Teachings with Taita part III

As the days passed at the house of Taita, Claire and I became accustomed to our lives there.  We began to better understand the strong Argentinean accents of our traveling friends, and we became more comfortable in our roles of living, working, cooking and eating at the farm.  Taita and I were still working together, and every day and every moment provided a new lesson.  Claire was working more with Mama, as well as learning lots of new artisanal skills from our traveling friends (dream catchers, flowers and baskets made from coca fronds, etc.).

Paz, Chiso, Pato y Miguel with lentil burger lunch!

One day, Taita found us in the morning (we all slept in tents under a plastic roof, on the ground), about 6 AM, most of us still in the tents.  He let us know that we would be going to ‘Fin del Mundo’ (End of the World), a waterfall about 4 hours (well, he said 2.5) away from the farm, an adventure that we had looked forward to since arriving in Mocoa.  We ate a quick breakfast, and began the walk – a group of about 8 – the traveling gang, and our leader Taita.  The journey was quite long, but we were kept energized by light rain as we walked.  We had packed only some bread, as we were expecting to hitch a ride either there or back, to shorten the journey.

After about 4 hours we arrived at the preserve, followed by another half hour walk to reach the first waterfall.  We greeted the indigenous family that charged a small fee for the maintenance that they performed regularly on the –at times precarious- trail, and headed into the jungle.  The trail was through a rainforest, lined with thick vegetation and all shades of green, and at some points the path became flat, smooth rock worn by years of water erosion.  We climbed stone paths and steps carved by ancient peoples of unexplainable strength and precision, descended rickety wooden ladders constructed more recently but with less mind for longevity, and arrived at a pristine waterfall drifting from a sunlit pool to a dark hole about 20 feet below.  Taita taught us of the sacred energy of the river, the falls, and the waters, and urged us to continue downstream to the ‘end of the world’.

After passing two more beautiful waterfalls, Taita took rest under a huge overhang, and smoked a cigar.  During this time, we were exploring when I lost my footing on a mossy section of rock, and fell with a 360-spin as a cartoon character might exaggeratedly slip on a banana peel.  I came to rest squarely on my chin.  I was initially surprised and thankful that I hadn’t broken my jaw or neck, as I took note that everything seemed to be in place and moving appropriately.  Just as the thought occurred that I should be bleeding, I noticed the red pools coloring the water at my feet.  My chin was split
 wide open, and the look in Claire’s eyes when she saw it told me that the wound was fairly deep.

Miguel and Pato at the precipice.

Justin and Taita peering over the edge.

As usual, we found Taita.  And as would become a pattern, Taita showed us that calm, light, and composure can pacify any situation.  He looked at the wound, and laughed.  He said “let me show you a trick”, and he closed his eyes with an elfish grin, said some words under his breath, and then blew swiftly on the wound.  Then he collected some leaves, and told me to hold them tight onto the cut.  While the rest of us were worried about the implications of this (would I have to turn around, did I need stitches?), Taita told us it was time to move on.  About five minutes further down the trail, we came to a place where the earth surrendered its hold on the horizon, and a sheer cliff met the jungle beyond.  El Fin Del Mundo. 

We stood at the edge of the falls, the adventuresome peaking their heads over the 200-foot precipice at our feet.  Then we began hiking down the cliff side, as Taita led us to the bottom of the cataract.  When we reached the bottom, Taita smoked a celebratory cigar as he explained the historical significance of the spot, and shared with us how the smoke of his cigar and the mist created by the falls were similar energies. We learned that Taitas of the past would come to waterfalls to worship, to provide offerings to the gods, to travel between dimensions, and to convene with the spirit world.  Thus, the pools below the falls – and this ancient falls in particular – held waters that revived the soul, providing healing, youth, and energy. 

Taita

Healing waters.

We stood at the foot of the falls, letting the force from the mist soak us, and then we plunged into the crystal-clear pools, lavishing the energy and cleanliness that it offered.  After a few minutes, we left the pool refreshed and re-energized for the walk home.  We ate what little bread we had brought, and relied on the energy of our elders –the Taitas and Mamas- to carry us back towards the setting sun.  I think, at that point, we all assumed (hoped?) we would catch whatever car happened to pass us.

When we reached the road, we kept walking.  A few cars passed, but none stopped, we were too many.  Night overcame us, and we kept trodding.  Eventually it became clear that we would not get a ride.  We just kept walking, Taita with his 58 years, short stature and lively spirit leading us nearly running the entire way.  We reached the farm on foot at about 10 PM, having walked nearly 11 hours without more than bread to eat.  We were exhausted from the journey, but all thankful to have been guided by such esteemed company. 

