thefutureisred

Coca Leaf Tea Done Laid Me Low

I should have known better. I'm the tea guru, right?

Last week, we had unexpected Couchsurfers stop by the house. Javier, Noemi, Michal and Jan. From Argentina, Quebec, Poland and Belgium, respectively.  They spent the night. We cooked curry and chapatis together and stayed up really late talking. So by Friday night, when it was time to go out in celebration of Michal's 30th birthday, I was exhausted.

The Schedule Went As Follows

10pm: "I'll brew up some coca leaf tea," suggests Michal. "That'll wake us up!" And so he did. A pot full of strong, deep green and overly sweetened stuff that made my tongue cramp and stomach lurch on first sip.

But I was tired, and this is Argentina. The clubs don't even bother opening until 1am. So, when the first cup didn't do much of anything, I went for cup number two. My lips and gums were a'tingling as we approached Balcarce Street. 

Midnight: Then, what's a birthday celebration without a toast? Of course, when the waitress at Rana Burger tells you there's a two for one promotion on liter bottles of Quilmes, you don't think to say no.

4am: We're neck deep in thump, thumping reggaeton at Club XX1. It feels like my head is going to pop off, but still, we danced.

8am. Lila is awake and wanting breakfast. I get up, feeling fine and make her french toast. I'm trying to use up as much food as possible in the house before we move later this month, and we have a lot of beans, peas, lentils sitting around. I decide to make soup.

10am: "I'm not feeling so good," I tell Noah who is still sleeping. "Do you mind hanging out with Lila for a bit while I lie down." I remind him of the soup. It should be ready in time for lunch.

A Cup of Water, A Wet Towel & Hair Band

The following 48 hours mash into one long, painful blur. All I remember with extreme clarity is feeling sicker than I've ever felt in my life. My head pounded. I was sure the slightest movement would cause the top of my head to burst right off. My stomach gyrated as if trying to muscle its way back to the dance floor.

My bare necessities? A cup of water that Noah graciously refilled for me throughout the day. A wet towel to put on my forehead and a hair band to grab quickly before I ran back to the toilet to vomit again. I couldn't even keep water down, but needed something in my stomach. The worst part was the sickly, sweet aroma of coca seeping from my pores. The smell alone sent me retching back to the bathroom.

I kept thinking of all those ayahuasca journeys in which people describe the most horrific reactions, expelling liquids and solids from every possible orifice. Yet they still claim their trip as the most overwhelmingly positive spiritual experiences of their lives.

Was it spiritual? No. Not really. Spiritual redemption was just a tiny carrot, a golden hope, some little way of trying to convince myself that all of this would ultimately be worth it. 

By Monday morning, I was out of bed again and nibbling on dry toast having learned an important lesson. Never again will I treat coca leaf with such disrespect. 

It Doesn't Do Much For Me

I hear this from many people. Perhaps that's because they are drinking the kind from tea bags or they don't drink enough. But we were using relatively fresh leaves which were steeped in hot water for a few hours.

Or maybe they are smart enough to listen to their body's when they say, enough, don't drink anymore. 

I've often been able to determine that an herb -- tincture or tea -- was the right or wrong one to take based on my taste response. Do I like the flavor? Am I repulsed by it? That's often a good indication of what your body needs. 

All the signs were there. My stomach had an uncomfortable reaction to the first sip, and I hated the taste. I stupidly ignored what my mouth, tongue and stomach told me.

Too Much Of A Good Thing Takes You In the Opposite Direction

Coca leaf is meant to stimulate your stomach. It's also a mild sedative. Thus, I had too much and found myself both painfully overstimulated while dreadfully sedated. 

Herbs are all about finding balance. That's why I tend towards herbs like chamomile and red raspberry leaf that are dual modulators. They help bring you back to the center. These are also very gentle herbs and you'd be hard pressed to over do.

Coca leaf has much stronger properties. The alkaloid tropane can be poisonous in too high doses, and is the active constituent in cocaine (but only if highly treated. Coca leaf is not cocaine.)

Am I Warning You Not To Take Or Try Coca Leaf?

