Yage, a Separate Experience

I closed my store a half hour early, hoping no customers would drop in, so I could be on time for the ceremony with the Taita, or shaman. I arrived by 7 to Vista Del Mar, the beautiful hillside B&B that was again the site of the ceremony. Unlike the earlier experience, the spacious poolside room was filled, and there would ultimately be 15 of us on this journey. The faces were familiar, 3 of us from the previous experience and a lot of other friends from the community. After I created a comfortable space for myself with cushions, blankets and pillows, I settled in, noting that there was no evidence that the shaman was present. It was not long before our host announced that there would be a delay of at least two hours because the shaman and his party had run into travel delays and were still in Liberia, more than two hours away. It was about 11:45 when I finally received my cup. The shaman did some extended chanting every time someone approached to drink, and I was number 13 in position out of the 15 of us. I dismissed any significance of that number and waited patiently for another half hour or so for the vine to have its effect. A few people started to vomit, and I was starting to feel a little sick inside. This time, I fasted two days and was hopeful that this would limit the severity of the sickness that is so much a part of the plant experience. The affects started to come on, first in the form of geometric patterns, an intricate weave of sacred geometry. This was similar to my first experience, when it had been followed by visions of snakes. However, this new experience soon proved to be quite different from before. It appeared that I was seeing some form of extra terrestrial presence. I’m not talking about spaceships or aliens in any way that has been presented in the movies or popular culture. What I was seeing was different and essentially indescribable, and it was not friendly. It grew in intensity into what I can only describe as partly reptilian and partly like the strangest creatures from the bottom of the ocean, perhaps cross-bred with insects. These visions or hallucinations were very unpleasant and threatening. Vomiting into my bucket had the affect of intensifying the experience. This was a bad trip and it kept getting worse. I tried to keep my eyes open as this helped keep away the monsters that were trying to engulf me. These visions were nothing like I had on my first experience, it seemed to be all bad, dangerous and profoundly threatening. I wanted it to be over, and I wanted help. There is no clear vision that I have of any coherence or form to what was threatening me, but in retrospect they were evil spirits of some ineffable nature. And it was just me, and I could not surrender to them, although it was taking every bit of strength I had. I remember wishing that I had a crucifix to arm and strengthen myself. It was around then that I had an insight about the nature of self. I was on my own, and I needed the integrity and strength to prevail against these unknown other-dimensional forces. Prior to the session I spent time considering what my intention would be for this second ceremony. I wanted to understand better the nature of God and the spirit world, as I had expressed to the shaman on my first journey. ‘Be careful what you ask for’ was part of that first lesson, as the experience had been overwhelming. I wanted a watered-down version that I could remember and understand more clearly. But after a lot of thinking, I decided that I ultimately wanted to know more about myself. The lesson from the first experience is that God lies within. The weird visions of creatures, or whatever they were, subsided or shifted, but not the dread, or the desire to come back to normality. I strongly resisted the urge to vomit, because I knew this would greatly intensify my hallucinations or visions. But this was not possible. I was able to find the strength to move out of the room to the poolside area, although just barely. Now, when I closed my eyes I no longer saw the horrific creatures, just blackness. I would open my eyes periodically to regain a sense of my surroundings, and help ground myself, but seemed to nod back and forth between blackness and sight. There were distortions to my vision, but not strong ones. Some of the geometrical patterns that had greeted me at the beginning of the trip appeared, like having a bad set of eyeglasses. Before having the strength to rise, I felt the ground shake, like one of the many earthquake aftershocks we have experienced since our 7.6 earthquake last September. There also appeared to be some light, not at all bright, illuminating our room from the outside. This was all part of a surreal process that I remembered as part of the first experience a few weeks ago. I actually felt that the tremors were real, but after I had moved outside I felt several more, and concluded it was the ayahuasca. This was reminiscent of the first experience, when I felt ripped asunder and reborn, but now I just felt like I wanted it to stop. As I sat outside struggling with this ordeal, a good friend, Ashley, asked if I was alright and if she could do anything to help. She brought me a towel. A while later she came back to check on me again. This time I asked if she could bring me my water bottle, I was not feeling up to the journey of 10 feet to fetch it myself. Although not easy, I was able to rise to my feet periodically, reaching inward for the strength and fortification to stand up to the possibly demonic forces that were assaulting me. The intensity began to diminish, and I took a walk around the pool, still somewhat unsteady on my feet. It was a beautiful starlit sky with no moon. I was feeling quite a bit better at this point. I stopped where Ashley was situated on the pool deck, and thanked her for her care. We then started a conversation that was to bring the light and clarity that I needed. Ashley is a talented and dedicated astrologist, and excellent jewelry maker as well. She has been coming to Nosara part time every year, beginning about 9 years ago, and I had not appreciated her wisdom before, although her charm and femininity is hard to resist. I described my experiences to her. It is part of the lead-up to Dec. 21, just four days away, and there is tremendous tumult and intensity during this time, she explained. What I have been experiencing is a tremendous purging of everything leading up to this event so that I can begin this new era without the baggage and detritus of my past. This is important work, and furthermore it is intensified because I am doing the work for others as well. We had a long and deep conversation, where she led me to an appreciation of the significance of the upcoming solstice as a time of great shift. Certainly this is a time of upheaval, where the Connecticut school shootings are just one of a series of horrific events. If my intention