Taita’s lessons about waterfalls were not yet over.  A real test lay ahead.  We awoke a few days later, and as usual Taita was already up and working. He let us know that this morning there was much to be done, and those who worked until the afternoon would join him to drink Yagé at a ‘nearby’ waterfall that evening.  Of course, we were all happy to help him with the work, encouraged by an offer to drink and experience the energy of a waterfall at night in the presence of our teacher.

Gaspar, Taita, and Justin working hard.

After digging, moving, and hauling dirt for half a day, we packed for the waterfall.  As it rained heavily here in the Amazon basin with some frequency, I asked Taita if we needed a tent, and he said “No.  There is a big house with a nice, large roof where we can stay if it rains”.  I missed the glint of mischief in his eye… 

We headed off, packed only with sweatshirts and one rain jacket.  After about two hours of walking, essentially through Taita’s backyard, including a river portage and a healthy climb, we arrived at a beautiful waterfall.  We were a bit hungry and tired, as we had been fasting after working all morning, but the waterfall was so pristine that our grumbling stomachs were quickly forgotten.

Taita in his ruana.

The creek divided into two streams, like horse manes, that glided from the rocks above into a wide pool below.  Beneath the overhanging rock nestled birds, huddled together and waiting to hunt bugs at dusk.  We all swam, sitting beneath the falls and feeling its power.  We also gathered lots of firewood to prepare for the evening, and explored the place that would be our home for the night.  The search provided a dead, bloated armadillo – an interesting omen, to be sure.

Chucho and the armadillo, which

 he assured us, “was alive”.

As night fell, we drank with Taita and his son Chucho who is also an experienced Shaman.  The first dose was a mild one for me, and I enjoyed the waterfall as I meditated at the river’s edge, taking in the noise and power from the falls, and gratefully accepting the energy it offered.  Claire’s journey was more powerful, as she alternated from dancing to the drums played by friends, to sitting by the fire, and listening to the teachings and songs of Taita.  After several hours, Taita asked if anyone wanted to drink a second time.

Artist's interpretation of the Spirit.

Some were still quite deep, but others (including myself) accepted.  Taita, uncharacteristically quick in his motions, let us know that we should drink right now.  He blessed the medicine unhurriedly- taking his usual 45 minutes or so to sing songs to it and ask the spirit and abuelitos (grandfathers) for curing, lessons, and beautiful paintings; and we drank.  As soon as those interested had drank, the rain arrived.  At first it was a steady sprinkle, and we sheltered under nearby trees.  It was at this time that I acknowledged that there was no house, there was no roof, and there was no shelter.  Ohhh, who can explain the tests of the Teacher?

Soon the skies opened and the rain came very forcefully, as if to test our will.  It started raining so hard that the trees provided no protection.  Thunder rumbled.  We were completely soaked.  Claire suggested that we go for a swim, as we weren’t going to get any wetter, and I agreed.  Completely naked in the pouring rain, I waited for her to join me in the river. 

The water was warmer below the surface than above, and I relished in the energy as I swam out to the waterfall.  I sat beneath it, and harnessed the energy of the waterfall combined with the spirit of the Yagé.  It was a powerful moment, one in which I had to find my breath to calm myself and manage the energy.  Despite the joy and empowerment I found in the moment, a dark intensity was creeping in.  Within moments, I could feel the force of the waterfall growing. 

I swam away from the falls, and as I let the current push me back to shore; I turned just in time to see lightning flash in the sky above, lighting the rocks above me and revealing not two pigtails, but one steady stream of water.  The river was consolidating its force.  As I exited the water and huddled up with Claire under a fleece, shivering off the cold, the energy continued to intensify.  Taita and Chucho approached, barely audible through the heavy rain and asked us if we had seen our two friends – Miguel and Nico - as they were nowhere to be found.  We did not know what had happened to them.  A confusion and mild panic set in, and Claire asked, concerned, if she might help.  “With what!?”  Taita laughed, assuring us that there was nothing to worry about, and a little water (or a torrential downpour) would do no harm, and in fact liven our spirits.

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The soundclip above is of Taita singing in the rain, at the waterfall. He sings 'father, mother, help and teach us' in his native tongue, Kamëntsá

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In the arms of the Mother.

During this time, the medicine was coming on strong.  It came in waves, lights dancing across my vision and pixilated boxes shifting likes waves through my periphery.  At about the same time, another friend of ours named Victor ‘fell’.  This was the first time I had seen such an experience, although we had heard that Yagé could bring such force to give harder lessons to learners.  Victor dropped to the ground in front of us, swimming and writhing frantically in the mud and pouring rain like a serpent.  Then he would go completely stiff, frozen in the depth of his visions.  Suddenly, he would wrestle again, and our friend Patricio, ever diligent in time of need, was there to brace him, to hug him tight and subdue him so that he wouldn’t hurt himself or others, and to offer him kind words “it’s us brother, we’re here”.

