Text by Sergey, a participant in the shamanic expedition that took place in Peru in March 2013.
Let’s skip over the challenges of the long flight from Moscow to Amsterdam to Lima and the brief stopover in the Peruvian capital (there’s plenty of content describing that already) and jump straight into the city of Tarapoto, closer to the ceremonial events that were the highlight of this journey.
This time (unlike my first experience where I was initiated into the world of Ayahuasca by shamans Juan and Benhamin), our curandero was Jorge Gonzalez Ramirez, a well-known and respected figure in Peru. Currently, Jorge practices healing using tinctures made from various plants and herbs, many of which are grown in his own garden in the outskirts of Tarapoto. Of course, he also conducts international Ayahuasca ceremonies, helping people enter deep trance states to free themselves from «mental» illnesses. I had only known Jorge from Dmitry’s stories (who introduced me to this incredible world) and from information found on roninio.com.
We had four ceremonies planned. And so, I found myself in the small town of Tarapoto, arriving late in the evening with the «expedition group.» The weather in the upper Amazon jungle was hot and humid, despite the late hour. Two minibuses met us since the group was quite large—nineteen people (including Konstantin, the group leader). Without unnecessary words, except for the traditional «buenas noches!» for that time of day, the local drivers helped load our luggage onto the roofs of their vehicles, and we were off! Gradually, the paved road turned into a dirt path, and ten minutes later, we arrived at our destination. The place was a semi-wild jungle, which added a primal charm to our journey.
The group was split up: eight of us stayed at point «A,» at the frontlines, while the others were taken (or sent) somewhere farther away. We settled in almost complete darkness, using flashlights to avoid getting lost. We stayed in bungalow-style huts, two people in each. In front of ours (which I shared with Dmitry), there seemed to be a pool. And indeed, when we turned on the outdoor lighting upon arriving in our «apartment,» there it was. The room was sparsely furnished but had all the essentials for a comfortable stay: two beds, a table, two wooden shelves for belongings, a sink with a mirror, a toilet, and a shower area. In the corner, almost near the ceiling, there was an exotic kerosene lamp on a small shelf. Its purpose seemed multi-functional: for power outages, as a Diogenes-like lantern, or simply as a reminder of different projections of the Light source. Dima immediately went to sleep, while I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the local water feature and enjoyed a swim in the pleasantly cool water accompanied by the sounds of cicadas. Then, I followed the example of my experienced companion and fell asleep instantly.
I woke up early, around seven in the morning local time. It was just getting light. Within two minutes, I had left the shelter, eager to see in the daylight where «fate’s foot» had brought us. The view was magnificent despite the overcast weather. Right in front of the hut was the aforementioned fairly large pool. Slightly to the left was another larger water body meant for the local ducks. They belonged to the local «ornithologist» responsible for maintaining the «hotel» order while also engaging in poultry farming to keep busy. The depth of that water body was shallow, so the local dog would occasionally cool off there, sitting in the water for a long time with its tongue out and neck extended, somewhat resembling the Loch Ness monster. But I’m getting ahead of myself; at that moment, besides the water features, my attention was drawn to a small waterfall that fed these pools. Its rhythmic murmur, accompanied by the many voices of birds, was simply mesmerizing and tangibly conveyed the harmonious natural mood. It’s also worth mentioning the surrounding greenery: exotic trees, shrubs, and flowers that seamlessly fit into the tropical morning landscape. The picture was splendid.
I immediately went back to grab my camera, wanting to capture all the beauty I was seeing, fully aware that any photo would only be a poor imitation. Along the way, I discovered a nest with chicks right on our veranda, which the parents diligently visited. I continued exploring behind the hut, heading toward exotic shrubs that turned out to be orange and mandarin trees upon closer inspection. The fruits were in various stages of ripeness, from bright green to yellow-orange. The ripest ones had fallen to the ground, and I quickly tasted them. Delicious! Just then, the «guards» appeared—little brown-black monkeys. They cautiously eyed the uninvited guest and, assessing the damage, quickly retreated into the foliage to tally potential losses. A bit further on, I discovered a mountain stream, marking the boundary of our property. Beyond lay the true, untamed jungle. Looking around, I saw coconut palms with massive fruits high up, as well as their smaller relatives bearing heavy clusters of green bananas within arm’s reach. Returning to the bungalow for some water, I found that Dima was still asleep. So, I went to visit other group members who were staying about fifty meters away on a slight elevation. On the way, I encountered the famous Ayahuasca vine entwining a tree and its companion shrub, Chakruna, growing nearby. Climbing up an improvised stone staircase, I saw another cluster of fruit trees: starfruit, cacao, and mango. Some cacao fruits even grew directly from the lower part of the trunk, which was a complete revelation for me.
