The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge Read online

  Several months after my withdrawal, I considered for the first time the idea of arranging my field notes in a systematic way. As the data I had collected were quite voluminous, and included much miscellaneous information, I began by trying to establish a classification system. I divided the data into areas of related concepts and procedures and arranged the areas hierarchically according to subjective importance — that is, in terms of the impact that each of them had had on me. In that way I arrived at the following classification: uses of the hallucinogenic plants; procedures and formulas used in sorcery; acquisition and manipulation of power objects; uses of the medicinal plants; songs and legends.

  Reflecting upon the phenomena I had experienced, I realized that my attempt at classification had produced nothing more than an inventory of categories; any attempt to refine my scheme would therefore yield only a more complex inventory. That was not what I wanted. During the months following my withdrawal from the apprenticeship, I needed to understand what I had experienced, and what I had experienced was the teaching of a coherent system of beliefs by means of a pragmatic and experimental method. It had been evident to me from the very first session in which I had participated that Don Juan's teachings possessed an internal cohesion. Once he had definitely decided to communicate his knowledge to me, he proceeded to present his explanations in orderly steps. To discover that order and to understand it proved to be a most difficult task for me.

  My inability to arrive at an understanding seems to have been traceable to the fact that, after four years of apprenticeship, I was still a beginner. It was clear that Don Juan's knowledge and his method of conveying it were those of his benefactor; thus my difficulties in understanding his teachings must have been analogous to those he himself had encountered. Don Juan alluded to our similarity as beginners through incidental comments about his incapacity to understand his teacher during his own apprenticeship. Such remarks led me to believe that to any beginner, Indian or non-Indian, the knowledge of sorcery was rendered incomprehensible by the outlandish characteristics of the phenomena he experienced. Personally, as a Western man, I found these characteristics so bizarre that it was virtually impossible to explain them in terms of my own everyday life, and I was forced to the conclusion that any attempt to classify my field data in my own terms would be futile.

  Thus it became obvious to me that Don Juan's knowledge had to be examined in terms of how he himself understood it; only in such terms could it be made evident and convincing. In trying to reconcile my own views with Don Juan's, however, I realized that whenever he tried to explain his knowledge to me, he used concepts that would render it 'intelligible' to him. As those concepts were alien to me, trying to understand his knowledge in the way he did placed me in another untenable position. Therefore, my first task was to determine his order of conceptualization. While working in that direction, I saw that Don Juan himself had placed particular emphasis on a certain area of his teachings — specifically, the uses of hallucinogenic plants. On the basis of this realization, I revised my own scheme of categories.

  Don Juan used, separately and on different occasions, three hallucinogenic plants: peyote (Lophophora williamsii), Jimson weed (Datura inoxia syn. D. meteloicles), and a mushroom (possibly Psilocybe mexicana). Since before their contact with Europeans, American Indians have known the hallucinogenic properties of these three plants. Because of their properties, the plants have been widely employed for pleasure, for curing, for witchcraft, and for attaining a state of ecstasy. In the specific context of his teachings, Don Juan related the use of Datura inoxia and Psilocybe mexicana to the acquisition of power, a power he called an 'ally'. He related the use of Lophophora williamsii to the acquisition of wisdom, or the knowledge of the right way to live.

  The importance of the plants was, for Don Juan, their capacity to produce stages of peculiar perception in a human being. Thus he guided me into experiencing a sequence of these stages for the purpose of unfolding and validating his knowledge. I have called them 'states of non-ordinary reality', meaning unusual reality as opposed to the ordinary reality of everyday life. The distinc— tion is based on the inherent meaning of the states of non— ordinary reality. In the context of Don Juan's knowledge they were considered as real, although their reality was differentiated from ordinary reality.

  Don Juan believed the states of non-ordinary reality to be the only form of pragmatic learning and the only means of acquiring power. He conveyed the impression that other parts of his teachings were incidental to the acquisition of power. The point of view permeated Don Juan's attitude toward everything not directly connected with the states of non-ordinary reality. Throughout my field notes there are scattered references to the way don Juan felt. For example, in one conversation he suggested that some objects have a certain amount of power in themselves. Although he himself had no respect for power objects, he said they were frequently used as aids by lesser brujos. I often asked him about such objects, but he seemed totally uninterested in discussing them. When the topic was raised again on another occasion, however, he reluctantly consented to talk about them.

  'There are certain objects that are permeated with power,' he said. 'There are scores of such objects which are fostered by powerful men with the aid of friendly spirits. These objects are tools — not ordinary tools, but tools of death. Yet they only instruments; they have no power to teach. Properly speaking, they are in the realm of was objects designed for strife; they are made to kill, to be hurled.'

  'What kind of objects are they, Don Juan?'

  'They are not really objects; rather, they are types of power.'

  'How can one get those types of power, Don Juan?'

  'That depends on the kind of object you want.'

  'How many kinds are there?'

  'As I have already said, there are scores of them. Anything can be a power object.'

  'Well, which are the most powerful, then?'

