I don't know many of the details of the history of kava, but I do know that it has been commonly used in traditional ceremonies for a long time in Vanuatu. Back then, it was the drink of chiefs. It was made only on special occasions, such as a gathering of village chiefs, and only the chiefs, and perhaps a few others important in their respective communities, were permitted to drink, and even then only one shell (so called for the half of a coconut shell in which it is traditionally served). Today, kava has fallen from this noble role and now serves as a very literal opiate of the masses. The story goes that when Vanuatu first gained independence, there was a big problem with crime related to alcohol abuse. To combat this, and perhaps make a little money in the process, someone suggested that Ni-Vanuatu forgo the evil of the “white man drink” and instead return to the custom of drinking kava. Almost overnight, hundreds of kava bars (also called nakamals, although this name is not entirely appropriate, as a nakamal simply means a gathering place and does not, necessarily, imply that kava is served there) sprung up around Port Vila, the capital, and the trend soon spread across the country. Kava has the advantage of being made locally, and thus is significantly cheaper than alcohol. Additionally, it is a depressant, so those drunk on the brew are spectacularly docile and not prone to causing trouble.
Kava is made from the roots of a plant distantly related to the pepper, which takes three to five years in order to mature sufficiently to be used in the making of the drink. When the roots come out of the ground, they look like giant, wooden squid: a central body with lots of trailing tendrils. The first step is cleaning the root, removing the wooden exterior and any dirt to reveal the faintly yellow-ish flesh underneath. This is then chopped into small pieces, which have to be somehow ground into a pulp. The custom way of doing this is to round up the pre-pubescent boys of the village and have them chew it to a pulp and then spit the resulting mush onto banana leaves. Although this is still done, most notably on the island of Tanna, the more modern kava maker might use an electric meat grinder. A number of additional methods exist, including grinding it with rocks and pounding it with wooden poles. Many Ni-Vanuatu claim that the chosen method of grinding has an enormous effect on the taste and strength of the resulting drink, but there's so much superstition that surrounds kava as a whole that it's difficult to separate fact from fiction. Personally, I've tasted kava ground in both electric and hand grinders and pounded kava and have not been able to notice much of a difference.
Once the kava is pulped, water is added and the pulp squeezed by hand to extract the juice. At this point, the kava is ready to drink, but most prefer to clean it first, by filtering it through a cloth to remove the sediment. Finished kava looks like a river after a hard rain: water churned with mud and silt from the banks. It's smell calls to mind the oder of grass clippings from a freshly mowed lawn. It tastes a lot like it smells (ie. like eating grass), and a strong batch of kava will leave your lips and tongue numb and tingling for a few minutes after drinking. Kava has a reputation for being more or less the worst thing anyone will ever taste, but I don't think this is quite true. Granted, it does taste pretty bad, but I think most people will experience worse-tasting things in their lives. What really gets me is the anticipation of drinking kava. Every shell I drink makes futures shells all that more difficult to get down as my body tries, more and more forcefully, to rebel against my mind's choice of beverages. When I fist arrived in Vanuatu, I was able to down four or five bowls without much hesitation, but now each shell must be proceeded by a few minutes of meditation, soul searching, and mental preparation. When drinking kava, it is advisable to down your entire serving in one go, as fast as you possibly can. For this reason, it's much nicer to drink kava out of a bowl (or coconut shell), as opposed to a cup, as it allows you to drink it faster. Should you pause, hesitate, or stop mid-drink, you're finished, as the odds are small that you'll be able to continue drinking after such a disturbance. Some Ni-Vanuatu, when confronted with a larger shell than they're interested in drinking, will allow some of the kava to spill out around their lips and dribble down their chin onto the ground. I, personally, try to avoid this practice, as I want as little of my body smelling of kava as possible. The pleasure of drinking kava does not end once your bowl is empty, as it has a strong aftertaste that is persistent and lingering. It doggedly clings to your tongue and throat and no amount of water (thoughtfully provided at most kava bars) can cleanse it. Thus, loud, violent, and vigorous hacking and spitting are an ever present part of the kava bar experience. The only really effective way to remove the kava aftertaste from one's mouth is by eating a small amount of food. The nicer kava bars will sell a variety snacks for this purpose, called “wasemaot” (wash-em'-out). Rich, strong-tasting foods are the best for this. My favorite wasemaots are fish, meat, and chocolate, but these are rarely available for sale at kava bars, so I usually have to bring my own. More common offerings include bananas, papaya, some kind of bread, lap-lap, and shellfish.
