CHEWING THE QAT WITH A FRIEND

"The stimulant effect does not seem to be produced in everyone who uses it,
and the initial effects for new users can be quite unpleasant, in the form
of dizziness and stomach pains."

Such was the advice that the Independent on Sunday's travel doctor gave to
a reader who wrote last summer to inquire if the chewing of qat leaves, as
practised in certain parts of the Middle East and Africa, is harmful to
health. The words certainly gave me food for thought as I headed off to
sample the pleasures of qat for myself last week, though I'm not sure which
worried me most: the dizziness and stomach pains or the possibility that
nothing would happen.

My guide on this maiden voyage into the seas of narcosis was to be Kevin
Rushby, whose new book, Eating the Flowers of Paradise, is published this
week. Subtitled "A journey through the drug fields of Ethiopia and Yemen",
it's a fascinating and occasionally very funny travelogue in which the qat
tree has a central role. Rushby begins his journey in Harer, the highlands
of Ethiopia, where the qat tree is said to have originated, and follows the
ancient trade route to Djibouti and then across the Red Sea to Yemen.

Rushby, who is 37, taught English in Yemen for four years and during that
time he came to understand the way in which qat is far more than just an
alcohol substitute and, in fact, dominates the culture. As he says in his
book, the drug has a pivotal role in society, dictating when restaurants
open and close, where roads go to and even whether couples have sex and how
long it lasts. It's estimated that qat accounts for a third of Yemen's
gross national product and growers are among the country's highest earners.

While not actually proselytising on qat's behalf, Rushby is an eloquent
spokesman for its beneficial effects, and he's keen to let people try it
for themselves. He was a guest on Radio 4's Midweek programme last week and
offered his fellow-guests a nibble. Ned Sherrin gave it a go, but American
chat-show host Jerry Springer declined and was keen to stress to any
Americans listening that he hadn't tried it. No doubt he was mindful of the
fact that while qat is legal in this country, it's banned in the States.

We'd arranged to meet in the East End, in order to purchase our qat from a
Yemeni supplier, but when we got there the shop was shut, so there followed
a taxi ride over to west London. We arrived at a small newsagent's, where
the Ethiopian shopkeeper greeted Rushby warmly. After a brief chat he went
over to the soft-drinks cabinet and took out a green bin bag from the
bottom shelf. Inside were several bundles of qat, wrapped neatly in banana
leaves and tied with raffia. We bought two, at £5 a piece.

Only later, in the safe haven of Rushby's sister's flat in north London,
did I get a close look at what we had bought. Each bundle contained about
12 sprigs. I'd expected it to look like privet, but the serrated leaves
were more reminiscent of mint. This was Ethiopian qat, which had been flown
in from Harer. It was also a special variety which keeps its potency for
several days - most qat loses its effect within 24 hours of being picked.
The active ingredient is cathinone and its effects have been variously
described. Some say it's a mild amphetamine, others describe it as more of
a relaxant. Anyway, I was about to find out for myself.

As I crunched on my first couple of leaves the first problem was to avoid
swallowing, as we were following the Yemeni tradition of keeping the chewed
qat in a wad inside the cheek, to be spat out at the end of the session.
The taste was very bitter, although as time passed it became more bearable,
if not exactly pleasant, and frequent liberal sips of Fanta certainly
helped. I'm not sure exactly when I first began to feel something, but
after three-quarters of an hour I became aware of a vague sense of well-being.

We chewed on and we talked, although I can't remember much of what we said.
After a while a pleasing torpor came over both of us and the conversation
became less frequent. Visits to the bathroom, however, became somewhat more
frequent. Qat is known for putting the bladder into overdrive, and in my
case it seemed to have given my bowels an unwelcome kick-start as well.
However, this was the only adverse effect I experienced at the time, apart
from the urge to smoke considerably more than I normally would. Later that
night I found it difficult to sleep.

Overall it was a very pleasurable experience, and considerably more
enjoyable than a few drinks in a pub. So would I do it again? I've pondered
this long and hard and I think I might just say yes.