Lord, no. That would be like saying not to wear shoes because some idiot decided to wear her's without tying the laces and then fell when they got stuck in an escalator.

But use it with respect. If you have a bad headache or nausea. If you're suffering from altitude sickness or to perk you up if you are extremely tired but have no choice but to keep working, particularly physical work. Coca leaf can also be used to blunt symptoms of withdrawal. It's not meant as a casual pick me up before going out dancing and certainly shouldn't be mixed with alcohol or other substances, depressants or stimulants.

Learning By Trial & Error

I've always been my own guinea pig when experimenting with herbal medicines. Normally, I'm more cautious, take things more slowly. I test a little of an herbal preparation and see how I feel before downing more. 

I should have known better. It's a mistake I'll never make again (probably.)

Photo Credit: A huge thank you to photographer, videographer and 3x Emmy winner JD Andrews of EarthXplorer for allowing me to use his coca leaf photo. He took it while on a recent trip to Peru where he drank and enjoyed coca tea without incident.

Photo of the Day: These Are the Ants that Ate My Thyme!

This summer, I bought herbs and flowers from the Salta Municipal Market on Calle Urquiza, corner of Itzaingo. Rosemary, basil, locuto peppers, thyme and lavender. The ants ate all but the rosemary and lavender.

Marigolds, I've been told, are the plants you plant around the edges of your garden to repel pests like ants. Those damn ants -- at least four different species -- not only ate them, they dismantled the flowers, petal by petal, leaf by leaf leaving nothing but sticks.

I don't want to use poison in our garden for many reasons, not least of which we have a puppy and a 6 year old running around, playing. But also, I use the plants and leaves for cooking and to prepare herbal preparations for everything from headaches to facial washes to rashes.

Internet research suggested trying lemon, hot pepper powder, salt and hot water. I tried each one separately and together. All I got was a bunch of plants that looks more like a roast than an herb garden.

Autumn arrived and the ants went underground. We stopped seeing them in the house, and my rosemary, lavender and mint -- a present from a friend, thrived. With renewed hope, I bought more thyme.

Then today, I watered the plants. Within minutes, a swarm of ants crawled from the thyme pot, all carrying eggs.

I'm not sure if I'm in awe or if I want to wage war against them. War, though, doesn't seem like much of an option. I'm hopelessly outnumbered.

And if anyone has any non-toxic solutions, please, please let me know.

Photo Essay: Bathe the Rejuvenating Waters of Argentine History

This past weekend, we took my parents to the Hotel Termas in Rosario de la Frontera. It lies about half-way on Ruta 34 between Tucuman and Salta. The website makes it look absolutely spectacular. Lush grounds, beautiful interior with thermal waters, a spa menu full of luxurious treatments and a restaurant that comes highly recommended.

The reality of the place is a bit different. That is not to say it's not a place worth visiting. In fact, this hotel and spa lets you take a step back in time about 100 years, when a sanitarium was a place where the rich went to rest and relax and not just for the insane.

As we drove in the front gate, my mother asks somewhat reluctantly, "Is it me? Or does this look a lot like an old age home?" We all had to agree. Yes, Hotel Termas appears very much as convalescent home meets T. Coraghessan Boyle's The Road to Wellville meets The Shining.

I know, I know. I'm not making this place sound very appealing, just bear with me. This place plays a part of history. Built in 1880, when visionary Antonio Palau realized the therapeutic nature of hot waters found underground. Since then, the termas have been a place for Argentine writers, celebrities and politicians to escape and rejuvenate.

Above you see the entrance to the hotel building. Behind the hotel lies a separate building holding the spa, comedor, baths and an outdoor pool filled with the warm thermal waters.

This photo of Dr Palau hangs in the front part of the spa building.

I originally hoped to spend the night in the hotel, then we could spend a full day taking advantage of the services the spa and baths offered. Unfortunately, the hotel itself was fully booked for the entire time my parents would be here.

Thus, we decided to drive the 175 kilometers to the spa from Salta for the day. The road between Salta and Tucuman is a main route and well paved, so the ride lasts approximately one and a half hours. We arrived just as lunch hours began.

