AyaKambo Plant & Animal Spirit Work (est. 2012)

I do not own the tradition — I answer to it. Armin Raso

AyaKambo is a contemporary field of plant and animal spirit work rooted in Amazonian frog medicine and allied plant teachers in direct contact with the mechanics of transformation.

It exists to honour the custodians of these medicines, correct confusion where it has spread, and hold a clear, safe container for genuine transformation.

I founded AyaKambo in 2012 and carried the work intensively until 2017. During those years, it became a reference point in the German-speaking sphere for Kambô held with discipline, safety-consciousness, and respect for tradition. After 2017, I chose to pause the public work for nine years. That pause was intentional: the field needed to mature, be audited, and be restructured—less identity, more responsibility; less scene, more stewardship; less talking, more clarity.

From the beginning, my orientation was aligned with the caboclo lineages in Brazil, which historically carried forest knowledge into urban contexts while keeping the distinction between worlds intact. AyaKambo grew in that same spirit: rooted in traditional context, carefully adapted for contemporary life, with preservation of lineage as a priority rather than an aesthetic.

The work is research-led. Over the documented years, I have accompanied close to 2,000 individual frog-medicine processes. More important than the number is what repetition teaches: that real clarity does not come from theory, but from consequence—observing how fasting, ritual structure, precise language, and contact with non-ordinary intelligence shape people over time.

In its evolved form, AyaKambo has become inseparable from disciplined dry fasting. Fasting is used as a body-honest threshold that strengthens the link between body and soul, reveals dependencies, and makes the inner terrain readable. Alongside this, my focus has moved from “doing Kambô” as a technique to tending the relationship with Kampū—the archetypal Frog Spirit—and to the ethics of discretion in a landscape where misuse has become widespread.

A parallel strand that has stepped forward is the work with Harmal, a soothsayer plant of the Orient. After years of research, Harmal has taken its place in the AyaKambo field not as an accessory, but as a guardian of mind and speech—a way of confronting illusion, refining intention, and learning inner censorship before words become action.

AyaKambo is now held under an explicit Acknowledgement of Traditional Custodianship. This is not symbolic language; it shapes how the work is offered, how reciprocity is handled, and where boundaries are drawn. I do not regard myself as the owner of these medicines, but as a contemporary carrier who is accountable to tradition, ecology, and community.

Today, AyaKambo is carried in retreat and circle formats that integrate indigenous medicines only where lawful, ethically sourced, and genuinely suitable for the person. The frame is clean and simple: transpersonal, initiatory, and responsibility-based. If you are seeking spectacle or spiritual consumption, this work will not resonate. If you are seeking a serious threshold space where your intent, your shadow, and your life architecture can be met with clarity, then we can explore together whether AyaKambo is the right field for you.

My commitment is clear: I do not own this medicine; I answer to it. The task is to keep the work clean, researched, and worthy of what it touches—loyal to the roots while refusing exploitation as the price of visibility.


AyaKambo Plant & Animal Spirit Work by Armin Raso


AyaKambo is a living body of work that I founded in 2012 and carried intensely through 2017, then paused the public work for nine years because my relationship to it had to mature, be audited, and be restructured: less identity, more responsibility; less scene, more stewardship; less talking, more clarity. In my own initiation journey, I always remained discerning, yet I still engaged with certain Western interpretations that I later recognised as misaligned and unsustainable. Witnessing the consequences of these distortions made it clear that the record must be corrected.

The orientation was strongly aligned with the caboclo work—because caboclo lineages historically carried indigenous knowledge into Brazil’s urban contexts, creating an interface between worlds without pretending those worlds are the same. AyaKambo was built in that spirit: traditional context, contemporary adaptation—with the preservation of tradition as a priority. In 2013, I travelled to Brazil and strengthened my relationship to the cultural and ethical realities behind these medicines. I became an active sponsor supporting the association Tribo Nhandeara in Pará, Brazil, contributing to the continuity of work by ayahuasqueros locally.