I found the group on an open veranda engaged in a tea ceremony led by Andrey. This was far from an ordinary event; it was a ritual performed according to all the rules of Eastern traditions. Andrey had thoughtfully brought everything needed for the tea ceremony: a pack of green tea, a small teapot, a set of tiny porcelain cups with special saucers, and of course, a thermos. After a few careful steps of pouring the brewed tea (Andrey knew the sequence perfectly), we took our first sips of the delightful jasmine-like drink. The tea was sipped in complete silence, partly inspired by the morning serenity but mostly due to the silent mood set by the master himself, who encouraged us to savor these wonderful moments of the present without unnecessary words. After this harmonious process concluded, everyone felt a pleasant relaxation. Andrey called it tranquility. This was how my first day in this beautiful place began. I can confidently say that the shamanic ceremonial process started right from the morning, and my description of the local nature is not just for show.
Later, around 10 a.m., we went to have breakfast at point «B,» where the rest of our group had been taken during the night. Their residence was three hundred meters up the dirt road. Their huts were more civilized, but we had a pool and wilder surroundings. Although there were interesting sights here as well—some peculiar yellow-pink flowers, resembling braided crocodile teeth, hung in clusters from a plant that looked like bamboo with split ficus leaves. Right at the entrance to the dining hall, a royal rose bloomed majestically, flanked by short, loyal subjects armed with oval yellow-red pomegranates. Not photographing this remarkable company would have been a crime, so Max (a great guy) and I couldn’t resist capturing the royal entourage.
The local kitchen-dining area was spacious enough, though one could also sit outdoors if desired. The cooks and waitstaff were two Peruvian women who didn’t speak a word of Russian but knew their jobs well. However, the language barrier was almost overcome by the second day since remembering the names of a few dishes in Spanish wasn’t difficult. Breakfast included a vegetable salad, an omelet with corn tortillas, lime-lemon for sauce, coffee or tea as desired, and of course, freshly squeezed juice—pineapple or mango. In the hot and humid climate, even a single breakfast like that was enough for the entire day. You only wanted to drink constantly.
After the meal, Kostya suggested we go to a waterfall located not far from Tarapoto in the mountains. We got there fairly quickly, stocking up on water and fruit along the way. Just before the climb to the waterfall, it started raining, but it didn’t stop us from reaching the waterfall within ten minutes and swimming in the pool it formed, as well as feeling the power of the water flow by standing under the streams. We returned to the base around 2 p.m. Naturally, there was no lunch since the ceremony required fasting, so we made do with fruit. After that, we took a short nap, and at 6 p.m., minibuses arrived to take us to the Ayahuasca ceremony with the famous Jorge. At 6:30 p.m., it was already dusk here, and an hour later, it was completely dark. On the way, just like in Pucallpa, I saw simple scenes through the bus window reminiscent of «luncheon on the grass,» with the only difference being that it was dinner. Generally, in small Peruvian towns, the population usually comes out of their homes in the evenings. Everyone sits properly at tables outside their houses and enjoys leisurely dinners while chatting. It’s an idyllic scene. Imagining something like this back home is nearly impossible, especially given the priority placed on alcohol at similar gatherings. Back home, such sessions usually end with drunken songs, brawls, and heavy morning hangovers.
