AFFINITY GATEWAY v1.1a

I knew not what to expect. I was however, prepared. I had my peyote, not buds, but root. Pulling the root of the plant is not considered appropriate as it kills the plant however it is done sometimes.

I also acquired some Monkey-shit, which is a special blend of ganja mixed with mescaline, which is placed deep in the ground on one of the solstices and left to cure. On the next solstice the mixture is dug up and a ceremony performed. It was extremely trance-like in effect.

Three days before the ceremony I got food poisoning from a chicken sandwich in Campeche. After spending a night puking my guts out then a long 6-hour bus ride to Palenque in the scorching summer heat I was dehydrated and weak. I needed energy, which I got in the way of Royal Jelly, which I found, at a local pharmacy. I also ate lots of fresh fruit and had a good nights sleep before heading off in search of the shaman Enrique.

Before long I had made contact with " Enrique" and arrangements were made to perform the peyote ceremony the next day. This was of course only if I returned alive from my pre-ceremony trial. I was never told exactly what was going on or even given a hint as to what laid ahead. Everything is always a surprise. The Maya love surprises.

We headed up the mountain at a quick pace, far too fast for me. It was the rainy season and there was a lot of mud and loose earth. There are also a lot of spiked trees and thorns so you have to be careful what you grab onto. My accomplices were Louis, a young, fit Mayan who had grown up in the jungle and made a living searching for and selling amber and Wilbur, our guide. Wilbur was a Mayan hunter/farmer who lived in the area. Only Louis spoke English so communicating with Wilbur was difficult.

After an hours climb up the mountain through dense jungle we arrived at the opening of a deep valley. This I was told was the beginning of an old sacred Maya-hunting trail called the "Warrior's Trail". Louis cautioned me that this was going to be dangerous and to be extremely careful. We started by scaling the side of the valley wall. This was achieved by slowly moving along a 6-inch ledge on the side of the valley wall. It was a 50-foot drop at least to the bottom. This micro ledge was built over time and was the means to go down to the bottom of the valley. It was as dangerous as could possibly be. One slip meant falling down to the rocks below. I was scared. After you start you have to either go back or continue so once you get into it you must go forward. I imagined this would have been fun for a rock-climber but I was completely unprepared for this. My muddy sandals were sliding all over the place and I am afraid of heights.

Of course my Mayan friends flew down the valley wall like little kids on a hill but I had to move inch by inch clinging to any vine or rock for dear life. After some time I reached the bottom. There was a small cave and the whole area had been manicured. I was told that Mayan hunters had used this spot for a campsite for as far back as anyone knew. There were bones lying around that were left by other animals that also used the spot and slept in the cave.

After a brief rest we moved on down the valley. Every so often there would be a deep pool of fresh mountain water to swim in which was absolutely delightful considering the penetrating heat of the hot Chiapas summer. Because of the rainy season there were many plants in bloom and quite a few colorful mushrooms and flowers along the way.

Louis and Wilbur were a little ahead of me and had come to a stop. They were in conversation about something that they were spying on the ground. As I approached they began to laugh.

In the ground was a hole. The hole was in a big rock that was level with the ground. It was a couple of feet across and really smooth. Louis said to me "drop in the hole". I looked in the hole and I could not see anything. "What's down there?" I said? They just glared at me and made a suggestion that maybe I was not brave and unworthy of the expedition and their time. I looked at them, balked at the suggestion and slid into the unknown.

This was like something right out of the movies. I climbed into the hole and then slid down about four feet then I dropped about seven feet into water. It was pitch black except for a little cave that had light at the end of it. This appeared to be the only way out. I had to tread water, as I could not feel the bottom. I was scared there would be snakes or water rats in the cave. There were lots of cobwebs and some gigantic spiders.

Seeing that the only way out of there was through the little opening in the wall of the cavern I entered the small cave and immediately noticed that this was not a natural structure but was hand made. The cave was in the typical false arch structure and was built with square rocks. This was absolutely fascinating as this was in the middle of nowhere, way deep in the jungle and there was not a single structure or even ruin anywhere around that was visible.

Since the only way out was to swim/tread through the small cave I proceeded. The cave was about sixty feet in my estimation. I was up to my chin in the water and the cobwebs were extremely thick. All of a sudden something came flying at me at great speed. I covered my head for protection and just as the thing got to me it swished right by my head. Then there was another one, then another, and another. They were bats who lived in the cave. Needless to say this was freaking me out. It did not stop and the bats came one after another. The bats were also making a noise that was echoing in the cave that sounded very weird.

