Dolama, that yogi/shaman living on top of the mountain

I once was lost, but a light was still shining upon my head.

Before I decided to go meet Dolama in person, I had followed him on YouTube for about 8-12 years (I don’t know the exact number, but it has been a very long time). At first, he was calling himself the “Simple Hermit” and was already living in caves, jungles, and forests alone, meditating and sharing his spiritual journey with us through the power of YouTube. I was fascinated by his lifestyle because deep within me, I wished I had the courage to do what he was doing.

So I was experiencing this lifestyle through him, through YouTube, always looking forward to his next videos. I felt he was the real deal, not like the other so-called “gurus” out there wearing fancy clothes and living comfortable lives. No! No-no-no, this is Dolama! He is living in the jungle, man! He sleeps next to spiders and venomous snakes! He has to be the real deal!

At that time, I didn’t know what Ayahuasca or shamanism was. All I knew were some basics in Buddhism and what Christianity was more or less about. I never really dug “seriously” into my spirituality, nor did I try to ask myself the big questions like the meaning of life. I was too focused on making money so I could buy my freedom. I said to myself that then I would start my spiritual quest. I got everything reversed.

During that time, I also met a wonderful woman with whom I discovered the beautiful and the ugly, the joy and the tears, the light and the darkness. A non-ending quest of compassion and understanding of each other until we both put down our weapons and surrendered to love. It has been difficult, but like the rock tumbler metaphor, we simply ended up polishing our own consciousnesses in the process because our profound love helped us overcome our differences.

She pulled me more and more into the spiritual life, which I was not very fond of at the beginning, or should I say that I was simply afraid? One day, she came and said that she wanted to go on a spiritual retreat and try medicinal plants. After searching a bit online, I realized that they were psychedelic plants and told her that there was no way I would let her go alone into that jungle to do what, in my book, are hardcore drugs. But since it was something important to her for her spiritual journey, I decided to join her to make sure she would be fine. I had my share of experiences with mushrooms and weed in the past, and since she had never tried any type of drug in her life, I knew that if she had to face something difficult such as a bad trip, I could comfort her and guide her through it. With this agreement, we decided to go during my birthday week.

My journey before taking the leap of faith and climbing the mountain.

Experiencing Peru, Iquitos, and the Amazonian jungle was a beautiful experience in itself. Seeing another part of the world, meaning not just the central points of what makes a country appealing, but also its other sides, its other realities.

We had our first ceremony, and it was intense, as you would expect for such a powerful plant. I experienced and received many messages. At that time, I didn’t know how to interpret any of these messages, nor was I ready to accept them. I was still a very spiritually rigid and conservative person and not really open to the ideas of the intangible. How can I scientifically explain what just happened to me right now? So I just went with the experiences and accompanied my beloved woman as much as I could.

Getting back to my home country was a shock. I remember being a little disoriented and unsure of my new reality, searching for meanings in what I was doing at work. This uncertainty was very new to me. I went from barely any spirituality to experiencing deep, transforming medicine that was about to change and cure me and open my eyes for the better.

It was the beginning of a spiritual journey, a fast but slow process that took me years to integrate and understand, but slowly the medicine was taking over, guiding me in seeing clearly, cleansing my soul and my heart. My ego got rebellious, got angry, rejected it, neglected it, while my spirit fought the best that it could to overcome the barriers it erected for so many years.

The year later, we decided to go for another retreat, this time in Costa Rica. That experience was difficult for both of us in many ways. Not only was the message difficult to receive, but we didn’t feel we were at the right place nor the right time. We decided to leave after the first ceremony and leave the experience of substances behind us once and for all. I was also committed to that decision.

Two years later, something was still missing within me. I felt more inclined to spirituality, but never really went onto a retreat that was mine, and Costa Rica has been a little too “kumbaya“ for me. I was craving for the real thing, the real monastic experience in the wood, not holding hands with people and singing songs.

Meeting the hermit.

So one day in my Facebook feed, I saw that Dolama, the hermit I had been following for years, was organizing what he mentioned was probably going to be his last ayahuasca retreat. I didn’t want to do any substance, but I had no choice. It was him. The real deal. The man of the jungle. Dolama. It was now or never! So I booked a flight and flew to Peru.

I remember the anxiety in the apprehension of meeting Dolama. A weird feeling, like a fan meeting an artist for the first time. I knew a lot about him from his videos, but he knew so little about me. He came to meet me at my AirBnB, I opened the door and was surprised by his intimidating figure smiling at me. He seemed very surprised by my appearance, I remember. We spoke a bit before meeting, so I assumed my voice probably didn’t match his idea of me.