1st Ayahuasca Ceremony
We arrived at Jorge’s house, where the metal gate had the name «House of the Heart» written in the indigenous language and something like «Workers of the world, unite!» in Spanish. A man who looked like a manager opened the door. And there we were, at the entrance to the ceremonial octagonal house I’d seen many times in photos. Almost immediately, the doors opened wide, and I saw the Teacher himself—a short man with very expressive eyes that radiated a spectrum of emotions. Jorge greeted all the seekers of the unreal, embracing each one as if giving a blessing for the journey ahead. I won’t describe the ceremonial space—its interior and details have long been well-known. The mats and buckets for cleansing were already in place, ready to participate in the ceremony. The group gathered in the center for a group photo, which was taken by Jorge’s assistant. After a few brief instructions from Kostya (about where things were and what to do and not do during the ceremony), Jorge took the floor. He specifically encouraged us not to be afraid, to relax, and enjoy the experience. His eyes gleamed mischievously, and a barely noticeable smile flashed across his face. He also suggested we think about Life during this ceremony, setting the direction for our journey into other Worlds. And then, the familiar plastic bottle of Ayahuasca was in Jorge’s hands. After some final words, Jorge’s assistant distributed the drink in cups to each participant, adjusting the amount based on the client’s preferences. I ordered a double dose, having learned from previous experiences of under-consumption. The drink tasted as usual—slightly bitter but quite decent, even chilled. The drinking part was over, the lights went out. Let’s go!
After about five minutes of silence, Jorge’s drum kicked in with a very confident and expressive rhythm, seemingly driving out all the useless, artificially ingrained qualities of the mind acquired over the course of humanity’s evolution. I lay pinned to the mat, observing the changes within myself. But they were slow to come. After the steady beat of the drum, a soothing harmonica played, inviting relaxation and the release of doubts. I couldn’t manage it. My mind was on guard and refused to relax, drawing associative parallels with the fleeting images that started appearing, pulling knowledge from my own baggage compartment. Then bells chimed with a steady silver sound that should have shattered all rational arguments and broken through mental barricades. But it wasn’t that simple! The whole time, I was artificially trying to reach a trance state, which some members of our group had already achieved, but something was holding me back. My mind clung to every distraction to avoid diving into the unknown, evoking a strong sense of fear. Jorge began to sing icaros. The timbre of his voice was very pleasant and mesmerizing. Then the deep voice of Konstantin joined in, creating a duet that sounded mystically inspiring. Many participants in the ceremony were undergoing cleansing vomiting processes and experiencing their states in a special spiritual world. Some laughed, some cried, some begged to stop the torment caused by rising fears. Jorge, without leaving his spot, fully controlled the situation and came to the aid of those needing support. It seemed to me that he was dispelling negative experiences with special black arrows while making whistling sounds. I felt like I was briefly falling into a void without visions. That’s how I held out almost until the end of the ceremony. But when Kostya said, «Sit up,» formally signaling the process was ending, I began a massive vomiting episode. The volume expelled was several times the amount I’d drunk. Where did it all come from, considering I’d barely eaten anything since morning? After such cleansing, I immediately sank somewhere, and as a result, had difficulty perceiving reality, being fully absorbed in another. But it was time to get up, head out, and board the waiting buses. I was still in a trance and couldn’t break out of it. My head couldn’t think straight, and my legs buckled as I tried to stand, so I just sat on the mat and told Kostya I couldn’t go anywhere. Kostya asked someone to help me, casually remarking that «Sergey is a strong guy and should manage.» His words hit my masculine pride, and I got up without help and followed the others like a zombie, occasionally vomiting again along the way. In a semi-conscious state, I made it back home, stumbled through the darkness to the hut, and collapsed on the bed still fully dressed. I didn’t have the strength to undress.
I woke up feeling slightly worn out but in a good mood, realizing that physical cleansing was necessary for entering the world of Ayahuasca. As for its delayed onset, that’s an individual matter and can’t be generalized. So, the vomiting process was like taking a shower before entering a steam room. As for a real shower, I took one shortly after a mandatory morning dip in the pool. The cool water in the pool and almost cold shower revived me. The natural surroundings helped as well.
2nd Ayahuasca Ceremony
The second ceremony took place two days later, so I had time to rest and was fully prepared for the second round. Everything started the same way: a bus at 6 p.m., heading to Jorge. Nothing had changed there either, except this ceremony was dedicated to the theme of Love. Again, I drank a double dose without fear or hesitation. Dima (who had moved closer to me this time) asked for a triple dose, astonishing everyone around. I waited for the effects to begin. It didn’t happen quickly, and the transition wasn’t very intense, but eventually, I found myself in Wonderland. I saw the structure of worlds.
