice was somewhat sharp and slightly nasal, leading me to form a somewhat biased opinion about his true shamanic power. In contrast, the Maestro’s vocal qualities were beyond praise: his tone was soothing, confident, and powerful. Nevertheless, I managed to stay fully conscious and aware until the ceremony’s second phase—the «blowing»—which, to be honest, was not part of my plans. After the tobacco action, Dima immediately leaned into his basin, filling it halfway, which greatly surprised me since the amount of Ayahuasca he consumed clearly did not match the volume expelled. Enviously impressed, I waited for a similar occurrence within myself, which did eventually happen, though on a much smaller scale. But I was grateful for it, as the vomiting process is likely a necessary step for cleansing the body, opening a channel for the Ayahuasca Spirit to enter. And that’s when things truly began…
It’s challenging to describe what happened to me, partly because words are a product of the very mind I was trying to liberate during the ceremony. But I’ll try nonetheless.
The apprentice launched into a «battle anthem» titled «I Am a Shaman» (I understood the title immediately), shaking maracas in rhythm. I felt as if I was pinned to the mat, unable to move. A massive force emanated from him, making me realize I had been wrong in my initial assessment of his abilities. Under such energetic influence, all my rational thoughts evaporated like fog in the wind. Gradually, I was transported to a new dimension where time and space ceased to exist. I was engulfed by a stream of information in which I could only capture fragments of clearly otherworldly images. My humiliated and insulted mind still attempted to impose itself on these unfamiliar visions, but the Ayahuasca Spirit effortlessly blocked its pitiful associative attempts with ever-new, unknown informational streams. Moreover, the mind’s reaction speed left much to be desired, and it eventually resigned itself to the inevitable, bowing out. Immediately, a delightful scene from some unknown world appeared: against a pinkish-violet background, a vision of a children’s playground (something like swings, carousels, and slides) filled with extraordinary living beings emerged. I wouldn’t say they resembled humans, but it was clear that these were children. Time and space were utterly absent here, so the instant movement of objects and subjects across different planes raised no questions. Gravity was similarly defied, and up and down were left behind in the rational past. I was overwhelmed by a tangible flow of Harmony that permeated this magical world, and then suddenly, a very real image of my wife appeared, eerily reminiscent of the way well-known Bulgakov characters materialized on Sadovaya Street. Without delving into the backstory of our harmonious family relationships, I’ll just say briefly: I married out of passionate love and have never regretted that impulsive decision.
So, in this somewhat unusual setting, we held hands and began to ascend toward a source of golden light, represented by a small solar disk. We approached it slowly and smoothly along a path shimmering with multicolored lights. From the «sun» emanated such powerful energy of warmth and kindness that it became evident that this was the very spring of Love that fills the world, every particle, every atom. Simply put, this was (is, and always will be!) God, whose spiritual essence is inherent in every person, but, unfortunately, as we grow up, we usually forget this in the hustle and bustle of worldly pursuits, and our best feelings remain in a state of lethargic sleep.
But I digress slightly, as we had already approached a close distance to God and heard some very simple words. They resonated in our hearts as a reminder of something we often forget in our daily lives—the meaning of life, which is an unchanging truth. This is, of course, Love, in its broadest definition and understanding. I already knew this before, but receiving practical confirmation is invaluable. So I was utterly happy and in complete euphoria. The meaning of the children’s imagery followed by the subsequent scenes became clear. The children here symbolize the beautiful qualities we lose on the path to adulthood, while our duet was a particular embodiment of Love, something we should never forget. Truly, everything is transient—Love is eternal. Only by loving do you truly understand. Remember the beautiful words of the Fox to the Little Prince: «Here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.»
For a while, I emerged from this elevated state, returning to the ceremonial space. I was startled awake by Lena’s cries, clearly frightened while in a trance. But that was just the beginning. The «maloca» then filled with the snarling of some fierce beast, barking of a dog, and hissing and meowing of an angry cat. These sounds were so realistic that if someone unfamiliar with such experiences were present, they would at least wet their pants in fear. To be honest, a person in a normal state simply could not produce such authentic animal sounds. As I found out later, Master Juan had continued the ceremony, working individually with each participant.
The shaman quickly calmed the animals by reciting magical incantations. As I understood it, these were the spirits of animals that had possessed Lena.
The shaman continued his «rounds» like a Chief Physician (which, in essence, he was), examining the Ayahuasca tasters. Some cried, some laughed, some leaned into their basins. Eventually, it was my turn. I was in a semi-conscious state with my eyes closed when the shaman approached. A powerful energy radiated from him, instantly filling me with warmth, making me aware that the shaman was performing a healing session on me. I was deeply grateful and couldn’t stop mentally praising his skill, confident that my «words» would be understood.
