The voices rose and fell, the thumping approached and receded, over and
over, from light to darkness and back again into the red glow of the torch.
(Reichel-Dolmatoff 1975:163)Shortly after 8 o’clock the painted ceramic vessel used to prepare and hold yajé was
brought out and stirred with a rattling sound. The men returned to their seats. The
yajé was distributed in small gourd cups and imbibed with much grimacing and
spitting. Cashirí beer was again served. Having drunk the yajé the participants
became more relaxed and boisterous. The women now joined the men in a slow
solemn dance. At about 9.30 the men took another round of yajé. By 10 o’clock
most of the men were having visions, talking to one another about them in drowsy
voices. As the men began to enter deeply into the yajé trance their dancing became
more animated and they became more synchronous in their movements:
The general rhythm of the dance had become more and more coordinated as
time went on. After the men had drunk three or four cups of yajé the steps,
turns, and gestures had reached a precision that made the group appear to be
one single organism moving in a highly controlled and precise way. The same
was true for the songs; there was never a false note or an eccentric movement;
song and dance had become completely fused. Moreover, the entire scene was
far from being a frenetic orgy; it was extremely formalised and solemn.
(Reichel-Dolmatoff 1975:163)Some of the men exchanged entheogenic vihó snuff. Participants avoided ‘facing
others and looking into their eyes’ (Reichel-Dolmatoff 1975:163). The quality of
sociality oscillated mostly between private introspection and impersonal interaction
as undifferentiated members of a group. The cycles of dancing and resting
continued throughout the night and yajé was taken at regular intervals:
At 2:10 A.M. the men took another round of yajé, and at 3:20 the eighth and
last one. They were dancing now in almost complete darkness. Then they
rested, and occasionally there were long monotonous recitals. The music
never stopped completely, and the croaking noise of the turtle shell continued
hour after hour. Dawn was coming. Bëhpó slowly took the feathercrown from
his head and handed it to Muhipu, saying ‘má’ take! in a loud voice. The
other men followed his example. It was exactly 6:20 A.M.; the ceremony had
lasted twelve hours to the minute. Muhipu handed the different ornaments to
Biá, who carefully packed them away in their boxes. The men left the maloca
and gathered in the chilly air in front of the house, yawning and stretching
their limbs. There was but little conversation. The men look tired but
content. After a while some of them put up their hammocks and went to
sleep.
(Reichel-Dolmatoff 1975:167)ENTHEOGENIC DANCE ECSTASIS 129