The worlds appeared as some oval forms filled with transparent liquid, in which mosaic patterns of various shapes were visible. The ovals were mounted on a vertical axis connected to a cogwheel. The cogwheel itself was just floating in the air, but at that moment, it didn’t seem unusual. These conditional worlds interconnected via a kinetic mechanism—axis to wheel. This remarkable structure rotated, from the wheel to the movement of colorful figures, resembling a complex carousel or, more accurately, a clockwork mechanism. The sight was mesmerizing (from the flawless precision and stability of the structure) and somewhat melancholic (from the realization of one’s belonging to the smallest elements of this grand structure). I was shown the world I was currently in, and I instantly found myself within it. The structure immediately vanished, but fear appeared. It was triggered by anxiety over the lives of relatives, somehow connected to my participation in the ceremony. That’s the kind of negative information our minds feed us to survive in extreme conditions. And I was to blame as well—the images were somewhat blurry and unclear because I was focused on the vomiting process, which wasn’t happening. Remembering the awkward end of the first ceremony, I subconsciously set up certain expectations to avoid looking ridiculous again. It was pure posturing, just like all thoughts about proper behavior during the ceremony and worries about being judged by others if societal norms and expectations were violated. So, the false identity woven by the mind’s web played a role here too.
As for the vomiting, I didn’t experience it this time, possibly because Ayahuasca, having done its cleansing work during the first ceremony by getting rid of years of accumulated junk, had cleared out its «living space» and decided to stay for a while. The end of the ceremony turned into a dance performance to Jorge’s drum solo. Some participants expressed the incoming and outgoing energy flows they’d absorbed during the ceremony through dance. Summing up this second round from a competitive perspective, I must declare a draw.
3rd Ayahuasca Ceremony
Two days later, it was time for the third ceremony. I had high hopes for this one since the previous two left mixed impressions. On the one hand, the atmosphere was good, the ceremonies were well-organized, and other participants gained valuable experience. But personally, I wanted something more—something overwhelming that would sweep away all distractions like smoke from white apple trees. And so, we were back at the House of the Heart. A double dose was consumed. My mood was determined. The lights went out, complete darkness. While pondering the optimal timing for entering another state, the process suddenly began on its own, without my participation. The last fragments of memory noted that Jorge hadn’t even started the instrumental and vocal elements of the shamanic ritual yet. But I was already confidently caught by snake-like beings with shimmering skin fragments who politely invited me on an exciting journey to other worlds. The beginning of the transition was accompanied by sounds resembling beads pouring and some short signals of a very specific frequency. They were similar to a car horn. I remembered them well and would recognize them if I heard them again. Before entering the realm of the surreal, I was offered to choose personal settings for the journey with a whole range of functions: specifically, I could increase memory capacity, speed of movement, and select different levels of perception. Alternatively, I could leave everything as default and proceed with the standard settings. I chose the latter, not wanting to take risks. I believed that changing the settings would also alter my «personality» upon returning, which at that moment was very important to me. Though what exactly is a personality and what tools are used to define it remain unknown. Besides, what kind of personality does a person have if their behavior changes multiple times even in one day? But let’s not get sidetracked.
A guiding Voice accompanied me, enlightening me. It was feminine, pleasant, and confident, with a tone marked by irony and healthy cynicism combined with intelligence and boundless Knowledge. This perfectly matched my worldview, so I immediately trusted it and mentally said, «Lead on!» like the characters in the film «Hello, I’m Your Aunt!» And then it began! The informational flow swept me away on a very unusual journey to such «reserved» places that can’t even be imagined in a normal state. And how could you? Associative images are needed for our mental perception to grasp things, and if they aren’t there, everything is classified as «spam» and discarded or perceived as a threat to our safety under the principle, «if it’s unclear, it must be bad!» But I managed to capture some things. These were figures and faces of some divine entities, very similar to characters from Pablo Amaringo’s paintings. Their crowns and royal robes gleamed with magnificence, as if emphasizing their superiority over common folk. None of them spoke a word, their faces were impassive. Some of the royal figures moved along a miniature railroad in individual open carriages. The speed of movement was minimal, as if underscoring the significance of the current moment.