  'The power of an object depends on its owner, on the kind of man he is. A power object fostered by a lesser brujo is almost a joke; on the other hand, a strong, powerful brujo gives his strength to his tools.'

  'Which power objects are most common, then? Which ones do most brujos prefer?'

  'There are no preferences. They are all power objects, all just the same.'

  'Do you have any yourself, Don Juan?'

  He did not answer; he just looked at me and laughed. He remained quiet for a long time, and I thought my questions were annoying him.

  'There are limitations on those types of powers,' he went on. 'But such a point is, I am sure, incomprehensible to you. It has taken me nearly a lifetime to understand that, by itself, an ally can reveal all the secrets of these lesser powers, rendering them rather childish. I had tools like that at one time, when I was very young.'

  'What power objects did you have?'

  'Maiz-pinto, crystals and feathers.'

  'What is maiz-pinto, Don Juan?'

  'It is a small kernel of corn which has a streak of red colour in its middle.'

  'It is a single kernel?'

  'No. A brujo owns forty-eight kernels.'

  'What do the kernels do, Don Juan?'

  'Each one of them can kill a man by entering into his body.'

  'How does a kernel enter into a human body?'

  'It is a power object and its power consists, among other things, in entering into the body.'

  'What does it do when it enters into the body?'

  'It immerses itself in the body; it settles on the chest, or on the intestines. The man becomes ill, and unless the brujo who is tending him is stronger than the bewitcher, he will die within three months from the moment the kernel entered into his body.'

  'Is there any way of curing him?'

  'The only way is to suck the kernel out, but very few brujos would dare to do that. A brujo may succeed in sucking the kernel out, but unless he is powerful enough to repel it, it will get inside him and will kill him instead.'

  'But how do
es a kernel manage to enter into someone's body?'

  'To explain that I must tell you about corn witchcraft, which is one of the most powerful witchcrafts I know. The witchcraft is done by two kernels. One of them is put inside a fresh bud of a yellow flower. The flower is then set on a spot where it will come into contact with the victim: the road on which he walks every day, or any place where he is habitually present. As soon as the victim steps on the kernel, or touches it in any way, the witchcraft is done. The kernel immerses itself in the body.'

  'What happens to the kernel after the man has touched it?'

  'All its power goes inside the man, and the kernel is free. It becomes just another kernel. It may be left at the side of the witchcraft, or it may be swept away; it does not matter. It is better to sweep it away into the underbrush, where a bird will eat it.'

  'Can a bird eat it before the man touches it?'

  'No. No bird is that stupid, I assure you. The birds stay away from it.'

  'Don Juan then described a very complex procedure by which such power kernels can be obtained.

  'You must bear in mind that maiz-pinto is merely an instrument, not an ally,' he said. 'Once you make that distinction you will have no problem. But if you consider such tools to be supreme, you will be a fool.'

  'Are the power objects as powerful as an ally?' I asked.

  Don Juan laughed scornfully before answering. It seemed that he was trying hard to be patient with me.

  'Maiz-pinto, crystals, and feathers are mere toys in comparison with an ally,' he said. 'These power objects are necessary only when a man does not have an ally. It was a waste of time to pursue them, especially for you. You should be trying to get an ally; when you succeed, you will understand what I am telling you now. Power objects are like a game for children.'

  'Don't get me wrong, Don Juan,' I protested. 'I want to have an ally, but I also want to know everything I can. You yourself have said that knowledge is power.'

  'No!' he said emphatically. 'Power rests on the kind of knowledge one holds. What is the sense of knowing things that are useless?'

  In Don Juan's system of beliefs, the acquisition of an ally meant exclusively the exploration of the states of non-ordinary reality he produced in me through the use of hallucinogenic plants. He believed that by focusing on these states and omitting other aspects of the knowledge he taught I would arrive at a coherent view of the phenomena I had experienced.

  I have therefore divided this book into two parts. In the first part I present selection from my field notes dealing with the states of non-ordinary reality I underwent during my apprenticeship. As I have arranged my notes to fit the continuity of the narrative, they are not always in proper chronological sequence. I never wrote my description of a state of non-ordinary reality until several days after I had experienced it, waiting until I was able to treat it calmly and objectively. My conversations with don Juan, however, were taken down as they occurred, immediately after each state of non-ordinary reality. My reports of these conversations, therefore, sometimes antedate the full description of an experience.

  My field notes disclose the subjective version of what I perceived while undergoing the experience. That version is presented here just as I narrated it to Don Juan, who demanded a complete and faithful recollection of every detail and a full recounting of each experience. At the time of recording these experience, I added incidental details in an attempt to recapture the total setting of each state of non-ordinary reality. I wanted to describe the emotional impact I had experienced as completely as possible.

  My field notes also reveal the content of Don Juan's system of beliefs. I have condensed long pages of questions and answers between Don Juan and myself in order to avoid reproducing the repetitiveness of conversation. But as I also want to reflect accurately the overall mood of our exchanges, I have deleted only dialogue that contributed nothing to my understanding of his way of knowledge. The information Don Juan gave me about his way of knowledge was always sporadic, and for every spurt on his part there were hours of probing on mine. Nevertheless, there were innumerable occasions on which he freely expounded his knowledge.

