Yerba Maté

Yerba maté translates in English to something close to 'cup of herbal tea.'  I became hooked on mate (pronounced mah teh) long before I tried it for (then) subconscious reasons only to become clear later, which I discuss below.  During the summer of 2009 my friend from Argentina came through for a short visit, and we talked about mate.  He told me that “mate is a social drink; we pass it around from one person to another during conversation several times per day.”  Mate is not like coffee, it is literally shared.  The strong tea is prepared in a gourd or gourd-like container, with a metal bombilla (essentially a straw, traditionally these were made from hollow reeds, I believe), and it is passed from one person to the next, the water consistently being refilled by (for lack of a better term) the ‘mate boss.’  I could not wait to share mate with my friend and with new friends when I arrived in Argentina.  Here are some observations and stories about the process of an (this) American becoming a mate drinker.

My first mate was with my friend in his house, but I liked it so much that I don’t recall much about it except enjoying it.  I do recall the first several mates at work (at the museum, El Museo); there my friends made me coffee for the first couple of days.  Gustavo, the friend who visited me in 2009, confidently stated “I know Americans, they like coffee.”  Others drank mate around me, and I had to squeeze my way in, but eventually my new friends came to believe that I actually like mate.  I quickly became aware that being mate boss is somewhat competitive, with some friends believing they are much better at it than others.  We had many mates in the museum that week, and the whole process of slowing down, conversing, laughing, and sharing together over this drink grew on me even more.

Drinking mate in the museum with my friends never became bland, but during that first week we visited a Puesto (small ranch, El Puestero), and I gained even more experience drinking mate.  For starters, Gustavo and another good friend (Fito) and I drank mate on the way to the Puesto.  But once we were there, we shared more with Cupertino the Puestero.  There was no doubt that Cupertino was the mate boss in his own house, and he added some local medicinal herbs to his yerba.  He also added a small bit of sugar.  Cuptertino always wiped the bombillo with a cloth before he handed the mate to me, and at least twice during my stay in Argentina Gustavo told me that some people (Americans) are afraid of germs.  I do not know if Cuptertino always wipes off the bombillo before starting the next passing cycle, or if he was just being considerate of the fact that I am an American, the kindness of which would not surprise me.  If my friends in Argentina read this, please tell Gustavo and Cupertino that we are drinking mate regularly at home, and we do not wipe the bombillo!

You can imagine my great pride when Gustavo and I drove to see the Andes one weekend and I was in charge of pouring the mate.  I do not think that I yet qualify as a mate boss, but I beamed with joy  when he told me “you make a great mate partner.”  The next week we drank mate during breaks from the class I was teaching and we also drank it during class (photo above).  It was simply part of concentrating, listening, discussion, teaching, and learning.  Before I came home I bought my own mate gourds, bombillos, and yerba.  I just couldn’t leave it in Argentina.  Here’s why…

The sharing of yerba maté came to represent for me something that I believe Americans are losing, a sense of community in the most personal and direct sense possible—sharing.  This sharing is not over the internet or over the phone, it is not with a TV program or a video game, not with professionals at a conference or in a meeting; it was not “over beers.”  It was embedded in each part of every day.  My friends told me that when they come to the US, they often feel isolated from other people and (if and when this happens) they cannot wait to come home.  Like many people, they love the United States for what it represents: individual freedom, religious freedom, a great education infrastructure, et cetera.  But they recognize what seems to be missing, and at a minimum seems to be disappearing, community.  Our homes and offices are our fortresses of individuality.  Many attempts at sharing and community and putting ‘the good of many’ above ‘the good of individuals’ may be castigated as threatening, improper, and perhaps even un-American and ‘socialist!’

Perhaps being American is a double-edged sword.  The status of US citizenship presents unparalleled opportunities for personal freedom, wealth, and education, for which we (Americans) should be (and often are) thankful.  But we become un-American when Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Democrats, and Republicans cannot stand in a circle, laugh, talk, share, and pass the mate.