The pomp continued with golden gates before which I found myself standing alone, but I flatly refused to enter them. After this, the images began changing rapidly like in a kaleidoscope. Each time a new scene appeared, it was explained to me with humor and clarity who’s who and what’s what. The change of scenery was lengthy. I saw a lot, but unfortunately, remembered almost nothing. Yet I grasped the essence of things rather quickly while in a trance, even understanding them (unlike Kant). But the guiding Voice clearly told me that my comprehension and any memory of these «places» would vanish immediately upon returning to the normal state. It was like saying, «Look while you can.» I protested silently, trying to bring at least something from the experience back with me, but was politely refused. Then the scene changed sharply. I saw a graveyard with tombstones for all my close relatives, including my own. I wasn’t thrilled. But then a wind picked up, quickly covering the graves with «dust of ages» in fast-forward. You could see the landscape changing rapidly, and soon the cemetery had become a flat expanse of land. A moment later, I saw a small green sprout pushing its way toward the light and quickly turning into the familiar Ayahuasca vine, filling all visible space. This obviously confirmed the dialectic of transitional periods and the description of the birth of the Ayahuasca plant itself (from a book on Pablo Amaringo’s famous paintings). Such remarkable events unfolded during the ceremony. As a bonus, I was shown the experiences and visions of others in the group, but in very quick succession, again with a reminder not to expect to remember what I saw. With that, the «ceremonial» part was over, and I didn’t enter a trance state again, waking up completely. I lay on the mat feeling a sense of accomplishment, relaxed and satisfied, having enjoyed myself. A kind of erotic postscript)) Finally, it happened! Thank you, Jorge, thank you, Ayahuasca!
I spent the concluding part of the ceremony in a regular state, enjoying the Knowledge gained, even if only on a subconscious level. The important thing was simply being in other worlds; the hard disk recordings are probably still there. The main thing is to find the decoding program). The ceremony ended with the traditional dancing to the drum, only with more participants this time. The customary post-ceremony debriefing took place in a warm, friendly atmosphere. Almost everyone was satisfied. As with previous ceremonies, my senses were still not functioning at full capacity, leading to delayed perception of the world around me. For example, there were vision issues (light from lanterns trailed behind my head movements, not staying in one place). My hearing was also delayed in processing information, and my motor system struggled to fulfill its functions, making movement difficult. My speech, as revealed in a brief interview, resembled General Secretary Brezhnev’s speeches in the later stages of his rule. But these were all minor inconveniences compared to the positivity gained. Then it was back on the bus and off to sleep.
4th Ayahuasca Ceremony
The fourth ceremony took place the next day. That’s just how circumstances played out. And Kostya announced that this time the Ayahuasca would be different—«black.» What that actually meant was unclear, but even the color description seemed ominous. I also felt there wasn’t enough recovery time. But the final ceremony had to happen, come what may, like a game scheduled in any weather.
And so, Jorge took a photo of each participant in the closing ceremony and thanked everyone. He generally had a lot of fondness for our group. This time, I decided not to take a heavy dose, settling for a symbolic tasting of the Ayahuasca, which, by the way, tasted almost identical to the previous one, and the color was definitely not black. Many others also reduced their usual doses, probably because they hadn’t fully recovered.
During the entire ceremony, I had only one brief vision, but the beauty of the scene was memorable. I was standing on the top floor of a skyscraper, on a balcony decorated with decorative wooden grilles (very similar to a pergola-gazebo in a garden). It was a late summer evening. The sun had already set below the horizon, and the sky was painted in violet-yellow tones. Suddenly, I saw a descending rope-cable with a pyramid-shaped basket woven from the same ropes at the end. It stopped right in front of me. Like, «Get in, and we’ll go up!» It didn’t take long to convince me, and I didn’t resist, understanding that this was exactly how it was supposed to be. Just like that and no other way. How and where the ascent ended, I can’t say, but the mood was uplifting. It’s probably possible to attempt to decipher the set of symbolic images, but what can words convey when such beauty is around? This is something you just have to experience.
