On Aug 9, 2017 I was set to arrive from Cusco to Pucallpa, Peru for a 6 day Dieta with Ivan. After many hours of delayed and missed flights in Lima I arrived around 12:30 at night when I was supposed to arrive at 10:45am. William Llerena , our Shaman, picked me up at the airport in Pucallpa, in a TukTuk. William speaks zero English. We jumped in the back of the Tuk Tuk and the hot, humid air quickly had me sweating within my layers of jackets from the cold airport hours. We drove the TukTuk 30 mins or so and stopped at a river. It was pitch black out. We grabbed our bags and headed down to the river bank and jumped in a small wooden banana boat. It was myself, William and the boat driver. I had no clue where we were going; guided only by the light of the moon.
After 30 more mins or so we arrived at a very small unstable wooden dock. We grabbed our bags and carefully stepped out of the boat onto the dock. I followed William up a rickety wooden path atop the muddy Amazon waters. We entered the Center (which I could not make out besides what little light the cell phone provided). William walked me to the Maluca where Iván, David (Williams helper) and two others awoke upon our arrival. I hugged Iván after an eventful day of travel. I felt safe in that moment to see him, knowing he’d been at the center since the morning hours.
William showed signs of starting the ceremony. I asked if I could quickly change into my white ceremony clothes before we began. David guided me to my room with my stuff and of course there was no light. I quickly found my flashlight, changed my clothes and hurried back to the Maluca.
I got situated on the only empty mat on the floor and immediately found myself drinking ayahuasca for the 31st time. Yet it was new medicine, a new Shaman, and completely new territory in the jungle. I was 100% going with the flow and trusting in the moment. Even if I had wanted to run, I couldn’t have. I didn’t know where I was, and I had no cell service; I was at the mercy of the experience. All I could do was completely surrender.
We were asked to sit up for the entire ceremony which took a lot of energy, as I was completely drained. It was almost 1:30am. I slowly felt the medicine coming on. We sat in silence. The sound of the jungle life surrounded us. After an hour or so, William began to play the first Icaro. I had heard of Williams musical gift, but hearing him strum the guitar instantly melted my soul. I felt so warm inside, so safe, and so completely in love. In love with that exact moment. In love with every moment that had lead me to this point.
Aya started telling me how proud she is of me, for diligently listening to her guidance and my dedication to this work. Aya told me simply “you are the Communicator”. I was shown/told that my gift was the use of my voice to communicate which Spirit wants to be spoken. The Icaros played on and I found myself in a mess of tears, though not out of sadness. They were tears of immense gratitude for the moment. How did I end up there? How was I this blessed to be in this cocoon? How did I feel safe and warm? I listened and I surrendered and I trusted the process. I felt so freakin’ blessed. Tears of gratitude melted me to sleep sitting up against the Maluca wall until William closed the ceremony. I clumsily walked in the dark down the wobbly wooden deck to my room. I found my bed using my tiny flashlight, threw the white mosquito net over my bed and fell asleep to the sound of the jungle.
Considering I had arrived so late the previous night, I had no clue as to what the schedule was. The following morning I was awoken by David knocking on my door and quietly speaking Spanish to me through the screen walls of my room. It was already hot and sticky and probably 8am; the sounds of roosters howled through the jungle. I was called out of my room to begin the Purgitivo. All I knew was that I was going to purge out of both ends, but nothing more. Luckily I had Iván with me to translate. We all trusted William, so we didn’t ask too many questions, again, we knew these were ancient Indigenous traditions so we surrendered to the moment. Myself, Iván, and Robert were instructed by William (our Shaman) to sit on the edge of the wooden deck with our legs dangling over the edge. We were all handed a tiny child size glass filled about 1/8th with a dark green liquid (We later learned the green liquid was called Yawar Panga.). All we were told, or, what was translated to me, was to drink the green liquid then immediately chug 8 liters of water as quickly as possible. Without question or hesitation I followed the instructions. The green drink tasted just fine, almost like a small shot of wheat grass. Then the water chugging game began. One liter down without much reaction. I asked for a refill and began liter two. A few gulps in I began to cough, and of course you know what this lead to…. exorcist-type projectile puking. Sadly, the puke was so aggressive it splashed up on to Iván’s bare legs, but we found a moment to giggle at the situation.