“Yu harem kava?” is the question you'll get asked after drinking a shell or two. It literally means “do you hear the kava?” (there's also the much less poetic “yu drunk long kava?” -- “are you drunk on kava?”). The kava drunk is very relaxing (sometimes too relaxing, drink too much and it will put you right to sleep);b it brings about a feeling similar to settling into a deep and comfortable armchair after a long day's work and knowing that you won't be required to move for many hours. It doesn't cloud your head like an alcohol buzz does. Many Ni-Vanuatu claim that it makes you think more clearly, and a refined version of it is actually sold as an herbal supplement in the US, advertising similar effects, but I think this is stretching a little bit. Personally, I wouldn't want to make any important decisions while under its influence. What is true is that it makes you prone to getting lost in your own thoughts, and conversations between patrons of a kava bar tend to be brief and punctuated by long pauses as people slip in and out of their own worlds. More concrete, physical effects include an increased sensitivity to light and sound, thus necessitating that kava bars be kept dark and voices low. It is an appetite suppressant, and frequent kava drinkers are distinctively thin. Similar to alcohol, it degrades motor skills, so those with four or five shells under their belts will walk with a distinctive stagger, similar to a drunk, but their speech will be surprisingly lucid. It is also sleep-inducing and produces very deep and sound sleep, an effect that sometimes carries over to the next morning, leaving one lazy and lethargic. Finally, excessive kava drinking will lead to nausea and vomiting.
Much custom and mystique surrounds kava in Vanuatu. Traditionally, the kava experience is something strictly belonging to men, and women are not permitted to partake in any aspect of it, from the preparation to the actual drinking. Most drastically, women walking in sight of a nakamal were stoned and any kava that was already made was considered tainted and thrown out. Although such practices persist in the more remote parts of the country, for the most part capitalism has taken over and kava bars will serve kava to anyone who can pay for it. Even so, many Ni-Vanuatu women are still hesitant to enter a nakamal and, if they drink kava at all, will usually have someone else fill up a plastic bottle for them and bring it back to their house.
Nowadays, kava plays an important social role in Vanuatu. Much like a bar in the US, a nakamal provides an important venue for socializing. A lot of Ni-Vanuatu friends that I've made here are people that I first encountered at the nakamal. A lot of business and personal deals are also made over a few shells of kava. It's wise to buy shells for anyone you'd like to do favors for you (ie. buy a shell for the post man for faster service in the post office, or a shell for a truck driver to ensure free rides), or you can buy kava for someone you've wronged as an apology. Drinking a shell together can signify the end of an argument or dispute between two people. On Efate, I heard of a tradition in which two people in a conflict will each drink a shell while facing the setting sun, thus signifying that their grievances with each other would be over with the end of the day.
A number of guidelines describe how one should best enjoy (or perhaps tolerate is aetter choice of word, depending on your point of view) kava, the most common of which is that it should only be drunk on an empty stomach. Kava is usually served at sundown, before dinner, and some people take the more extreme stance of refusing to eat anything after noon in preparation. Others just generally try to avoid afternoon snacks. The thinking is that having a full stomach prevents you from feeling the effects of kava, but I don't think this is entirely true. Certainly, not eating beforehand will heighten the effects of kava, but I've definitely gone to the nakamal shortly after a fairly large meal and still been able to feel the kava. Everyone I've talked to has their own advice to offer on how to enhance the kava experience. Some claim that standing and walking around improves their drunk, while others swear by sitting still. Some say it's better to eat hot food after kava, some say cold. Some liking watching movies, while some say this is the worst thing you could possibly do. I've heard that excessive spitting will prevent you from becoming as drunk, that chewing on sugar cane will sober you up, and that drinking soda will make you more drunk. In my opinion, most of these claims are bogus. What is true, however, is that Ni-Vanuatu take kava very seriously and everyone has their own, personal, ceremony that surrounds it. Myself, I like to take a few moments to look at the stars before drinking each shell and spend most of the time sitting down with a nice view of either the sky or the ocean (or both). Ideally, I'd have a cold beer to go along with my kava but, this being Vanuatu, which is short on both cold and beer, that doesn't often happen.
No comments:
Post a Comment