"First you must ask the mushroom if he will allow you to boil him."

"And sometimes the mushroom, he have nothing to teach."

"Last year, the mushroom, he told me I could not take him unless he was a gift from someone I did not know"

Quotes from the proprietor of our hostel, an epic fellow with a hair trigger laugh, a serious interest in magical mushrooms, and a pretty good guitar player. He along with his dog, a weimereiner (sp?) named vodka, entertained indiscriminately.

He was a writer of some sort, and at present was concentrating on trying to describe the mushroom trip in words. I was sort of reminded of the Mitch Hedberg line, "why is the floor as low as I can go?"

The main problem ( in his words) was that communication by either voice or pen, while tripping would change the trip, and after the trip, the words to describe the trip can no longer be summoned in a sensical order. The very act of Observation changes the behavior. A true literary challenge.

Perhaps one day the mushroom will tell him how he wants to described.

Once while discussing fruits, the Aussies asked the proprietor If Mexico had dragon fruits... He said he thought that they did not, and then turned to ask his friend in spanish. His friend wore a large bushy black beard, and also a poncho, made from a beard.

The response:
( rapid Spanish)... Idiota da da da da pendejo da da da da pinche... Da da da da.

The proprietor then turned back to us and said "as a matter of fact we have seven kinds of dragon fruit"

The hostel cost 50 p per night, this included free tea, coffee and mezcal. Mmmmm hmmmm mezcal. A very relaxed atmosphere, show up, stay, party, pay when you can with what you have, maybe help out on a farm if the fancy strikes. Be forewarned however, bad behavior can easily get you a curse. A real curse. Lots of wayward shamans in these parts.

The place was incredibly scenic, nothing like going from lying in a sweat soaked sheet covered in mosquitos to needing to sleep in a beanie. I believe San Jose is at about 10,000ft in the Southern sierras. it is about 4 hrs outside Oaxaca city, and also puerto. Beautiful. I have never seen clouds maneuver like they do here. It is crisp in the daytime, and you try to keep track of your bodys relation to the sunny patches, and in the night, it is quite cold and the wind absolutely howls. I Thought the tin roof of my shack was definitely coming off that first night. It held, and apparently it held by a large margin as the same structure survived hurricane winds of 220 km/hr earlier in the year.

Hired a local shaman for a te mezcal ceremony early one morning. There is quite a bit to it, but basically you climb into a small insulated igloo located on a private ranch in the mountains( it is quite cold to start.) then the shaman places red hot minerals ( rocks of different varieties ) into the center of the igloo, and also a bucket of really good (taste, smell, sound, todo) herbal tea. The tea is then drizzled onto the rocks with a small bindle of herby sprigs and the resultant steam will put a shine on the darkest part of your soul. You cook in tea vapor for about an hour and then emerge and take a cold mountain spring water shower, followed by an 8-small-cups-of hot-tea shower.

You are then reborn onto the porch under the early morning sun into a new body made of summer breeze and petunia petals, then you try to imagine how it is possible that you have ever complained a day in your life.

I recommend te mezcal.

I had heard the shaman had a degree inPsilocybinic (sp?) mushrooms from Berkeley. When we asked him though, he told us he had a dietetics degree from a college in Florida, and also his dive masters certification. He also used to be the general manager of señor frogs.

All shamans gotta come from somewhere.

He offered to trade me some land in the mountains for my truck. I told him that I needed it currently, but maybe on the way back. 4wd Tacomas with std transmission are highly sought after here, in case anyone wants some land in the magic mountains of Mexico. Victor, by the hostel also has cash in hand for a similar truck.

Ate the best French toast of my life under an impossibly elaborate cloud- dogfight, and then headed for Oaxaca city.