But Victor was not there to hear the words.  He had been carried to another realm.  Watching this, I could feel the energy in the space intensifying more, and it was all I could do to find my breath, to instill in myself the confidence that I could manage what was coming.  During one particularly violent writhing fit, Victor opened his eyes and looked directly into mine.  But Victor was not there, only the spirit of Yagé.  His pupils were completely gone, the eyes were inhabited by the spirit, and I saw only darkness.  A voice entered my head, as if the spirit was speaking clearly to me.  “See my power.  This is not a game.  Respect me, and know that I am both good and evil, darkness and light.”  I remembered my proposito (purpose), which was to learn how to control difficult energies in my life, and keep myself centered in times of strife.  I found a lesson again from the great teacher, and finding my breath, found my center.

Shaman and medicine.

I was shaken, but not scared.  I only hoped that Victor was okay. Luckily, Claire was a warm, calm energy by my side.  During this time, which was only a matter of moments, Taita had been observing from a distance.  He came closer to the group like a candle in the darkness, and as I opened my eyes to him, I saw him step forth, a calming white light among the darkness.  He came, laughing and singing, and put his hand on Victor’s shoulder, laughing as Victor lunged at him.  “The man thinks he is a snake!” he chuckled with a smile.  And with that, he continued dancing and singing in the rain.  As he continued, I could feel the heaviness and the darkness lift; I could feel this man clearing the evil from the place, bringing light and joy.  Again, Taita’s composure saved the day.  Our teacher understood and explained to us later, that anyone who works with the medicine enough must at one time fall.  Not all lessons taught by the spirit are easy, and Taita shared a story of the first time he fell, and lay on the ground throughout the ceremony, listening to the earth as it spoke to him. 

Artist's interpretation of the Spirit.

The rain continued, but following Taita, our energies lifted and lightened.  Claire invited our friend Diego to join us under our fleece, and the three of us huddled together and managed to gather a bit of warmth “el calor del amor” (the warmth of love) – with a rotation which left only one of us shivering at any given time.  At one point, as the rain eased up, Taita stood by us and taught us a lesson we had learned before, as he pointed to the trees dancing in the raindrops: “you see, everything has a spirit, the rain has a spirit, these plants have a spirit, they are asking you: ‘do you want more waters?’” and he chuckled, playing his harmonica as he danced away.  We got word that our friends Nico and Miguel were okay – they had crossed the river before the rains, and had been stuck on the other side, as the river had grown so much they could not get back across. 

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Taita's 'agradecidos', or 'giving thanks'. Translation: "We give thanks for this visit. That we are here adoring the waters, the rocks, the sand, the trees, the leaves, the roots. All are from God and the Mother (Mary). Then, the power of all we have is thanks to God and Mary. All we have. We have the path, we have thoughts, we have vibrations, we have the power to sing, to dance. Thanks to God. Thanks to Mary."

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After a few hours, the rain ceased.  Taita lit a fire with a half-gallon plastic jug and soaked logs, and eventually the flame licked the water from the wood and we had warmth.  We all huddled around the fire, grateful for the warmth and light, and happy that the rain had subsided.  Victor recovered, and was back to his normal self, though humbled by his experience.  Nico and Miguel returned to the fire, and joined in the huddle. We waited until daybreak, welcoming the calm that came as the cold and wet relented, and then we walked back to the farm.  Exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, we continued with our day, happy to be dry and warm, and surprisingly energized for not having eaten or slept the day before.

Taita and the 'bimbo'.

The next day, Claire and I returned to town to get supplies.  We got word that the strike (paro) would be lifted the following day for 12 hours, and felt we should seize the opportunity, as our time in Colombia was quickly drawing to a close. In town we bought parting gifts for Taita and the family, including a male turkey (bimbo in Spanish), which we conveniently found in the market (we had been searching for weeks).  We returned to the farm, and gifted Taita the turkey.  Immediately it became clear why the family’s female turkey had been following people around, sitting near them and beckoning for attention.  Within 5 minutes, the two turkeys had met, courted, and the female quickly sat invitingly in front of the male.  The male then did his job, and ‘stepped on’ (translation from Spanish) the female, in a beautiful moment which had everyone on the farm smiling and clapping.  It may seem strange to read about a group of people cheering about farm animals mating, but it was beautiful to know that our gift to Taita and his family would ensure new life at the farm for years to come. 

In a way, it was easier to rush out.  Taita had taught us so much, and we will never have the means to thank him.  Words, gifts, hugs, love, it all falls short – but he understands, as such a wise man would.  He sent us with seed from Chagro and Yagé, and kind words and blessings.  Mama thanked and blessed us as well, and with hugs and good-byes to our traveling friends, we were on the road again.  Off to Bogotá, in hopes of closing the circle of our travels by visiting La Fruta and then La Cienaga before returning stateside.

Abuelito y Abueltia, the parents of Taita in

their home. Elders of the Kamëntsá people.

