1st Ayahuasca Ceremony (2020)

I was mighty nervous this day, and the fact that the ceremony kept getting postponed didn’t help, it kept extending the nervousness. The original plan was to start the ceremony at 6pm, (it was meant to be a night ceremony, under the almost full moon, in fact 2 nights before the Full Moon of March 2020) but because some participants were delayed getting to the obscure venue, the ceremony time kept getting pushed.

This delay, in a way, turned out to be good – the more time went by, and the sky kept getting darker, the more my nervousness got tired and began to dissipate. I waited and waited. I still couldn’t believe it was going to happen, I still couldn’t believe that I was sitting here, in the malloca, amongst complete strangers, about to drink my first cup of Ayahuasca.

So many thoughts, doubts, apprehensions – what can I expect from this first ceremony? What will my purge look like? Will I puke? Will I poop? Will I cry? What will I be shown behind closed eyes? Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

At last, by 9.30pm, all the participants had finally gathered in the ceremonial space (maloca). Expecting certain biological emergencies/ urgencies to arise, I picked a spot close to the restrooms (haha, yeah!). Every ‘spot’ basically consisted of a mattress, a pillow, a blanket (it was chilly in the hilly area where we were), a lovingly placed small bucket (for the vomit purge), a water bottle.

We were to keep our cellphones away from us. Amazingly enough, we were in such a remote obscure location that most of us weren’t getting any network anyway. The tech gods graced us with this blessing. I had left my phone in my room, I didn’t care about technology or social media or a black mirror in those moments! I was a devoted student, waiting to get my first ever Live Learning, at the feet of Grandmother Ayahuasca.

Till before the ceremony was to begin, the two high ceiling yellow lightbulbs were switched on. Once we were all seated quietly around on individual spots, and the curandero had been seated, he lit a small candle, and all the lights were shut off. Just the one small little candle flame remained. We could all see the night sky, through the open-air maloca bamboo half-walls (as depicted in the painting above). The stars were dim but persistent. So beautiful, that night. So full of potential, brimming with magic, heavy with hope, the promise of healing.

This curandero, who had travelled with his wife and small child, was actually a professional musician as well. He had several instruments with him, some handmade, some regular string instruments etc. He was called ‘Maestro’ by people apparently. So are most curanderos (maybe?).

Maestro said something to Brother T, the organiser person, the almost-curandero-in-training, the guy with all those years of experience sitting in hundreds of ceremonies, our point-person, our go-to-guy, our guide through all this. Soon enough, Brother T made a soft-spoken announcement to the group to the effect of “if someone is on their Moon Cycle, please come forward, the Maestro needs to hand you something”. Coincidentally, I was on the very last day of my Moon Cycle, so I sauntered down to the corner (a corner of an eye-shape that we had formed with our mattresses) where the Curandero was seated. He handed me a small little pouch, felt like paper or maybe linen (I don’t recall very well now), and apparently it contained tobacco and the pouch was referred to as ‘apacho’ (I’m not sure of the correct spelling). I was asked to tuck the small pouch under my belly button (in my underwear waistline or shorts) so that the substance could bless me and aid me through the ayahuasca journey during my moon cycle.

We were told that one by one we must walk up to the Maestro, set our main prayer/ intention in our mind, and respectfully take the tiny cup from the maestro’s hands, drink the medicine in one go and walk back to our spot quietly. Then , just sit up with your back straight, eyes closed and surrender every little intention or thought you may have. Simply let go and wait.

Patience and faith is key.

One after the other, participants walked up to the Maestro to drink the medicine. I don’t know about the others, but I was so damn nervous, bursting out of my skin.

And then my turn came. I did as we were supposed to, walked up, in my white top and shorts with the apacho tucked into my wasitline, I kneeled down, I joined my hand together to pay respect to the entire journey of events that had brought me to this moment. Candle flame, flickering, the silence was loud and divine. We could hear dogs howling in the distance, maybe some monkey noises. A cow mooed somewhere, the world was all night, all dark, deep deep dark.

The Maestro offered me my first ever cup of the Ayahuasca brew. Immediately, I was reminded of the many western-skewed articles about the taste – putrid, pungent, horrid, repugnant.

