The First Ayahuasca Ceremony – where I think nothing much happens (I am wrong)

Some Pre-Ayahuasca Ceremony Preamble

Our first ayahuasca ceremony takes place on the first evening that we arrive at Selva Madre. Some of my fellow retreatees are surprised by this. I’m not, because – as discussed – I did a significant amount of research before picking this retreat and it’s not exactly a secret. Tsk, fellow retreatees.

Anyway, surprised or not, each of us is then guided to our huts, before being summoned for our individual consultation with Don Lucio.

I’m biased, but in my opinion, I have one of the best huts. It’s set up on stilts – like Baba Yaga’s house, which is just cool – and is down a little path, between most of the rest of the accommodation/kitchen area and the temple in which we will later unleash gallons of puke. The whole thing is made of wood, with a narrow bed, table and one bookshelf.

There’s a bathroom with a rainwater shower (unheated, but powerful. And with a constant outdoor temperature of 32 degrees centigrade, unheated works just fine) and a loo that is perpetually colonised by Tiny Frogs Of The Amazon. The frogs keep to themselves, but I feel kind of bad about, well, let’s call it excreting on them, so always flush twice before using the loo to try to entice them out. Almost invariably, neither of these flushes will disrupt them, then seemingly hundreds of frogs will, as invariably, emerge from the porcelain rim during the post-excretion flush. It never stops being disconcerting.

I unpack. Glamour items include a head torch, obligatory shit-yourself-in-this white ceremony outfit and some anti-mosquito candles. Virtually all cosmetics are banned (this was one of the many things that Katarina gave zero fucks about), so my luggage is approx 80% lighter than usual. I’ve had eyelash extensions though. I’ve come for enlightenment, not a personality transplant.

When my time comes, I’m led into the multi-purpose kitchen/dining room/generator corner/communing-with-the-shaman space. Don Lucio smiles beneficently at me and Roland invites me to let Don Lucio know My Intention.

My Intention

Your intention is a big deal in ayahuasca. Preferably, you should arrive with specific areas of focus, so that you can derive the most benefit. Ayahuasca can be used to resolve both huge and small things, my list is at the minor end:

1. I am Quite Sad in 2016. It’s a sad that pales in comparison to 2020’s Behemoth Of Misery, but sad nonetheless. I’m here to check that I’m only sad about living in New York (again, I promise, more of this later), rather than just generally ‘sad’.
   
2. I see ayahuasca as a colonic for the brain, flushing out any old, impacted crap that shouldn’t be there (frogs optional). As we know, I love a colonic, so I’m pretty up for this element of The Ayahuasca Experience.
   
3. For the last 7 or 8 months, I’ve had really bad eczema on my face, going from just above the arch of my right eyebrow to just below my right cheekbone. I’ve had eczema on my face before – it’s the only place I get it – but nothing that usually gets rid of it is working. (I also have asthma, psoriasis and get hay fever – THANKS DAD.) Grossly, I am a picker and I can’t stop myself from clawing away at it with my nails, only making worse. I am extremely self-conscious about it at all times, but fortunately am Good Enough At Make-Up that I can cover up the worst of it most of the time. Eczema can be a stress indicator, so I’m curious as to whether there’s a Deeper Reason for its sudden re-emergence and obstinate refusal to succumb to the various lotions and potions I’ve applied to it.

And that’s really it. I tell Roland all of this and he dutifully (I hope, I speak zero Spanish) relays it all back to Don Lucio. Don Lucio continues to nod serenely (honestly, this guy could teach the Churchill Dog a thing or two about nodding), then he starts to speak, in halting English, consulting Roland every once in a while. He asks if I am married, or have children. I say no, it’s never been my time. But that that’s ok. He nods – inevitably.

