One Night In Pisac - My Experience with San Pedro & Sacred Tobacco

Michael Dixon
Sep 8, 2018
6 min read

Updated: Sep 12, 2018

Before I tell you about my 7-day Ayahuasca retreat, let me tell you about my San Pedro ceremony first.

San Pedro, also known natively as "Huachuma" or "Wachuma", is a cactus that is native to the Andean mountains of Peru, and has been used for it's psychedelic properties in indigenous ceremonies for over 3,000 years to heal and expand consciousness. The plant was renamed "San Pedro" after post-colonial Christians learned of it's healing properties, and named it after the Chrisitan Saint Peter who held the keys to the Gates of Heaven.

Through these spiritual ceremonies with San Pedro, people have been known to heal past traumas, rid themselves of illnesses, and gain clarity in parts of their life that were once unclear.

I found out about the San Pedro ceremony though a tour guide company in Cusco. It was not on the list of excursions, but rather an off-the-menu ask with a well-known San Pedro shaman who lived two towns over.

I had turned down other retreat options because they didn't seem trustworthy or heart-centered. I highly recommended researching any psychedelic plant medicine journeys prior to booking. I found www.ayaadvisors.org to be a great resource for ayahuasca and plant medicine retreat reviews.

I took a 45 minute cab from Cusco to Pisac where I met my San Pedro guide, Taray (pron. "Ter-ai"), and his wife, Damiana at their home in town.

Taray clarified that he was a "guide" and not a shaman, because the title of "shaman" is reserved for a medicine man/woman who dedicates their lives to helping others through plants like San Pedro and Ayahuasca, and adhere to a specific diet that connects them more deeply with the spirits of the plant. Taray was a more hands-off facilitator.

We lounged for a bit at Taray and Damiana's home for a bit, before taking a pickup truck to the base of a small mountain, and then walked up a steep path to his "maloca", a large hut or dwelling, common among South American natives.

There on the side of the mountain, I met two French backpackers, Augustine (23) and Kevin (24), and the Teray's daughter, Carmen (20). They would all take part in ceremony too, and Kevin would act as my unofficial translator for the night.

We lounged outside the maloca for a bit, basking in the warm sun, and listening to Taray play his flute and didgeridoo. An hour or two later, we walked back down to Taray's home, where we relaxed some more, took naps, and had a small plant-based dinner, before returning to the maloca around sunset for the ceremony.

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The Ceremony

Taray, Damiana, Augustine, Kevin, Carmen, and myself fit comfortably in the small circular maloca. There wasn't much inside, just four mattresses placed on the dirt ground with various rough, beat-up blankets, a small fire pit, some candles, and more of Taray's musical instruments.

Damiana prepared the San Pedro, pouring it from a two liter bottle into a metal pot and boiling it over a makeshift stove. The "stove" consisted of a small metal frame with a wire grill, placed over the small fire pit.

It was strange to see sacred plant medicine like San Pedro stored in a dented plastic soda bottle and boiled over scrap metal. However, I think this reflects Peru's "waste nothing" culture.

After Damiana finished boiling the medicine, she lit a large bundle of Palo Santo, a fragrant holy wood used to clear negative energy, and began smudging everyone one at a time. She then used an eagle's feather to wipe off any excess negative energy, and sprayed us with a light mist of aromatic alcohol -- I'm less familiar with the use of the alcohol, but I believe it was for protection.

Once the medicine cooled, it was put into a 12 oz. cup, which Augustine, Kevin, Carmen, and I all took turns chugging. Each of us drank about a cup and a half.

The cactus brew had an unpleasant smokey, earthy, bitter taste. Chugging seemed to be the best method to get the medicine past our tongues and into our systems.

We spent the next hour lounging in the maloca, listening to Taray play his musical instruments or old portable radio that had an AUX connection to his iPod.

Sacred Tobacco Redux

About an hour after the first cup, Taray asked if anyone wanted more San Pedro. I was still feeling very mellow from the first cup, but wasn't experiencing any of the psychadellic effects. I drank a second cup of the bitter, earthy medicine and became a bit nauseous, but kept the medicine down, as is recommended for the first 20 minutes.

Shortly after everyone had a second helping of San Pedro, we took a few blankets from the maloca, and relocated outside. There, Taray built a large fire and surrounded it with bricks that were made of mud, straw, and other organic material, leaving space in between them to feed in the long branches of firewood.

