Wednesday, February 26, 2003

Kava

Kava isn’t as addictive to me as caffeine. I’m an occasional Kava drinker, enjoying the atmosphere as much as the effects. But I always feel a nibbling foresight that our days of Kava bars are numbered. Maybe Kava brings on bouts of paranoia?
The procedure for drinking Kava is more ceremonial than what I know of it to tell you about. The parts that I know about include stirring up a huge wooden vat of mud, scooping a portion into a hollow coconut shell, clapping twice very loudly to help all your nerves rise to the surface, and then downing the nasty-tasting stuff before you lose your nerve altogether. At that point you can order a second cupful (the first effect of kava must be a shorting-out of linear logic: ooh, tastes bad, order more.) This cup you sip while your tongue gets really weird. Your lips feel fluffy and your body doesn’t ache as much as it used to, a long time ago. Like fifteen minutes ago.
I was first introduced to kava as a vitamin-like capsule. It did a great job of taking the edge off of high stress situations. Packaged kava has never given me the tongue effects, probably due to the difference in sheer quantity. I have been told that if you drink enough of the stuff, you start to hallucinate. I haven’t been able to get past the flavor thing well enough yet to go on my vision quest.
The weird tongue thing is difficult to describe. It’sth justh that ith ftheels stho muth thicker. And moothsier. Your tongue ends up out there. Whereas it’s a part of human anatomy about which we normally remain happily unaware, with kava a tongue grows to king kong proportion. To talk feels like you need better flight control. But it’s also okay with kava to just sit and listen. In fact, part of the whole ceremony is to have a good talk-story session while you relax.
Nobody gets funnier because of kava, either in their own estimation or yours. That’s a welcome omission. And it’s supposedly okay to drive your car home. Generally, my first kava is also my last when I have some, so I think I’m roadworthy, as long as I don’t need to control the vehicle with my tongue.