Friday, August 3, 2007

la Selva. The psychedelic notes

Stop! Stop whistling! It is not working. What the fuck was I thinking coming here? What the fuck am I doing, lying on this dirty wooden floor? I feel so stupid falling for this... It is hot here... the mosquitoes, they are killing me, there are so many of them, and they are eating me alive, biting me through my pants... Stop whistling, it is annoying. What is that helicopter sound? I want to see but I have to keep my eyes closed. When the light is off, the eyes have to be closed. But I want to see... I open them, it is dark, very dark, the mosquitoes are blinding me.., then I see: an old man sitting on the chair, waving a small bush of dry leaves and whistling... the melody, a strange one, not something I have ever heard before, not unpleasant but monotonous and therefore irritating. What is it supposed to do to me anyway? I know, the power of believe, the placebo, if you believe it will happen. Drink it with the faith, I did. But I can’t stand it anymore... Relax. How can I relax on this filthy floor, with this man, the mosquitoes...? I hear a dog barking outside... the insects and birds are shouting... even monkeys are laughing at me...

Here! An animal, a poisonous tropical frog. A frog? A one-inch, small lousy creature has showed up for a second and was gone the next. Two hours of walking in the mud, the air is as thick as a soup and we have found a frog? Is it supposed to be the heart of the jungle, where the wild animals roam the land and the sky? Apparently not. I’m tired of this; I want to go in the fucking jungle, not cruse around the lodge with these “limeños”... Where are the monkeys holding the banners with my name on it, anacondas and caimans lining up to be taken photos of...?
Night. Another tour, they say the animals and insects come out at night. Well, lets see, the tarantula chase has end up with nothing but a picture of a pretty flower. Great, I spend a week crossing the Andes, two days on the boat on the Amazon, with the farmers on the 2nd deck, sleeping in the hammock and eating shitty food. And now I’m here in the middle of Amazon basin, taking a picture of the god dammed flower, because the animals has gone on vocation, or are nonexistent altogether.

He began to sing. It was not enough that he was whistling for about an hour, now he sings. Great. Actually, it is not that bad. I sit. Lying on the floor has gotten my ass covered with mosquito bites and the only thing I can concentrate on is scratching it. Sitting helps. Somehow the singing and the swinging of the bush has become louder.., or it is just me? I hear Espenser telling Mono: “Que buena noche”- what a good night. Mono agrees. I don’t. There is nothing good about this night. I’m thinking weather or not I can get my money back. Spraying the repellent on my hands and face.., funny, this could be a part of the ceremony, along with the diet, bathing, smoking the bad spirits away, applying some crazy liquids to my head and stomach, plus all the singing and whistling. I want to get up and tell him to stop. I forgot how to say stop in Spanish.., I want to call Mono. He said to call him if I get too scared. Too scared? Hell, too aggravated, that is more like it. I’ll wait a little more, they said about thirty minutes, but it depends on a person. So I’m a little different, stronger maybe? Not a believer? Well, I did not throw up yet. Maybe strong. Yea, that is it, I am strong and that shit is not working for me. He continues to sing, poor old man. Now I feel bad for him, he is just doing his job. A job, what a strange one.., I guess his stuff is just not good enough for me... or maybe it just not for me... me... me... What was that? The birds and monkeys are laughing again... Suddenly, the mosquitoes are gone. It feels good to be left alone in the darkness without these tiny vicious insects. In the darkness... I’m struggling to keep my eyes closed. Why isn’t he singing anymore? He is just probably resting... wait, I want him to continue to sing...? To sing and whistle.., in the darkness. The darkness? Where is my comfortable darkness? It has gone. It has cracked into thousands of tiny peaces. The peaces began to fall. This motion has created a wind, or the wind has splintered the peaces. However, this wind is so powerful... it has lifted me up along with the falling peaces. It took me in.

Enough of this, I want to go inside, inside the real jungle. We went fishing for pirañas. There were no pirañas in that damned river. Can you imagine? Two hours in the tropical heat in the canoe and I caught a tiny sardine. Fuck. Let’s go see the pink Amazonian dolphins.., lets. There were bunch of them pink and gray ones, pretty ones I guess, only I did not see them. I did not see them because I did not have my glasses. I could only try to imagine that the splashes in the water are produced by these strange creatures. Double fuck. I went swimming. Refreshing. I said there were no pirañas, well, here there were. Apparently they like biting your nipples. Triple fuck. I’m done. Goodbye to this small jungle group. I’m going camping in the jungle. I was previously told that the tour operator provides all the equipment. Well, they do: a mosquito net and a blanket. Ah, I see why he did not want to go camping. Quadruple fuck. I don’t care. I did not come here to spend my time in the artificial eco-lodge. Eco-lodge, huh, I would wake up hearing chainsaw cutting the trees. So, we are off, Mono and I. Mono – a monkey, his real name was Edward but he insisted on being called a monkey. I don’t care, as long as we get to see the real stuff. We went to the lake. We ate the fish Mono has taken (stole) from the fishing net in the lake. Later we would go look for caimans in the canoe. We did not see any, well actually we did, just the eyes. I was explained that they were hiding from the full moon’s light. Hiding from the moon? Ruthless caimans? Can you believe this? A full moon and two bright green stars, hiding in the bushes. Kind of scary. Oh well, maybe next time... Let’s go to sleep, sleep on the raw ground, covered by a blanket and a mosquito net. It is cold, ridiculously cold but fascinating, the jungle is singing to me. I don’t need to sleep, that is not why I am here. I’m finally in the jungle, that’s what counts. I’m in.

