One journey ends, and new stories begin in the long awaited conclusion to Season 6, Quito.

This has been a fantastic season for us and a story we feel incredible lucky to have gotten to tell.

We wish the best of luck to Freddie, Jenna, Laurene and Ryan on all their new journeys and adventures, wherever they may lead.

I first heard about ayahuasca years ago when I read the now-famous National Geographic article in which a journalist drinks a mystical Amazonian brew that changes her life and cures her depression. I wasn’t looking to be cured of any illnesses or ailments, though many people report being healed of numerous addictions and diseases, including various forms of cancer, after drinking ayahuasca. The thing that stood out for me – beside the writer’s descriptions of facing her own personal hell – is that in her final ayahuasca ceremony, she vomits up a black snake. I’m sitting in my friend’s college apartment, and I’m reading in National Geographic that a journalist actually vomited a snake.

My first thought was, NO she did not.

My second thought was, I HAVE to try it.

Fast forward to 2010 and I’m living in an apartment with three strangers in Ecuador, doing a little thing we like to call Jet Set Zero. Laurene, fresh from volunteering in the Ecuadorian Amazon, asks if I want to try ayahuasca in probably our second ever conversation. That was my first lesson in learning that the French don’t mince words. And as she talks, I remember: Ayahuasca. Just the name conjured up visions of jungles, shamans, and encountering my inner demons, exploring my subconscious, pushing back the veil of our modern-day blinders and reconnecting with an ancient, spiritual past. Let’s be honest- I was mostly wondering if I, too, was going to vomit a snake.

I wasn’t always fascinated by the prospect of drinking an Amazonian plant that had been boiled and prayed over for hours and hours. I wasn’t always intrigued by the thought of confronting my worst fears or exploring other dimensions. Nor do I recall ever wondering what I would find deep within me- after every shred of vanity, ego, and finally, dignity, had been torn away. But the more time I spent in Ecuador, the more I found myself researching everything I could about ayahuasca and the knowledge it imparts to those who venture down its path.

I do find shamanism interesting- mostly because I am fascinated by indigenous cultures and the way they hold on to beliefs that are so ancient compared to ours. And I seem to be drawn to countries where aboriginal or indigenous cultures still exist. My favorite places to travel to are the ones that are the most different from home.

Give me Papua New Guinea over Paris any day. While we’re moving on to touch screen this and high def that, other cultures are practicing the same beliefs that their ancestors have for the last several hundred years. I’m all for progress, but I find meaning in the fact that these societies’ customs have been fostered by centuries of learning and experience, as opposed to modern-day worship of the latest, greatest iPhone app.  The irony is that as technology increasingly connects our world, it also drives us further from the basic experience of face-to-face interaction.  Technology may make life easier, but it also weakens meaningful connection as interpersonal contact is diluted by texts, emails, and Facebook messages.

The more I travel, the more I encounter firsthand the glaring disconnect between hyper-materialistic America and the rest of the world. In the U.S., we are consumed by our consumption and our belief that “he who dies with the most toys wins.”  To me, mobility – not money – equates to freedom and I believe that the more things you own, the more things own you.  Living in South America, I felt more grounded, more in tune with what really matters in life. As a result, I felt surprisingly comfortable seeking answers and exploring spirituality through shamanism and ayahuasca, practices that indigenous people have honored for centuries.

The biggest obstacle to partaking in ayahuasca was finding a shaman- a legitimate shaman.  The shaman is perhaps the most important part of the experience, because if ayahuasca shows you your worst fears and demons, you are going to want someone skilled in navigating the spiritual realms to make sure you come out on the other side.  The ‘work’ you do on yourself with ayahuasca is personal in that it does come from you (and it is work), but the shaman plays a vital role in facilitating your journey.  The shaman also administers special healing songs, called icaros, that heal the spirit and in turn, the body.

People say ayahuasca gives you exactly what you need and never more than you can handle.  There were times when I would beg to differ on the latter though, times when I felt ayahuasca gave me way more than I was ready for and I questioned whether I would come out on the other side.

Australian journalist Rak Razam summed it up when he said something like, “Sometimes ayahuasca breaks you apart and afterward, the pieces fit together in a different way. You’re broken, but stronger in the broken places.”

A single ayahuasca ceremony can be so powerful that it can equate to years of self-development in terms of the issues you can work through and the new perspectives you can reach.  You do not need an illness or crisis to benefit from ayahuasca.  Not everyone drinks ayahuasca because they seek healing, though it is hard not to feel that you have been healed afterward.  Simply look around to observe how much healing our world needs.  Symptoms of our Western malaise are evident: a mass mentality of material accumulation; a society that would rather type an email than knock on their neighbor’s door; an entire generation who doesn’t know what to do with their lives.

Ayahuasca holds the space for undertaking a journey deep within your psyche and has the potential to shatter all the beliefs you hold about how the world works.  It can be hard to feel that you are the same person afterward.

