animal sacrifices in the depths of a valley

One day, I was making treks from the holy hot springs of Kheer Ganga back to Kasol village in Parvati Valley, tucked in the Himalayas of India. I was still working and inspired by the clean up the mountains campaign we were running and was carrying a bag of garbage down with me from Kheer Ganga, one of the many villages that doesn’t have any facilities for garbage management nor roads to get there.  

People were so grateful for the work we were doing that I would often be invited for tea in the local teashops or to stay with families in the area which was a very new and humbling experience. There was a beautiful spot on the trek down where a holy waterfall cascaded alongside a temple, named Rudranath, dedicated to the God Shiva. Here I sat at a little shack having been invited for chai while I overlooked the mountains and the waters that were shimmering with glitter from the minerals buried in the rocks.

I noticed a few local men across the way in their traditional tupi’s and recognised them to be the tribal people of Malana, one of the oldest tribes in the world. These people will not touch a foreigner and there are rumours that they are the descendants of Alexander the Great's army. They are one of the eldest democracies in the world and maintain ancient traditions that make them incredibly unique people’s of the Himalayas.

As I looked over to the waterfall and watched this group of men, I noticed something strange was going on. A wooden post had been erected, there were drums beating and, as I looked harder, I saw red splatters along the ground. They’re doing an animal sacrifice, I realised. My mind went all over the shop if I am honest, a curious part of me wanted to watch and then another part of me was a little disturbed by what I was witnessing, as I sat there on my own nursing a chai with a bag of garbage at my feet. I knew that the traditions of the area could be as culturally surprising to me as the behaviours of westerners can be to the locals and, hence, a mutual respect was there despite meeting one of the most challenging cultural activities thus far witnessed with my naked eyes; an animal's decapitation.

I decided I would wait for the procession to finish in order to continue walking. I turned to look away and nailed my tea. I took some deep breaths and had a moment of “well, I guess that doesn’t happen everyday” to myself as I pondered on what was going on next to me. As if they had heard the voice in my head, a Malana man walked past me to go in to the kitchen of the little tea shack. In his hand he held the head of a lamb by its ears, its beady eye’s staring right at me, as its little tongue hung out of its mouth and a ragged bloody edge lined its throat. “Dear God... I don’t think I can ever eat lamb again” I said to myself a little shaken while wondering what the tea house owner was going to do with the head.

This was not the only sacrifice I saw while I was in the mountains and when I got to the end of my trip 5 months later and was staying with my surrogate family in a little remote village, a larger procession took place where the whole village was celebrating the sacrifice of a goat. I got to a strange place when it came to morality.  These people don’t usually eat meat and survive mostly on rice and beans with vegetable curry. The sacrificed goat was distributed amongst the whole village and a prayer was made for them all. Sure they also made a sing and dance about it but it certainly made the occasion an auspicious one. More than what we might say for the churn, plump and dump factories of the Western world's farming system. 

On the last night I was invited to eat some goat curry and as a guest I didn't refuse despite me being vegetarian. I personally cannot say where I stand with animal sacrifices but certainly being a witness to a lamb's decapitation shook my soul and had my eyes opened to some of the most powerful cultural encounters one has whilst being on tour.

my shamanic encounter

In January this year I went to a Thai yoga retreat where essentially you fast, do yoga and meditate for 10 days. Now I do have my 'alternative' tendencies, and while ever keen to keep feet securely on the ground, I also recognise the amazing rewards you can get out of a bit of health, exercise and peace of mind. Namely, in my case 6 kilos, toe-touching and the ability to be surprisingly zen in the company of mi Venezuelan madre (who came with me) for a whole month.

While I was there I met some pretty interesting folk. Documentary producers, chefs, teachers, events folk, advertising peeps and peace-n-loving hippies. It was such a mix bag. One minute you're talking about the weather in the UK, the next you're taking a deep dive in to the world of Quantum Physics.

On day 7 of my fast, some 4 kilos down and reaching that point where the head rushes were intensifying and my yoga was at a stage where I could nearly kiss my knee without bending it  - I decided to investigate some of the other abstract "healings" that were taking place at The Sanctuary.

That is when I met Vinod, a Shaman from the UK, who owned a gorgeous wooden hut in the mountains overlooking the ocean. My consultation was to begin with a conversation about me. Why am I hear? Well I guess I'm just curious. What are you looking to achieve? Insight perhaps (although secretly I may have wanted to experience one of those far-out Shamanic rituals which included vomiting and hallucinations that Bruce Parry had in his BBC series, Tribes). What do you know about Shamans? They worship the earth. And so on... Until it was my turn...

What do Shaman's believe? There's no such thing as right or wrong. No polarised opposites like heaven and hell. What rules do they follow? The "natural laws" of the universe. That there are "layers" of other-worlds that they can connect with in their minds, like new dimensions... This is interesting I thought, so what can I do? You can find you're power animal, he said. Cool...

And so Vinod proceeded to begin the ritual. My job was easy. Lie down, breathe, relax and follow his lead while he played drums, chanted, burnt woody incense and asked me to "let go". The process was simple, in a state of relaxation I would go in to "other dimension" by visualising a beautiful place, falling down a hole and then coming out the other end where, potentially, I'd hang out with some animals until I found my "power" one... OK I'm losing you aren't I?

While ceremonious (and arguably sacred), the experience was more an exercise in imagination. Which is precisely the point. Vinod later explained that the Shamans believe you connect using the right-side of your brains to these "other dimensions". That these imaginings and visualisations are where you can attain insight. And he's right. Like how, apparently, Nobel prize winner Francis Crick discovered the structure for DNA while high on LSD. Not that I would advocate trying it yourself. I never have. But then again I've never discovered double helix molecular structures either...

Now I'm ever skeptical although equally open to new experiences and ancient rituals, they fascinate me, but regardless of whether Shamanism is a farce or not - the creative exercise is what keeps human-beings alive and progressing; finding solutions to problems and propelling us forwards through the manifestation of ideas.

And as for my Shamanic ritual, perhaps I did attain a bit of insight, I discovered that you should not have one in the jungle without wearing insect repellent and that my Shamanic Power animal is an Elephant...

and a Monkey....

Hey, no one said you can't have more than one ;)