I am lying under a thatched roof on the ground, with two banana leaves under me and a small blanket on top. It's dark, and we are immersed in the buzz and hiss of the night jungle. The nearest road is an hour plane ride away. I have accepted the bitter natem brew. There is no going back now. This is ceremony and there is no rushing. Earlier in the day, we hiked an hour into the bush to visit the Shaman at his house where he is brewing the plants in a caldron on an open fire.