  In the second part of this book I present a structural analysis drown exclusively from the data reported in the first part. Through my analysis I seek to support the following contentions: (1) Don Juan presented his teachings as a system of logical thought; (2) the system made sense only if examined in the light of its structural units; and (3) the system was devised to guide an apprentice to a level of conceptualization which explained the order of the phenomena he had experienced.

  Part One The Teachings

  1

  My notes on my first session with Don Juan are dated 23 June 1961. That was the occasion when the teachings began. I had seen him several times previously in the capacity of on observer only. At every opportunity I had asked him to teach me about peyote. He ignored my request every time, but he never completely dismissed the subject, and I interpreted his hesitancy as a possibility that he might be inclined to talk about his knowledge with more coaxing.

  In this particular session he made it obvious to me that he might consider my request provided I possessed clarity of mind and purpose in reference to what I had asked him. It was impossible for me to fulfil such a condition, for I had asked him to teach me about peyote only as a means of establishing a link of communication with him. I thought his familiarity with the subject might predispose him to be more open and willing to talk, thus allowing me an entrance into his knowledge on the properties of plants. He had interpreted my request literally, however, and was concerned about my purpose in wishing to learn about peyote.

  Friday, 23 June 1961

  'Would you teach me about peyote, Don Juan?'

  'Why would you like to undertake such learning?'

  'I really would like to know about it. Is not just to want to know a good reason?'

  'No! You must search in your heart and find out why a young man like you wants to undertake such a task of learning.'

  'Why did you learn about it yourself, Don Juan?'

  'Why do you ask that?'

  'Maybe we both have the same reasons.'

  'I doubt that. I am an Indian. We don't have the same paths.'

  'The only reason I have is that I want to learn about it, just to know. But I assure you, Don Juan, my intentions are not bad.'

  'I believe you. I've smoked you.'

  'I beg your pardon!'

  'It doesn't matter now. I know your intentions.'

  'Do you mean you saw through me?'

  'You could put it that way.'

  'Will you teach me, then?'

  'No!'

  'Is it because I'm not an Indian?'

  'No. It is because you don't know your heart. What is important is that you know exactly why you want to involve yourself. Learning about 'Mescalito' is a most serious act. If you were an Indian your desire alone would be sufficient. Very few Indians have such a desire.'

  Sunday, 25 June 1961

  I stayed with Don Juan all afternoon on Friday. I was going to leave about 7 p.m. We were sitting on the porch in front of his house and I decided to ask him once more about the teaching. It was almost a routine question and I expected him to refuse again. I asked him if there was a way in which he could accept just my desire to learn, as if I were an Indian. He took a long time to answer. I was compelled to stay because he seemed to trying to decide something.

  Finally he told me that there was a way, and proceeded to delineate a problem. He pointed out that I was very tired sitting on the floor, and that the proper thing to do was to find a 'spot' (sitio) on the floor where I could sit without fatigue. I had been sitting with my knees up against my chest and my arms locked around my calves. When he said I was tired, I realized that my back ached and that I was quite exhausted.

  I waited for him to explain what he meant by a 'spot', but he made no overt attempt to elucidate the point. I thought that perhaps he meant that I should change posit
ions, so I got up and sat closer to him. He protested at my movement and clearly emphasized that a spot meant a place where a man could feel naturally happy and strong. He patted the place where he sat and said it was his own spot, adding that he had posed a riddle I had to solve by myself any further deliberation.

  What he had posed as a problem to be solved was certainly a riddle. I had no idea how to begin or even what he had in mind. Several times I asked for a clue, or at least a hint, as to how to proceed in locating a point where I felt happy and strong. I insisted and argued that I had no idea what he really meant because I couldn't conceive the problem. He suggested I walk around the porch until I found the spot.

  I got up and began to pace the floor. I felt silly and sat down in front of him.

  He became very annoyed with me and accused me of not listening, saying that perhaps I did not want to learn. After a while he calmed down and explained to me that not every place was good to sit or be on, and that within the confines of the porch there was one spot that was unique, a spot where I could be at my very best. It was my task to distinguish it from all the other places. The general pattern was that I had to 'feel' all the possible spots that were accessible until I could determine without a doubt which was the right one.

  I argued that although the porch was not too large (twelve by eight feet), the number of possible spots was overwhelming, and it would take me a very long time to check all of them, and that since he had not specified the size of the spot, the possibilities might be infinite. My arguments were futile. He got up and very sternly warned me that it might take me days to figure it out, but that if I did not solve the problem, I might as well leave because he would have nothing to say to me. He emphasized that he knew where my spot was, and that therefore I could not lie to him; he said this was the only way he could accept my desire to learn about Mescalito as a valid reason. He added that nothing in his world was a gift, that whatever there was to learn had to be learned the hard way.