WHAT’S BREWING?

NO NEED TO GET ON A PLANE TO PERU TO EXPERIENCE THE HEALING BENEFITS OF AYAHUASCA, A PLANT MEDICINE USED FOR EVERYTHING FROM PERSONAL EXPLORATION TO TREATING DEPRESSION, PTSD AND ADDICTION. B.C. HAS A THRIVING (UNDERGROUND) COMMUNITY OF FACILITATORS.

BY FREYA WASTENEYS

Down a gravel road alongside a picturesque river, Vancouver Island’s lush second-growth opens up to a small clearing and an unassuming settlement. A mellow, white dog wanders around the property, lolling between the main cabin, a large yurt, a vegetable garden, an artist studio and a tarped mound that turns out to be a sweat lodge. Rows of vehicles hint at those in attendance. There are the expected hippie-sleepers—VW vans and the like—but the odd BMW and mini-van are notable in the mix.

This weekend, a small cross-section of society has converged on this quiet corner of the Island to experience what’s been described in correspondence as a “plant-based meditation.” This is one of the many covert ayahuasca retreats where people have gathered to be led in ceremony by trained facilitators. Protected by word-of-mouth, and a case-by-case trust system, the location is suitably remote, but not quite the trek to South America that was once required.

Ayahuasca, or yagé, is a brew made primarily from stems of the ayahuasca vine (Banisteriopsis caapi), and most often boiled with the leaves of the chacruna plant (Psychotria viridis). Bitter to taste, the concoction is deeply rooted in the spiritual practices of the indigenous peoples of South America. On their own, the ingredients have no effect, but when combined, the MAO inhibitor of the ayahuasca vine allows the DMT of the chacruna plant to enter the circulatory system.

The effect is an intense, spiritual psychoactive experience which takes the form of vivid hallucinations, and sometimes vomiting. The brew has been

used in religious ceremonies for approximately 5,000 years. Lending to its enigmatic nature, the combination of these plants by sheer accident is highly unlikely—in fact, they are only two of 80,000 plant species found in the Amazon. Shamans say that the plants speak to them, and given the odds of this discovery, it’s easy to imagine there is truth in this claim.

No longer limited to the confines of the Amazon basin, ayahuasca, the enigmatic plant medicine, is gradually being recognized by the Western world. Michael Pollan—four-time New York Times bestselling author and professor at both Harvard and UC Berkeley—chose to explore the therapeutic use of psychedelics, including ayahuasca, in his latest book, How to Change Your Mind. And these days, if you’re looking for a 10-yearsin-one-night (albeit a potentially stomach-purging, even pant-pooping) therapy session, you don’t need to look further than the areas surrounding Vancouver.

Today, the use of ayahuasca has spread all over the world, but is considered legal in only a few countries. For years, adventurous youth, and those seeking deepened spirituality, have sought the brew, which has resulted in a lucrative, and sometimes dangerous business of “ayahuasca tourism” in South America. (There have been cases of sexual assault connected to the ceremony, and in May of this year a 41-year-old man from the Comox Valley was lynched by Peruvian villagers after a local shaman was found shot dead.) In Canada, however, ayahuasca is still classified as a Schedule III drug, and while the benefits of the plant medicine are becoming recognized by many in the medical community, the use and distribution of ayahuasca can result in a three-year prison sentence.

Regardless, the use of plant medicine in British Columbia is increasingly prevalent, and physicians are beginning to recommend ayahuasca to patients suffering from PTSD, addiction, anxiety, depression, and many other conditions resulting from trauma. Dr. Gabor Maté, a wellknown author, public speaker and retired physician, is one of a few openly championing the plant medicine movement. Throughout his career, he has been especially interested in the impacts of trauma on both physical and mental health, and has worked closely with individuals suffering from addiction on Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. His interest in ayahuasca’s healing potential has led him to conduct preliminary observational studies, which showed promising results, until he was threatened with arrest by Health Canada in 2017.