Moreover, it was just a brief moment of immersion, and the rest of the time during the ceremony, I was simply in a relaxed state, thoroughly enjoying the instrumental and vocal part of the program. In a more «sober» state (compared to previous ceremonies), I fully appreciated Jorge’s virtuoso performance on various instruments, namely: the German harmonica, indigenous zither, Jivaro drum, and Australian bells. The singing of the icaros was also of very high quality, as was the artistic whistling. Kostya’s addition of a meditative bass register to the vocal performance was very fitting. The duet sounded really great. I especially want to highlight the drum solo. With such playing, Jorge wouldn’t be out of place in the company of Ian Paice, John Bonham, and Lee Kerslake. The ceremony concluded with an improvised dance program, in which almost everyone present participated. Positive energy was felt on a physical level. It was great!
Then came the inevitable farewell scene, mutual good wishes, and everyone went «home.» Although the next day, one could meet with Jorge again for individual sessions, but that was by personal choice to address specific individual issues. Personally, my problems didn’t seem of cosmic scale, so my interaction with Jorge ended right after the ceremony. But I hope we’ll meet again, or as they say, I’ll be back!
But the story wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the main component of all ceremonies. Ayahuasca, like any other plant, cannot grow without soil and roots. «…But to stand, I must cling to my roots!» Like the famous song says. I want to emphasize the crucial role of the local flora. The ideal can’t be separated from the soil—magnetic connections are broken. I didn’t say that, but this expression perfectly explains why only in Peru, in the Amazon jungle, on the plant’s historical homeland, is it truly possible to conduct Ayahuasca ceremonies. Only charlatans can claim otherwise. Their motives are clear, but it’s a shame for those who are deceived.
So, about the local nature. Here’s a brief sketch from life.
Meals, as I mentioned at the beginning of my story, including breakfasts and dinners, took place in a dining area a short distance from our «quarters.» To get there, you had to walk along a narrow dirt road surrounded by trees (some fruit-bearing, some not). During the day, it became a routine event after three or four trips, but this time, I had to return alone after dinner in the complete darkness of the southern night. Naturally, there wasn’t a single streetlight on the road. I walked slowly, admiring the starry sky. Here, it’s vastly different from what we see in our latitudes. Orion is particularly beautiful. It’s almost directly overhead, so although it seems much smaller than at home, it’s fully equipped with excellent «graphics,» unlike our view, which only appears on the horizon and for a short time. Betelgeuse and Rigel are much closer together, and Orion’s chaste belt no longer seems insurmountable. The Great Dog with its brightest star, Sirius, is visible in all its details. You just can’t see such a detailed Dog back home. And the small Hare is nearly impossible to spot in our latitudes. Here, it peacefully coexists with the enormous Dog. As for Taurus and the Pleiades, they’re almost the same as back home, except the bull seems less aggressive. Perhaps he’s relaxed by the tropical climate. But there’s one constellation you definitely can’t see back home, and that’s the Southern Cross, which is depicted on the flags of several countries. The Cross was truly impressive, made up of very bright stars. So, while observing these magnificent scenes, with my eyes fixed on the sky, I walked about fifty meters on «autopilot.» Then, slightly lowering my gaze, I suddenly saw nearby, just off the road, other «earthbound stars.» These were silvery-yellowish, fairly large, constantly twinkling lights. The flickering came from the direction of the nearest trees. The sight was perfect for describing the «wandering lights» in Faust. At first, I didn’t know what it could be, but then I quickly remembered that during the day, I had seen small musmuki monkeys in the same spot. Their eyes are very similar to lemur eyes and glow in the dark. Perhaps this spot was their place for conducting some «ritual» ceremonies, given the number of twinkling lights, the gathering of monkeys was quite large. Now, add to the starry (both celestial and terrestrial) shine the diverse sound accompaniment of southern cicadas against the backdrop of the night’s silence, and the scene becomes simply impressive.
Of course, the monkeys scattered as I approached, diminishing the conceptual experience, but by the pool of our «wigwam,» I saw fireflies in the grass, which I even tried to photograph. It didn’t work. I’d only seen fireflies in my childhood, but here, you could enjoy them to your heart’s content. Everything I saw made a profound impression on me. I couldn’t sleep for a long time, reveling in the Truth of Life.
