By Aisha Taylor Durán

A young person participating in an ayahuasca ceremony, image courtesy of World Politics Review.

Ayahuasca. You might have seen it featured in a travel tiktok or briefly heard a celebrity discuss it and found yourself wondering what this infamous drug is and if you too, could experience its mind-altering effects? In search of the answers to these questions, thousands of tourists travel to ayahuasca centres found across South America to sample the psychoactive properties of the ayahuasca brew. But as the number of tourists seeking out ayahuasca grows, so do the concerns about the potential social and environmental impacts of this unregulated tourist industry. So, what exactly is ayahuasca, what are the issues surrounding its popularisation amongst tourists, and is there a way to participate in it ethically?

Ayahuasca (Aya-was-ka) is the hispanised term generally used to refer to the psychoactive brew made from the vines of the Banisteriopsis caapi (B. caapi) plant as well as the leaves of psychoactive plants such as chacruna. The term itself derives from the Quechan language spoken across the Andean nations and can be translated several ways, with the most common being “rope/vine of the soul/dead”. Whilst the term ayahuasca has become synonymous with the brew, it is known by a variety of names by the indigenous groups of which it is culturally a part of. For the peoples indigenous to Putumayo, Colombia, it is known as Yajé whereas the Sharanhua peoples of Peru call it Shori. Though recognising the multitude of indigenous terms for ayahuasca may seem inconsequential, these etymological differences are key to honouring the multifarious cultural and historical significance of the concoction.

A Botanical Illustration of the *Baniesteriopsis caapi* vine, image courtesy of Chacruna.

Like its name, the use of ayahuasca has varied greatly across time and its function is often specific to the indigenous groups who use it. Although its usage was first recorded in the 17th century by a Spanish Jesuit priest, the use of ayahuasca can be dated back as early 900 B.C.E. with the discovery of ayahuasca related artwork and paraphernalia created by the Chavin People being found in Peru. Given that ayahuasca has been present in the cultures of many indigenous groups for several millennia, it has thus served many purposes such as being a component of ceremonial and religious rituals as well as communal bonding experiences.

Ayahuasca itself tends to be consumed in the form of a bitter brew or steeped tea and can be accompanied by rituals such as cleansing rites, dancing, chanting, and smoking - though this varies across different indigenous groups. Once consumed, the brew induces hallucinations, a distorted sense of self and feelings of being in a trance as well as vomiting, a state of being that can last up to six hours. As well as awakening one's' spirituality, ayahuasca is also purported to cure or alleviate mental health issues and addiction, capturing the interest of western tourists since the late 90s who now travel in increasing numbers to sample it.

A shaman in Ecuador prepares the ayahuasca brew, image courtesy of The Guardian.

Since the 90s, the rise in wellness culture and the seeking out of holistic treatments alongside the influence of social media has caused a resurgence in ayahuasca’s popularity; transforming it into a distinct form of tourism. In the city of Iquitos, Peru there are almost 100 ayahuasca retreat centres. This is a significant number considering the city’s population is just under 500,000 inhabitants. This rise in the number of tourists seeking to participate in ayahuasca ceremonies has, in recent times, prompted valid concerns over the environmental and social impacts this trend is having.

Amongst these concerns, the topic of commercialisation has generated the greatest discourse. Given the significant presence of indigenous peoples working in ayahuasca centres, you would be forgiven for thinking that the majority of profits from ayahuasca ceremonies goes directly to indigenous communities and their local economies.

Ayahuasca retreats or “programs” generally last between a week and a fortnight and admittance to the centres that host them can cost several hundred to several thousand pounds depending on their exclusivity and the services they offer. Given the popularity of these centres, many foreigners have set them up abroad in order to capitalise on the demand for ayahuasca ceremonies that cater to the needs and expectations of tourists. Due to this, much of the profits from ayahuasca centres goes not to the indigenous people who facilitate the ceremonies, but to the foreign centre owners. To add insult to injury, many of these foreigners do not permanently reside in the countries where the retreat centres are located, increasing the risk of the wealth made from the centres leaving the economies they should in fact be contributing to. Whilst some indigenous groups are comfortable with commercialising certain aspects of their cultural heritage such as ayahuasca in order to make a living, that doesn’t mean to say that they have a monopoly on these practices and benefit the most from them financially.

An ayahuasca retreat centre in Iquitos, Peru, image courtesy of Ayahuasca Foundation

For those considering visiting an ayahuasca centre, taking the time to research centres and who monopolises the profit generated from them is invaluable when it comes to participating in ayahuasca tourism responsibly. Whilst some centres will work collaboratively with indigenous peoples to ensure equity, many do not - increasing the economic and social marginalisation of indigenous communities. If conducted responsibly and conscientiously, ayahuasca tourism could help address the disparities that indigenous communities currently face, yet this can only occur if indigenous peoples are able to have a majority stake-hold in this ever-expanding industry. Taking time to consider how you are engaging with ayahuasca tourism, particularly from a financial standpoint, can contribute to the process of establishing this stake-hold as well as supporting the practice of meaningful reciprocity.