Teachings with Taita Part II

We returned from Taita’s to the town of Mocoa to investigate about leaving, and make plans.  We arrived to news of a nationwide ‘paro’ (strike) in Colombia.  To strike, farmers in unions take to the streets and create blockades, prohibiting the passage of goods and people by dismantling semi-trucks sideways across the lanes, making holes in roads, essentially physically blocking the passage of trucks, buses, and cars.  The campesinos (small-scale farmers) had united with other workers of particular industries, including mining, cattle, and indigenous communities, to protest the passage of the free-trade agreement with the United States (officially called the TLC- ironic isn’t it?). 

Colombian front yard on the road to Mocoa.

This agreement, which eliminated or reduced tariffs on imports to Colombia, allowed the US and Canada to flood the market with industrially manufactured produce, which is sold at a lower price than the small-scale, often organic produce grown here in Colombia.  The increased supply, combined with the reduced prices of foreign goods, drove down drastically the price that farmers could earn for their crops.  While this is good from the perspective of the buyer, this one-sided economic perspective ignores the majority of the population, which is involved in small-scale farming.  These farmers, who are paying more each year for their inputs while receiving lower prices for their produce, are being put out of business and/or operating at a loss.  As a result, Colombia, a country which has historically been an exporter of many agricultural products (including coffee, bananas, cocoa, etc.) is now importing many goods which it has historically produced itself.  This has forced some small-scale farmers to adopt monoculture, synthetic farming techniques, while others have abandoned farming altogether in an attempt to enter struggling job markets in near-by towns and cities. Campesinos have little recourse as these steps are initiated by multinational corporations to put them out of business and take their land.

Like Mama says, she knows nothing about that way of life, and farming has been her and her family’s way of life forever.

A banana farmer walking his goods to market.

As there are many social groups involved, it is very difficult to get a clear view of the actors and their motivations.  The government often claims that Guerillas are responsible, although this could be an attempt to discredit the protestors.  In general (as these strikes have been occurring several times per year), the Government attempts to reconcile with various groups, usually through short-term trade assurances and futures. 

For more information on the paro click here:

http://www.commondreams.org/headline/2013/08/25

 Such agreements are helpful to farmers in the short-term and helpful to the Government because they reduce the number of protestors and thus diminish the strength of the ‘paro’.  However, these agreements ensure that no lasting or structural change will result – and thus a pattern of strike and short-term acquiescence has developed. The position of the farmers is a difficult one, because while they are lobbying to power on local levels (Governors, Mayors, etc), politicians at the national level (even IF they wanted to change the TLC) have their hands tied, as the multinational corporations with whom the agreement has been signed hold most of the bargaining power.  This strike was so lengthy (more than a month) and so large-scale (more than 400,000 people) that even President Obama had to take notice.  Of course, nothing but the usual hemming and hawing about how he would ‘try to change it’, but that ‘Congress wouldn’t agree on anything’… Sound familiar?

Paz picking chagro leaves.

Meanwhile in Mocoa, we were lucky to be safely in the country-side, where we could help grow and eat locally grown food at the house.  Luckily for the family, their main agricultural product – Yagé – is not being imported from North America (in fact, quite the opposite, many North Americans are catching onto Yagé and the chemical DMT, known is some circles as the ‘Spirit Molecule’. In the town, we bought some supplies, but noticed that the prices were increasing as the supply roots continued to be cut off by the strike.  We found ourselves perched in an ethical dilemma: ideologically we support the workers, that they may earn their rights and have their industries protected from foreign multinationals.  Still, we found ourselves eyeing the calendar with the knowledge that in 3 weeks’ time, we had to get out of Colombia and back to the US for my brothers’ wedding (seems trite in comparison, but such are the lives we lead).

Luckily for us, Taita was eager to teach us more during our time.  He asked me to help him cook the medicine, a process which takes (I now know) 8 full days.  We began by harvesting many leaves of a vine called chagro (these leaves bring the visions when drinking Yagé – chemically speaking they contain DMT).  During this harvesting process, which involved all of the volunteers and the family, we encountered a venomous snake called ‘Gata’ that is quite dangerous and at least 2 meters in length.  After a machete to the head, Taita held his prize.

Taita and the snake (note the head on the ground).