FAKE NEWS! haha.

The minute I drank the brew, the minute it hit my tongue, the roof of my mouth, the inner parts of my cheeks, under the tongue, I noticed how wrong all those articles had been about the taste – I found it quite interesting and tasty actually. Coffee-wood-licorice-y. So strange, unique but kind of tasty.

I mean I am not wanting to imply that its a taste that I would be sipping on through my day, like a beverage. No, of course not. But my Indian palate or taste buds are familiar with Ayurveda and its many unique flavours. I sort of liked it.

I folded my hands in respect and prayer, got back up and walked back to my place in the maloca (ceremonial space), to my mattress. It was chilly out, so I covered myself with a blanket. Brother T had told us earlier to avoid drinking water for at least an hour after taking the medicine.

As I sat there, in my spot, I was worried about how long I could actually maintain a straight back posture as I suffer from this thing where my legs fall asleep within minutes of sitting straight up or cross-legged. But as I noticed the intense warmth spreading downward in my body, I could actually feel the medicine travelling through my body, all worries and thoughts slowly dissipated.

I don’t know what it was exactly, but I hadn’t felt like eating much at all since I had arrived at the venue. I had had a very small meal the whole day and that’s it. And I think its because of this that I could really feel the passages, chambers, crevices through which the medicine was travelling, very unlike the spread of alcohol in your body on a cold night.

Very soon, once the entire group had taken their first cups, the Maestro blew out the solitary candle flame. We now sat in complete darkness, except for the night sky and its stars, and the Moon almost overhead. The venue was so far from everywhere that there was no ambient light anywhere near us. It was total moonlit darkness. Sublime. Delicious. So eerie, yet so palpitatingly inviting. So quiet. So intriguing.

But none of that was meant to be our concern – we were only to concern ourselves with the dark canvas behind our own closed eyes. Wait and watch.

Within a few minutes of sitting quietly with eyes closed, I started seeing dimly neon-lit geometric patterns, very mild at first. I started feeling high-high, like an alcohol high, which was so unexpected BECAUSE I had literally been told by everything I read and by experienced well-wishers that it was not a fun-trip-joy-ride, it was meant to be serious business.

Whether I liked it or not, I felt giggly, bubbly and wobbly, as if I had mixed my drinks at a party with friends. I later understood this by itself as a lesson – it doesn’t matter what YOU expect, SHE has her own agenda, her own lesson-plan. You’ve just got to buckle in.

While I was feeling really silly-high, I was being taken through different scenes, underlaying which were these dimly lit neon patterns. So dim, not like an explosion, but like the underlying atoms or molecules of all the things I was being shown.

I was being shown bizarre yet familiar scenes – like a canal, with a boat tied to the corner, a back alley, a staircase, a bridge. Things like that. Couldn’t make much of it. It just felt like other worlds, without any story, insight or lesson. I sort of just got lost in them, one after another, and for a while my ego was quiet, out of confusion or shock I suppose.

Then suddenly I was standing in a scene (looking through my eyes, I think I had a body that I could not see in this scene, but the lens was my eyes) where I was sort of looking at feline yet standing-upright creatures, greenish in colour, mid-conversation. I seemed to have disturbed them with my presence, my eavesdropping. I hesitated as the cat-person looked in my direction. Oof. I felt a slight subtle terror.

In an instant, I sensed the first message of the night, loud and clear “it’s not all hunky-dory here, there is darkness too – it’s not for everyone, not for the weak-hearted” – it was clear to me in that moment that the message wasn’t pertaining to the specific ‘place/ scene’ I had tuned into, but about the Ayahuasca-altered-state-of-consciousness world in general. Shivers went down my spine. I had been sufficiently warned.

She kept taking me to different scenes, which didn’t yet weave a story or sequence or meaning for me. I felt further lost, like I was being spun around. Amidst this randomly put together montage of scenes, my ego emerged from her sleep and started begging Mamma to “please heal my inner child, she really needs it”. As I observed a central part of my self begging Mamma Aya, I saw a little girl sort of disappearing behind the folds of a big slip-n-slide which soon looked like my own intestines, with its twists and turns, its bends and curls. The little girl, a toddler, was crawling away from my sight, but she turned to look back at me before she vanished behind a bend in the slip-n-slide. She had a peaceful yet mischievous smile on her adorable little face. She was in no mood for seriousness.

