10 Days in Paoyan – Part One

This post and those following are reproduced directly from the personal journal that I kept for the duration of the 10 day dieta in Paoyan. It’s largely unedited, and some of it is descriptive, some of it pure flow of consciousness. I dieted a plant called Chiricsanango, which works on your central nervous system, focuses you, causes you to dream, and strengthens your physical and spiritual body. The schedule was as follows:

4.18

Drink Ayahuasca, open dieta

4.19

Drink first dose of Chiricsanango

4.20

Drink Ayahuasca

4.21

Drink second and final dose of Chiricsanango

4.22

Drink Ayahuasca

4.23

Free evening

4.24

Drink Ayahuasca

4.25

Drink Ayahuasca, receive Arcana, close dieta

4.26

Depart from Paoyan, reach Yarina around midnight on the 27th

Most of the journal entries record the previous day’s events. Many of the entries are somewhat disconnected, as I simply wrote down whatever came to me, without much concern for the quality of the narrative. A further note: it’s 6 AM. I’ve slept for about 8 hours in the last 72, so expect typos. Why not sleep, you say? I…I don’t…know. Enjoy.

April 18th

We arrived early this morning, around 4:00AM. As we drifted along the river in the rusted, metal boat, swaying gently in our hammocks, my thoughts were divided. There was a part of me intent on the work I was coming to do, and there was a part lost in thoughts of friends, family and things spread across two continents.

This morning, however, I awakened with renewed focus. I’m dealing with a touch of physical sickness, as well, and I’ve found that I’m most receptive to spiritual realities when my body is impaired somehow. As I’ve experienced over the last few months, it’s only when material stability is removed that we are forced to remember what’s important in this life. I can only speak for myself here, but I find that when things are going well, I become blind to the spirit and develop an increased dependence upon the false sense of security that things like relationships, friends, jobs, and various other manifestations of worldly success bring.

I know that tonight the Ayahuasca will begin to address my physical problems, so I’m not too worried about it. And as of now, I’m simply relying on the knowledge that I’m not this physical body. As I wrote of my experience during a ceremony at Tierra Vida, I was made to experience my limbs as strangers to me, foreign, like I was wearing a “skin suit.” That’s stuck with me.

Today, I’ve found myself dwelling on a quote by Vivekananda that’s applicable, I think, no matter what your spiritual background. It goes like this: “Hear day and night that you are the soul. Repeat it to yourself day and night, until it enters your very veins, till it tingles in every drop of blood, till it is in your flesh and bone. Let the whole body be full of that one ideal, ‘I am the birthless, the deathless, the blissful, the omniscient, the omnipotent, ever-glorious Soul.’ Think on it day and night; think on it till it becomes part and parcel of your life. Meditate upon it, and out of that will come work.”

Alright, to it:

We got to the boat at about 4pm. There was a scheduled departure time of 4:30, and this particular boat was supposed to be fairly powerful (comparatively), so we were all looking forward to an early arrival and a decent night’s sleep. This being Peru, it didn’t work out exactly as expected. After loading up our bags and supplies, we were informed that the captain was missing. Additionally, we were told that we were waiting on another truck full of cargo to arrive. So we killed time, smoking cigarettes and mapachos, eating sweetened crackers sold by the swarming vendors, and sharing our various experiences with Ayahuasca and assorted hallucinogens.

We also used the time to string our hammocks side by side down the length of the boat. There were 12 of us traveling together, all told, and with the rest of the passengers bound for Paoyan, it made for a bit of a tight fit. But it was fine, and around 7:30 or so, the boat’s motor started up, and it slowly began to reverse into the lake that connected to the Ucayali River, which would take us to the little Shipibo village about 12-15 hours north of Pucallpa.

My intention, as I said, was firmly directed toward the work I was about to embark upon. I wasn’t excited, I wasn’t nervous, I felt determined. But my conscious thoughts were with the people back home in the States. As an undercurrent to all of this, I was surrounded by a tremendous sense of peace that came from knowing that this was exactly where I was supposed to be, that I was doing (for probably the first time in years) exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Many thoughts, that I won’t get into here, came and went, and something in me rested content above them all.

When we arrived, we disembarked and followed Papa Miky through yards of deep, black mud toward our sleeping quarters and what would serve as our ceremonial space. During the rainy season, much of Poayan is completely inundated and inaccessible. Even now, the waters have yet to completely recede, and our hut is currently surrounded by about 3-4 feet of water. Thankfully, the Shipibo villagers had built us a makeshift bridge the day before our arrival, and we cautiously crossed it and climbed the few stairs to our rooms. The mats we’d be sleeping on were still piled in the rafters of the large hut, and a few of the Shipibo women climbed up to retrieve them for us. Suddenly, there was a clamoring and the women retreated back to the floor, looking frightened and saying something about “juergon.” I knew this word. It signified a kind of poisonous viper. Papa Miky came over and peered into the rafters for himself. There was definitely a big damn snake up there, in amongst the mats.

Antonio, Gilberto’s son, climbed up to investigate. After an anxious moment of everyone gathering around, staring up in silence and awaiting the verdict, he announced that it was only a Boa. He grabbed the snake by the head, and it constricted around his arm. He came down and presented his catch to a room full of wide-eyed gringos. Lots of pictures, as you can imagine. We all got as close as we dared, and snapped photo after photo, until he released the snake in the middle of the floor, and it slithered toward the edge of the hut and moved toward the water. It was interpreted as a good omen.

After that bit of excitement, we hung our mosquito nets around our mats (no covering on the windows, and no doors). Antonio helped those of us who needed it, and we made our way to our rooms where we all collapsed and slept for a while until breakfast. When we awoke, we were served a delicious soup made from majas, which is basically a kind of enormous jungle rodent. This was followed by a lunch of piranha. Snakes, giant rats and carnivorous fish. Quite the introduction.

We’re all looking forward to getting this work underway. I still don’t know exactly what to expect. I’m anxiously awaiting the ceremony tonight. It’s beautiful here.