The man is a miracle worker.  Moments later, a friend was stung by a wasp when she got too close to a nest.  We found the nest hanging eye level, buzzing with angry wasps.  He approached the nest after a few moments, once the wasps had settled. He held out his hand, and put it so close to the wasps that they pulsated on the nest, vibrating in warning.  He was nearly touching them, but they did not leave the nest.  Then, he asked for a cigarette. “Just give them a kiss,” he said. He lit the cigarette, took one puff, and blew it into the nest.  The wasps swarmed from the nest directly towards him, circling in a black cloud around his head.  He stood calmly, forming the eye of the storm, and blew another puff of smoke into the fray.  Then, with the wasps nearly cleared from the nest into the torrent around him, he calmly, delicately, broke the branch to which the nest was connected with his left hand.  Then he turned the nest by twisting the branch, and with a last puff of smoke from the cigarette in his right hand, blew the remaining wasps from the hole of the nest.  This whole time the wasps were swarming and buzzing ferociously around Taita’s head, yet his demeanor showed only the peaceful and jovial youthfulness we had come to know from him.  He walked the nest to a nearby fence, followed all the way by the swarm, and gently set the branch in a new resting place there.  Then, he walked calmly back to start harvesting more leaves.  He laughed, and said “You see, do not be afraid.  All these wasps, they haven’t stung me once.  If you have enough love, then everything will love you.”

The empty nest.

Wow!  What a lesson.  He encouraged me to try the same trick, but there was no room for ego in that maneuver – “I don’t have enough love yet” I told him, and he knew it was true.

Tending the huge fire.

After harvesting enough leaves to fill a 50-gallon bucket, we began cooking.  This involved lighting a massive fire, using full tree trunks, to boil water with the leaves, thus extracting the nutrients from the chagro.  Yet, bringing 50 gallons of water to a boil is not easy; it is sweaty, constant work.  While Taita and his faithful companion Gaspar brought wood from the forest, I began axing and macheteing them into shape, and continued adding them to the fire.

Cleaning the vines and branches, scraping bark with Paz and Gaspar.

Many times I failed to keep the fire the right temperature, and sometimes I even drowned it of air and let it go out completely.  I thought, after all these years, that I knew about fire.  But Taita, calmly, patiently, always with love, calmed me and explained my errors, showing the proper way to manage the inferno.  He told me quite frankly: “it’s okay, you don’t know the countryside”, another truth I would have to accept from this beautiful man, although after two years in Zambia and nearly a year in Colombia living in the bush, this was a hard truth to accept. Still, such was the wisdom of Taita that I heard him,  I was humbled, learned, and we continued the process.

Preparing the medicine.

After three days of cooking these leaves, stirring with a huge wooden stick, we had chagro water (a liquid of thick green consistency that smelled a bit like spinach).  Then, we added Yagé (verdehuasca, to be exact) leaves.  We also harvested the roots and branches of the Yagé vine.  Next, we had to scrape the outer bark to remove the dirt and the hard cover.  Once this was completed (another half-day’s work, given the amount of Yagé), we pounded the vine, separating the soft inner-flesh from the bark.  We then boiled with the leaves the mashed pieces of bark.  This process was repeated three times (that is, we boiled down the water until it had reached the desired consistency, and then filled the 50-gallon pot again with water and repeated the process.)

Now we had lots of chagro-Yagé water, made only from leaves and the bark.  Next, we added a small pot of water and boiled it with the Yagé root itself (small in comparison – probably about 20 gallons in size).  This process was the most important, and it was during this time that I found the spirit ‘singing’ to me – that is, a catchy tune and detailed lyrics suddenly came to me, in Spanish (I doubt that I could sit down and write a lyric in Spanish, let alone create a whole song without trying or thinking). After this water was boiled down, a thick and black brew with an acrid smell, we mixed it with the chagro-water.  Now we had a strong, dark concoction that needed to be further boiled until it had concentrated.  This took another day, but a very painstaking one.  With just liquid, the pot would over-boil very easily, and much of our hard work would be lost to the fire.

To the left is the chagro water with the bark of the ayahuasca, and on the right the ayahuasca mixture.

Taita, of course, was with me throughout, teaching me his time-honored method that he had learned from his Taita (father), who had learned from his Taita, and so on and so forth.  Claire helped when she could, and cooked wonderful food and interacted in her beautiful way, but for most of the process we were apart.  I was told not to bath, as cold water could be dangerous to my blood, it being so hot from the work near the fire.  So for 6 days I worked in such a way and maybe it was better for Claire’s sake that we kept our distance.

Taita and his father, a shaman and elder of the Kamëntsá tribe.

When the medicine was finished, the liquid had evaporated and become much thicker – about the consistency of oil. Taita invited us to drink that night.  We participated in a ceremony with a beautiful family of neighbors.  Their small 4-year-old daughter was sick, and had been for some time, and they had tried all the modern remedies available to them, to no avail.  When they came, Taita prayed for the child, he gave her some cleansing water and blessed her.  Then he encouraged her family to stay to drink the medicine, and be cleansed, that they may help heal the child.  Taita is well known in the town of Mocoa.  Many families and individuals came to seek Taita's healings and teaching while we stayed with him for 5 weeks.  Some would bring nothing more than the photo of a sick family member, others would walk great distances.  All sought out the knowledge and ability of this shaman to cleanse them and heal them and their loved ones.

