It was really unexpected.” It’s common to abstain from sex - as well as alcohol, other drugs, and red meat - for several days before and during an ayahuasca ceremony. “A lot of us were really surprised by that - we’re rolling around, seeing all this weird sexy stuff and feeling all this weird sexy stuff. “You can have a lot of really sexual visions and feelings while you’re tripping on ayahuasca,” the American woman had said. The man replies, “Its ability to get you high.”Īn ayahuasca trip can also be an extremely erotic experience. “What makes a plant sacred?” an off-camera questioner asks. In a YouTube parody video, a vague-eyed, long-haired man sporting a lacy, turquoise headband underlines this point: “You can refer to ayahuasca as plant medicine, medicine, a sacred plant, a sacrament - but it is not a drug,” he says primly. This reputation for healing is one reason ayahuasca is a drug that you’re not supposed to call a drug. It was one of the crowning experiences of my life.” “It enables you to understand what can only be described in hymns or poems by Rumi. “It’s been incredibly healing for me,” an American woman who went on an ayahuasca retreat last year told me. The tourism is fueled by the personal testimonials of people who say the drug changed their lives - helping them to recover from trauma, quit drinking, or finally get over their childhood sexual abuse. Ayahuasca rituals have become an expected part of the South American itinerary for a certain type of traveler: today, river rafting tomorrow, a transcendent drug experience. “Tourism went from something that was very sporadic, very low-key backpacker tourism, to a flourishing industry with a lot of competing lodges,” anthropologist Daniela Peluso told me. There’s no official count, but some experts estimate that there are now hundreds of spiritual centers offering ayahuasca ceremonies throughout South and Central America, many of which are booked months in advance. More recently, it has become the center of a rapidly growing shaman-tourism industry. The “medicine” Ross took with the shaman was ayahuasca, a bitter, sludgy liquid, made from the labor-intensive combination of two plants native to South America, that has been used in the Amazon as a holistic medicinal treatment for centuries.
“That’s when she told me that they were bonded through this - I forget the name of the drink that they do. Her concern piqued, Ainlay gently suggested that Ross was so isolated in this village, and so immersed in a culture that wasn’t her own, that perhaps she had lost her bearings a little bit.
“She would say that it was meant to be, and she would say that it was forever - but she was in a daze, talking almost in a monotone,” Ainlay said. Something immediately struck Ainlay as off. The two women found a space to sit in a guest hut, and Ross said that she and the shaman were in love. The day before the Dixons were set to depart, Ross asked Ainlay if they could speak privately. The family went on walks in the jungle with the shaman’s son, who rattled off the names and medicinal uses of the plants they came across. Over the next few days, the Dixons’ children played soccer with the village kids. The novelty of the experience was tempered by the presence of another American - a strawberry-blonde Harvard Divinity School student named Lily Ross, who had been living in the village for the past few weeks, working for a grassroots nonprofit and researching shamanic practices.
They sat in a thatched roof hut while he blew pungent tobacco smoke on them, invoking a charm of protection. That night, the shaman held a welcome ceremony for the new guests. Eventually, they arrived at a small village where they were introduced to the village chief, a well-known shaman who’d had tourists flocking to his remote village ever since he’d been featured on a news show in Ecuador. To get there, the family took a 4x4 as far as they could down a rutted road, which soon dwindled to a trail they made the rest of the way on foot. Ainlay Dixon, her husband, and three of their four children were in a town in central Ecuador, midway through a South American tour, when a guide approached and offered to take them on a four-day jungle excursion to see the “authentic” Amazon: an indigenous village led by a real shaman.