Carrying back kava from garden

The last light of day descends upon this slothful village of Sola. Brilliant shadows are cast over the dusty road as the sun sets. The clouds are illuminated in glorious reds and gold’s, pulling a curtain over another day here in the forgotten province in Vanuatu. Nonchalantly the people from the local gardens high up in the bush and the workers at the provincial government make their way back home. Darkness has fallen and with no electricity to the village we are fortunate when there is the presence of the moon.

 I arrive back home after being in the office for too long, the mosquitoes and lack of light always hurry me out which is convenient . I do not turn on the generator as I shall not stay long at home and suffice with the dim light from the solar panels that powers the bulb in both my bedroom and bathroom. I fetch myself a bucket full of fresh water from the rain tank on the porch and carry it inside for a wash, consciously turning the corner in the house slowly so as not to slip and pour a fully laden bucket of water onto the ground, as so many times I have learnt, although it does induce a good spring clean!

The floor of the wash room has crawling larvae, fastidious as I am I slip on my flip flops so as not to step on them. I douse my body with the cold water. It is usually refreshing but today I so wish I could have hot water in an instant…

After cover my body in insect repellent I get dressed and gather the necessaries for the evening, which includes a torch, mosquito repellent, water, umbrella and “wass maot” (wash mouth – snacks to clear the palate, which are usually sugary breakfast crackers imported from china, pawpaw fruit or kamala if you are lucky to have fresh food!).

Back out on the road in the darkness the twinkling red and white lights (makeshift lanterns from torches & bicycle lamps) of the Nakamals line the streets enticing this transgressive archaic behaviour that is now such a fundamental part of (my) daily life here in Vanuatu…

Scrapped kava & Chopping kava

KAVA

So what is it?

Kava is a plant related to the pepper plant which has been consumed throughout the Pacific Island countries for thousands of years. Previously this narcotic muddy drink was consumed during ceremonies and rituals and by men. Nowadays, Kava is consumed on a daily basis by both men and women (depending on the island, some places kava is strictly prohibited for women) and is a large source of income for many islanders.

Kava is dug up from the ground and only the roots are used, usually a plant will take one year before it is ready for harvesting. The roots look similar to ginger or galangal. Once uprooted the bundle is fastened to a stick and carried back home. Once washed, scrapped and chopped up with a machete the kava can be prepared in many different ways, depending on the custom of the island or village (the more you wash it the “cleaner” it is). The more modern way of preparation is to simply use a meat mincer to grind it. Traditional ways are still being used, especially in more rural areas where there are no such devices. In these circumstances the kava is ground by hand using a strong coral stone (I’ve tried, very painful! Need strong hands!) or rammed in a iron pipe to a mush which makes the kava particularly strong. Lastly and only in certain areas the kava is still being chewed and spat out, usually by young boys as their teeth haven’t fallen out and they have less disease. Unfortunately this starts the addiction at a young age.. appealing? I think not.

Once in a pulp the kava is mixed with clean (hm) water and filtered through the husk of a coconut or some calico and is ready to drink!

Nakamal 

Once night falls the streets are filled with what you think are unfamiliar figures busily shopping, socialise and of course drink kava! Walking along it becomes a game to try and identify the voice with the person as you are continuously greeted in the darkness. You can’t go to the shop without being enticed or hollered into a local watering hole… the nakamal.

Equipped, I walk in the darkness for a while until I can’t quite recall the potholes in the road and turn on my torch. I have two or three Nakamals that I regularly go to, although after 2-3 months the kava plant harvest gets newer and newer and therefore less strong so we all move Nakamals. At the present time I am visiting Lillian’s Nakamal, across the road from the chief’s house. Here it is quiet, close enough to the beach to hear the waves, I turn off my torch so as not to startle the intoxicant kava drinkers (otherwise you’ll hear the angry “awe” and lip smacking tuts). It takes some time to adjust to the darkness, the mumble of voices and the silhouette of the people leads me cautiously to a free space on the uneven wooden bench.  It’s not long before a familiar sonorous voice demands: “Lucy trink!” (Lucy drink). It’s William! an unkempt, hardened kava drinker. 60 something years old going on 100, he is a white bearded eccentric humble soul of the village that you certainly wouldn’t say no to. As my eyes adjust there are all the local faces there surrounding me. I take the kava offered by William and go and join Anna and Yasuko to take my first coconut shell of the evening. We stand in the darkness raising our shells to the day that has passed. We give a small devotion giving thanks and appreciation for being together, asking that the kava gives us a stable mental wellbeing, peace, clarity and positive attitude. “ale gud naet” Each one of us pauses in preparation and hesitantly lifts the full content of the muddy concoction into our mouths. Grimacing we swallow in three quick successive gulps. The bitterness of the kava lines our mouths; habitually we spit the residual onto the ground in front of us and wash our mouth out with water. Slowly we walk back to the rickety bench, wash mouth snacks are passed around the hushed Nakamal and we wait for the effects to kick in.

KAVA

Kava taem!

So… Why am I being lured by this muddy water? Well not much else to do in the evenings with minimal electricity. This mysterious cultivated shrub produces a bitter, aromatic taste it is a resinous brew capable of bringing about a somnolent state, calm and relaxation without disrupting mental clarity. Yasuko (JICA volunteer), Anna (Ni-Vanuatu nurse) and I are the female Sola kava collective, not many other female drinkers around.

The rest of the night we take it in turns buying rounds of kava for people coming and going, quietly sharing stories of the day’s activities in our hushed groups over the repulsive noise of retching and spitting from the ongoing kava drinking. Kava can make people sensitive to noise and light, hence the dark atmosphere. Once the kava at one Nakamal finishes, there is a quick dash (well as quick as you can move, depending on how drunk you are!) to find the next watering hole before the whole village is out. We were wise enough to reserve some kava for the three of us so we can happily sit down, storian, ruminate and just BE!

I feel so privileged to have such close kind friends in this rural environment. They have certainly helped me through a lot in the last year and a half. Once we are down to our last shell we wish each other “ale gud naet wan taem” (good night for the last time) and make our way back home.

Out on the road again, the Nakamal lights have vanished leaving only cool stillness in the air. Complete darkness forbids any sight my surroundings, even you feet as you walk. I drowsily walked my body back home. The stars above are crystal clear in the sky with the Milky Way and Southern Cross in view. I feel calm and content as my consciousness grounds my body back to earth once more. 

Come fly with me the night is young,

Lights fill the street we have just begun,

Darkness is here, we have no fear,

It’s been around for ten thousand years!

Stress brought you down, no need to frown,

Come drink with me in this small town,

May all your worries end in a sip,

As kava kicks with mental licks.

White bearded humble soul doth speak,

Awe! Come, come and taste this treat,

Hazy, crazy custom ways,

Lift up your shell of somnolent days.

Hesitate we wait to appreciate,

My contorted brow, I must drink now,

Mysterious cultivated shrub I ask,

Take away these mental puzzled tasks.

The concoction of this ancestral past,

Meets my lips, I must drink fast,

This resinous brew, once was taboo,

Will surely help and get me through.

Mind rotates, stillness meditates,

Passive slumber states creates,

Body lifts, spirits shift,

Drowsy calm with no alarm.

The night is through, the kava too,

What pleasant ways to drink a few,

Stillness and calm, starry night time charm,

How I love you sacred Vanuatu.