Jungle Powder Up The Nose

Jungle powder up the nose

One of my friends I was at a fazenda with is partly indigenous. They trust him with their sacred herbal secrets and because of that sacred trust, he’s pretty full on loaded with the use of various natural stimulants from the Brazilian Amazon and beyond. You should see his little bag of tricks… it’s a collection of some of the wildest things you could imagine; drugs Keith Richards has probably never heard of. He’s quite well adjusted, has his own company, a family, responsibility, and definitely does not look the part of a raving drug fiend. These are the people you need to fear the most. Or you should at least respect the danger before you when the ties on a bag like this are unwound.

It rained like hell on another night at the fazenda, which is pretty normal in the jungle, and everyone went to bed. I stayed up to feel the tropical thunderstorm rumble through my ribcage and tended the steaming coals of the doused fire. It’s a primal feeling, when the jungle comes into the midnight mojo of freaky night time peels, squawks, rattles and chirps while lightning rips apart the sound barrier and blasts out the drumbeat of the planet. Very cool. The sky cleared and I brought the fire back to life. I spent a good long while listing to the chaotic symphony and watching the stars bursting from the black hole dome above my head.

I had rolled a nice spliff and was well on my way when Marcelo came out to see the night sky. Of course, we spent the next couple of hours getting properly stoned.

Very beautiful.

He speaks in a calm way about life, love and living. It is very calming to hear him talk and wonder aloud in his own tongue about how different our worlds are. I’m not spiritual, really, but listening to other spiritual people go on about all of the wondrous woo of life is pleasing to me. Maybe it even does some good.

When the buzz was going away, he pulled out some mottled white and grey powder and a long bamboo tube with various splints and chambers coming off at strategic angles. He leaned forward with this contraption, and naturally, I let him stick the tube up my nose without a word. I’m very trusting in ways like this. If someone rambles on about the wonders of the universe and muses on how the curve of a banana plant resembles the arc in the life of a cicada, I’m apt to begin trusting them on a fundamental level.

Yeah, you read that right. That part about a bamboo tube being slid up my nose.

He put his mouth on the other end of the bamboo and with puffed cheeks, deftly shot this mystery powder straight into my f*****g brain. I would have doubled over and writhed in pain, but I had the vague sense of memory to show him I was indeed a warrior. I’m not, but I pretended to be.

Before I could get a handle on my senses, the second shot came up the other nostril. It felt like someone had ignited a cutting torch right in the centre of my skull and started waving it around in a demented jungle fire dance. All I could say was “wow” a few times before I drifted off to somewhere between the banana plants and a white water river. Interesting stuff. It will sear your brains into bubbling goo, but it’s interesting. Not at all recommended, but interesting.

For awhile, I couldn’t breathe out of my nose and I started to get the fear. Do I have an unknown allergy? What if my throat closes up too? Can that tube puncture my throat so that Marcelo can give me a tracheotomy on the ground next to the ant nest? Will that hurt less than this weird powder melting my skull? Am I going to die here with Marcelo under a banana plant? Is there even a banana plant here? What is that thing crawling beside me? Hey, look at all of that stuff growing on the tree. Wow, an orchid! I wonder if orchids…

And the fear went away.

My advice? Anyone comes near your nose with a long bamboo tube, you’re best to turn it around on them first to see what the effects are. It might give you second thoughts about letting them blow mystery fire powder up yours.

Yowzah!