4 minute read
GETTING GROUNDED WITH KAVA
Ben McQueen dips the kava root into a large bowl of water. PHOTO BY TIM ATWELL
By Tim Atwell
Lounging in a sunny chair outside of Karuna Kava Bar, Ben McQueen seems far removed from his troubled past. He’s wearing a deep-necked Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, raising his thumb and pinky in a “shaka sign”, and doing more than his fair share to bring a slice of the Pacific islands to Garden City.
On the table in front of him rests a “shell” of kava, the traditional beverage that has been consumed for over 3,000 years on Pacific islands such as Hawaii, Vanuatu, Fiji, the Samoas, and Tonga.
Drinking kava numbs the lips and provides a sense of calm. Despite its recreational effects, kava doesn’t impair cognitive function like alcohol or cannabis. This makes it appealing to the “sober curious” crowd who are seeking healthier alternatives to the traditional bar scene, as well as recovering addicts who are looking for ways to manage stress without drugs or alcohol.
“Kava is a tool to help you stay away from the poison that you can’t stop drinking,” said McQueen. “It’s for people that want to stop drinking, people that want to be healthier, and people that are interested in the experience itself.”
McQueen describes how, when struggling with alcohol addiction, he found himself at a literal crossroads—on one side was a distillery, and on the other was a kava bar. He picked kava out of curiosity, and in doing so, he took a step toward sobriety and eventually opening his own business.
“I ended up talking to different kava farmers throughout the South Pacific,” said McQueen. “It was a wonderful experience because there’s always something new to learn about kava, especially on the cultural side.”
In a “kava circle” at Karuna Kava Bar, the beverage is prepared in the traditional island style. Guests sit in a circle on the ground while McQueen dips the kava root into a large bowl of water and kneads it like a baker working with fresh dough. After the roots steep for several minutes, everyone receives a serving in a small bowl, about four inches wide and two deep, shaped to imitate a traditional coconut shell.
Together, the group raises shells and says the Fijian version of cheers, “Bula!”
As the kava sinks in and the group relaxes, topics bounce around unexpectedly—philosophy book recommendations, tips for living in cars, and stories about getting sober.
“With alcohol, you put on a false face,” McQueen said. “With kava, you can show your true self. Here, we talk, we laugh… we’ve cried together.”
There’s a new person in the circle, and someone asks them, “Do you feel anything?”
“I think so…”
“Yeah. You look grounded.”
Soon, it’s time to leave, and McQueen steps outside to meet his wife and children.
To the children, the word “grounded” probably means something wildly different than it does for the kava circle—as a kid, the idea of “getting grounded” usually represents a loss of fun and freedom.
It’s easy to imagine if McQueen took the other turn at the crossroads and continued drinking booze. In that alternate world, he might be wearing the same Hawaiin shirt and sunglasses, but instead of hanging out at the kava bar, he would be at another type of bar looking for the fleeting sense of fun and freedom that called to him from his next drink.
Here he is instead, clear-eyed and energetic, waving shaka at the community gathered at his business and taking his family out to dinner.
At the kava bar, it doesn’t seem so bad to get grounded.