After this therapy, I again slipped into the unconscious realm, visiting various mysterious places, though unfortunately, I forgot much of it. Describing such experiences is incredibly difficult, as once again, it’s our mind—the very instrument trying to interpret the events—that acts as the limiting factor. So, although the spiritual message felt richer during the ceremony, how to capture these wonderful transformations remains a mystery to me. Perhaps one must be enlightened even in ordinary life to fully perceive the world.
Throughout the ceremony, songs of icaros were sung by the shaman and his assistants, accompanied by harmonicas, flutes, and some exotic instruments. The performers were professionals, and considering their strategic placement around the «maloca,» it created an incredibly harmonious «performance,» perfectly supporting the awakening of the spiritual essence within each of us.
Summing up the ceremony, I’d like to note the excellent teamwork of the whole group in achieving the main goal: awakening the sleepers, offering a glimpse of one’s Divine essence, and fostering a sense of Harmony with the world around us. These are, of course, just my impressions, but I believe many of the ceremony’s participants would agree with me.
After the ceremony, I felt slightly dizzy (probably due to the lingering effects of the Ayahuasca), but the euphoria from what I had experienced outweighed any minor physical discomforts. Exhausted but happy, I returned to my «quarters» and immediately fell asleep.
January 11, 2011
My mood wasn’t great in the morning, but when I went downstairs and saw familiar faces of spiritual seekers, the discomfort dissipated. I felt fully better when I saw Sveta’s eyes, glowing and radiating such positive energy that it could be felt on a physical level. It was the very look I wanted to see after the first ceremony. I immediately told her this, and she didn’t disagree. You can’t hide such a state—you can only share it. So I instantly realized that my negative experience during the first ceremony with Benhamin was entirely my own doing, and under different circumstances, all the distracting factors would have simply been neutralized. There was no doubting the shaman’s power. It meant I just needed to work on myself and take a stronger dose. Dima echoed this sentiment, noting that any experience is a step towards purification and correction. I had nothing to argue against and, already in high spirits, bought gifts for my Russian relatives from the indigenous vendors who had set up shop near the cafe. The theme of Ayahuasca visions naturally accompanied each of their items.
Today’s program included a visit to the local Pucallpa zoo and a trip to «Yarinacocha» Lake, this time via a different route. But our departure was delayed as we waited for Benhamin, who had promised to come to the hotel today. After a while, he arrived with his family and started discussing something with Kostya (probably details of the upcoming ceremony). Members of our group also took the opportunity to chat with the shaman, seeking interpretations of their visions or asking Benhamin to prepare medicines for their ailments. The curandero patiently answered questions and promised to have remedies ready by the next day. After the meeting, Konstantin informed us that during the next ceremony, the shaman and his assistants would be working with each participant individually. This news pleased me greatly and set a positive tone for the day.
After this fruitful conversation, we headed to the zoo, where the big cats were the undeniable stars. Jaguars—just incredible!
I photographed tirelessly, naturally hopping over the barrier to avoid the cage bars ruining the shots. The pictures turned out beautifully. The other zoo inhabitants didn’t disappoint either, and the overall impression was fantastic. We were also quite surprised by the absence of Russian-language inscriptions in the gazebo on the wooden bridge over the overgrown pond. English, Spanish, and even German languages were represented with inscriptions like «we were here,» but not a word in Russian!
After our interaction with the animal kingdom, we stopped at a lakeside restaurant at Yarinacocha for lunch, ordering delightful fish dishes and chilled «Camu-camu» juice, which I rated very highly. It was around 6 PM when we set out for a boat ride on the lake, and we were rewarded with a stunning sunset, views of the leisurely riverside life of the indigenous people, and playful dolphins splashing in the water. We returned in the dark, enchanted by the numerous lights of Pucallpa. Romantic vibes filled the air, especially for Lena, who decided to take a swim in the middle of the lake, which she did without hesitation, changing clothes in full view and jumping into the water. Luckily, the piranhas weren’t hungry that evening, so the adventure ended safely with the romantic swimmer being pulled back aboard. The rest of the evening was uneventful: mototaxis, hotel, sleep.