Artist's interpretation of the healing process.

 The family had come for this reason, and we drank with the father, the four year old daughter’s older brother (12) and sister (16), and even a small spoonful for the sick child herself, as their mother watched on.  The medicine was strong – I had never before felt such a strong connection with the spirit, as if she was leading me, and I had no choice but to follow.  After all, I had helped to create this brew, and I felt somehow more connected because of it. I found myself humming the same tune that I had learned by the fire, and the spirit responded, intensifying its effect. 

Plant medicine.

During this time, Taita was hard at work.  The daughter vomited, and then went to sleep. Brother and sister the same.  This time was for the father of the sick girl.  Taita sat the man – who was now clearly deeply in touch with the Yagé – in a chair, and began praying to the Father, Son, Mother, and the Holy Spirit (the medicine) to heal.  Then he began calling to the Yagé spirit.  After about an hour of intense chanting and working with the father seated on a stool, praying and singing over him, he asked the man to remove all clothing but his underwear – it was now about 4 in the morning, and it was quite cold.  Then, Taita took a branch from a local nettle called ortiga (I don’t know how to describe the bite of ortiga, though I have encountered it many times while clearing bush.  It has small, pointy thorns which prick the skin, and leave a sensation which is somewhere between pain and itching, but in a most unpleasant way) and began rubbing it all over the mans body (a process we had seen before in Taita’s ceremony, performed on his son, and by his son on himself to strengthen the nervous system and invigorate the body)  He circled the man, rubbing the nettle more and more intensely as he himself became entranced, using all his energy to free the bad spirits from the father and the family, that the child may be cured.  The man, who must have been in more pain than I care to imagine, hardly even flinched.  He sat stoically, eyes forward, welcoming his cleansing to cure his body, and in doing so, his family and his daughter.

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The sound file above is of Taita singing 'father, mother, help and teach us' in his native tongue, Kamëntsá

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Gaspar and Patricio the morning after the ceremony.

Finally, the work with the ortiga ended.  Then, Taita, Gaspar (who, though older than Taita has worked with him for over 30 years), and an Argentinean friend named Patricio began smoking a cigar each, puffing and exhaling as rapidly as possible, billowing smoke onto the man while walking in a circle around him.  Tobacco is a very sacred plant, and is known as the protector spirit, and this ritual was completed to protect the family, now that the evil spirits had been chased away.  The three of them finished their cigars in less than 5 minutes of intense puffing, spitting, and whistling away the energies.  It was quite a sight, and it took real dedication from all involved.  It was a beautiful moment for Claire and me – to witness the cleansing, to feel and be part of a traditional healing ceremony, and to open our minds to the idea that if someone is sick, the entire family must accept responsibility to help and improve the situation by cleaning their energies.  Thus, they cure the illness but not by treating the symptoms, as we are used to in our culture, but rather by seeking to change the root causes of the problems.  All energies are part of one whole, interconnected, and each has the power to heal another by healing one’s self.

By the time this cleansing had ended, the sun was rising.  Claire and I had watched the whole thing in awe, and now awaited another beautiful day together, finding energy in the newborn sun.  Taita woke the rest of the family, and told them that their daughter would now be cured.  He offered some small remedies to give the child the following night, and told them that they should live free and happy, resting assured that things would begin to improve. 

When we asked about the child a week later, we learned that she had overcome her sickness, and that she was beginning to recover altogether from the nervousness and night traumas from which she had previously suffered.

For our part, we were still looking to the north, searching for an opportunity to pass the blockade.  Yet still more experiences lay in our path.

Teachings with Taita Part I

We spent hours in a bus descending “the road of death” – a switchback, gravel road which winds its way from the Colombian highlands in Sibundoy down to the upper-Amazon forest, with sheer cliffs serving as a constant reminder of the precarious position we hold in this world. When we arrived in Mocoa, a Couchsurfing collaboration lead us to a place about which we had already been told. Having lost all of our Colombian friends’ numbers, and the names of the places we should stay in Mocoa (of which the house of Taita was at the top of the list), it was as if the place had found us.

The painting of Taita which welcomes visitors before they descend from the road into the forest, crossing two rivers before reaching the home.

We arrived with some bags of produce, rice, beans, and lentils, to find a community of about 12 travelers, living in tents in a shelter outside the home of an indigenous family of the Kamentsá tribe. We promptly met Taita (meaning father), and his wife Mama, as well as their three sons. We were told we could camp as long as we wanted, and that we should feed ourselves with the community of travelers staying there. All had come for more or less the same reason: to learn from the family, and their traditional medicine, Yagé. 

To set the tone, this video is a song written about the spirit of Yagé.   Much of the song that is not in Spanish is sung in the language of Taita and Mama: Kamentsá. 

The Yagé vine.  More than 8 varieties grow at Taita's.