After treading water in the cave of horror for thirty feet I came to a small opening where Louis and Wilbur were standing laughing their heads off. They said I could come out there if I wanted too. I proceed in the tunnel of terror praying a water snake would not appear and put an end to my fun.

The last thirty feet weren't so bad. I was used to the bats and none of the spiders had bitten me so far, so I proceeded as quickly as I could dog paddle.

Exiting the tunnel was a joyful experience. Louis and Wilbur just smiled, said nothing and started walking.

The trail was beautiful. Because of the density of the jungle, streams were used as roads so you travel by streams. There is waterfall after waterfall. Not big ones but small ones, many filled with floating flowers. Vines hung everywhere and there was countless types of vegetation.

Wilbur knew the streams well and after a while he took us to a spot where he estimated a warrior had died. There were still bones there and Wilbur had found a number of items associated with the warrior class. A brief excavation revealed a bone, which Wilbur assured me, was a part of the warrior's jawbone. This was given to me to commemorate the day.

We proceeded back to camp to relax, as I was to prepare for the next days peyote ceremony.

 
It was a beautiful morning. The shaman Enrique accompanied by Louis arrived early in the morning to begin the ceremony. Enrique began by slicing pieces of the peyote off of the root and placing them in a kettle of water, which was then boiled.

Copal Incense was lit. This was real incense collected from the tree by hand, by Enrique. Other leaves from plants were also burnt along with the incense. We were all encouraged to engulf ourselves in the smoke from the leaves and incense.

Enrique had brought some tequila and he proceeded to pour each of us a glass. While we drank the tequila Enrique spoke in a Mayan dialect. After drinking the tequila we began to eat spoonfuls of honey, which is what the peyote came in. Then Enrique cut small pieces of the peyote, which we ate.

That done the initial ceremony was completed. Enrique packed up his rattles and assorted rocks and shells and advised me not to leave the property and to meditate until 3:00 when he would return.

I sat around all day smoking Monkey-shit waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, but I will say I was rather relaxed. At 3:00 on the dot Enrique reappeared with Louis. Incense was lit, words were chanted and more tea made. We also ate more honey and consumed more pieces of peyote. Again Enrique packed up his medicine bundle and elaborated that he would return at 10:00 for the final stage of the ceremony. I was instructed to not leave the area and to meditate.

I was alone and there was not much for me to do but sit and think. I smoked more Monkey-shit and pondered the universe. It got dark and the howler monkeys started their nightly serenade. This, along with the other invisible creatures from the night makes for a unique soundscape.

At 10:00 Enrique alone appeared out of the dark to conduct the final phase of the ceremony.

Incense was lit, the tea was made. We ate more honey and more peyote root. Enrique spoke of the Feathered Serpent and how I would survive the meeting. Absolute caution must be taken when approaching the serpent as it is just as easy to loose your mind as it is to gain insight. The Feathered Serpent is as cruel as Mother Nature is beautiful.

I had read much about the Feathered Serpent. I had studied the works of Carlos delBolis. I had visited numerous ruin sites and examined the archeological remains of Feathered Serpent abstracts but nothing prepared me for what was about to transpire.

In all honesty I actually believed what I had read, especially in scientific literature, regarding the Feathered Serpent. All my ideas were preconceived notions based on misleading data. I had the total experience almost planned in my head. Using data that I referenced to other religions I had built up a complete make-up of the Serpent, which I was later to learn, was totally wrong.

The final ceremony completed, Enrique packed his things and left. He would return first thing in the morning to cook a breakfast from jungle food. He left me sitting there in the dark, alone with the night animals and spirits. I sat quiet, waiting for something to happen. I still had felt nothing from the peyote. When was I to meet the serpent? I rolled another joint of Monkey-shit when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was a large toad. I got up and walked over to him. He hopped away so I went and sat down again. Then there was another toad. In fact there were lots. I counted at least eight big toads within view. How they got into the cabana, I do not know.

I started to feel drowsy and nothing was happening with the peyote so I went to bed. I laid in bed for a little while listening to the monkeys howl and cows moo, then fell asleep. I awoke in the morning with the sun up. Right next to my bed was this big toad who I guess was there all night because he seemed quite content to be there. He did not stir when I got up.

I rolled a joint and sat on the edge of the bed looking at the toad. I felt okay, nothing out of the ordinary. I noticed that the toad was looking at me. So I smoked my joint, him watching me, and me watching him. I talked to him. He looked back. It was like he was trying to tell me something.

