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WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7
10:17pm, my tambo
Saying the jungle is amazing is like saying the Sistine Chapel is a masterpiece. In reality, they are both much more than words can describe, and the true essence of both can only be found through experiencing them. The jungle is God's masterpiece, a harmonious pièce de résistance, and at the moment my personal safe haven. On the other hand last night's Ayahuasca ceremony was painful—dreadfully, physically painful.
At around four or five o'clock I was reading the end of Plato's Apology when Juliana came to my tambo. She motioned for me to come with her and for some reason wanted me to bring my towel.
We walked down the little path towards Otillia's house in the late afternoon sun. Instead of going towards her house she led me to an area where there was a bathtub sunken in the ground. It was filled with water and all kinds of floating leaves and plants, and Juliana imitated getting into the bath and washing herself and pointed to me.
I nodded my head that I understood but couldn't help feeling shy with her standing there. She looked at me with a confused look. Was I supposed to get in the tub with her standing there? If so, should I get in naked? Or wear my shorts? Luckily, she turned away and I watched her scuttle back towards the house.
Looking around, I didn't see anyone, but I still wasn't sure of the customs, so I kept my shorts on when I slipped into the bath.
The tub was filled with a refreshing mix of green shrubbery, and these plants gave the water a slight cooling effect. I lay back in the tub, looking up at the blue sky, the colors of the jungle canopy rich in the golden hour of sunlight.
I closed my eyes and lowered my head underwater. It felt natural and my body released tension from deep within. I lay in complete tranquility for what felt like an appropriate amount of time, and when the sun was slightly lower I got out and walked barefoot up the hill.
On the path ahead of me were three new people who'd just arrived. Juliana was leading them towards the big tambo at the end of the path.
Turning off the trail towards my tambo, I went inside to change out of my wet shorts. I picked a few crushed leaves off of my back, put on dry shorts and a T-shirt, turned on my portable Nixon speaker, and played some music. Swinging in my hammock, I smoked a cigarette and listened to Billy Joel, singing along to the parts I knew.
Earlier, Otillia told me the ceremony would begin when it gets dark, and to come down to her house then. Before I went down, I felt like I did when I landed in Lima a few days ago; I couldn't tell if I was excited or nervous. Who the hell cares, I thought. There wasn't much difference between the two and I decided I had to stay open to whatever experience I get.
The dusk muted the colors of the forest and I lay in my hammock, swinging from side to side, waiting for the night to finish swallowing my diminishing view.