was to understand the world of spirit better, then perhaps it is not so surprising that I would encounter dark spirits rather than light spirits at this time, so close to the solstice when the sun is approaching its shortest appearance. Ashley has suffered horrific personal ordeals recently, and she has come through it with greater strength. This was her lesson for me as well, that I am a warrior and that my work is not just about me but others as well. She said that the universe was giving her this information and I don’t feel that it would be wise to question it. During our conversation I was feeling steadily more grounded and well. I thanked her for giving meaning to my experience and we spent some time appreciating the stars above us. I rose for a little more walking, and the shaman was tuning his guitar so I retook my original seat. I looked at my phone and it was 2:45. He sang some healing songs in Spanish and his indigenous language with his assistant playing some percussion on a rattle like instrument, and I tapped out some rhythm on my belly, giving my internal organs a nice massage. My bowels had been active, but were pretty stable at this point. A number of people were requesting additional cups, because their experiences weren’t as deep as they wanted. Each of these cups was accompanied by rituals and ceremony, and then the Taita began individual healing ceremonies. These were quite extensive and involved much rattling of his dried leaf instrument, playing of his mouth harp, and laying his hand on the head. I was fourth up for this and eager for any healing that might be imparted. His ceremonies are customized and he asked me to take off my shirt so he could rub my back and arms with a liquid infused with aromatic herbs and perhaps a bit of rum or cane alcohol. I embraced him with gratitude and returned to my spot nearby, feeling quite comfortable. I don’t think I fell asleep, and after awhile rose to walk by the pool. I heard some voices outside and there was the first faint light of dawn. It was about 5 and I laid down a little longer until stirring again a bit past 6 when others began to rise. It was a bit noisy and I wasn’t all that sleepy. I had been contemplating continuing my fast, so I passed on the oatmeal and fruit that our hostess had set out for us. I joined the people sitting at the table with their bowls. During the course of small talk, the shaman revealed that he had not had any fresh ayahuasca available, so had taken the remainder of an old batch and added water. Although I was hearing this through an incomplete translation, he said this had happened once before with a much larger group of people, and there were no problems with the strength, sort of like Jesus turning water into wine. It did make me wonder, though, if this might have been a factor in my experience with the evil spirits, along with the late start to the ceremony. It is now Wednesday morning, Dec. 19, and I am at my house smoking barbecue. I am continuing my fast into its fourth day and I feel good, although didn’t exactly jump out of bed. After getting ribs, chickens, beef and tuna loaded into my bbq pit, I decided I would take a couple of puffs on my pipe. Part of me wanted to stay pure and another part wanted to do some processing with the aid of THC. Following my tokes, I then remembered the advice of a customer yesterday who recommended getting in the ocean as part of my cleansing process. I threw a massive log in the pit and headed off to the beach. Arriving at the beach, there was the client with her child and another couple of women and children playing in the water. I thanked Amanda for her advice and proceeded out to play in some really big waves. There were lots of surfers out and conditions were great for those who could ride the waves. I contemplated my own failed attempt at becoming a surfer. I was feeling a lot of insights and mental clarity, and really enjoying myself in the water. While I try to get to the beach every morning for a walk and sometimes a run, I hardly ever get in the water to play with the waves. I resolve to spend more time in the water. I lost my stoke after an extended effort at surfing when I moved here five years ago, and while I don’t dwell on it, there’s a little part of me that regrets not having mastered surfing in my 50s. But it just wasn’t meant to be. But I can at least get out and body surf a few times a week, and I resolve that that will be something I do more of in the new era. Returning to my casita, I check on the barbecue and take a couple of chickens off. I shower off in my outdoor shower and having neglected to bring out a towel, air dry myself in the waiting hammock.. I’m feeling very comfortable and getting lots of insights into my life and business, when I hear my name called. It’s Jefferson, a man who makes pati, a Caribbean baked pastry filled with vegetables or meat, and banana bread. He works very hard just to get by, walking around in the heat peddling his products person to person. I buy his products to resell at my store, although it’s very little. I am happy to see him today and he is very happy to report that he is fully loaded with baked goods made for the first time with the oven that I am selling him. We brought it to his place Monday and he is excited that this will allow him to make much better money. I bought the used pizza oven at the beginning of the season and had been renting it to a talented baker who is the baker at Blue Spirit, the 160-room retreat center here. She bakes world class breads, cookies and granola and sells it on the side, and her cookies especially sell well in my store. But she no longer needed it as she was offered the use of the commercial oven at Blue Spirit for her side-business. I posted it for sale or rent, and while I had a couple of other inquiries, it was truly meant for Jefferson. He didn’t have the $500 cash that I needed to break even, so I worked out a financing plan for him. Once again, my previous career in banking has karmic ramifications. Since moving here I have made many small loans to people and most of the money has come back. It seems like I’ve been a non-profit Grameen Bank, and my sister even made me promise not to lend more money down here, because I’ve been such a soft touch, but I soon broke that promise. So once again I am playing banker, and feel optimistic that my new asset will give me a little profit. It feels like a win-win. I bought 8 pati, much larger than my usual order, and it occurred to me to put them in the smoker for a while to infuse them with a smoky flavor. I’ll find out if this was a synchronistic insight or just more product that gets stale in a few days. I’ve been continuing to contemplate my experience of two nights ago. The motto ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ resonates, and I continue to feel gratitude to Ashley for helping me create the paradigm for my experience.