Noah had heard rave reviews of the food at this lunch room. And really, it wasn't bad at all. The menu offers standard Argentine cuisine: lomo, empadanas, bife de chorizo. Noah ordered lomo that comes with a tomato-onion sauce and a fried egg on top. Not a combo that comes easily to the American palate, but try it before you knock it. It's heavy, but really good.

Then onto the bath and spa.

Unfortunately, the spa closed for siesta after lunch, so we contented ourselves with a walk through the facilities, ending with a fifteen minute immersion bath in their boiling, yet healing waters.

The upstairs level houses a gymnasium that looks down onto an outdoor pool. Water comes directly from the heated waters below ground as well. Notice the crack in the window? The gymnasium itself isn't much different, but it's fascinating to see the original window frames, tile and walls of the building.

Lower level, behind the bath you'll find this old area where people once enjoyed immersion soaks and mud baths. These days, the area is under construction but you still pass through to go to the showers and change rooms. Those three jugs in front offer mineral water for every occasion. Laxative. Constitution. And I never did find out what zarza -- or blackberry -- water will do for you.

Any thoughts? Please let me know.

Voila! The main bath hall. My parents almost bailed (ie run away as fast as possible) when they first saw those back rooms. It's not entirely well signed, so we thought that was the bath area. Yes, this still looks quite hospital-like, but it was a relief to realize this is where we would find our relaxation and rejuvenation and not the crumbling back area filled with concrete bags.


This is the bath in which you soak. Well, some of them anyway. Many of the tubs have already been replaced with new, cleaner more modern options, but a few originate from the late 1800s.

You soak for fifteen minutes in the tub, during which an attendant returns to add more hot water. Afterward, you lie under blankets for another fifteen to relax. I fell asleep.

Like I said, the place is not your every day spa-filled luxury, but I'm glad we went. I'm not sure how much longer you'll have the opportunity to see this little piece of Argentine history in its current state. Oh, and if you're wondering, the bath itself was quite wonderful. It relaxed me for the rest of the day, and I fell asleep early that night.

Renovations have already begun, after which the plan is to begin publicizing the bath house.  I'm betting the old, bath house, am-I-in-a-hospital feeling will soon fade and be replaced with something far more sleek and new, which is fine, if that's your thing.

Otherwise, if you're driving route 34 -- also ruta 9 in this part of the country -- slow down and take a look.

Everything I Learned About Packing, I Learned From Grandma Ruth

If you enjoyed this post and want to read more subscribe to my feed in your preferred reader. Or if you'd prefer to have posts e-mailed to you directly, subscribe to my RSS e-mail list.

* * *

Grandma Ruth, the consummate world traveler, could never stay put. She jumped a bus to Chicago to join the communist revolution when was was still a teen, went back to nursing school in her forties and never hesitated to hop in the car to drive twenty hours across country just because. Even in her last years, when everyone, her kids, grand kids, doctors, everyone warned her not to fly, she ignored us all so she could see New Zealand.

She was just that kind of woman.

I learned a lot from her. How to pass the wind in mahjohg. How to make potato latkes – ahh latkes -- and home made pickles. How to get a good deal on just about anything. And of course, I learned how to pack a suitcase.

That I never listened to her is another thing. I tried my own way for years, but now, on the eve of yet another pack up and move (more on that soon), I’m finally taking her advice.

Pack Early and Often

We always knew Grandma and Grandpa were going on vacation because their suitcase stood already packed near the door of their bedroom for about two weeks before the departure date.

They laid everything out, arranged it just so. Made choices, took out what they didn’t need, and then, they were done. If at the end, they thought of something extra, there was space left to pack it, and always enough room for the gifts they inevitably brought back.

I am the opposite. You'll find me panicking in the early morning hours before our bus or flight is to leave, and my bags are too often close to bursting. I doubt I'll ever be the type to be ready weeks or even days before I go, but I have made a concerted effort to begin at least a couple days earlier than usual.

