Carson's short narrative

If you didn’t know, airport coffee tastes like the boiled remains of a dead rodent on a hot summer day, and it seems that all other consumables contained in airports share the same predicament. Thankfully I did not have to endure this for very long. I was in this airport for the same reason that many are, I was leaving on vacation, to Peru. This particular airplane would take me to Peru, but not to any airport.
I boarded the plane and soon after leaving the runway I was fast asleep. I woke up to hear about some slight turbulence that we would be undergoing. I didn’t think much of it at the time and soon after the announcement the plane started to shake very slightly. After a few seconds of this turbulence there was a loud clang and a free falling sensation; at this very moment everyone started screaming and the plane erupted into chaos. I had an odd feeling of calm, even as this tragedy unfolded around me. I heard another, louder, clang and felt a sharp pain on the side of my head, then everything went black.
When I regained consciousness I was laying on the edge of a strangely red lake. I sat up, while wondering what happened, I saw the origin of the coloring of the lake. There were hundreds of dead bodies all floating on top of the lake, with the tail of our airplane the only thing interrupting the bodies. The horror of this catastrophe suddenly replaced the calm I was feeling earlier. I ran away, horrified, into the jungle bordering the lake. I ran for what felt like days, until my muscles burned and I could run no more. I fell down. lost in my delirious state I could hardly grip reality, much less navigate a Peruvian jungle; so I slept.
When I awoke there was a group of people surrounding me, dressed like tribesmen, but unthreatening. These people took me to their village, one of thatched huts and ancient customs. The village was only made up of around 10 or 15 huts, ranging in size from 10 feet in diameter to somewhere near 50. The largest hut sat atop a hill, obviously the tribe’s leader lived here. The villagers led me to a small hut decorated with animal bones and feathers of every hue. I tried to tell the tribesmen of my predicament but, unsurprisingly, they could not understand.
They took me to what I figured was a medicine man. He hastily bandaged my wounds and gave a murky, purple-brown, syrup. I tried some but it was very bitter, the shaman urged me to drink and would not take no for an answer. I drank it to get it over with and afterward drank much water to remove the taste from my mouth. The man made me lie in a bed made of some sort of grass; after sleeping in the jungle even a rudimentary bed was extremely appreciated.
Soon after lying down a strange feeling came over me. Within I felt completely and utterly changed. I was seeing things that I couldn’t imagine could exist but they looked and felt more real than anything I had ever felt before. The bitter drink he made must have been ayahausca, a drink that shamans use to try and heal emotional trauma through psychedelic experiences. I was walking through the jungle, a jungle ever more complex in sights and sounds than anything I had ever experienced. As I walked small black bugs poured out of the trees and advanced toward me; I could not let these insects touch me. I knew, as if in a dream, that if they touched me I would be forever lost in insanity. As the insects were about to engulf me a lady approached, dressed in green and holding a torch that burned all of the colors of the rainbow. The bugs were repulsed by the purity of the light and scuttled back to their hiding place.
The woman approached and signaled me to follow her. I followed by the light of her torch to the lake where the airplane was, but instead of dead bodies there were only the passengers floating toward the heavens. I realized that I should not mourn the loss of all these people but instead look forward to how I was to assure my family of my wellbeing. I learned that I cannot worry about things in the past but instead only worry about what is happening now and in the future, only looking to the past for reference.
When I came out of the trance I felt extremely nauseated and vomited in a bucket provided by the shaman. I spent the night in that same bed and in the morning decided that I had to somehow figure out a way to communicate that I needed to get to some mass civilization. I went to the largest hut in the village. I tried to communicate with the chief about my situation but he interrupted me by asking if I spoke English. This was very surprising but he explained that Amazonian explorers often visited his tribe and he learned the language to help the explorers navigate the jungle. I explained my predicament and he told me of a small town to the east.
That afternoon a tribesman led me through the jungle to the settlement and there I was left. I asked around and was told of a bus to the capital, Lima, where I could find a way home. When I arrived in Lima I contacted my family and assured them of my wellbeing and told them of what happened. They urged me to come home immediately but I had already decided to stay with the tribe the rest of my scheduled vacation, and perhaps even longer.