However, to state that all indigenous peoples are comfortable with commercialising ayahuasca, even for their own benefit, is to contribute to the homogenisation of a vast range of communities and cultures. The reality is that many indigenous peoples have concerns about or outrightly reject the marketing of ayahuasca to tourists in order to generate a livelihood. In an interview with VICE, Vidal Jaquehua, a Quechua native who started his own travel company explained that he decided against offering ayahuasca ceremonies due to his belief of “let[ting] people practice, and don’t make a business out of it.”. For some indigenous people, commercialising ayahuasca fundamentally goes against its purpose and distorts its meaning, causing them to refuse to offer it to outsiders.

A statement put out by Coshikox, an organisation composed of Shipibo-Konibo and Xetebo peoples reveals further concerns about the impacts of the commercialisation of ayahuasca. The statement highlighted that rising demand has caused a lack of resources to educate indigenous youth about ayahuasca ceremonies and how to facilitate them responsibly, limiting the ability of these indigenous groups to participate in ayahuasca ceremonies amongst themselves. This is adding another form of pressure on indigenous communities to facilitate access to certain aspects of their culture to their own detriment. As a tourist, it is important to respect the various opinions of indigenous peoples about ayahuasca and the degrees to which they are comfortable facilitating access to it for foreigners. Supporting the self-determination of indigenous peoples, whether they agree with the commercialisation of ayahuasca or not, is an integral part of understanding and engaging with it ethically.

But what about the environment? Although this is a less frequently discussed topic in relation to ayahuasca tourism, it is closely linked with commercialisation as well as larger discussions about the future of South America’s natural habitats.

The B. caapi vine, the base ingredient for the ayahuasca brew, takes a minimum of 5 years to grow and mature. Whilst many indigenous people now cultivate B. caapi vines to make a living, such cultivation is scattered and varies in production rates as the demand for ayahuasca has only peaked in the last couple of decades. Therefore, facilitators of ayahuasca ceremonies have largely had to rely on wild populations of the vine. Whilst the vine is not yet considered endangered, it has now disappeared from certain regions across Peru, a stark warning about the future of wild B. caapi vine populations that have long been tended to by indigenous peoples. Whilst the chacruna plant as well as others that provide the psychoactive component of ayahuasca (known as DMT) can be grown in 2-3 years, the B. caapi vines requires much longer and the loss of its wild populations would only destabilise the natural as well as social ecosystems it is a part of.

Abraham Guevara harvesting B. caapi vines, image courtesy of Kahpi: Ayahuasca Hub

The loss of these wild populations will ultimately only propel the clearing of rainforest in order to create plantations where the B. caapi vines and chacruna plants can be cultivated in a more efficient and productive manner. With an increasing demand for ayahuasca to be exported across the globe and a lack of laws regulating its production and exportation, the pressure to produce greater and greater quantities of the necessary plants threatens the sustainability of natural habitats. Whilst village collectives such as the Junin Pablo Ayahuasca Committee have been started by those committed to growing and harvesting B. caapi vines in a sustainable way, these collectives are small and do not always have the financial support required to keep them active. With the Amazon already being negatively impacted by a number of different industries such as cattle ranching and timber harvesting, the unregulated demand for ayahuasca will only further increase the rate of damage.

For tourists, there is a certain limit as to what action can be taken to avoid harming the environment as a result of ayahuasca tourism. However, being an informed consumer can go a long way. Inquire about the sustainability of the ayahuasca you are intending to consume and try to avoid engaging with businesses that are harming the Amazon rainforest when possible. Supporting environmental campaigns or organisations spearheaded by indigenous communities is another way to try and limit negatively impacting the environment when participating in ayahuasca tourism.

Given the issues associated with ayahuasca tourism, should foreigners avoid engaging with it altogether? As with many questions, there is no one correct answer to this one. Even if there was one, it is unlikely tourists would stop seeking out ayahuasca. But as Mark Hay explains, tourists do not need to ‘step away from ayahuasca’ but rather be ‘far more conscientious of how and why they are engaging with other cultures’ ayahuasca traditions’. Travelling and having the ability to connect with other people’s cultural practices is something to revel in but it is important to be ethical and sustainable when doing so in order to preserve the longevity of these opportunities and respect the people who are facilitating them. The future of ayahuasca hangs in a delicate balance and it is in the best interest of all parties involved to maintain that balance for as long as possible.

Aisha Taylor Durán is a Cuban-British master’s student at the University of Liverpool specialising in International Slavery Studies.

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