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The night we undertook the Ayahuasca ceremony, two women turned up. I had never seen them but Francisco, the donkey driver, told me that they were seeking cure to their physical ailments.
The ceremony was undertaken in a little hut, the shaman did the long preparations and eventually drank the liquid from a little vase made out of bark. We all watched him and grabbed our hands. The chanting from him started becoming sharper and sharper, and we fell into the magnetism created by his voice and inspiration. Next I took the liquid. It was a little dry in my tongue but it also tasted like wood and flowers. I drank my portion, and followed the indications of the shaman. He sat down on the ground,and that was the last thing I can recall from the session itself. A blast in my mind opened up somethign and I started feeling the rumour of the animals in their shelters, the trees pumping sap and the heart of the jungle beating and producing a hissing sound. Everything became clear, everything of the sort never thought or experienced. And then my mother-side grandfather was sittign down on the ground. I had come to talk to him and he was there wearing the gown of the shaman and telling me that the sorrow was deep in my heart, that he could tell me now all what I wanted to know about our family and the thigns that have been torturing me for many years.
The state lasted many hours, and the words turned music and then that hissing sound filling my brain with so many things I had never heard before, so when I woke up my hands were touching the ground, and I felt that I did not want to move in order to keep the feeling of peace and light. The shaman had gone, it was already dawn,and then all of a sudden I felt my face wet with tears, tears sent as a hopeful message from a world our people lost long ago.