Amid the bedlam of the Putumayo exists a key to healing. In a tiny, dirty village on the muddy, rust-colored banks of this dangerous river, lives a sometimes drunken and always sad ayahuasquero, who showed me that the world's rain forests and the ancient practices of healing evolving there are not a sham. There does exist the possibility to discover the cure for the maladies of the world. But it just may be that it won't come in apill or abottle; itmight not be something you can even put into your hand. It may just be that it's an ethereal magic that will never be glimpsed under a microscope, precisely because it exists on another plane of existence - a plane where the Spirits of the Plants wait for us to reestablish communication.