Yagé, also known as Ayahuasca, has been traditionally used throughout the Amazon region since time immemorial. Many indigenous tribes include this sacred plant in their creation story. The great serpents of the past crept up the land from the Ocean, and as they died, their bodies formed the great rivers of the continent of South America, with their ribs forming the many tributaries. Up these rivers traveled the great-grandfathers, the chiefs, the curanderos (literally translated means “curers”, or medicine-men), the women, and the workers, who carried with them in their dug-out canoes sacred plants, generally including cassava, coca, and Yagé. Over many generations, the plant – born in the Amazon – made its way to cultures in higher altitudes, including the Andean cultures of the Inca. The name Ayahuasca stems from the Inca language, meaning ‘vine spirit’. 

The Ayahuasca vine. Every part of the plant: the root,

the bark, the leaves is used in preparation 

of the medicine.

The plant has been used by curanderos, shamans, and Taitas/Mamas from numerous tribes, where it is known as “the great teacher”. Yagé itself is a vine, which is harvested, processed, mixed with other leaves, and boiled to produce a potent brew which is bitter and not easily digested. After imbibing the vine spirit, participants purge via vomiting and diarrhea, thus ‘purifying’ their bodies. This is followed by the presence of the spirit Yagé inside the student, which includes ‘visions’ or ‘paintings’ which are visual aids used by the spirit to teach lessons to those who seek the Yagé’s knowledge. During this process, the shaman who is present administers and also drinks the medicine. True curanderos have trained with the medicine for many, many years, and are therefore experienced and knowledgeable about the vine spirit; they are able to manage its influence, playing instruments, singing songs and dancing to invoke and please the spirit while protecting the space from evil and cleaning the energy of the patients. Drinking Yagé is not for the faint of heart; the medicine is intense, and despite many beautiful moments of clarity and oneness that it may offer, it is also known to conjure inner demons and force one to face deep-seated personal problems. As any great teacher, it tests the student. The results are worth the effort, and deep spiritual progress, visions of the future and integration and conversation with the great Mother (earth) are often reported from those who practice regularly with the medicine. 

 

An artist's interpretation of the Ayahuasca spirit. 

The Amazon's healers and holders of knowledge

and spiritual growth

Within this context we arrived at the house, greeted by Taita with an invitation to drink the following evening. We were to stay for 3 or 4 days, during which time we hoped to drink twice. The social situation among the travelers was interesting, as it appeared that most were not working with the family, although many had been there several weeks. We found the Taita the next day, and since I had brought gumboots (there was only one other traveler with the Campesinos or Farmer’s footwear of choice), he was excited about my eagerness to work. I began with another traveler, a young Colombian named Miguel, by hauling water up a steep slope, so that Taita could continually load a 5-gallon hand-held irrigator in order to fumigate a plot of land. During this time, I was amazed at Taita’s youthful, vibrant energy. A man of 58 years, he was (as is becoming the custom) easily able to outwork us, but all the while with a smile, a jovial chuckle, and the occasional cigar break. After a long day’s work, we went to a nearby waterfall, where we bathed and refreshed our energy in the cool, crystal waters. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon in preparation. Before drinking Ayahuasca, most Shamans ask their patients to have a ‘proposito’ or purpose for the medicine. That is, those drinking the medicine should be doing so to learn something, to heal themselves, or to seek insight or wisdom (specific or general). It can be dangerous to casually take Ayahuasca without purpose or intention – simply for the ‘experience’ or ‘high’ – and many Shamans screen their participants to ensure such people will not take the medicine, as the spirit is known to punish those we drink it without proper respect. Thus, a day of fasting combined with deep thought and meditation was how Claire and I prepared for our journey. Mentally we prepared ourselves to search our ‘propositos’, and we made sure we were strong and rested for the night ahead.

 

At the house of Taita and Mama, where ceremony is held. 

Madre Tierra/ The Virgin in the background with many

instruments for creating music and dance.

 About 9 PM, Taita let us know it was time for our first ceremony. The ceremony was just Claire, myself, Taita, and his son. We began with another cleansing tradition – called Yopo in this part of Colombia (“Yopo” as it is commonly known in other parts of Colombia refers to a different, highly hallucinogenic leaf). In Mocoa, Yopo is tobacco leaf, roasted and ground finely into a brown powder. This powder is then put into a small pipe, and blown into sinus cavity via the nostril, one at a time. The ensuing sensation begins as a small fire which quickly spreads to the inner-nose and throat. One cannot breath from the nostrils, and calm is needed to keep the breath through the mouth as the nose burns, the eyes water, and the coughing begins. After a few minutes, the burning passes, and the nose runs out the tobacco. The resulting feeling is one of incredibly clear breathing, like the light sting of dry, cold air as it passes through the nose on a winters’ morning. Thus having cleaned our breathing apparatus and sinuses, we began the ceremony.