But I wanted ‘healing’, as if my life depended on it!

Out of angst, I began to cry, to sob, big fat tears. As abruptly as I had begun crying, I stopped, as Mamma paid no attention to my private pity-party, pulled me by the soul and put me back on the random scenario montage reel, filled with random scenes and places and faces and people. Everything faintly lit with neon lights and patterns. There were no fireworks, no ‘grand bursting colourful psychedelic visions’ as they are typically depicted in media. regarding psychedelics.

I felt more and more giggly. The Icaros (holy songs talking & praying to the Mother energy and to higher powers) that Maestro was singing were reverberating from within my body, in waves. He had such a lovely voice, he sang so well, so lovingly. I remember hearing foreign words (his native tribal languages), english as well as Hindi prayers – I understood later that the Ayahuasca energy belongs to no particular caste or creed or religion or language – She knows it all, answers to all, loves all. Universal love.

His instrument-work was so filled with passion, so ecstatic, so mesmerising. Beautiful life-affirming waves of sound. Wow. It felt like Maestro was sitting and playing his songs from within some deep corner of my own body – I am not exaggerating! It was as if the strings of his guitar were tethered from one end of my body to another. And he was playing them. The sound was coming from inside my body. HOW!!??!

Also, he must have been sitting over 40 feet away from where I was planted on my mattress. But the sound was so close – I opened by eyes several times to double-check if Maestro was sitting right in front of me. It was absolutely mind-bending. So beautiful. If we were all able to experience music & sound in this way at all times, I doubt there would ever be any violence or lack of joy in our world.

I kept giggling. I felt like I was in a trippy trip, within a trip, within a trip. Inception-style. Let me explain – as soon as I realised that my eyes were closed and I was tripping within a scene of patterns or lights or faces, I would feel like “Ohhhhhh Shit!”, then within that scene, I would open my eyes and then again soon realise that I was within another trippy moment/ scene, then again I would exclaim “Ohhhhh Shittttt!!”, open my eyes only to realise that I was in yet another trippy wobbly scene. So it was a trip within a trip within a trip. Don’t know how else to explain this.

This is something that remains a common thread most of my psychedelic experiences thus far – its often so hard to express exactly how I was feeling during it, what I saw, what I felt etc. Sometimes this limitation feels deeply frustrating.

Moving on, I soon began noticing this odd thing – all the sounds being made by everyone in the maloca felt neatly choreographed – footsteps, coughs, sobs, vomit-noises, cries of help – everything felt like a symphony. And there was no ‘ordinary’/ regular sensations of separation – wherein we would hate someone interrupting our experience with their bodily sounds, no disgust or annoyance over sounds of another human vomiting, or crying. Nothing. It was all natural. Acceptance, without judgment, without any effort. Profound sensation and realization that, actually, we are capable of such great oneness/ tolerance/ calm/ acceptance.

Please understand and accept my grand submission here – it all felt like beautifully arranged music. Vomit sounds, sure. Someone retching, dry heaving, sure. Someone sobbing, beautiful. Someone walking to the restroom, their footsteps – music! It was all music to my ears! So neatly following a pre-defined rhythm. WTF, right?!?!? Typically, when we hear someone retching, we ourselves feel like retching, almost like a reflex. Well, with Ayahuasca, there’s No Such Reflex!

This was one of the most profound observations of the night for me, this musical arrangement of all sound and the full albeit passive acceptance of all sound.

Aside from a few intense moments of crying (very brief), I mostly kept giggling, audibly, without much control over it and continued muttering “Oh Shit!” every 20 seconds or so. As I mentioned earlier and in previous posts as well, we had been politely but matter-of-fact-ly told beforehand to try and tone it down/ keep it in as much as possible so as to not disturb anyone else’s process. So a part of me was embarrassed at my giggling and muttering “Oh Shit!” again and again. But actually, no one came to interrupt me or stop me or warn me. So, I guess it was okay after all.

