The Past, Present and Future of Psychedelic Tourism in Oaxaca (Part 3)
When the Student is Ready, the Master will Appear
(This is the third chapter of a travelogue in which I visit the highlands of Oaxaca in order to investigate its psychedelic tourism scene. If you wish to start the story from the beginning, you can find the first chapter here.)
The Past, Present and Future of Psychedelic Tourism in Oaxaca (Part 3)
by Crow Qu’appelle
I spent most of the afternoon writing. When I´m in a flow state with writing, I try to stay out of my own way, and not let myself get distracted.
Nevertheless, at a certain point, I realized that the day was getting away on me, and that I had better get to work if I wanted to find a ceremony.
I inquired at the reception if there were any ceremonies that night, and I was told that there was a temazcal at 7 p.m. This wasn´t exactly what I was looking for, but I decided to go anyway. I reasoned that a good temazcal would help me prepare for a mushroom ceremony, and that I could ask the conductor for his or her advice.
I paid $250 pesos and I was told to be ready at ten to 7. I was told that someone would pick me up at the hostel and bring me to the ceremony.
Now, I realize that some of you are probably wondering what exactly a temazcal is, which means that I should explain what exactly this ceremony is before going any further.
What is a temazcal?
A temazcal is the Mexican word for a sweat lodge. A sweat lodge is a type of a steam bath used in rites of purification by indigenous peoples throughout Turtle Island.
Typically, a sweat lodge is made from bent saplings covered with heavy blankets or animal furs, although in Mexico temazcals are often made of bricks. Stones are heated on a fire outside of the sweat lodge, and when they are hot, they are carried into the lodge and placed into a hole at its centre. The door is then covered and water is splashed on the rocks. The resulting steam heats the lodge up, causing the people inside to sweat profusely.
If you have been in a sauna, you already get the basic idea of a sweat lodge. But there is much, much more to a sweat lodge ceremony than just the physical dimension.
While the ceremony is underway, people pray and sing. Usually, songs will be accompanied by rattles and hand-drums.
Although some sweat lodges are more gentle than others, generally these ceremonies are meant to challenge you. A good sweat will bring you right to the edge of what you feel capable of enduring.
To paraphrase something that someone once told me: ¨The white man´s medicine makes things easy at first, but they gets worse as time goes on. The red man´s medicine is hard at first, but it gets easier.¨
If you compare the effects of fentanyl and peyote, you will see that this principle does seem to hold true.
The fact of the matter is that suffering is unavoidable in this lifetime. Even the richest, most privileged person in the world will eventually have to deal with illness, grief, old age, and death. No one makes it out of this world alive. Nor does anyone escape unscathed. Not to sound too emo, but life is fucking pain.
Or at least that´s what the Buddha taught.
The sweat lodge teaches many things, but chief amongst them is a certain attitude towards pain and suffering. The participants are taught to strengthen their minds, to suffer gracefully, and to always give thanks for the gift of life, irregardless of the trials and tribulations that are an inevitable part of life.
When the Student is Ready, the Master will Appear.
Seven o´clock came and went, and when I inquired at the reception about the person who was supposed to be coming to get me, I was told that not enough people had signed up for the temazcal, so it wasn´t happening. They refunded my money.
I was a little annoyed, and started wondering whether I might have a hard time finding what I was looking for. I sent some text messages to people I knew who had been to San Jose before, asking if they could point me in the right direction. Then I got on my motorcycle and cruised the town.
There was no shortage of places that were advertising temazcals. Some of them highlighted the exfoliating properties of the temazcal. I had come with an open mind, but at this point I wasn´t impressed. If people want to go to a spa, they should go to a spa.
Furthermore, an advertisement for a ceremony is a big red flag to me. In my experience, real medicine people don´t advertise. You´ve got to find them, and you´re likelier to find them when you´re not looking than when you are.
In my experience, there is real truth to the saying ¨When the student is ready, the master will appear.¨
After a while, I decided to call it a night. On my way back up to the hostel, I noticed a plume of smoke and recognized the telltale sign of a sweat lodge in progress. I stopped and spoke with a woman who was working the desk at a campground.
She gestured towards the temazcal and encouraged me to go talk with the lodge conductor.
A young man was outside the lodge, carrying some stones on a pitchfork. On the ground was one of those Bluetooth speakers that lights up with different colours when it´s on. It was playing a recording of some kind of sacred chant. I don´t know what it was, but it didn´t sound anything like any temazcal music I´ve ever heard. It didn´t even have a drum beat. It sounded more like some kind of Eastern chant, possibly from India. Then, as I watched, a Spotify ad came on, and the firekeeper hastened to put down his pitchfork to skip the ad.
Imagine that - a ceremony interrupted by a commercial break. Wow. I had come with an open mind, but things were not looking good. I left.
Back at the hostel, I sent a text to my friend, reporting that this was a very touristy place and that I wasn´t sure I was going to be able to find a real traditional ceremony.
Ah well, I thought. I´m a reporter. My job is to report faithfully on what I find, not to twist things this way or that to make them fit with what I want to believe. If this place is nothing but a tourist trap, then my job is to say so.
I really didn´t want to report that, though. That would have been a fucking drag. Remember, I hadn´t come here just to report. I had also come to heal. Of course I would be disappointed if San Jose del Pacifico turned out to be a let down.
But I had come here as a journalist, and I have strong feelings about what exactly real journalism is. To me, it´s doing your best to figure things out and then reporting your findings as accurately as possible. It is not about what you want to believe. It is about representing things as they are, not as you would like them to be.
That said, I was too happy that I was getting paid for journalism to be too upset. As I settled into bed, I hoped that the next day would bring better luck.
I comforted myself with the thought that the next day was Easter Sunday, which struck me as a most auspicious day for a quest such a mine.
I´m a very superstitious person.