Know the Difference Between What You Want and What You Need

How many late nights have I spent surrounded by piles of things wondering how the hell I was ever going to get everything to fit? That’s when eventually it dawns on me. Choices must be made.

Need is relatively different for everyone, but most must-have lists will include passport, electronic or paper ticket, money, toothbrush and paste, underwear. Pants and shoes for walking and hiking. Soap. This ensures the basics of of staying clean and comfortable. Then, you think weather. Do you need a bathing suit or a coat and gloves?. Are you working or blogging? Then you may need a camera or computer.

I also include tea tree oil because its antifungal, antibacterial and anti-louse. I cannot tell you how many times this has been useful. Lavender, too, can come in very handy for the same things.

Beyond that, you’re getting into wants. Nothing wrong with wanting as long as you're willing to lug it.

Here is a small collection of packing advice gathered from other travel bloggers:

• Uncornered Market lists all the clothing and everything they need to travel the world, from Thailand and Malaysia to Central America.
• Or Nomadic Matt's ideas for the electronics you bring along on your trip
  
• Soultravelers3 offers tips for being a traveling fashionista.
• And finally, a universal packing list from Travellious that includes the ever lovely handy packing calculator.

Ziplock Bags Are Your Best Friend

There’s something magical about a Ziploc. Somehow you can fit more into the same suitcase when each individual item has been placed in one. While the laws of physics seem to defy this, it is undeniably true. And if something spills, the rest of your stuff is protected.

While Grandma and Grandpa put everything that would fit in a Ziploc in a Ziploc, I use them for those things I want to keep together. This little photo here to the right shows a week-and-a-half supply of both mine and Lila’s underwear, all clothing for running in warm to cool weather, both our bathing suits and Lila’s socks. It also keeps them in easy reach of the top of the suitcase.

I’ve also used those vacuum pack bags, the ones like giant Ziplocs that you can just roll the air out, close and go. One caveat: Use too many and your pack becomes surprisingly heavy.

You Can Buy What You Need When You Get There

Clothing, extra underwear, a warm sweater are very possibly cheap and easier to find after you arrive at your destination. For instance, why not buy a handmade llama sweater and gloves when visiting the Andes. It’s soft comfortable and designed specifically to keep people warm in that part of the world. Bathing suits on the Cote d’Azur? Mine was 10 euros. 

You Can’t Buy Everything You Need When You Get There

Noah has a size 14 foot. You cannot find shoes in his size anywhere in France, Italy, Panama or Costa Rica. We have yet to find them in Argentina. Noah’s shoes are enormous, but we make room for whatever he may need because they are not easily replaceable.

Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Charles had a list of medications they needed to take daily. While prescriptions are often cheaper in other countries, I personally wouldn't risk not finding what I need when I need it.

Ok, so this contradicts my previous Grandma Ruth lesson. The key is to do a bit of research before you go. My best advice for this sort of research is to talk to other travelers. Again, Trip Advisor, Couchsurfing, your basic Google search. There's also Travel Blog Exchange -- creation of Kim Mance of GoGalavanting and Debbie Dubrow of Delicious Baby -- where you can find links to and advice from hundreds of travel bloggers.

You Don’t Need As Many Pairs of Pants As You Think

We all teased Grandma Ruth because she was happy to wear the same clothing day after day. Laugh as you will, I think her mindset was always that of someone who wanted to be free to move around. She never wanted extra baggage.

It’s a choice, take those three pairs of jeans and two shorts. Pack two sweaters for fashion, and all the nail polish colors you want. I know, each item is small, doesn’t seem like a big deal, but somehow they add up quickly.

If you leave behind what you don’t really need, you’ll find quite a bit of freedom to move in return. And yes, feel free to take that as a metaphor for life as well. Because travel is about exploring the world outside your daily life, experiencing the new and expanding your world to include other people, countries and places.

What, then, becomes important to bring along in your bags?

Photo courtesy of David Master's Flickrstream

* * *

If you enjoyed this post and want to read more subscribe to my feed in your preferred reader. Or if you'd prefer to have posts e-mailed to you directly, subscribe to my RSS e-mail list.