The purging was over which meant the chugging continued. Soon I was two liters down and by liter 4 the chugging and puking became a struggle. I noticed a weird iron taste in my mouth by that point so I paid more attention to the puke coming out. And realized I had begun puking blood! This scared the heck out of me. Between breaths I looked over at William as he diligently watched over us and asked him in Spanish if that was blood, just to ensure I wasn’t seeing things. He confirmed my assumption and assured me it was completely normal. He mentioned this was caused by an ulcer and it was healing the stomach and intestines. I knew to follow instructions and keep going. Counting and purging and praying liter 8 would come soon. With fierce determination, liter 8 came faster than expected. I was instructed to not drink anymore after that point or I would continue to puke. I jumped off the deck feeling somewhat good considering what I’d just gone through. Iván finished and went straight to his bed. I was still purging backwards so I locked myself in my room to be close to the toilet. Many trips from bed to toilet transpired over the next hour. Then the fun began… my body began to ache and the constant purging had me all sweaty. I decided to go to Iván’s room to lay on the spare bed as the pain was beginning to get too intense. I flopped on the spare twin bed on the other side of his room. I laid there moaning from the aches and pains and still many trips to the toilet. Every time before a purge was on the horizon my body would begin to sweat profusely and I’d waddle to Ivan’s bathroom. At that point the purge was still coming from both ends. Iván and I both went on for hours like that; both moaning in our beds, sitting up to puke and waddling to the restroom.
At some point David showed up at the door with soup. He saw how sick we both were and suggested we try to eat a little or at least get some broth down. Thinking this was going to help considering I had not had any food for 24 hours, nope, puked it right up. Plus, the soup was very poor tasting, just a few veggies like carrots, cauliflower, some green leafy thing and zero flavor. Oh yeah, this was part of the Dieta… no sugar, no salt, no soap for our hands or in the shower nor can we talk to anyone not on the Dieta.
A few hours passed and the purging seemed to slow down from every 10 minutes to every 30 minutes, but the aches and pains and sweating continued. At some point I started having weird visions of the room moving, I knew I just needed to sleep, but could not freaking fall asleep as the discomfort was too great. I looked over at Iván and noticed he’d fallen asleep. I tried to do the same, but my trips to the bathroom prevented me from getting any rest. The sound of me puking would roar through the jungle as if a dang bear was coming out of me.
I started to puke foamy yellow stuff and I was getting close to hour 6 or so. Of course Iván laid there looking so peaceful as he slept. I was so envious of his rest, I just needed a break and didn’t see any end in sight. I layed back in bed and now thoughts became worrisome. Should this be lasting this long? Am I safe? Is this what’s supposed to happen? William or David haven’t check on us in a long time. Can they hear me puking? I decided I needed to go and check in with either David or William to see if this was normal. It took me every ounce of energy to walk my ass from the very back of the Center to the front where the main house is. Mind you, I still had no clue what the house/ kitchen looked like as I’d been in the back of the Center since I arrived in the dark. I saw a woman in the bare makeshift kitchen and she greeted me with a warm smile. I probably looked like a drowned rat that crawled out of the jungle itself. She immediately noticed how sick I was and I asked for William. David came from the door at the back of the kitchen and informed me William had gone into town. They both immediately started to discuss ways to help me feel better. David prepared me more soup, but this time he added salt. The woman suggested that David get me a coconut from the tree outside for the water. He heated the soup and put it on the table in front of me. I was sitting on the chair in the living area, like a wet towel. I seriously couldn’t move; the pain and aches were too intense.
David was outside climbing a tree to get me a coconut, while the woman came to me saying things in Spanish which I couldn’t even being to translate. Not only was I too tired to use my brain to translate, but her Spanish was mixed with Quechua and I couldn’t make out what she was saying. She started to massage my head with aggressive hand motions, squeezing her hands together on each side of my head quickly moving from side to side. She kept encouraging me to drink more of the soup as she continued massaging me. She worked her way down to my abdomen with the same pressure and aggressiveness. I was not sure if she should be pushing on my stomach so hard, but I would have tried anything at that point.
I was able to get a few sips of the broth down and David returned with a warm coconut water. They both sat there looking at me with compassion and making sure I was keeping down the soup and water. At some point Iván showed up and sat at the table with me. I had given up on eating or drinking anything else. He looked refreshed after his nap. He did all he could to comfort me as I sat there with despair written all over my face. All I coud do at that point was cry. Wondering when this would be over, is this supposed to last this long? Iván suggested I go back to his room to try to sleep. He walked with me back to his room and I again flopped on the bed. I was so sweaty and so sticky, but nothing mattered at that point. I finally managed to fall asleep as Iván sat in his bed reading. I think I slept for an hour or so, but when I woke up, I felt like a new human. I chatted with Iván and knew I should probably get more food in my system. I think it was 8pm or so. It was dark outside and the jungle was singing. I was still very weak, but managed to walk back to the kitchen to get that salty soup. I sat at the table again and forced myself to eat. I downed only a few bites.
I made it back to my room and once again flopped on my bed, threw the mosquito net over myself and quickly fell back to sleep.
Three Wandering Gypsies 
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