A little while into our second camp fire, I still wasn't feeling any notable effects from the San Pedro and became slightly discouraged. Kevin, Augustine, and Carmen were all feeling light, silly, spacey, and/or generally in good spirits.

We were all sitting on our own mud bricks around the fire, when Taray asked if I wanted a third helping. I said yes, but I was still pretty nauseous from the last cup. I attempted to drink more but could barely get any more medicine down without vomiting it up immediately. I decided to hold off.

My hope was dwindling for having any real spiritual experience this evening and I found myself becoming frustrated, and staring hopelesslessly into the fire.

Taray then offered up some Rapé [pron. "ra-peh", or "ha-peh"], a tobacco snuff that is also held very sacred in Peru. I had tried it once during my Ayahuasca retreat, and hoping it might enhance the San Pedro experience, I took Taray up on his offer.

Taray sat in front of me with his Tepi, an instrument made of bamboo or bone that is used to administer rapé. Taray packed the tobacco powder into my end of the Tepi, and blew the tobacco powder into my left nostril. The sensation was very unpleasant, but it knocked me from my state of hopeless frustration, into a state of alertness and growing clarity that is typically associated with rapé.

A typical Rapé session where the shaman sets an intention and blows the tobacco snuff into the person's nose.

Taray then blew more tobacco into my right nostril, per the standard rapé ritual, and I felt an extreme sense of elation -- like 3 cups of espresso elation, and my body literally felt like it was beginning to float into the cool night sky.

This light floating sensation lasted for about 10 seconds, before I was vomiting up my cumulative three cups of San Pedro, and what felt like any leftover Ayahuasca from the week prior. I was a bit dizzy at first, but regained the same espresso elation once I finished vomiting.

The Lesson

Once I collected myself, I felt more present than I had all night. I hugged Taray and used my broken Spanish to tell him how grateful I was for this experience.

Marveling at the beauty of the starts in the night sky, the tall Peruvian mountains around us, and the glow of the fire, I grasped at what few Spanish words I knew to describe my feelings...

"I like this very much. We don't do this in America. We have a lot, we work a lot, but we don't do this. We need more of this, more connection, more family, more nature!" and then, as I sometimes feel inspired, I began to howl like a wolf.

"AaaaaooOOOooooooooooo!". Taray, Augustine, and Kevin joined in too.

Then, Taray gathered us all in a circle and said a short blessing giving thanks for all of us being there. He then invited everyone to howl at the moon together. We all howled at the moon in unison, and from far away we could hear dogs in town join in too.

"AaaooOOOooooo! Aaaoo-Aaaoo-AaaooOOOooooo!".

Then Taray, feeling playful, said in Spanish, "I have an important question. What is everyone's spirit animal?" Everyone responded:

Damiana: "Gato." [cat]

Kevin: "Mono." [monkey]

Augustine: "Rana." [frog]

Carmen: "Ave." [bird]

Taray: "Burro." [donkey]

...

Struggling to find the right Spanish, I said:

"Yo soy el libro... no, no I mean... yo soy el lobo. No, wait... ... YO SOY EL LIBRE LOBO!" // Translation: "I am the book... no, no I mean... I am the wolf. No, wait... I AM THE FREE WOLF!"

The idea came to me as if gently pushed by San Pedro. In hindsight, I was only proposed the spirit animal question in a language that I'm not fluent in, by a San Pedro guide, because we were joined together by the sacred plant. This, in itself, is evidence that my idea was brought to me through the medicine.

And the concept of "The Free Wolf" was the best realization of my trip to Peru.

I had spent so much time thinking and stressing about what job or career I should take, but through that ceremony I realized that I didn't care so much about the perfect job, as much as I cared about living my life freely.

Since learning that lesson, "freedom" has been my guiding principle, and my intention is to create a life that affords me the flexibility to do what I want, when I want.

For the rest of the night, me, Taray, Damiana, and the rest of our crew, danced, gazed at the stars, made jokes, and fed more wood into the fire. Later, we fidgeted in the cold malloca under the thin, tattered blankets, and watched small bursts of color inside our eyes, brought on by the San Pedro, as we drifted off to sleep.

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I will not soon forget the love and openness that Taray's family showed me, nor will I lose sight of my intention to live life freely.

And if you feel inspired, I encourage you to answer the same call.

AaaaooOOooooo!!!!!!