Thank you Mother Ayahuasca, for the peek under the hood

“There’s got to be a better way,” I thought to myself as I carried the fifth bucket of water to the raging fire out in the parched yucca fields. The Shipibo locals were hurried but surprisingly relaxed about the situation, accustomed as they were to renegade fires while burning the fields for crop rotation; but … Continue reading Thank you Mother Ayahuasca, for the peek under the hood

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This is not the story I meant to write, but it’s the one that needed to be written.

On the hard clay shore of the Río Villano in the Ecuadorian Amazon, me and another volunteer jump around, shaking our limbs and wiggling our bodies to keep the tiny biting flies, known as chuspies, from leaving more angry red welts on our skin. We have also partially covered ourselves in the clay upon which … Continue reading This is not the story I meant to write, but it’s the one that needed to be written.

Evidence of foul play on a Thursday morning.

Chichicastenango, Guatemala. Thursday morning, market day. 9:31AM. I wake up on the tiny couch and stretch my cramped muscles. Most of the woolly blankets I had piled on the night before are now bunched up on the floor next to my overflowing backpack. I often marvel at how much it resembles a drunkard, vomiting up … Continue reading Evidence of foul play on a Thursday morning.