He tells me that they have medicine that will cure my eczema. I will have it in 2 days, he will need to brew it for me. Most of all, he says that the ayahuasca will help me with my intention and that everything is going to be ok. He means it, and I receive it in the spirit that it is offered. He takes my hand and squeezes it and, I’m not sure why, I start to cry. He nods in absolute comprehension and compassion (Boss Level nodding, right here), pats my hand and lets me go.

Then it’s time to go back to my room to await the ceremony, which will take place at around 8pm. I get some sleep. I will sleep for approx 16 hours a day my first 3 days at Selva Madre. This is the first time since I moved to NY in September of 2015 that I’ve been out of the office for more than 4 days and I am fucking exhausted. I will later learn that my fellow retreatees initially assume that I’m aloof, unfriendly, but then they realise that I was just knackered.

The Actual Ayahuasca Ceremony – Semantics

And so. To the ceremony. Again, the Internetz is my only source of photos. I took very few whilst at Selva Madre, but I generally avoid ‘documentation’ photographs, so even in my most enthusiastic moments, I doubt I would have recorded any of this stuff.

It’s dark when we make our way down (hence the head torch), but it wouldn’t be especially useful of me to show you the outside of the temple in total darkness, so here it is in daylight.

And inside it looks like this:

Most of us hadn’t taken ayahuasca before and the mood in the room was one of anticipation mingled with trepidation. We about to open up our heads, with no real idea of what would come out.

It was the 10 of us (nice, round number, I always thought), the 3 shamen and Ronald.

The shamen had changed out of their natty Selva Madre polo shirts and were in full ceremonial gear. This included the type of heavy boots that abattoir-workers wear. This and an earlier sighting of some chainsaw-wielding farmers, on the long tuktuk trip from the boat at Iquitos to the retreat, only increased my feeling of trepidation. None of the reviews had mentioned human sacrifice, but we were in the middle of fucking nowhere with no way out and no way to contact the outside world… (Spoiler alert: none of us was the victim of a human sacrifice at Selva Madre. Katarina would commit several crimes against fashion, but otherwise our stay would prove to be entire law-abiding.)

We were told to pick a mattress. I went for one close by the door – Katarina on one side, Johnny on the other. Don Lucio came round, with a shaman either side of him, and blessed each of us individually. The blessing culminated in him thwacking his fan (you can see it in his hand in the photo above) on our shoulders – one blow for each shoulder – then on the back of our bowed heads. We were then told that this would be our mattress for every ceremony thereafter, as it had received a specific blessing for each of us and we risked disrupting the spirits if we moved. I mean, sure, whatever.

The mattresses had a blanket on them and, in a stark reminder of what lay ahead, there was a bucket at the foot of each bed. We were reminded to be sick when we felt the urge, not to resist, purging was a crucial part of the ceremony. Without it, we may carry Bad Things out of the room with us. Apprehension levels mounted. Ronald let us all know that he would be there for the duration of the ceremony and if any of us needed the loo, to just raise a hand and he would take us outside, where 3 portaloos awaited us.

The Ayahuasca Ceremony – Shit Gets Real

Then it was AYAHUASCA TIME! All aboard the Rectal Urgency Express, ladies and gentlemen! Ross was first, little imagining the 4 nights of futility that lay ahead of him. Then Kate, who gagged almost immediately and started exclaiming loudly at how foul it tasted. I’m glad she did, it still didn’t prepare me for the sheer awfulness, but Johnny was next and necked his like a trouper, so without Kate I would have had no idea what horrors awaited in that little beaker.

I wrote in the previous post how disgusting ayahuasca tastes, but I have to reiterate – it tastes like the bile of a long-dead zombie with pancreatitis. GOOD GOD. But, down it went. This is why I was here, after all.

Katarina next. I’ll draw a veil over the histrionics that ensued. Suffice it to say, she drank very little and her face was filled with even more bitterness than that cup.

Then Leo (next to the door), Karina (on the other side of the room), Sergei, Matt, Michael. even 4 years later, I can picture everyone in their spots. We’d watch one another throw up for hours at a time in the ensuing days; that kind of an experience leaves an impression.