An evening with jage

The evening started a little after 7 and the shaman began by singing several songs, accompanying himself with his guitar. Then he used a pipe-like device to blow some sort of snuff up our sinuses, creating an intense burning sensation in the back of our heads. He explained this in Spanish and our facilitator relayed that it would help open our minds to the experience we were about to share. It produced a lot of sneezing and nose blowing and some snarky comments among us.

He further described that our experience would involve three stages: first we would have a vision of snakes, then of tigers, and finally a bird. The five of us were then invited to line up and receive our cups, as he did some chanting in chechua, the indigenous language of the upper Amazon and Andes, going back to the Incas and perhaps before. The shaman came to Nosara in September, declaring, I’m told, that he was called here. He is now adorned in his ceremonial garb, consisting of a headdress of feathers with five large feathers in back, and a cape consisting of rattling dried leaves and seed pods. We sat quietly in the candle lit room, in the hills above Playa Pelada, with plenty of cushions, blankets, and of course our buckets. There were three women and two men, and in less than half an hour my neighbor hit the bucket, so to speak, while I became aware of growing discomfort in my belly. It wasn’t too much longer before we were all hurling into our buckets, and not long after that that I started to become aware of some geometric patterns in my vision. As the nausea become more intense and overwhelming, the visual effects became stronger and I began to see snakes and definitely felt myself in an altered state. According to instructions, I only had a breakfast of fruit, so I was surprised at the volume of material that I was vomiting. I also saw snakes in the bucket, but didn’t feel fear. And I normally hate snakes. At this point the discomfort was extreme, maybe twice as intense as the food poisoning I once experienced from eating some bad oysters at a seafood restaurant years ago. I suffered through this for what seemed like hours while the discomfort gradually diminished and I felt like I was returning to normal. Struggling to get to my feet to visit the bathroom was difficult, and the time was punctuated once or twice by the shaman doing some chanting and playing a mouth harp and shaking his rattles. I fished my phone out of my bag to check the time and was surprised that it was only about 11 pm. At this point, various ironic thoughts were going through my mind, to the effect that I could cross the ayahuasca experience off my bucket list, ‘been there, done that,’ interesting but ultimately no big deal. Snakes in a bucket. The shaman had told us that we could request an additional dose, but there was no way I was going to go through that intense feeling of sickness again for a rather unremarkable psychedelic experience. It was therefore with some incredulity that I saw my male friend approach the shaman for a second dose. His vomiting and trips to the bathroom seemed to have surpassed my own, so I was surprised that he was up for more. But a short time later, I was even more shocked to see one of the women approach the shaman for another cup. I just lay on my side, trying to breath through my experience and grateful that the nausea had abated. At this point, members of the group had approached the shaman and he was chanting, shaking rattles and playing his mouthharp. After this had gone on for some time, our facilitator approached me and said it was time for my own personal healing session with the shaman. The shaman instructed me to sit very close to him, as he put his hand on my head and did a little chanting. We had all been told to come to the ceremony with an intention, and he asked me what mine was. With the help of our facilitator/translator, I said that I wanted to understand god, or dios, or espiritu, better. He indicated he understood, ‘claro.’ He also asked me to describe any visions I had, so I explained that I had seen the snakes but not much else. He did some more chanting over me with his hand on my head, and I didn’t feel anything in particular. Finally, he invited me to drink another cup. In spite of my earlier determination not to do so, I did not resist his invitation, so down the hatch. I returned to my floor cushions, hoping for the best. Again, perhaps 20 minutes or so passed without ill effect, but then it hit me hard and I began violently retching, coming up with even more black sputum for the bucket. From that point, it started to get really interesting, and a bit blurry. My wretching at this point may have been loud enough to be heard through Pelada, although we were fortunately up in the hills with few or no neighbors. Part of this time, I think the most intense period, was spent on the toilet, and I’m really not sure how long I was there while my visions were peaking. What I remember is an intense witnessing of godsource, so overwhelmingly intense that it would have burned me up like a nuclear fire if I had tried or been able to embrace it. I had the feeling that I was not prepared, not ready, to experience god more directly at this time. I also had the feeling that this godsource was within me, not outside me. As I backed off from the nuclear furnace, I had some other visions, although I haven’t been able to remember much. Like a dream, much of it seemed to fade quickly as I returned to more normal consciousness. I do remember seeing some elf-like or gremlin like creatures, or little people, and their purpose or nature was unclear but seemingly a little mischievous and a little unnerving to me. I remember feeling some discomfort, but not outright fear, regarding the surreal environment I was witnessing. As I pulled myself up from the toilet and walked, skeleton-like, back to my cushion, I was still in the throes of vomiting and hallucinations. At this point the shaman stood over me, chanting intensely, spit-spraying smelly potions over my doubled-up body. I had the intense feeling of being reborn, perhaps as a shaman or priest of some sort with a spiritual calling, and not really being sure that I was ready for or wanted that kind of change at this time in my life. The shaman’s chants were such that he sounded like he was announcing my spiritual rebirth to the world, that he was a spiritual midwife to my ascension to a new plain. My memory is not at all clear here but I believe I went through two or three cycles of this, where I would settle down, only to begin violently heaving for another round, and to again have the shaman over me chanting, playing his harp tunes, which took on the semblance of horns heralding the birth of a newly reincarnated holy man. As the effects wore off, I was exhausted and feeling fried, although I did not sleep that night. Others had been going through their own intense experiences, some more verbal but none as loud as mine. They also revived more quickly, with my male friend experiencing great energy. He brought me pieces of pineapple, which he correctly predicted would be the best tasting I ever had. With the light of morning, I had oatmeal and fruit offered by our hostess, and we shared our experiences. I was able to nap most of the morning and went into my store that afternoon. I took my regular shift at the cash register from 4 to 7, and felt normal enough to join a friend and go to a big party/fundraiser that evening. Sixteen hours earlier, when I felt like I nearly died, I never would have expected to recover as fast as I did. Now, three days later, I am struggling somewhat to hold onto the experience. I don’t feel particularly transformed, or reborn. I do feel like I have a better understanding of the nature of god, on an intellectual level, but don’t feel moved to make any particular changes in my life. The purging may have cleaned out my system, and I had a good strong run on the beach yesterday, but I’m not sure if anything remarkable has happened regarding my energy level. I didn’t sleep very well last night and woke up at dawn, but found myself really dragging in the afternoon. While I really didn’t intend to take that second cup, my friends are talking about doing it again in a couple of weeks. In spite of the horrific misery, I think I’ll probably go for it.

