XVI. Ayahuasca pt. I

TUESDAY, JULY 20
8:23 PM from a hostel in Pisac, Peru

We have moved on from the touristic nexus of Cuzco for a path off the beaten trail, so to speak. Once again, Kevin, Miguel and I have separated from the rest, this time in hopes of procuring some ayahuasca...

In the thin heat of mid day, the market vendors in Peru shake water bottles filled with odd-colored liquids at me. They recognize my curiosity at once, simply another contribution to the Peruvian tourism market. This place is the Amsterdam of South America... Cuzco, you will take my money and leave me blind and trembling. Food, drugs, clothes, superfluous physical luxuries made abundant to attract my countrymen. My countrymen, but not me.

"MASAGES, MASAGES!! SEÑOR, QUIERES UN MASAGEM? PORQUE NO??"

Tomorrow, we will scour this city for what we need. Sugar, salt, meat, sex, tobacco, marijuana, masturbation... these are the things we are abstaining from. We will not be distracted from our objective. We will not be deterred.

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WEDNESDAY, JULY 21
Right around 1:00 PM

A Google search.

"Ayahuasca+eating vegetarian."

That's how we learned the name Diego Palmas.

That's why we bought a bus ticket for Pisac, Peru.

"The whole city knows the name of Melissa Wasi," said the website concerning the location of Diego Palmas. "Just ask anyone." An inquiry with the proprietors of our hostel confirmed this. They pointed down the street, through the choking dust clouds, and said, "Keep going that way." When the road ran out, we asked a resting pigfarmer if he knew the location of Diego Palmas. He pointed down a dirt path, through a field littered with pigs and chickens, and said, "That way." When the path ran out, we came to a colony of buildings resting on the bank of a river. When we asked a gardener tending to some plants about the location of Diego Palmas, he took us in between some buildings, and up a hidden road until we arrived at a clearing with a sizable wooden house and a small temple built beside it. He pointed to the house, through a group of children running around an approximate playground, and said, "That way--"

We ran the doorbell and a rather beautiful Peruvian girl opened the door. We asked her in Spanish if this was the house of Diego Palmas, and she responded eloquently: "What?" After learning that English was an easier alternative, we handed her a paper with two names that I had written on it and asked if she knew where to find either of those people. She took the paper and laughed: "I am these people, she said, pointing to one of the names.

"Come in, Diego is waiting for you." This is how we met Diego Palmas...