In March 2022 I was at the university talking to a couple of foreign students from the Spanish language program. A Japanese kid and a Polish woman. They invited me on a hike into the mountains and I reluctantly agreed. At least it would get me out of the house for awhile. That Saturday we set out with lunch in tow in the early hours. By late morning we had reached the top, a bald expanse of smooth rock perfect for a rest. We broke out our picnic. The Japanese kid prepared some rice dumplings and there was fruit and salad. While we ate, the Polish woman told us that her neighbor was a shaman and was holding a peyote ceremony the coming weekend. She lamented that she could not attend but encouraged me to do it. The price happened to be all I had left; $50. I decided I would go for it, a birthday present to myself.

I contacted the shaman, signed up, and asked him if I could hitch a ride with someone.

“You can go with me.”

To prepare, I decided to fast for a few days leading up to it. On the morning of the ceremony, I went for a walk to take my mind off the hunger. I ran into a friend who had been telling me about Temezcals, traditional sweat lodges that he does every week. As part of the ceremony I was excited to tell him I was about to experience my first.

A few minutes later I veered off the street down an alley and ran into the Polish woman, smiling and carrying a bouquet of roses. We chatted about the ceremony later that day and I walked away marveling at how I had run into the two of them, and only the two of them, as I was about to embark on the adventure.

I was nervous. When I got home my horoscope had only one line for me: Do not be afraid of evil.

At the scheduled time of the pick up, I hauled my backpack to the rendezvous point. I had filled it with the items we were instructed to bring: warm clothes, bedding, water, food for an offering, and a cup.

I was to meet the shaman and another man at the park near my house. They were late which added to my nervous anticipation but soon a young man in traditional Huichol costume walked up. The Huichol are an indigenous people from Mexico who believe religion is life itself. Soon the shaman pulled up in a little Honda and off we went. I was shocked when the kid in the backseat cracked open a beer and the shaman joined him while we sped out of town.

More shocking was when we pulled over at the gigantic, fancy grocery store where all the gringos shop. Once inside the shaman instructed me to go get four chickens. When I found him he had a shopping cart half-filled with food. Carrots, onions, peppers, chiles. At the check out he turned to me:

“Can you pay for this?”