I'm Breakin' Open A Big Can of Assy!

 

Guess what I got!

Lucky me. I found a couple of these little buggers running around the crown of my head. Yep. Lice. Also known here in Argentina as piojos.

Here's what I learned about lice. If you find and catch an adult, it means there are probably many, many more you cannot see. It also means, the entire family has to be treated. Oh yes, Jen is visiting, so she has to be treated too. Oh what a joy of an evening this has been!

Luckily, though, no one else seems to have anything running, biting or laying eggs among their locks. I am the only member of the household to be what the Center for Disease Control recommendations for treating lice terms an "actively infected individual." Apparently, my long, curly luxurious hair is just what every louse wants.

Luckily, also, I knew exactly what I needed. All I needed was a little bit of ASSY!. Yes, ASSY! I first found ASSY in the supermarket in Buenos Aires. The can of ASSY ESPUMA you see pictured here was originally destined to join my little collection of odd and funny products like Bag Balm from New Hampshire, Cock Soup from St Croix and Fish Paste with Bloaters from South Africa.

Turns out life and destiny had other plans.

The reality is lice are often a part of traveling. Lila's in school, and kids transfer lice one to the other. It's also highly possible I got mine trying on hats in San Pedro de Atacama or from a haircut in Salta last month.

Last time I had piojos -- I like saying it in Spanish, because it somehow sounds better -- was Israel. The local makolet had a treatment product which required I soak my hair in this toxic sludge then cover with a plastic bag and sit for 3 hours. Three very long hours.

And because you also have to wash all bed linens, recently worn clothes and the like, all I had available to wear was a bathing suit. It was just then that I and my apartment mates, who were also treated for piojos, decided we might as well clean the entire apartment. So somewhere out there is a picture of my 17-year-old self in a bathing suit, head wrapped in a plastic shopping bag with a knife in one hand, hairdryer in the other as I attempt to defrost a very well frozen freezer.

Giving more thanks, somewhere between post-high school Israel and present day Argentina, there have been great strides in the treatment of piojos. Most times, you need only wash your hair once and leave it sit for ten minutes. You can also find non-toxic treatments deemed safe for children.

The tedious part, though, is combing out the nits. You'll find and use an unbelievably fine toothed comb and must search thoroughly and carefully every two or so days until you are absolutely sure all piojos and eggs are gone. 

I'll have you know, with the amount and thickness of my hair, this process takes approximately two hours. Two. Full. Hours. Of. Nit. Picking.

It's also good to keep in mind that there are some non-toxic herbal methods available for piojos treatment. Tea tree oil and lavender essential oils, in particular. Tea tree oil repels the adults, kills the eggs and will help eliminate any infections caused by scratching. Lavender serves a similar purpose, but also helps soothe itching and heal bites. They work well and can be happily, non-poisonously used every day on wet or dry hair. Even with these treatments, though, you still have to comb.

I carry both oils in my travel medicine kit. Generally for other purposes, but who knew my two favorite oils would come in so handy. My particular bottle of lavender comes from the amazing Chateau du Bois lavender fields in Provence. These fields lie between Rousillon and Gordes, two fabulously beautiful cities each built out of the rock found where the cities are built. Rousillon, a striking ochre. Or the beautiful light pink of Gordes that deepens to orange then transforms to grey, yellow or white as the sun's fancy strikes.

So yes, keep that beautiful image in your minds as you try to keep from scratching your heads. Don't worry, though, chances are you don't have anything. At least, I'm pretty sure you didn't get it from me.

UPDATE 8.13.09: I managed to get my hands on some cinnamon and tea tree essential oils, both of which are extremely effective in managing and ridding yourself of lice. Best way to apply? Mix a solution of half apple cider or white vinegar and half warm water, then add 5 drops of whichever oil you prefer. Or both. Then apply to hair until wet all over, wrap up in a plastic bag and let sit for as long as you can. I usually go for an hour or two. Then wash, rinse, condition and comb out with a lice comb.

Keep in mind that they the oils can be irritating, especially the cinnamon oil, so don't apply them without diluting them first.