No one wants to vomit snakes, but then again, think about how much better off we would all be if we purged the equivalent of a spiritual black snake.  Ridding ourselves of negativity in the form of old belief systems, self-defeating or addictive behavior – consider the collective healing our entire planet would experience if we each relinquished some of the toxic debris we carry around.

Food For Thought – Some things I read while researching ayahuasca

• Jet Set Zero in Quito: Episode 6
• National Geographic article
• One person’s account of 18 ayahuasca ceremonies
• Excerpt from Rak Razam’s book Aya: A Shamanic Odyssey

Sadly, I think this makes me a bad fit for my job.  I can’t help but feel that I’m intruding on something deeply personal when I point my camera at a person in prayer.  There’s a great scene in Waking Life when filmmaker Caveh Zahedi tries to summarize the position of the Christian film critic Bazin by saying, “Film is like a record of God or the face of God, or of the ever-changing face of God.”  It’s a beautiful thought, and one that should strike terror into the hearts of any god-fearer with a camera phone.  Still, we don’t have to share Bazin’s beliefs to recognize that the strangers I’m filming DO believe, and that if ever there was a moment when they might fear me capturing their god on camera, this is it.  (For the record, Bazin never called it a “holy moment,” as Caveh claims.)

They don't build 'em like they used to.

So why do I film someone when I’m worried they’ll take offense?  Because, inevitably, they don’t.  Like my own discomfort, my surprise in these situations is constant.  A worshipper will open his or her eyes, catch sight of me, and grant me a polite nod or smile, a small acknowledgment that yes, I am praying and yes, it’s OK to film it.  What I continually forget is that for those who believe,  my camera is inconsequential, trivial even.  It has no more ability to affect their relationship with a higher power than does my own presence.

My insignificance isn’t the only reason I’m non-threatening.  In this episode, our shaman, Ed, opines that Westerners (or maybe just Americans), “lack spiritual training of any kind.”  I’ll let you debate that.  Certainly, we lack the spiritual/religious cohesion of Vietnam or Ecuador.  In America, people of all faiths are used to having cynics ridicule them on one end while other cynics try to abuse their trust on the other. In Ecuador, where people don’t fear that their beliefs will be mocked or militarized, practitioners have less fear of openly expressing their faith.  Er, Catholic and Quichua practitioners, anyway.

Whatever your beliefs, I hope you enjoy the spiritual explorations of episode 6.  It’s not all churches, either.  Jenna’s crazy encounter in the jungle is still blowing my mind.  If more spiritual ceremonies were like that, they would be a lot more fun to film.

From Thailand,
Evan

The next (and much anticipated) episode in Quito’s story is finally here. 

Are travelers more spiritually aware? The cast splits as they search for answers to some of life’s most ancient questions. Jenna ventures into the jungles of Ecuador for a taste of hallucinogenic ayahuasca, while Freddie and Laurene embark on personal quests through some of Ecuador’s beautiful Catholic churches. Ryan longs for that other great spiritual center: home.

No, I’m not talking about that time that Ryan had to outrun the cops who spotted him peeing in Quito’s main plaza in broad daylight (although that’s not in the episodes either.  Sorry).  I’m talking about the realities of story and editing which make it so that certain adventures will never make the cut.  Take this episode, for example.  We see the gang’s hike around the lagunas, but what we don’t see is the night that followed, when Freddie and Ryan met up with a bunch of Otavalo locals and hiked through the woods to a solstice celebration at a waterfall.  I know!  It’s even cooler than it sounds.  So why don’t we show it?

Well, a couple reasons.  First, the woods are dark and there’s no room on the rig for a light.  I know you’re like, “DUDE, just get a light!” but it’s not that simple.  In case you didn’t hear, our first camera was stolen in Ecuador, so I wasn’t looking to attract any more attention to our new one than was necessary, and a light isn’t exactly subtle (as anyone who ever played Silent Hill knows).  We also figured that the scene just didn’t serve the story.

I bought her drinks all night and THEN she told me she had a boyfriend.

And life on the road, more than anywhere else, is about storytelling.  This existence lends itself easily to a narrative format by giving our lives those concrete beginnings and endings that our rational mind craves.   The great tragedy of office life is that it makes us slaves to time without providing a narrative that we can comprehend.  When I worked behind a desk, my life lacked any meaningful beginnings or endings, any significant temporal milestones by which I could mark my growth beyond ’15 years with the company!’.  Travel is travel because it has an ending against which we’re able to see the story of our lives unfold.  With an ending in sight, we realize how each moment leads to another, how one expectation shatters the one before, and how seemingly insignificant events have the potential to become the center of our lives.  When we travel, we are all storytellers.