Sarah Desanti (name changed to protect her identity), a former registered nurse, is another practitioner who has turned to ayahuasca for answers. Her time working in emergency rooms was initially what made her realize the limitations of Western medicine. “It was really the weaknesses in the system that propelled me to start exploring other modalities,” says Desanti, who has been apprenticing under the Shipibo tradition for eight years. Based on Vancouver Island, Desanti is now a trained facilitator, and travels to a variety of locations to guide individuals in ceremonies. “It’s quite common,” she says, estimating that rituals can be found on any weekend around the province, at a price that approximates a day at the spa ($200 and up).

Unfortunately, the popularity of ayahuasca and the lack of regulation to determine who is qualified to serve the medicine has resulted in a number of questionable practices cropping up, and while Desanti is aware of credible practices on the West Coast, she cautions individuals to educate themselves. “It starts by asking questions, finding people who have sat with the medicine, and [asking] who they’ve trained with, and what their background is,” says Desanti. “It’s important that people take responsibility, because we do become very vulnerable.”

Having gone to Peru in search of a traditional ceremony, Desanti speaks from experience, though she admits she didn’t know much at the time. “I was quite naïve. It wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for,” she says, unwilling to elaborate. Still, upon returning to Canada, she was undeterred, and when she was invited by a respected elder healer to attend a ceremony, she decided to try again. It was this second time sitting with ayahuasca that changed her life. “It was essentially an amalgamation of all of the passions that I have in my life: plant medicines, healing, song, ritual, community and connection,” she says. “All of these things came together in a way that activated something for me.” Soon after, she began to work under a respected Shipibo-trained practitioner, and hasn’t looked back.

While plant medicine may not be the answer for everyone, Desanti believes that the use of ayahuasca can allow individuals to deal with the subtle aspects of health so often misunderstood by Western medicine. As well as helping people dealing with trauma and addiction, she has seen the medicine’s ability to help people seek out the root cause of conditions latent in behavioural patterns, as well as deepen understanding, spirituality, and purpose. While there are certain commonalities in the experience however, the teachings and results vary depending on the individual. Charles Wilson (a pseudonym), a Vancouver resident, is someone who never considered himself a candidate for ayahuasca, but was prompted by his therapist, a well-respected B.C .psychologist, to sit in on a ceremony. Encouraged, Wilson gathered what information he could, sourcing articles, documentaries, and friends with experience. In the standard wordof-mouth referral process, Wilson was put in contact with a facilitator by a friend. After a screening phone call and a medical questionnaire, he had just under a week to prepare before the next sitting. He found himself on a ferry to Vancouver Island, unsure of what he would find. Among his piles of gear he had packed his cold-weather sleeping bag, anticipating rustic surroundings, but “it was much more developed than I expected,” Wilson admits.

The retreat was one of the locations where Desanti serves as one of the facilitators. Upon arrival, Wilson was greeted by his patron, and shown to the large yurt he would share with the other participants. Inside the door was a massive stack of bedding, and Wilson was told to choose whatever would make him comfortable. “Imagine someone went up and down Commercial Drive and just gathered all the hippie blankets and odd foamies and mattresses,” says Wilson, who armed himself with a fleece blanket patterned with lily pads and bugs for the two nights to follow.

As just one of a two dozen participants drawn to the retreat that weekend Wilson was surprised by the demographics he found. “There was a surprising number of conservative business types,” he recalls. “Only a few fit into the obligatory New Age demographic that I’d anticipated.” An engineer, two directors of IT, a couple who had driven from Calgary, and two of Wilson’s former university classmates (a total coincidence) were noteworthy in the crowd, and participants’ issues ranged from addiction to late-life career changes. “I’m not sure if there was some sort of time-of-life element there,” says Wilson.

As the evening kicked off, they shared their intentions with the group, divulging intimate details with people who, until recently, were strangers. The facilitators administered the brew, dispensing varying doses depending on the user’s prior experience, and Wilson took his first sip of a dark

liquid from a recycled San Pellegrino bottle. “I, of course, expected some elaborately engraved decanter of some rare wood from the Amazon,” he confesses. Darkness fell, and all the participants lay down in a circle in the round yurt, feet pointing into the middle, like spokes on a wheel.