For some time I assumed that maybe no one could hear me, that maybe I was hearing myself louder than I actually was. But after the ceremony was over, I learnt that whoever needed to hear me, heard me! You see, she (Mamma Aya) manages us like a pro teacher/ symphony conductor. We serve our purpose/ roles even within the ceremonial circle. I’ll explain – apparently a fellow (soon-to-be-friend) who was having a challenging purge, he kept crying without tears (the dry heaving version of crying), he heard me giggle and say ‘oh shit!’ and it made him stop and laugh through his own sobs. My mutterings and giggle apparently helped him slow down his barrage of sorrowful thoughts and feelings, granting him some momentary relief. Wonderful, isn’t it?! I mean, I didn’t even know this man. Of course, the next day onwards, we became acquaintances, and friends in the months to come.

Randomly, I was shown a scene or put in a scene in which I was the viewer and also participant. I was in somebody’s skull (not me), looking through their eyes, and I was sitting very close to two strangers. I felt/ sensed that I was or they were or we were all ‘German’. The two people were either talking about me, or about someone else. And suddenly I realized, yet again, that I don’t know who I was. I had forgotten who I was. And then the dormant Ego emerged again and nervously (almost angrily) demanded ‘Who am I?’, ‘Who am i?’ over and over, because the Ego freaked out by the lack of clarity.

I want to lay emphasis on this aspect – I genuinely forgot who I am.

I forgot my name, my gender, what I looked like, what my ‘life story’ was. I couldn’t remember anything! It totally freaked me out. I now remember touching my body nervously, I felt my breasts and went “Aaah! I am a woman!”, “but wait what’s my name?!?” “What are all the details about my life? All the things I know went terribly wrong in my miserable life, but I now can’t seem to remember?!?”. My eyes opened abruptly due to the shock of ‘not knowing’, and I began to sob in panic and disorientation. Even with eyes open, I just couldn’t remember who I was. It’s so ironic that the lack of a story was so disconcerting. The story that I had reviled, the story that I have claimed tortures me went missing from memory and yet instead of rejoicing, the Ego grew madly hysterical.

Soon after opening my eyes, I had yet another shock to endure and digest. As soon as my eyes opened, I was startled by what I was seeing all around me. I was paralyzed in my place, couldn’t move or look away. I was curious to keep looking, but also alarmed. You see, people were changing shapes and form, every few seconds. Bird-people, ten-foot tall giants, just 2-inches wide bodies, translucent like vapor-ghosts, and on and on. Everyone was a shapeshifter, everyone was vapor and matter and animal-like. Also I turned my neck to look at my immediate neighbours, to see that their faces had lines all across them, arranged in a way that later resembled the ayahuasca branches/ vines. Bloody terrifying also bloody beautiful. I looked down at my own hands and arms, I saw faint lines and patterns. Beautiful. Freaked me out. Truly. I closed my eyes again, in mild fear.

Brother T had informed us at the beginning of the ceremony that the Maestro would be serving the second round of medicine to whoever wants it after about 1.5 hours of the first serving. I had made a mental note of it.

So somewhere in the middle of my freak out, after I had shut my confused eyes again, I saw another feline creature standing upright, under the shadow of a small overhead bridge, next to a canal. She/ He telepathically reminded me to ask for the second cup. I opened my eyes, raised my hand, Brother T came over, asked if I was doing okay – I asked him if 1.5 hours had passed and could I have the second serving. He smiled at me angelically and said “way more time has passed Anjuri, the ceremony is closed now”. I was shocked to hear that. I honestly didn’t imagine that the ceremony was already over, without Mother Ayahuasca granting me any healing, any insights, any coherent messages. WTF!!?!? I was already an indignant dissatisfied customer!

Before Brother T could walk away, I told him “you keep changing shape” (months later I drew him as a bird-man, with gorgeous golden wings on his back). He smiled like a cherub. I asked him if I could hug him. He said “No”. Lol. We had to wait till the ceremony was over before we could touch anyone, of course with consent. Brother T walked away to wherever he was needed and I went back to closing my eyes. Maestro kept singing with his stunningly reverberating instruments. Inexplicable pleasure!