We were all told that we would be asked later if we wanted more ayahuasca. Equally, we could ask for more at any time. More? I wished I could have had less. For the record, that first night, we drank about 200ml, it would increase as the ceremonies continued. Especially for Ross.

There was a single candle in the middle of the room. Ronald blew it out, symbolically. The room was in near-total darkness. We could see the stars (millions them, there’s no electricity, so there’s no light pollution) through the screen windows and there was a candle at Don Lucio’s table. That was it. The 3 shamen sat at the end of the room, opposite and furthest from the door – Ross and Michael closest to them, either side. Each shaman had a chair, a table and a fan. And a natty little hat. Never forget the hats.

They started to sing the Icaros. The Icaros is always sung during the ayahuasca ceremonies. In the belief system, ayahuasca opens you up to commune with the spirits. The Icaros and the shit-your-pants white outfits summon the good spirits and banish the bad ones. It’s a pretty efficient arrangement, all-told. Wafting the fans continually, they kept up the whistling and singing for the entirety of the ceremony – about 4 hours.

And so. This was it. I HAD TAKEN AYAHUASCA. WHAT THE FUCK WAS ABOUT TO HAPPEN???

I Am A Wanker

Now. I’m going to reveal something to you that I didn’t realise at the time and that I’ve already trailered in the subject of this post. During, and for about 18 hours after the ceremony, I didn’t think the ayahuasca had worked. This may seem extraordinary to you once I start detailing some of the crazy shit that went on in my mind during the ceremony, but I honestly thought that this was just how active my imagination was, if you left it on its own in a darkened room for 4 hours with no other distractions. This was for 2, equally applicable, reasons:

1. I’m an egotistical wanker who thinks that I’m capable of Very Deep Thoughts without spiritual/hallucinogenic intervention
2. In spite of all of my research, I hadn’t realised that all the hallucinating was internalised. Unlike mushrooms or acid – both of which I’d taken previously, only once each – where the external world changes, in ayahuasca, it’s all happening in your mind. So when I opened my eyes – as I would, many times – and the outside world was exactly the same, albeit slightly refracted, I assumed that I was just thinking Very Deep Thoughts, no hallucinogens required.

(I would be the first to recognise that 2 is unlikely to happen without 1. I am who I am.)

So Anyway, This Is What Happened The First Time I Took Ayahuasca

1. Within about 10 minutes (time is impossible to measure during a ceremony; hours would slip by, yet minutes would feel like their own infinite universes) I got that feeling where you’re still conscious *just* before a general anaesthetic knocks you out. If you’ve never experienced this, then apols, I can’t help you further. Go bother someone else who’s taken ayahuasca, ask them. Or, go and get a general anaesthetic as soon as you can. The former seems less extreme and more convenient, but you do you.
   
   That ‘almost-but-not’ unconscious state would persist for the rest of the ceremony, but I came to recognise it in future ceremonies as a sign that the ayahuasca was taking effect. I was very self-conscious that first time, constantly checking for signs that THIS WAS WORKING. I saw lot of sunsets flashing through my head. Then a lot of neon. Then Brad and Anil, my New York BFFs, popped up amidst all the neon.
   
2. Then I saw a montage of images of my mum. Some of them were still, motionless: photos that I’d seen of her. Others were moving: some were real memories, others more like composites of photos, moving so quickly that they seemed animated. A sweet, calm voice in my head said: “Remember, you love your mum”.
   
   And I *do* love my mum. Albeit that we have a complicated relationship that will likely hit these pages soon. As I type this, we’re actually on Non Speakers.
   
   Anyway, at that moment, I was filled with all of the love I have for my mum. I could feel it in every atom of me. I started to cry (I did warn you that I cry a lot and we’re going to be tears akimbo for much of The Ayahuasca Experience).
   
