Crazy Life Stories

Zonka was a little village in the mountains  in Italy, not far from the Swiss border. Most houses were empty. They were beautiful, magnificent, huge stone houses with wooden balconies running around them,    facing the steep slopes covered with trees. Impression of dense power surrounded by immensity. The rooves  were thick slates, as grey as the walls. One of these houses belonged to Karunesh, the guy with the grey hair and beard who was leaning over me when I was shouting to God and the ceiling, the first time I took Ayahuasca… I found myself entrusted with the noble task of picking up flowers to ornate the room where the ceremony would take place in the evening. That’s a really enjoyable activity if you forget the boy code. Normally, men are not supposed to go about the meadows picking up flowers and enjoy it. There were loads of beautiful mountain flowers, like in the ancient times, before excessive mechanisation and chemical industry turned the countrysides into a gig

The first time I took Ayahuasca was in France, with people belonging to the Church of Santo Daime. (At that time, there was no legislation on this plant). The Church of Santo Daime was born in the Amazon in the 19th century, when Portuguese missionaries were converted to the shamanic practice of drinking Ayuhuasca (the vine of the dead) However, they added very Catholic songs to the rituals. I met people belonging to this "church" and decided to experiment, even though I didn't really know what to expect. Ayahuasca is a very, very, very bitter beverage. This is how I found myself dancing - two steps to the right, two steps to the left and again and again - among French and Italian people. Imagine the sound of maracas, guitars, lyrics in Portuguese... I started to find I was very ridiculous when I started to feel sick. I felt a little bit like when you have ea ten and drunk far too much, and your liver isn't happy at all, but you still hope you won't have to throw