Another memorable moment was a hike to the waterfall on one of the «off» days. Kostya warned in advance that the journey wouldn’t be easy, so a significant part of our group immediately declined the tempting offer, knowing that Kostya’s «not too difficult» should be interpreted as extreme. And that’s exactly what it turned out to be. The route started right from our place of residence. After walking about a kilometer, we encountered a barrier and some kind of border post where we were required to register in a logbook (name, year of birth, email). Two hundred meters later, following the muddy trail, we found an obstacle in the form of a mountain stream. We had to take off our shoes and wade across. The path then split into two; after some deliberation, we chose the wider one. After half an hour of wandering through the jungle, we realized the trail had ended. We came across some structures, huts, and even some sort of ritual composition made of wood and stone, but it was undeniable that we had taken the wrong path. We returned to the fork and chose the correct route. The path was quite challenging. Steep ascents alternated with equally steep descents. The ground was slippery (after the rains), plus the humidity and temperature were high. I was instantly drenched in sweat. The winding mountain stream frequently appeared along the way, requiring us to cross it again and again. The current was strong, and there were plenty of rocks. The options were limited: either jump from rock to rock or wade through. At first, I took off my shoes, but after stepping on a couple of sharp underwater rocks, I stopped doing that. Sometimes the water reached waist-deep. I had to put my camera away in my backpack right away. With this kind of movement, it was easy to smash it against the rocks. Huge blue butterflies often appeared above the stream, but there was no way to photograph them. Navigating the serpentine mountain path required extreme caution and attention because you could easily grab a shrub with very sharp and poisonous thorns or simply stumble and fall from a significant height. I was pretty exhausted. But everyone was surprised by Andrey. He’s 62 years old, but in terms of endurance, he’s got many 20-year-olds beat. Andrey was always at the front of the group, and there wasn’t the slightest sign of fatigue on him. He’s a real rock! A great role model! At one of the water obstacles, Kostya lost a shoe, so he continued the journey with only one but didn’t show any concern. Finally, after three hours of trekking through the Amazon forests and rivers, we reached the much-desired destination—the waterfall. It wasn’t very large but quite powerful. Approaching closer, we felt the cool wind from the cascading water that had formed a small lake over many years. It seemed like an oasis in a desert to us, so we quickly undressed and jumped in like grasshoppers. The boulder served as a diving board from which the pleasantly tired travelers leaped.
The water was cool, so the refreshment was instant. Then, climbing out of the water, we snacked on the fruit we had brought, rested a bit, and set off on the return journey. This time, people spread out, walking either alone or in small groups.
On one of the steep descents, I landed on my knee quite well, but tore my pants in the process, which I ended up having to rip off completely. But that was nothing compared to the victorious feeling of overcoming obstacles. And the return trip took less time. Leo calculated that we crossed the river sixteen times there and back. It’s a wonder no one got hurt in any way. The slightest lapse in concentration, and the consequences could have been far worse than lost shoes and torn pants. By the end of the hike, even Kostya noted that it would have been tough for the girls who stayed «at the base» today to make such a trip. We returned just as twilight began, but with the satisfaction of conquering the mountain and water barriers and, most importantly, ourselves.
Apart from this adventure, we had various trips every day to the cities of Moyobamba, Lamas, to local and mountain zoos, to the lost-in-the-mountains «Blue Lake,» and to thermal springs. Every place had its charm, but the main highlight of the journeys was undoubtedly the local nature. Fortunately, in Peru, so-called «civilization» is lagging far behind, so everywhere we went, the destructive role of humans was minimal. I think the local authorities care for their land. In Brazil, according to Kostya, the ancient Amazon forests are being cut down everywhere. The scale of the disaster is enormous. But here, the pristine virginity of the forests, covering considerable mountains, is intact. This was especially beautiful during the trip to Moyobamba. Over the two-hour bus ride, the landscape outside the window remained mostly unchanged: mountains covered with forests, fast-flowing rivers, and small villages with simple houses.
Here, people and nature are in harmony. That’s probably why during my stay in Peru, I couldn’t shake the feeling of some kind of primal beauty and purity that we’ve long since forgotten. And the locals are friendly and treat tourists well, especially those coming from the mysterious Russia. Some higher order was invisibly present even at the molecular level. Of course, it’s present everywhere, not just in Peru, but here, you can «touch it with your hand.»