AyaKambo is research-led—the lived discipline of observing what actually happens in human beings when you introduce fasting, ritual structure, precise language, and contact with non-ordinary intelligence—and track the consequences over years. That research stance is also why I paused the project in 2017. The pause was not abandonment; it was containment. In the documented materials across the full arc of the project, my own records place the number close to 1700 individual Kambô-applications with participants. What matters here is not the statistic. What matters is the weight of repetition: you don’t arrive at clarity by theory—you arrive there by consequence, by pattern recognition, by the sober humility that only practice can teach; guided by the principle that tradition is not a costume, but a responsibility.

In the meanwhile AyaKambo has also become inseparable from disciplined dry fasting: the fasting container is used as a practical, body-honest threshold: strengthening the body–soul link, revealing dependencies, and making the inner terrain readable. If you are considering engagement, understand this: AyaKambo is not about consumption. It is about consecration. You don’t “take” the medicine. You enter a relationship with a lineage, an ecology, and a responsibility—and I will treat your involvement with such dedication.

At the same time, I want to be exact with language: “archetypal frog intelligence” is not identical with “doing Kambô.” The frog has a field. The frog has an intelligence. The frog has consequences. My work has increasingly moved toward refinement of the relationship with Kampū—the frog spirit—and toward the ethics of discretion, precisely because misuse has become so widespread.

One allied strand that was already present in the early work and has now become central is the soothsayer plant of the Orient, Harmal. I had already been researching Harmala since 2013 and that its presence has emerged with particular force in my ceremonial context is part of what makes the renewed AyaKambo field no longer built only on the power of the frog application and the catharsis of purification. It is built stronger on ongoing plant teaching, sober spiritual intelligence, and a contemporary transpersonal frame that can actually hold what is revealed. The Harmal strand is approached as a guardian practice of mind and speech—a way of confronting illusion, refining intention, and learning inner censorship before words become actions.

 These Traditions are not “products.” They are transmitted cultural technologies, and their movement into other cultures demands restraint. So, AyaKambo now operates explicitly under what I call an Acknowledgement of Traditional Custodianship—adapted in spirit from the Australian practice of acknowledging Traditional Owners of the Country, but applied here to the medicine itself:

I acknowledge the Indigenous and traditional guardians whose knowledge, ecology, and ceremonial intelligence carried these medicines across time. I acknowledge the caboclo-bridge and the living communities in Brazil who safeguarded and contextualized this work. I acknowledge that I am not the “owner” of this medicine—only a responsible carrier of a contemporary application, accountable to tradition, reciprocity, and protection. I commit to avoiding extraction, spectacle, and commercialization, and to ensuring that access to this work is governed by maturity, safety, and ethical alignment.

This acknowledgement is not symbolic. It governs how I work. AyaKambo is spiritual guardianship: A selection process for the work is central—not because I am trying to be exclusive as a brand—but because not everybody who is curious is actually suitable.

I’m explicit about ethics and selection, because the medicine deserves protection, and  AyaKambo does not sell salvation, and it does not perform “healing” as a product. In the framework of this work, I do not make medical diagnoses or give healing promises. The medicine is powerful, and power demands competence: it is not something to experiment with alone or casually with friends—ever. I screen carefully, I reserve the right to decline participation, and I require honesty about health history and medication—not as bureaucracy, but as respect. Certain conditions are non-negotiable exclusions (including pregnancy/breastfeeding and serious cardiovascular issues). The same sobriety applies to Harmal: psychiatric medication and depression treatment belong in the hands of medical specialists, and any overlap with this work requires strict discernment.

The renewed AyaKambo work is carried in retreat and circle formats that integrate indigenous medicine only where lawful, ethically sourced, and appropriate for the person, with a clear stance against reckless mixing and against “experimental” use. The framing remains clean: this is transpersonal, initiatory, and responsibility-based. If you are seeking a miracle vendor, AyaKambo is not for you. If you are seeking a serious threshold space—where your own intent becomes visible, where your self-deception becomes audible, where your life architecture can be re-formed—then you may be a fit.

My stance is simple: I don’t “own” this medicine—I answer to it. My role is to keep the work clean, researched, and worthy of what it touches: a contemporary continuation that stays loyal to the roots, while refusing exploitation as a price of success.