We took a mototaxi and left for the village where we shared laughs and stories. He showed me beautiful places and told me stories about the village and his life in general, but immediately I saw someone who was very immersed in nature. His joys lied in simplicity. He didn’t experience entertainment like we do. He was my age, and I felt like I was talking to my grandfather, but in the prime of his life. It’s strange to explain.

The day after, we climbed the mountain. A difficult, very steep, and slippery road that goes up and down with mosquitoes and dangerous edges where you can fall at any time. Definitely not for the faint of heart and probably a warning for what is upcoming if you decide to change your mind. I have to admit that it was the hardest hike I ever undertook, and my asthma kindly reminded me of it every two minutes. Luckily, after a little more than two hours, we finally made it to the jungle house.

The idea I had of the man was on point.

The day after we arrived, Dolama had to go back to Tarapoto to pick up another guy before we started our retreat, so I stayed one night at the jungle house by myself. It is a beautiful place, but trust me, it is not easy knowing you are alone in the Amazonian jungle, two hours away from a village where there is no hospital nor anyone you know, and that if you had any issue, there was no way you could find your way back to that village by yourself. But, I wanted that experience. I wanted to feel the fear. To be the man in the jungle.

Dolama eventually came back with our new friend with whom we chatted and learned about each other. I remember falling asleep that night and having a nightmare. Well, not exactly a nightmare, but just a very vivid and unpleasant dream from which I woke up while trying to scream for help. I didn’t sleep very well after that, that night, and turned in the bed over and over, closing and opening my eyes every now and then.

It was about 3 AM, and I turned on my side and opened my eyes. I saw a silhouette that kind of shocked me at the moment, but then I realized it was Dolama, meditating and breathing. Dude, it’s 3 AM, and you’re telling me that this guy is doing yoga? I closed my eyes and turned on the other side. I opened my eyes probably an hour and a half later only to realize Dolama was still meditating on his bed, which… oh yeah, this guy sleeps on a bed made of planks of wood, and his pillow is a rock. A ROCK, with a small thin towel on top of it. Seeing this made me question my whole being, my discipline, my masculinity, and my faith.

After a bit, I managed to fall asleep, but Dolama woke us up at 5 AM to teach us some yoga practices which we did for 2 hours. It was difficult, and I was looking forward to it stopping every second. I witnessed Dolama doing just that during all of the 14 days of our retreat. Every day, Dolama would do meditation, yoga, and breathing for about 5 hours before he would wake up and go make breakfast for us while we enjoyed some more sleep.

I could be considered a badass where I come from. I am very strong, I look like a Viking, I train every day very seriously, and never have I been that intimidated. It’s not physical intimidation; it’s realizing and witnessing how far you are from sheer purposefulness yet.

The first ceremony was powerful yet not unbearable. Hearing Dolama chanting for 4-5 hours straight while doing the ayahuasca with us after all that yoga and training we did just blew my mind. Ayahuasca just drains you dead, and just chanting for a few minutes becomes a difficult chore, try imagining doing that for hours. The discipline of that man, I swear. At the end of the experience, I felt powerful and filled with energy. I even started doing some exercises. Dolama and our friend were laying down on their bed integrating what just happened. I eventually went to sleep too.

The next day we relaxed, enjoyed a good meal cooked by Dolama on the fire, and just rested. Ayahuasca can be very taxing on the body, and I barely had the energy to go wash myself or go to the toilet when I needed. That’s how tired we were.

The next day we prepared for the second ceremony. Dolama warned us that the more we experience, the more the medicine is felt by the body, so he suggested that we sleep during the afternoon, and I took that very seriously. Let me also remind you that ayahuasca is not something you should take lightly. If something goes wrong, you better have some energy in reserve, or you will pay the price.

At the time of the ceremony, I told Dolama not to serve me too much. In fact, less than everybody else. I just felt that I wasn’t ready for a powerful experience, but ayahuasca had something else in mind for me. I won’t go into the details of what I felt or saw, as I believe that every experience is personal and that it’s something tailor-made for you to help you grow. However, I can tell you that this ceremony was extremely close to unbearable. In fact, it was so close that I literally begged God to help me.

I left the jungle house under the effect of the plant, trying my best to walk through the unbalanced ground of Dolama’s land. I wanted to reach the shower because for some reason, I believed that water would help me. What a disappointment when I saw that small tube spraying water in the obscurity of the night. Not the big waterfalls I imagined. Why did I imagine waterfalls in the first place?

Then Dolama came and asked me if I were fine. “Please, when will it stop, brother?” I asked him. “Continue to do what you do; you are doing great!” he replied. Not the answer I was looking for, but the answer I needed nevertheless. So I carried on with the weight on my shoulder for hours and hours.

