Soon after I must have fallen asleep, and slept peacefully for a couple of hours only to be awoken by more loud music and a knock on the head at sunrise. I sat up feeling disorientated and nauseous. The incense was even more profound at this time, the fumes of which were swirling around the camp in every direction as the sweet aroma filled my nose and throat to such a sickening extent that I had to spend the next hour or so at the vomiting ditch, while several others continued simultaneously around me.
Would I do the ceremony again? In that location I don’t think I would. Perhaps with a different Shaman on a more personal level the experience would be more profound, and it would need to be given the discomfort the brew brings about. The ceremony wasn't quite what I had hoped for but it was an experience of an ancient practice I shall never forget, and one that in time I hope will inspire me toward a greater understanding of the human mind and human consciousness.