I noticed that there was some peyote left so I thought I would try to have a ceremony so I had a little incense left over from the night before which I lit. I smoked some more ganja and drank what tea was left over. I still felt nothing from the peyote from the day before.

Maybe location was the problem I thought so I decided to go to Palenque ruins for the day. I rolled some joints of hydro for extra impact to go along with the Monkey-shit and peyote. I had a Coheba Esplendido to smoke, as well.

Arriving at the site through the exit I proceeded to the main courtyard against the flow of pedestrians which was quite thick seeing that this was August. The climb up the stairs was exhausting, especially smoking a cigar.

I moved through the site quite quickly looking for a place to relax. I found it in the form of a ledge on the Temple of the Cross that is the highest spot you can possibly sit to overlook the amazing view of Palenque Ruins.

Sitting atop the ledge with my feet dangling over the edge I felt like a bird. You could hear monkeys from way far down the valley. The view is astounding. Below you, 10 feet or so is a flat walkway then a grade down about 50 feet. The structure is on the side of a mountain so you are already way up in the air.

I took out one of my joints and smoked it. I became kind of dizzy from the heat, height and general on-goings when all of a sudden I heard this loud chanting and drums. There were noises coming from workmen working on the ruins and when you closed your eyes you could hear the sounds of children playing, the workman's masonry hammers crashing rock and the sounds of drums and chanting.

Looking around I noticed that I appeared to be the only person noticing the chanting. I wanted to ask somebody if they could hear it too but I thought they might think I'm crazy. After a while I started to get scared. The chanting was intensifying and sounded pretty loud. I was sitting on the ledge on a structure way up in the air. Was this the peyote kicking in, I wondered?

The chanting got louder and it was ricocheting off the side of the mountain creating a harmony echo. It was all too real and I began to think I was hallucinating. Unfortunately I was in a bit of a predicament being on a ledge by myself. I carefully climbed down and made my way down the side of the building. Once I was on the ground I felt safe so I decided to followed the chanting and see where it was coming from which appeared to be the other side of the Palace.

As I approached the chanting I noticed that nobody else was paying any kind of attention to it. I was excited, wondering what was going on but people were walking away from the sounds exhibiting no interest what so ever and I was alone going towards the sounds.

Coming closer to the chanting it grew in intensity. Around the corner I went and much to my astonishment there were around fifty to a hundred people dressed in robes conducting a ceremony in front of the Temple of Inscriptions. This day was the Mayan New Year day and this was a ceremony conducted every year to re-enact a traditional Mayan New Years ceremony. I did not know this and I was completely astonished. I sat down smoked another joint and watched the ceremony. It was amazing and it was real. I was not hallucinating.

After the ceremony I left and went back to basecamp and hitched up with Enrique. I was disappointed that nothing had happened with the peyote. I became adamant. Throughout the evening I ranted and raved to Enrique what a sham it all was and how I felt cheated. Unable to bare my insults and rants any longer Enrique adjourned for the night. Alone I cursed the moon.

The next day I awoke and went for a walk in the jungle to a nice waterfall. I took a nice long swim and smoked some Monkey-shit. I felt different. After my swim I went back to camp to make amends with Enrique. He was prepared for me and he only laughed. I was to leave later that day so I was given some jungle food as well as some "medicines" and some mushrooms. This would help me to make sense of it all I was told.

The day passed as we lay in our hammocks. The sounds of the jungle cried out every so often breaking the silence of the passing clouds. Every so often, out of nowhere, a loud crash of thunder would erupt, always at a key moment of conversation or movement.

It was time for me to leave so I packed my belongings and hopped on the bus to Plastic Vampire Wrong Clock and another reality.

When I got to Playa del Carmen things were different. Very different. The last three days of my life were a dream. A surreal exploration into the InterZone. Once I had time to sleep on the bus and collect my thoughts on the beach in Playa I soon realized that I had been a walking zombie for three days. I was awake, but asleep, asleep but awake. I went through the motions but not as me. I flew above me. I flew high above it all, but at the same time, I slithered deep into the dark abyss of low dread. And the whole time I did not even know it.

NOTES:

Standing before the ceremonial urns in Palenque museum I realized I understood what they meant now. Maybe not the literal translation, but the mooootivation. The Feathered Serpent becomes evident when you know by instinct what to look for. And it is not even a matter of having to look for it because in Mayan culture the reality of it is everywhere.