Of course, our lives tell a story no matter what we do.  So while I’m frustrated that I can’t share some of my favorite moments from this adventure with the rest of the world, I know that even the ones that make the cut are no more or less consequential than the moment you’re experiencing right now.  If our measure of an event’s meaning is its inclusion in a documentary series, then most of human history is pointless, but if we believe in the value of a life lived for its own sake then these exploits are worth it whether or not they’re seen by anyone.

So why do we film our lives at all?  Jet Set Zero’s highest aim is to inspire people to take the kind of chances that we’re taking, and it’s easier to do that when we’ve got something to show you.   Hopefully we’ll show you a lot, but if we can’t, then we hope to show you something cool.  And above all else, we hope that you’re making the most of your moments, whether you’re watching or not.

From Thailand,
Evan

P.S. But please watch.

P.P.S. Sure, we could put those scenes up as a stand-alone short, and maybe we will soon…or maybe one day they’ll be extras on a Jet Set Zero DVD…

—

UPDATE (9/23)

Speaking of elements that get left out, here’s something that I completely forgot to mention but is vitally important.  You see the scene in this episode where Ryan is eating pizza and he says it’s “sooo good”?  That’s actually the WORST pizza in the world, bar none, and I have no idea what he’s talking about.  You can practically see it on screen.  If you ever find yourself in the Mariscal district of Quito and spot that pizza place and think, “I’m hungry,” do yourself a favor and go just 15 feet down to the Magic Bean ice cream shop on the corner.  Their ice cream is cheap, delicious, and makes you feel good, whereas that pizza tastes like it’s made out of library books and used waxing strips, and makes you feel glad that mankind will one day die out.  That is all.

Quito!

In this week’s release – Variety Packed –  the cast experiences the stunning beauty of Ecuador as well as their most challenging moments yet. Ryan reaches the end of his money while the rest of the cast takes a trip outside of the city with new friend Amy. Upon returning the cast discovers that Ryan isn’t the only one with serious financial problems.

Check it out below, and as always let us know what you think.

This Wednesday’s release is another short from Quito, this time a look at some classic Ecuadorian cuisine with best pal Amy of www.amyblogschow.com.

Tyler: lessonsfromavagabond.tumblr.com
Jean Pierre: pencilfingers.tumblr.com
Evita: nomadnesstv.com
Courtney: courtneyuncubed.tumblr.com | www.courtneyscott.tv
Sarah & Perrin: sistersbailey.wordpress.com
Jenna: jetsetmeister.tumblr.com
Laurene: laureneworld.wordpress.com

“We didn’t add any vinegar.”

-Amy Cao and I tasting our homemade ceviche at 5am before she had to catch her flight back to the US

Watch the latest episode of Amy Blogs Chow’s Stupidly Simple Snacks as the two of us take over my kitchen in Quito to make Ecuadorian ceviche.

EATING (and then trying to cook) while traveling with your best friend.

When Amy Cao visited me in Quito and brought our replacement video camera after the first one became a casualty of bus robbery, it was a bit of a working holiday for her. Amy’s a non-cooking food-writer-turned-food-show-host who produces charmingly comedic Stupidly Simple Snacks videos for the many of us who, like her, are handicapped in the kitchen.

Since Amy’s life and profession revolve around food (as have many of our best conversations in the eight years we’ve been friends), we spent a lot of time eating.

Eating our way through Ecuador

We toured Quito by day, ducking into tiny mom-and-pop restaurants for set lunches that cost $2. If we were feeling really good about ourselves, we’d splurge on $5 ceviche. At night she’d visit me at work at Uncle Ho’s to dine on fresh shrimp rolls and Vietnamese coffee as she kept up with her website via MacBook.

The professional version

We wandered through local markets drinking exotic fresh fruit juices like taxo, naranjilla and tomate de arbol. We devoured regional dishes like shredded pork with buttery mashed potato cakes topped with a fried egg, not caring that our lunch’s source (a giant fried pig’s body) was staring us in the face. We ate 50 cent cheese empanadas on the bus and sampled $20 guinea pig at a 5-star hotel. In short, we did what we do best: talked at length about the world and the lives we spend traversing it over a long, lovely meal.

It wasn’t all mangos and banana smoothies though. On Amy’s last night in Quito, we decided to roll up our sleeves and take over the kitchen in my apartment in Quito (although, good roommate that I am, decided not to “borrow” Freddie’s orange for our recipe). We filmed the debacle – ahem, culinary success – and Amy created a video so you can laugh along as we endeavor to make Ecuadorian ceviche. And yes, we’re in our pajamas at the end of the video (and yes, we have matching shirts that say Up with Life/Down with Oil in reference to Ecuador’s endangered Yasuni rainforest) because we went out for a celebratory dinner at a hillside hacienda for Amy’s last meal…and then she dragged me out of bed at 5am so we could taste our masterpiece and film ourselves eating raw fish at dawn before she flew back to NYC.

Armed with our ingredients

See what we concoct in an unexpected culinary comedy when this Jet Set Zero cast member stirs the pot with Amy Blogs Chow.