Registered: Jul 2000
Location:
Posts: 4501

Hooka!!!

Tonight, I smoked out of a hooka for the first time. Before you scream "pothead," allow me to explain. My friend is from Palestine originally, and recently Jordan. The last time he was home, he brought back a beautifully-decorated hooka. None of us smoke pot; it was a spicy apple tobacco. I did try pot a few times, but hated it.

Hani put a special stem on the end of the tube so I wouldn't get too much smoke at once; when I saw him doing that, I was a little worried. But the smoke was smoother than I could have imagined, like breathing scented air. I didn't think it would have any effect on me, since it didn't seem like "real" tobacco." After about 12 deep puffs, I began to feel more and more content. Not sleepy-stupid like pot makes me feel, but content and still well-aware of my surroundings. I took bigger and bigger puffs each time around, holding each a little longer. Hani made a spiced coffee and sage tea for us to drink along with our smoking experience; we also had these wonderful desserts: delicate pancakes wrapped around either ricotta cheese or a walnut/coconut/nutmeg/sugar/cinnamon mixture, glazed lightly with a sugar-lemon syrup.

I sat in my chair by the window, nibbling on the desserts, drinking the tea, and watching videos of the guys dressed in Middle-East drag. We talked for hours and hours without noticing that more than a few minutes had passed. I pondered getting my own hooka, especially if I ever quit smoking cigarettes. What a sight I'd make, a pale redhead smoking a hooka while hammering desperately on her keyboard. The dogs would probably knock it over anyway, during one of their daily wrestling bouts.

This hooka experience made me think of the importance of ritual; whether it is a gathering around the hooka with friends, or always passing a certain spot on the way home, or always greeting a loved one in the same way, these things all help create reference points for us in our lives. These are simple things we don't always notice; worship services are more obvious examples of ritual. Unfortunately, ritual is often associated with evil or control, because of our conditioning or past experiences with it.

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Deny closure. Honor ambiguity.

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Registered: Sep 2000
Location: London UK
Posts: 567

i understand totally... my aunt married a turkish guy and lived out there for a while...

when i visited i was invited to use a hukka and enjoyed it... sitting at the side of the road... smoking away, drinking coffee. its only when i realised we'd been there about 6 hours instead of 30 mins that i realised what a fucked up "how can i help you" in and out in 10 seconds fast food generation we live in here and in the states.

why cant we try and slow things down again..?

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SPACE CORPS DIRECTIVE 34124:

"No officer with false teeth should attempt oral sex in zero gravity"

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Registered: Jul 2000
Location: Denver
Posts: 1277

I'm just back from some clubbing/rounds of vodka prsently, so forgive any babble or typos.

I borrowed a couple bowls from my ex-girlfriend, so I'm especially verbose and marginally coherent atm.

Last hookah I smoked of was with some buddies in Amarillo Tx several years ago. Some friends had made one out of a 5-gallon water bottle, a cork, and some rubber hose. I was in town picking up my record collection out of storage, and stopped by for a visit. Their band (so-so indierock, damned if I remember the name) played a small warehouse in town that night. A few punx, a vat of jungle juice, and being stuck in BFE make for a memorable eveining. After the show we went back to 'The House' (in a town that size, there can only be one), smoked and watched Ren & Stimpy videos all night. I think we talked about Nietzche and Sonic Boom records in the background, but it's all kind of a blur. I mostly remember hunching over in a circle, grabbing a chunk of hose (there were 6), and sucking thru a triangular survivalist water bottle till a pile of black lungs was stacked in the middle of the garage. There was talk of a midnight roadtrip to Lawrence to bang on Wm. Burroughs' doorstep but we were all too stoned, and not capable of a 7 hour drive.
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There was another nite before I left California in '93, when I was a little goffbrat... after 52 hours of no sleep, in a small room that was about a curtain away from the soundbooth to this pseudo-club I used to spin at... this friend of mine rolled a pipe out of tinfoil and a pair of chopsticks in about 30 seconds flat, then packed a bowl of angelica root, damiana and weed. It was surreal. Played a couple records, then somebody sat down at the junked drum kit in the corner. Somebody else broke out at Crowley/Thoth tarot deck and gave me a (in retrospect) frighteningly accurate reading that nite. The Debauchery card (a true work of art in the Crowley deck) factored prominently. Not 2 months later, I moved to New Orleans, did most of the acid I've done in my life, and wound up dating thet psychotic stripper that chased me out with a kichen knife. Considering the chaos in my life at the time, I still can't say if it was uncanny or a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Just lately I found myself on MDMA at a small party and wound up chatting up a (really cute) girl (ex of a co-worker, he says he's put in a good word) for a couple hours. That still has yet to pan out, but who knows...
It was an event that broke the funk I've been in since the evaporation of my last involvement.

Life is strange.

Rituals are incredibly important, and on occasion pivotal. Even if they are not or cannot be a regular factor, they will present themselves when they are truly needed.

This is a lesson I have been relearning of late. Funny how things go.

To borrow a phrase, 'Selah".

*takes another bong hit*
*wanders off*

[/storytelling mode]

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[This message has been edited by Shadow23 (edited 12-16-2000).]

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Registered: Jul 2000
Location: Upstate NY
Posts: 10151

Thanks bunkum - sorry I missed you last night!

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SETI@Home: join us!

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Registered: Jul 2000
Location: Los Angeles, Ca
Posts: 2109

When I was in high school and everyone was trying out cigarettes, we all smoked tobacco pipes. It was strange to see all us 16yo hunters gathering around puffing on our pipes. Cherry tobacco had too much bite, so I settled into vanillia. It was very smooth and tasted great. I think it reminded me of my dad. We quit after about 6 months because we got bored of it, but your post brought back good memories of our "gatherings" in a dry creek bed out in the desert or on the side of a mountain...

CAL

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"The desert is my church, and hunting is my god."

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