One silly thing – Whenever he would sing in his native tongues, some words would sound alien and funny to me – and I got another excuse to giggle! I was so out of control in terms of the giggling. I was embarrassed but actually had no control over it.

I continued giggling and exclaiming ‘oh shit’ over and over, against my will and better judgment. Throughout this entire first ceremony, I did not move from my place. It’s like I was planted, staying put like a good girl, doing as I was told, taking every guideline so seriously. I did not drink water, did not puke, did not feel the need to go to the restroom, I did not move. Also, just to reiterate the fact that I have a chronic legs-painfully-falling-asleep-pins-and-needles problem – yet I remained seated, straight back, from 9.30pm to about 2.30 am that night! WHAT!!!!

I don’t remember much of what happened next, but I recall begging Mamma one more time, ‘Please heal me! That’s what I came here for! Why aren’t you healing me?’, with no resolution. She kept making me giggle, feeling silly, playful, bubbly. I yawned a lot too. I enjoyed the ceremonial music like I had never experienced sound ever before in my life. And right at the end, I saw a beautiful dimly lit serpent approaching me, it was so dimly lit, barely visible, but it was coming towards me. I think I was shocked enough so that my eyes opened. And then I remember feeling this incredible urge to hug everyone, a feeling of affection and love towards all the strangers sitting around me in that maloca. But of course, we aren’t allowed to.

There was a silly moment which I unknowingly catalysed – during one of my soft-giggly “oh shit!” moments, a man sitting a couple of mattresses away from me, began giggling. Soon his giggle turned into a madman’s laugh. He was obviously having some sort of an epiphany (which he revealed later in the sharing circle the next day – he had just understood and observed how silly human seriousness is!), but then Brother T swiftly came over and asked him to lower his volume, to contain his laughter so as not to disturb/ disrupt the others.

From what I gather, curanderos and curanderos-in-training can actually see/read/sense auras, colours, energies wafting around and from individuals. They can literally see/ sense when someone is just having a moment of purge, as an essential part of their process and can survive it without help (vomit, crying, or some discomfort with their emotions) OR if they need actual help navigating their process (and they will watch out for this person and maybe approach them if needed, to help/ manage). They will see colours and come to someone’s aid. I don’t yet know more than this, but this itself is magical.

We had all been informed by Brother T at the start itself to raise our hand, while sitting in place quietly, in case we need assistance, in case something feels beyond overwhelming. We are encouraged to just ride the wave of discomfort/ epiphany/ overwhelm, as its seen as a part of out process/ ceremony/ journey, to not panic, to surrender, to sit it out. But if it feels ‘too much’ and you feel grave panic or discomfort then the curandero and his juniors can come to your aid.

A few people in our circle needed and received help from the curandero that very night. They quietly raised their hand and waited for help to arrive. Another person needed help navigating their walk to the restroom and back, they were given the help.

A remarkable fact – there was never a time in the ceremony when the number of helpers were outnumbered by those who needed help (even though most of us were first-timers!!!). Another astonishing fact – there was just 3 toilets to be shared by 20+ people – but not once did anyone have to wait around for a loo to be free. It was all so damn smooth! How is it even possible? I thought long and hard about this and from what I gather it seems very well choreographed – the whole ceremony, when someone will cry, when someone else will laugh, when someone needs the loo, when another one needs it. It just seems like a smoothly scripted dance of movement, noise, footsteps, yawns – it is absolutely otherworldly.

Before I knew it, the first ceremony had officially ended. Out of nowhere, a small candle was aflame again. The Maestro left the maloca. Apparently, even after the curandero may physically leave the ceremonial space, he stays there in energy/ spirit, so as to watch over the participants (and keep them safe) as they come back to this version of reality, out of the altered consciousness states, back to their bodies. Anyway, most of us fell asleep in the maloca itself that night.

I had even more questions and demands than I had before I had walked into the retreat. I was totally confused and felt shortchanged. Why was I giggling throughout like a dumbfuck? Why didn’t I receive any epiphanies? No messages? NO HEALING?! Is this what I have to contend with for the next two ceremonies as well?

Ugh.

Little did I know….

(continue on to the next posts for the sharing circle revelations and a description of the second ceremony)