life in October

Oct. 24There was a pretty good rocker last night, it shook the apartment for quite a while as I crouched vigilantly in the middle of the room. Having gone through several shakes, I’m able to guess the magnitude fairly well and I pegged this one around a 6, by far the largest aftershock to the 7.6 six weeks ago. All this one did was knock over an empty beer bottle, and didn’t interrupt any of the utilities, so I could check Facebook for official reports on location, depth and magnitude. Initial reports indicated it was nearby. Well, October here is a little slow, interrupted by moments of terror. Organico is closed for the month, giving me a chance to step back, take a couple of deep breaths and prepare for the new season. I will also be moving into a new cabina that I hope will be a little more comfortable. I hope my cat Leo handles the transition well. My other cat Isis went MIA back in May when I took a trip back to the states. There are a couple of kittens that are hanging out in front of the store, and I need to get them to the vet and have them fixed while I have the time. That’s about all I have to report on the pussy-front, sorry to disappoint. On another subject, I got my residency card renewed for another two years, and it was much easier than I had feared. On a downside, some new anti-money laundering regulations, adopted under pressure from the U.S., is screwing with my ability to move money among my different accounts. That may be somewhat problematic as I need to spend heavily in November to get my shelves restocked. I’m under some serious pressure to move my smoker away from the store, which is a setback. Since July I have been doing my bbq in front of the store, which has some real advantages. However, I have space next to my cabina to park it, with few neighbors to potentially complain about smoke. So I think I’ll try to do my smoking there. I might enjoy hanging out there a few days a week rather than spending all my time at the store. Sonia is doing a great job at the front of the store and Andrea is making great food in back. Some talented people are bringing in their products, including excellent Pad Thai, baked products and deserts and snacks. One woman makes world class foccacia and I am eager to build a great bbq sandwich with it. I’m actually looking forward to watching the first game of the World Series tonight, I can stream it on my laptop. Watching tv sports by myself is kind of a last resort, but I’ve got plenty of extra time to kill now. I’m even writing a blog entry, that’s how much idle time I have this month.

July 2012

Well, it might be time to blog again, considering how much has happened since my last entry. My life evolves around my store, Organico Deli-Market, which has steadily evolved in the two years that I have been involved with it. My attempt to make and sell raw foods there led to a partnership with Shlomo, who started the store a year earlier. We had a mediocre season and might have come close to breaking even. It wasn’t looking too good, though, so in February, after several months of nonstop hours at the store, I returned to the shack to refire my smoker, and Shlomo focused more on the store and less on building at his property in San Juanillo.

It became clear that the store would need a cash infusion to continue into the next season, and at this point I tried to find a buyer for the store. Several people expressed interest, but there was no follow-up when I sent them the financials, such as they were. I thought of closing the store, and taking my hit, rather than continuing to pour money into a business that had failed to break even after its second year. But I wanted to believe that the store had a future, and that I could make it happen. I was commiserating about my situation with a friend who was struggling with her own business, a coffeeshop/café. Among her complaints was that she had a bad location, and it occurred to me that we could merge our businesses into my location on the main road. It seemed like a good idea to both of us, and we successfully sqeezed her café into Organico. The first week of November was intense but we got everything put together, and with some new paint the place looked good. Fortunately I have a great employee who can run the store without me being around, which allowed me to keep the smokeshack running, and I also had a great employee at the shack. I still liked hanging out at the shack, and jawboning it with customers, in spite of the heat and bugs. Plus I was actually seeing a little cash come into my pocket. As we approached the end of the high season in April, my store mate was short of cash and got hit up for some back payments by the social security agency here, so she decided to close up shop. I picked up the pieces, and moved my smoker to the front of the store as a cornerstone for my planned deli. During May and June, when business is a lot slower, I visited friends in DC and had a separate trip to Peru, where I joined my sister Gretchen and her two daughters on an incredible tour she arranged of Machu Pichu and the Sacred Valley of the Incas. We rafted, biked, and hiked between Cusco and Machu Pichu through the Sacred Valley of the Incas. We also checked out local markets, and checked out an ancient salt pit where 2000 evaporation pools have been created over many hundreds of years, where I loaded up on gourmet pink salt to sell in the store.

Tourists have returned in July, and I feel like things are finally set up well. We’re selling a lot of food, not just my bbq but a whole menu of options for eating in or takeaway. Some talented people are making foods that I resell, I’ve lowered the prices on almost everything, and people are starting to notice and respond. I’m keeping a local girl occupied full time making bbq wraps, salads, soups and other tasty things. The store is obviously taking most of my energy, and at night I usually chill out with my guitar and cat Leo. My other cat, Isis, went missing when I was in the States. She may still show up one day. There’s a little nightlife going on and I was thrilled when the co-owner of Casa Tucan initiated a karaoke night. I’m going to rent out my house for another year, and am about to sign a lease on a two bedroom casita.

Running a business is challenging but it also has its rewards. This is not at all the lifestyle I envisioned five years ago, but I feel good about where I’m at now, and optimistic, as well as proud of how far I’ve come.