Bane's marvellous medicine...

With the eagle and condor now fully in flight, the third ceremony saw the appearance of Ixá and Bane.  There's no mistaking the authenticity of these characters, they personify the archetypal image of Amazonian shaman.  Representing the Kaxinauá tribe, Ixá is the Pajé, or tribal leader, with Bane following in his footsteps for the coming generation.

The temple was slightly less crowded but still full of people keen to be part of another ceremony in a different style.  After a couple of hours waiting, the tension slowly building, the maestros arrived and took their place at the far end of the maloka.  They were five in all, dressed in very impressive outfits, each headdress utilising more feathers than a Bernard Matthews farm produces in a year.  One in particular looked like a character from 'The Last of the Mohicans', an imposing figure, naked from the waist up with a huge array of black and white feathers cascading down from his head.  Truly from a different world.

The circle was opened with some blessings and prayers, the spectators growing still and silent.  Two queues formed of people eager for another taste of the marvellous medicine.  Once all thirst had been quenched people sat in their places and became increasingly peaceful.  After a period of silence Ixá began singing his icaros.  These simple songs came one after another with lots of repetition, little hesitation and no deviation from their intended purpose.  Gradually they worked with the ayahuasca now flowing freely in the bodies of the pasajeros.  As the medicine grew stronger it played with my visual perception, causing the surroundings to shimmer before me.

The experience became more intense as the music began to move my body automatically, bypassing the mind's control.  People nearby were either sitting or lying on the floor, the energy of the icaros being less vigorous than the previous ceremonies, more hypnotic.  After some time we were asked to stand and approach the centre of the temple.  Holding hands we were guided through some icaros which we all sang as one.  Raising our hands together with one line of the song and dropping them with the next.  A really special moment for everyone judging by the ear to ear grins on the faces before me.  "It's like an ayahuasca hokey-cokey," observed my good friend.  This was followed by the ayahuasca conga, everyone being connected by placing their hands on the shoulders of the person in front.  The line of people snaked through the temple this way and that to the beat of the drum.  "Should be called the anaconga," the same friend remarked before continuing her stand-up set by suggesting it was like an ayahuasca Butlins' camp.

With the medicine ebbing from our systems the delivery of more medicine was announced.  Again the queues formed and I joined one, keen to feel the medicine more strongly.  As I approached the front of the queue I saw the medicine on offer wasn't ayahuasca but ra-pe, a powdered mixture of plants including tobacco which is taken as you would snuff.  Although I'd had this before I wasn't a fan.  It burns the nose, makes me sneeze and then blocks my sinuses for about an hour.  However, it was too late to turn back so I crossed my fingers and sat before the shaman.  Through his special pipe, he delivered the dose into my nostrils one after the other with a little blow.  The ra-pe shot through my nasal cavity and hit the back of my throat.  The burn kicked in as I wended my way back to my place.  Sitting at the side the medicine began to take hold.  The burn began to fill my head with a fuzzy sensation.  A bit like having static in your mind, a field of quantum potentiality.  It was difficult to take but at the same time felt great.  After swaying for about five minutes I realised the ra-pe was working in conjunction with the ayahuasca.  My stomach began to churn and, without warning, its contents began to fly up my gullet threatening to cover my neighbours unless I could escape.  Luckily the maloka had low walls and I was able to hop outside just as the spray began to issue forth.  I staggered a little way into the trees before the full purge came.  Crouching,  holding a tree for support, I delivered the gastric soup directly to the roots of a delicate little plant.  We quickly became friends as it soaked up the vomit and had its leaves covered in snot sprayed out of my nose in a succession of sneezes.  It felt amazing to be sick, I could feel ayahuasca in my body cleaning me, absorbing the negativity and discharging itself back to the earth.  Is it normal to actually enjoy throwing up?

A little while later, when I could finally inhale through my nose once more, another glass of ayahuasca was given.  Again the power of the medicine grew as more music was played.  Strong songs using guitars, drums and rattles gave the temple the feeling of a tribal setting.  As if we were actually in the jungle - ancient and sacred.  The heavy atmosphere caused one guy to kick off, not one of our contingent this time.  A large guy at the other side of the maloka suddenly began shouting at someone else.  "Respect the ceremony!" he demanded in Portuguese.  I'd no idea what this other person had been doing but, strangely, the target of this outburst had been saying the same thing to don Javier, an incredible maestro, only the previous night.  Instant karma!  The only other person who appeared to have a really difficult time was an English girl who, when waiting for a cup of ayahuasca, had a frog jump onto her cheek.  Naturally this freaked her out considerably and she spent the rest of the evening being comforted by friends and healers.  Animal magic.

Bane's box of tricks had one more surprise in store - eye drops.  One of the shaman made his way through the temple administering the drops to everyone's eyes.  Closed at first, the drops were placed on the eyelids before opening to allow the liquid to cover the eyeball.  I've no idea what was in that solution but it burnt like crazy.  Tears were streaming down people's cheeks, they were blindly staggering around with hands pressed to their faces.  A little like a crowd of protestors immersed in tear gas, everyone took the pain whilst it slowly diminished.  The eyes were left feeling clear and bright.  Shamanic Optrex.

Shortly after three the ceremony was brought to a close by once again forming a circle and singing together.  A lovely end to another great night.  The general consensus was that the evening hadn't been quite as good at Mao Tanka but still powerful.  Strong, clean medicine and lots of purging.  A walk home in the dark was followed by a collapse into my tent, my mind once again flooded with awe and gratitude.