My body couldn’t do it anymore, so it relayed the load to my mind. My mind couldn’t do it anymore, so it relayed the work to my faith. And as I was watching the moonlight, that small amount of faith reflecting upon my head, I asked God for his blessing and his eternal light. That was my only strength left. If I didn’t have that, I would have gone crazy and ended up in a mental hospital. “Never again” was I repeating in my head over and over.

I sat down on the bench, and Dolama came and sat quietly next to me. He didn’t say a word for a while; he was just there. “Don’t feel obligated to be here”, I told him. He smiled and laughed. “I don’t feel obligated”, he replied. And we sat there for about an hour, in complete silence.

And then I threw up. And immediately, I felt relieved and to my surprise, I wanted to do it again.

Our life at the jungle house.

Dolama’s place is a small piece of paradise (if you can do without comfort). Actually, trying to find any flat surface or a place where you can just chill is quite difficult. It’s as if the place were designed specifically to make you stronger. You want to lay down? You’ll get devoured by insects. You want to chill in the hammock? Better cover yourself up, or the mosquitoes will get you. Want to go for a small walk? Better put your boots on and stretch your hamstrings because you’re up for some very steep hills.

During our days off, we were reading, training, talking, hiking, giving each other haircuts, clearing pathways with machetes, and carrying wood for the upcoming days. Everything that a jungle man does, and we loved it.

Dolama’s food, even though free of any sugar, fat, salt, etc., was very tasty, and we were grateful for it. Following a diet for ayahuasca requires our body to be very sensitive, meaning it needs to crave excitement, which we removed completely from the food. Aside from the regime, you also need to follow a strict way of living, and that includes no drugs, no sex, no alcohol, etc., which we followed religiously.

Dwelling in simplicity. Enjoying the sunrises, sunsets, and each other’s company. It never felt off, nor did I feel I was in the wrong place or with the wrong people. Dolama always made us feel at home. So much time to reflect, to think about our past, our present, and our future. And it was at that moment that I realized how greatly a man can change and improve by living in such a place.

Dolama, a name that has deep meaning and that I pronounce with the utmost respect.

For our third ceremony, I asked Dolama again, “Please, only 1/3 of a cup for me.” I was still not completely recovered from my second ceremony, but I wanted to be there with the brothers. As a form of support, but also for me. I came here to become a man.

During this third and last ceremony for me, I was pushed to face my fears. All sorts of deep ideas and misconceptions resurfaced, and I was forced to sort truth from lies. I got bombarded with fears that I had kept within for so many years. I even feared Dolama. Am I being held captive by a shaman on top of the mountain far away from civilization? But I eventually overcame these fears and pulled myself together.

I walked to the kitchen and sat there for a while, enduring the weight of the world again like I did during the second ceremony. Dolama came, sat next to me in silence. He knew I was having a difficult time again. I looked him in the eyes and said, “I don’t know how you do this. I don’t understand how you can bear this over and over again. You are not a normal human being. You have my utmost respect, brother”, and I meant every single word I said. Imagine going through hell on a weekly basis. Imagine the kind of man it creates. Imagine having infinite compassion on top of that. That’s the kind of man Dolama is, and I cannot express enough the respect I have for this person.

Leaving the mountain. Going back to the source.

After 18 days, it was time for us to leave the jungle house and return to “reality.” We embarked on another 2-hour journey through the mountains and found our way back to the village. We also spent a few hours in the middle just to enjoy ourselves one last time before truly leaving the jungle. Getting close to the village made me feel like Rambo in the intro of First Blood. I felt as though we had just returned from war and were now happily heading back to our normal lives to reunite with our friends and family. It was a joyful moment, even though I had already started to miss the jungle house.

Dolama invited us to a small local restaurant where we ate a typical Peruvian dish with rice and yellow sauce, but the pineapple juice stole the show for me. What a treat after all these restrictions!

As we slowly readapted to society, although most would not call this village “society,” we realized that it was time to say goodbye. The next day, we went to Tarapoto, a small city close to San Roque, so Dolama could buy some groceries and we could explore and enjoy more of Peru before flying back to our homelands. Dolama showed us around, found us a small room in a hotel for the night, and helped us with a few other things until the moment finally came to bid farewell.

We hugged and thanked Dolama. We could see in his eyes that we were not just people who had paid him for a retreat, but real brothers. He concealed his emotions a bit, but we could tell that it was difficult, even for him, who deserved rest more than anyone else.

And then he left.

The day after, it was time for me to return to my country. I said goodbye to our friend, whose name is not mentioned here for the sake of his privacy, but let me tell you that he is now more than a friend; he is a brother to me. What I experienced with this man goes beyond friendship. And to you too, my brother, I salute you and I miss you.

Conclusion.