3. Then the voice carried on, pointing out things that were bothering me, that had lain dormant in my mind. An ex-boyfriend (Lovely Paul, a story for another day) whom I binned off mercilessly.
   
   The Voice: What can you do about it?
   
   Me: I should write to him and apologise
   
   TV: Yes, you should
   
   Every word that I needed to say to him appeared in my mind, unasked, unedited.
   
   In the event, I would not write to Lovely Paul until this year. Again, we’ll talk about that another time, but what I now recognise is that there is much that ayahuasca guided me to do that I ignored, to my detriment. And, perhaps, demise. But, I digress…
   
   The Voice and I worked through a bunch of stuff, it felt like flipping through a filing system in my mind. We’d stop on something then The Voice would ask:
   
   “Is this bothering you?”

Me: Yes

TV: What can you do about it?

And the answer would just come to me, seemingly unbidden.

TV: Do that, then

And, both of us satisfied, we would move on.

Sometimes, more often than not, actually:

TV: “Is this bothering you?”

Me: Yes

TV: What can you do about it?

Me: Nothing

TV: Are you sure?

Me: Yes

TV: What will you do differently next time?

Again, the answer would be right there, in my mind. I would tell The Voice what I would do if this reoccurred.

TV: You need to let this go. You have no more to learn from it and it doesn’t serve you. Let it go.

And I would. It was weird. I could just… let it go. I’d feel the molecules of my body rearranging themselves into new positions, into the space created now that this thought or thing was gone, and we’d resume going through the files.

Reminder: For nearly a day afterwards I would believe that the ayahuasca hadn’t worked. I fear Michael wasn’t the only bellend in the hut that night.

The Ayausca Purging Begins

Amidst all of this – as this was largely how my first ceremony went, a parsing of the trivialities of my psyche – I suddenly started to feel sick. This was to be expected, I knew. But, Jesus, that shit had tasted terrible going down, I couldn’t face it coming back up again. I tried to ignore it and carried on triaging my brain.

The urge came back.

And again.

And where I’d been seeing random lights and memories, suddenly I found myself in a corridor. I was walking down the corridor, following neon arrows that pointed the way. Down and round and on and on I went, before unexpectedly finding myself in an enormous communal loo, lined with stalls. In the blink of an eye, I was in front of the open door of a stall.

Inside the stall, a loo, lid open, invitingly, and a giant neon sign: “BE SICK”

“BE SICK’

“BE SICK’

“BE SICK”

“BE SICK”

All around me, in neon, but also in a multitude of voices, urging me on:

“BE SICK”

“BE SICK”

“BE SICK”

“BE SICK”

Reader, I was sick.

I sat up, opened my eyes and almost immediately threw up into my bucket. And, I can confirm, ayahuasca tastes even worse coming back up than it does going down. Mother. Fucker.

The trio of sounds that accompanied any ceremony at Selva Madre were: the Icaros; the insects outside, singing their own songs; the sounds of my fellow retreatees retching and puking into their respective buckets. 10 hours earlier, we’d never met. It’s a hell of an introduction.

And so the ceremony continued, the triage, the puking, the Icaros, the insects, all becoming one. I’d pause once in a while, open my eyes, observe who was doing what (puking and sitting were the big 2), I might or might not throw up myself, then straight back to business. Over and over. Surely 4 hours had passed? But on and on the singing would go.

And then. Suddenly. It was over. Candles were lit.

The Ayahuasca Purging Ends

Don Lucio came back round with his Mighty Fan Of Benediction, gave us all another good walloping (tougher to take this time, with my thoughts somewhat scrambled) and we were herded out of the temple, all of us stumbling, uncertain.

And so to bed. I was disappointed that the ayahuasca hadn’t worked (I know, I know, but I’m telling you this as it happened). But hey. There was always the second ceremony.

Eeesh. The Second Ceremony. Where I would ultimately learn that Resistance Is Futile, but have A Very Bad Time in the process.

That’s for another post. Until then: Puke well. Puke often. Puke much.