My mind is splitting... I can’t be, it is not possible. Where am I? What is this? I open my eyes. I’m still sitting on the floor, I see the shadow of this man waving the dry leaves and singing a strange song. I hear his wife snoring in unison to the song, her bed is right next to me. I hear Mono, playing Tetris on his cell phone. I close my eyes. The song, what a beautiful song, it makes so much sense now; I see its colors, amazing colors, so vivid and bright. His song shapes the mosacic and changes the colors. I see birds, rainbow birds. No, it is not a rainbow, there is much more then seven colors. There are no words to describe them, they are not existent, or are they? Certanly now they do. He stoped singing, his is tiered. The colors continiue to swing inside my head. Mosquitoes... Now I can feel them biting me, I can hear them flying around me, hunting for my blood. Please, please sing, I want the mosquitoes to go away, or at least feel like they are gone. He begins by whistling... raw puddles of various colors take shape... he swings the bush... the shapes turn into faces... thousands of faces, flying around me. I recognize them. I have seen all of these people throughout my life, I don’t remember them anymore... But wait, I have to concentrate, I have to ask a question. I’m not doing this for the hell of it; I was told that I can see the past and the future. I need to concentrate on my question.., fucking mosquitoes, he stoped singing again... It is difficult to consecrate... I’m in three different places. Here I am, sitting on the floor of the local shaman’s house in some godforsaken village in the Amazon basin of Peru. Here I am having psychedelic visions with intense colors and mystical animals swinging in all direction. And here I’m... where? How can I describe this.., I can’t, it is another world. The underworld? The world of the spirits? Whatever the name is, it is not important. I feel that the depth and significance of this place is hundred times grater then the rainbow birds. I’m in all three places but I only care about the last one. It is hard to stay here. My awareness and the spaces I occupy is enormously large. I slip back to the color puddles. Is it my design background, or these colors combinations are so perfect for everybody?. Everything is so flawlessly shaped and moves in a highly sophisticated pattern, directed by the song. The song has stoped once again. I slip back to my mosquito bitten ass world. How long has it been? I don’t have much time I need to ask a question... I need an answer. Let me back in. Sing! Please sing...

Lazy Monkey, he took me back to the lodge to have lunch. Come on man, I want to go camp for 3 days. Well, he said, I’m not from around here, so, I can’t really take you very deep, the truth is, I don’t know this jungle. However, I’ll go fetch my friend from the village he’ll take us very deep after lunch. Okay. Fuck it, I’m tired of struggling with these Peruvians, you get what you pay for. Surprisingly, his friend showed up, so we went. I don’t know if they were testing my stamina, or it is their usual way of walking through the muddy jungle, but it was fast, very fast. I felt that I had to show them that I was not made out of maize flour too. After one hour of literally flying thought the jungle (where, the hell was the searching for animals part?) I was asked, if I want to sleep by this lake, pointing at a swamp. Huh? Are you shitting me? No. Further. Another hour has passed. And here he was, sitting on top of the tree, minding his business. Who? I asked. A sloth. What? Where? There, you can’t see? No! Mono jumped and began climbing the lianas, he reached the top within 20 seconds. Well, now I know why he was called Monkey (besides looking like one). He ripped the poor animal off the branches and dropped it; it fell down, about 60 meters, and landed on the ground. “Oso perezo”, that is the name of it in Spanish: a lazy bear…
When I was a child, I had 10 volumes of Soviet Encyclopedia. The only volume I have ever opened was volume 4: “The world’s flora and fauna”. I have never imagined that some day I’ll see the water lilies that can hold a human baby, the Amazon River, and never in my live I have dreamed of petting a sloth. Well, I did, I wanted to hug him, he looked like a plush bear but I was told if I do that, they would have to rip him off me with peaces of my flesh in its claws. I remember reading in that encyclopedia that their metabolism is so slow that the pee only once in 3 months. I don’t know about their metabolism but the bustard had quickly recovered the fall and began rapidly climbing the tree, he was quite speedy. While I was busy with this cutie, Mono popped out with a huge, loudly screaming, bullfrog. I held the frog with one hand and the the sloth with another and that was it! It was it, it was beyond the word: satisfied, even deeply satisfied just doesn’t cut it. That boy, who read this big yellow Soviet book #4, who dreamed of adventures and different world has gotten it all now.

It is fading away. The images are not as vivid anymore. It is becoming very hard to stay in one place, in one peace. I almost can’t reach out anymore... I am walking on the edge, I’m seeing less clearly now, it is like a fog covering my vision. My body is acing. I imagine that I’ve been already eaten by the damn mosquitoes. I’m struggling so hard to get in... To get back in, to ask my question. But I can’t anymore, not without a song, but the shaman is not singing anymore, nor is he whistling or swinging the leaves. He is smoking. He is just an ordinary man, who possesses a sacred knowledge about this world. The knowledge he will pass to his son Espenser, who in his turn will pass it to his son, thousands of years of knowledge about sacred worlds and sacred plants. Ayahuasca
I met the shaman, when he was cutting the grass with his machete in the soccer field in the middle of the tiny village. This small man with a funny baseball hat and sweaty shirt will change my life? My perceptions? No way... “Tranquillo Daniel?” - he asked me. Yes. I said. My voice sounded very hollow. Yes, tranquillo. “Can you do something about the mosquitoes?” - I asked him, as if I expected him to snap his fingers and they all would burn in yellow sparks. “Just go to your bed, there is a mosquito net there” - he replied. Yes, I should do that.., but what about my question... I am crawling towards the porch, where my bed is, a blanket under a mosquito net. Finally, I’m free of mosquitoes. Free... I close my eyes. The first, second and the third worlds have merged into one. I see the faces again, I don’t recognize them... I am asking my question. Now I see who that is, that’s me. Me... me... me... Thousands of me, laughing... at my question, at me. I understand now. “Que buena noche”. What a good night. Good night.
Good night.