 Taita begins by praying in Spanish to the Father, Mother, and Holy Spirit – as he is a devout Christian. He also prays to the ‘Madre Tierra’ (Mother Earth), the spirit of the Yagé, the Virgin Mary, and Jesus. His mix of Christianity and Indigenous belief blended so seamlessly that I found myself wondering if such disparate ideas couldn’t be reconciled, after all. Then he blessed the medicine through a series of songs and cantations, and we stood one-by-one to drink the thick brew from a small cup.

 

Photo of Taita in traditional costume which hangs

above the ceremony table.  His necklaces each

make a different sound when shaken.

The drink tasted sweet – a testament to the Taita’s skill in brewing the medicine. Still, it had the consistency of motor oil, and its acrid, bitter aftertaste clung to the tongue and teeth. After drinking with intention, and praying to the spirit that we receive guidance, we sat in the dark and waited in meditation. Normally it takes about 30 minutes before one vomits, but the idea is to hold the medicine (guantalo!) as long as possible, to keep as much of the spirit as possible inside the body. These minutes build in intensity, as the stomach begins bubbling. The sensation started for me in the tips of the fingers, a slight tingling, which grew its way up the arms and into the chest. Then my stomach began to rumble, and my head felt the spirit entering, like someone massaging my hair, but the sensation reaching throughout the brain.

The vomit was the best I’ve ever had. I know that sounds strange. The intensity of the medicine inside the body is such that when one releases the medicine, it is like purifying all the negative energy from one’s being. The liquid comes out easily, as we practiced fasting for the day before drinking. Thus, one is left with a light, connected feeling. During this ceremony I began to feel the barriers between myself and all the energy around me dissolving. My limbs were absorbed by the surrounding environment, I became one with everything, and the lower I slumped into my chair, the more I felt I was floating away from my ego and into nothing (which –it seemed perfectly obvious at the time - was simultaneously everything).

La Madre

I was deep in the arms of Mother Ayahuasca. I felt all my cares lift, all my worldly concerns, hopes, dreams (my ego) meshed with the nature around me. At intervals, Miguel and the Taita would sing, play their harmonicas, and dance, calling to the Vine Spirit, beckoning her to teach us, and channeling her energy through their bodies. Tatia was dressed in a traditional vest, with a necklace of boar teeth that rattle with every movement, and a headband of Tiger colors. When he came by me, waving me with a fan of leaves which bristled with sound and energy as it passed just in front of the face, I felt him bring me back to the world. Then I would drift into the Mothers’ arms again, only to be retrieved by Taita’s calming song. As I opened my eyes to Taita, he was a gentle giant looming over me –larger than life. This man, who stands about 5’2”, was so big that he could have thrown me on his shoulders like a small child. 

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Taita playing the harmonica to summon the Yage spirit

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We drank twice that night. Claire and I were both having very profound experiences. I opened my eyes to visions of people trying to hand me things – worldly things, such as a cup of brew, a beer, a book. I reached to take these things, and my hands passed through the apparition offering me the ‘gift’. I had asked the Yagé to help me spiritually, to help me dissolve my Ego and embrace peace and love in my life. As I lost hope in the material things offered to me, the Vine Spirits’ lesson began to sink in. I absorbed lessons from the great teacher that seem obvious and intuitive - that life must be lived with love, and peace.  That unity with one another and mother nature must be our primary goals.  That we do not live in competition with one another, but rather in cooperation. That the more we share love, the more love we gain, because it is infinite. These lessons were taught not through logic or intellect, but rather experience.  I was living these lessons, in every moment, pure truth.

Later in the night, I began to drift from the Mother’s Arms into pure sleep. I was exhausted from hosting the spirit for the evening. Taita came and put a hand on my head. I could feel his energy, his love, flowing through me. I explained ruefully how tired I was. 

“Don’t worry” he comforted me. “I will teach you.”

 

Taita the morning after ceremony drinking Chicha and full of energy and light.

 The next day was one of revelation and purity, as we talked of our experiences and tried to sort out the lessons from the visions we had been given. Claire felt she had been given a huge gift from the Mother, a ‘giant hug from the universe’ as she described it. She also described feeling the ego and the boundaries between the ‘self’ and the ‘rest’ dissolve into the enlightenment of purity. At one point, during the ceremony, as Taita walked over to her, she felt their energies so connected that he was she and she he, one being. Meditation the following morning carried me to a place where I did not exist in isolation of my surroundings – for the first time in my life.

 I continued to work with Taita, fumigating and hauling water, and expressing interest in learning more from him about the medicine. Of course, we would be leaving in a matter of days, so I knew my time was short and I should work as hard as possible to earn his respect and learn what I could. Yet I would need more time. Claire also felt this draw, but we had to leave to visit our friends. We had plans. The best laid plans …