January 12, 2011
Today is special—it marks the end of the spiritual part of our stay here, with the final Ayahuasca ceremony taking place this evening. Konstantin suggested we go back to the familiar lake, this time for piranha fishing. The idea was met with enthusiasm, and almost everyone joined. Soon, the boat was cutting through the waves of the lake (with a decent wind today), and the anglers were ready for the «piranha hunt.» We turned into a small channel, where everything was calm and quiet. As we moved the boat forward, we spotted sloths perched on trees, but as soon as the viewing angle changed slightly, they simply vanished, as if they had never been there. So, photographing them didn’t work out. As for the main objective of the visit, we docked by the shore and, without leaving the boat, began fishing. Four enthusiasts volunteered. A special mention is due for the technical side of the fishing gear. The «rods» were 1.5-meter sticks made from local shrubbery, with fishing lines of about 0.2–0.5 mm thick (the kind we use in villages for curtain rods), and the hooks were serious business. There was, of course, no float. For bait, we used pieces of raw meat purchased at the local market. The fishing process was straightforward: cut a couple of centimeters of meat, hook it, and cast. I took a spot at the bow of the boat, while the others decided not to leave their places. The bite came quickly, a tug, and the first fish was mine. It turned out to be a small, classic piranha with impressive teeth. Soon, the other anglers also caught one fish each. Given the carnivorous tendencies of the local fauna, it’s clear that anyone with even a small wound should avoid swimming in this lake. The fishing was excellent, but our selfish hobby didn’t sit well with the rest of the group, so after catching another flesh-eater each, it was decided (on our behalf) to wrap things up. We, of course, released the entire catch. Fishing with rods isn’t held in high regard by the locals—they prefer more radical methods. For us, fishing is a romantic pastime, but here it’s a source of food and income. Hence, the methods differ.
Pleased, we returned to shore, making sure to visit the lakeside «Anaconda» restaurant, likely named after its signature dish. We had a good time, enjoying delicious vegetable salads. Anything more substantial was discouraged, as the ceremony required fasting. A few glasses of juice for dessert rounded off the pleasant meal. On the way back to the hotel, we bought some fruit for dinner. We spent the hours leading up to the ceremony in different ways, but by 7:00 PM, we all met at the entrance, ready to make our pilgrimage to the familiar house in the village. This time, we arrived without any mishaps and quite quickly. And so, the fourth and final ceremony.
The «maloca» was immaculately clean, the mattresses neatly arranged in two rows, and the basins were quickly handed out. Benhamin was already in place, and the Ayahuasca was ready. I felt calm and determined, confident that this time everything would go well. To be sure, I brought along a cup of the right size, intending to drink like there’s no tomorrow.
Meanwhile, the Shipibo shaman was already chanting over the Ayahuasca, and soon the cup made its rounds. The men in our group immediately took a double dose to get the full effect, while the women opted for a single portion.
As for the ceremony itself, today there was harmonious multi-voiced singing of a very high standard, and individual work with each participant. I noticed the Shipibo woman, one of the shaman’s wives, singing icaros for my neighbors—indigenous people. I waited for my turn with anticipation, and soon she sat at arm’s length from me and began to sing something. Up to that point, I had been unsuccessfully trying to purge the Ayahuasca to reach a state of cleansing and spiritual openness, but as soon as the shaman’s wife started singing, I felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and I could no longer hold back despite the seemingly inopportune moment.
After a couple of attempts, I thoroughly cleansed myself and sat cross-legged across from her. Suddenly, I was drenched in sweat as if I were in a steam room. I was instantly soaked from head to toe. The shamaness radiated powerful healing energy, and I immediately realized that I was undergoing a purification process. After sitting for a while longer under the healer’s song, I was so weakened that I simply collapsed onto the mattress. Sometime later, the Shipibo shaman himself crawled over (literally) and, while conversing with the nearby indigenous people, began explaining something to me, from which I understood that he was asking if I comprehended what was happening to me. In my state, I was barely thinking and simply shook my head. Seeing that I was out of it, the shaman performed a «blowing» ritual, directing tobacco smoke onto my crown and into my palms before crawling off to the next «patient.» A flood of visions overwhelmed me—so intense that I couldn’t keep up with the rapid succession of images, so I can only mention their bright colors and unusual forms. Eventually, my mind, clearly struggling to make sense of this «chaos,» requested «political asylum.» The plea went something like: «I refuse to participate in this ‘nonsense’; do what you want, but I’ll just wait this out somewhere quiet.» The suggested «temporary residence» was a simple seashell. The mind only asked not to tightly close its shell, so it could occasionally peek out at the events. After that, there were many more fantastical visions, but none too vivid, so they quickly faded from memory. The singing of the icaros was rich and varied, facilitating swift transitions from one state to another. I would slip into a trance, then emerge, until Konstantin announced that the bus was already waiting and it was time to pack up…
