Everytime the subject of mate comes up in an international enviroment, it's a bit difficult to explain. Not the "like a tea" part, but the "sharing" part. I'm translating this text hoping it will shed some light on the matter.
Mate is not a drink. Well, ok, it's a liquid and goes down the throat. But it's not a drink.
In this country nobody drinks mate because he's thirsty. It's more like a habit.
Mate is the opposite to TV: it makes you talk if you're with somebody, and makes you think if you're alone.
When someone comes to your home, the first phrase is "hello", and the second "want some mate?".
It happens in every home. Between the rich and the poor. Between gossiping women and between serious or immature men. It's the only thing parents and children share without recriminations. On summer and winter. It's the only thing in common between good and bad people.
When you have a son, you give him mate when he asks for it. You make it warm, with lots of sugar, and they feel like grown ups. You feel a huge pride when that littlepartofyourblood starts drinking mate. Your heart leaves your body. After years, they will decide if they want it bitter, sweet, very hot, with ice, with orange, other herbs, with lemon.
When you met someone for the first time, you drink some mates. When there is no confidence, people ask "Sweet or bitter?". The other replies "as you like it".
Keyboards in Argentina have all the keys with yerba.
Yerba is the only thing that you always have, in every home. Always. Good times, bad times, hunger, militars, democracy, with any of our eternal curses. If one day you don't have yerba, a neighbor has and will give you some. You can't deny yerba to anyone.
This is the only country in the world where the choice of stop being a child and start being a man occurs in a particular day. No long pants, circuncition, university or living far from your parents.
Here we grow up the day we have the necessity to drink some mates... alone. It's not random. It's not just because. The day a kid prepares a mate and there's no one home, in that moment he has realized he has a soul. Or is scared to death, or deeply inlove, or something. It's no ordinary day.
None of us remember the day we drank mate alone for the first time. But it surely was a special day.
A simple mate is nothing more or less than a demonstration of beliefs...
Is the solidarity of stand those worn out mates because the conversation is good. The conversation, not the mate.
Is the respect in the times to talk and listen. You talk while the other drinks.
Is the sincerity of saying "that's enough, change the yerba!"
Is the sensitivity to boiled water.
Is the care of asking, stupidly, "it's a bit hot, right?"
Is the modesty of who's the better preparing it.
Is the generosity of giving until the end.
Is hospitality in the invitation.
Is justice of one each other.
Is the obligation to say "thanks" at least once a day.
Is the honest and loyal attitude of get together with no more pretense than sharing.
It still is a bit difficult to explain. Ok, I drink mate in the morning, as I would drink coffee or tea. But over all that, I value more what the mate means. In a way is explained up there. It's sharing. That's the part hard to explain outside Argentina. Yes, it's kind of a tea, that you drink in a cup with a straw. But you SHARE it. No, there's not one cup for each. We share the same one. For some, this is a bit gross :P
But it has its rewards. In the University, we shared a mate while in class, or while studying. It helps you stay awake, and it something else we are all sharing. When I started drinking mate in the morning, my parents kept drinking coffee, but they stayed five more minutes to share a mate with me. Once married, preparing the mate in the morning was a ritual that we also shared. When I went to Chaco in a mission, people who barely had enough to it offered you mate until your eyes went green. Sweet, with poleo, and very hot water, but you can't say no. You gather with some friends in the evening: the home owner makes the mate, the ones visiting brings the cookies.
It's so much more than just a drink for me. And I hope for you too.