For individuals sitting with ayahuasca, time tends to be liquid, but at a certain point, Wilson noticed the facilitators had started to play icaros, or songs, modulating the energy in the room. “I’d actually heard about the icaros and I’d pictured just some chanting, and sort of questioned whether we really needed it,” remembers Wilson. “But it’s actually an integral part of the experience. It was achingly beautiful.”

Fearing a loss of control, Wilson had asked for a small dose of the medicine for his first time. And it wasn’t until his second dose that he began his hallucinogenic voyage in earnest.“People tend to see different things, but mine were mostly geometric patterns, organic shapes, vivid colours, and I can’t remember anything that was more formed than that,” he says. After a while, a therapist came to visit his mat and gave him some thoughts that provided a whole new trajectory to his journey, following which he had heartfelt, two-way conversations with people from his past. At 5 a.m., they debriefed as a group. “It seemed like the experience was laying the groundwork for the next night,” Wilson recalls.

During the day, the participants shared food and stories, and rested as much as they could. “For how powerful [ayahuasca is], I was struck by how little residual effect there seemed to be,” says Wilson. “It was more just the effects of sleep deprivation.” As he talked to other participants, some shared their experiences from the night before. For everyone it was a little different. One man, the engineer, had found himself dancing, contorting into unusual positions he’d never experienced before, his only insight being to surrender to the movement.

On his second night Wilson decided to “go big.” With his central question unresolved, he committed to three full doses over the course of the ceremony. “At a certain point, I kind of felt pissed off,” he says, feeling almost dismissive of the “tripping” aspect of the experience. But as Wilson sat in the dark sulking, he did feel something finally click for him, though not in the way he had anticipated. “It wasn’t some mythical beast landing on my ribcage, but a very subtle shift in thinking,” he says. “It also felt a bit like someone had sort of taken my hand and... not necessarily led me there, but sort of gently observed as I stumbled around in the dark.” For Wilson, the revelation was simply a matter of reframing, but profound nonetheless.

For many who sit with ayahuasca, however, it’s not just the medicine that can be life-changing, but the ritual, the location, and the intricate processes that accompany it. On the final morning, Wilson spoke to one of the directors of IT, and found himself locked in a hug. “It wasn’t like a back-slapping man-hug; it was like a deep sharing,” he says. “I haven’t experienced that level of quick connection or sharing in any circumstance.” According to Desanti, a strength of the ceremony is communing with others. “How often do we, in our culture, sit down and speak authentically about what is present for us, our difficulties, or even our celebrations?” she asks.

Despite the hallucinogenic element of the experience, Wilson stresses that he believes that ayahuasca is not a recreational drug, unless your idea of a party is to “lay in the dark, possibly puke, and delve into your most pressing personal issues.” It can, however, allow individuals to unpack years of repressed trauma, help them make sense of the inexplicable, and provide profound insight, or shifts in thinking. For those locked in cognitive feedback loops and repeated destructive behaviours, the promise of transformation is enticing. It may represent an arrival of sorts after a long journey, even if the physical trip is only a ferry ride from home. ■

AYAHUASCA

HEALING THROUGH PLANT MEDICINE

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Study participants who reported reduced symptoms of depression

From a biomedical perspective ayahuasca is just a drug, but traditionally ayahuasca is seen as a sentient plant which heals when administered in a ceremony

64%

WESTERN EXPOSURE

1851

Ecuadorian geographer Villavicencio first mentioned ayahuasca in 1858 while he was exploring the jungles of Equador

1923

British explorer Richard Spruce observed the Tukanoan Indians in the upper Rio Negro region of the Brazilian Amazon using a liana (vine) to induce a state of intoxication

1858

Columbian chemist Fischer Cardenas analyzed the B. cappi vine and isolated a compound he named telapathine