A Quiet Day in Mutum Village

Vola: After my friend departed, I chose to stay an extra day in Mutum village. The stillness of the place wrapped around me like a soft blanket. The sun dipped behind the forest canopy, painting the sky with golden hues. It was a moment of deep peace, as though nature herself whispered ancient lullabies. The village was vast, filled with abundance and life. Fruit trees bloomed generously, and free-range chickens roamed freely. The people lived in harmony with the land, their livelihood supported by Ayahuasca ceremonies that brought both healing and financial stability. They carried ancient wisdom and offered it to those who came seeking. We spoke of the exquisite jewelry they crafted, delicate beadwork woven with ancestral design. Each piece was not just an ornament but a story told in color and shape.

Journey to Paka Village

The next day, I boarded a boat beneath the open sky. The air was light and fragrant, filled with the scent of lush foliage and the songs of exotic birds. Nature accompanied us as we made our way to Paka village. Upon arrival, we were greeted with warm embraces and sincere smiles. It felt like coming home to a family I had never met, yet somehow always belonged to. They asked if I was hungry and how we felt, offering care so natural and whole. There were many people there, resting or preparing for the ceremony. I found refuge in a hammock and rested in serenity. I met travelers from Brazil and Europe, kind souls who shared in the spirit of the place. One remarkable girl invited me to swim, and we walked with the children of the tribe to the river, their presence sweet and respectful. The river, shallow and clear, was like a sacred bath for the children, just as a hot shower is for city dwellers. They came often, laughing and splashing, and as I watched them, joy bloomed in my heart. Their happiness was the kind that heals without effort.

A Night Beneath the Stars

That evening, we held a beautiful Ayahuasca ceremony. What surprised me was the light dinner beforehand, something new to me as I had only fasted in the past. Yet it all flowed perfectly. The chief was away, but his son, a skilled facilitator, guided the ceremony. His songs, the rhythm of the forest, and the sacred medicine merged into a magical dance. The stars above were so bright and large, like watchful spirits in the Amazonian sky. That night, I had a profound encounter with my ancestors. Their presence filled my being. The shaman’s support was like a light guiding me through my inner forest.

Embraced as Mama

The next morning, I awoke to dozens of little voices calling me Mama. These children, raised communally by the tribe, saw no separation between mothers. They honored all women as life givers. Even as a stranger, they welcomed me as kin. It was divine. Pure love, undiluted by condition or expectation. Later that day, the village gathered for their traditional harvest games. Fruits of the earth, such as bananas, pineapples, watermelons, and sugarcane, were brought to the center. One playful game involved holding a fruit while others tried to snatch it away, laughter ringing through the air like music. I played too, clutching my watermelon as others tried to wrest it from my hands. I rolled on the ground, covered in dirt, clothes stained with joy. At one point, a mischievous boy tried to tickle the fruit from me. I resisted until I finally bit his hand, playfully but firmly. We all laughed. That day now lives in my heart, etched with joy and wild innocence.

The Sacred Feminine

As the stars returned, I spoke with native women about their sacred women-only spiritual gatherings. They described ceremonies full of dancing, meditation, and rituals where feminine energy flowed in raw divine form. Though I could not stay long enough to attend, their stories left a longing in me, a calling I hope to answer one day. In their forest stood a sacred tree, massive and ancient, its roots deep in the earth. Near this tree, the tribe prepared rapé/hapé, a powerful snuff used to clear the mind and ground the spirit. The energy of that tree could not be described, only felt. It was a guardian, a gateway, a silent elder.

Departure and New Bonds

When it was time to leave, my heart felt heavy with love. As a parting gift, the tribe gave me freshly made rapé, and I carried with me the memory of our Ayahuasca ceremony, a soul treasure. Our next stop was a small village where our boat driver’s family lived. The chief there had strong eyes and few words, his presence wise and grounded. He brought rapé for us and offered insight when I shared my experience. His words were few, but they carried the weight of generations. At the boat driver’s home, his wife served a vegetarian dinner that touched my soul, simple, pure, and delicious. That night, we sat with the family under the moonlight. One of the daughters sang and played guitar. Her voice held the Amazon, its rivers and winds, within it. We listened for hours, sharing stories, hearts wide open. I gave small gifts to the children, bracelets, crowns, and tokens of love. I also gave a small donation to help the woman of the house buy a new phone. It felt right, a gesture of gratitude for the warmth I was wrapped in.

A Journey Beyond Expectations

This was the last tribe I visited on my journey. What I found among the indigenous people of the Amazon was not just healing. It was a reconnection to the Earth, to Spirit, to something eternal. They live close to the land, deeply grounded, profoundly spiritual. They walk with wisdom and welcome seekers with open arms. Plant medicine is not just a tradition. It is a bridge to transformation, and they hold that bridge with care and love. This journey was more than I ever expected. It changed me.