Eye of newt 2: more bizzare remedies
More bizarre self experimentation this week, after last week’s introduction to the “other world” of Russian folk medicine, home cures (call it/them what you will). In spite of the tone of my approach, I’m not putting them down – I’m neither qualified to condemn nor condone. They are certainly interesting to examine and if the exponents of such treatments champion their efficacy, who am I to argue? I’ve certainly never attached hot glass bubble jars to my back by force of suction alone, for instance.
For that is what they do (well some of them, some of the time), even though the treatment has become something of an anachronism. These little jars are called Banki and were at their most popular during the Soviet era when they migrated from the hands of medical professionals into the medicine cabinets of the public at large. The technique it seems, originated in China where “cupping” is still administered as part of traditional medicine, alongside a great many other cures and cure-alls that we in the West often have difficulty relating to on any level!
With Banki, a lit taper is momentarily placed inside each jar prior to its swift placing upon the patient’s back. This warms and expands the air within, forcing some to be expelled. Once held against skin, an airtight seal forms (perhaps with the help of ointment) as the cooling air within shrinks to form a semi-vacuum.
In progress, the fully “loaded” patient would lie face down with a back seemingly festooned with bubbles, half filled with reddening, puckered skin – like some exotic toad in the process of giving birth.
So, the above procedure would draw blood to the surface of the skin, but to what end? Seemingly, it’s about generating surface warmth and extracting toxins. The process certainly seems ritualistic enough to enable the patient to believe that he had endured a sufficient amount of “something” to get better? At any rate, Banki treatments were ubiquitous enough to be applied for all manner of ailments, from a cough to a stomach ache, whilst simultaneously transcending the social strata from poor to rich. A Russian institution of sorts, then.
I’m speculating on a placebo response here, as at least some part of the whole effect, but if you think about it modern medicine has its psychological (even placebo) component too. Just taking a positive action can help us feel better. Going to hear reassuring words from our ‘wise man’ (doctor) can have a positive effect. You will (hopefully) leave feeling less stressed than when you arrived. Also it’s worth considering the roots of some of our modern ‘magic bullets’. As “folk-healer” Gennadiy Malakhov states at Sputnik.com:
“I also think that tried and tested folk remedies cannot not be ruled out, especially since many commercial drugs today are created on the basis of medicinal herbs…”
On reflection, It’s unsurprising that many Russian treatments involve the generation of heat – the winter, with it’s season of colds and flu, is (as we’ve said so many times) notoriously brutal. So, what better way to apply instant warmth internally than via hot drinks, of course? Yes, the Russian DIY medical cabinet/kitchen features variations on this particular theme.
The rather rich combination of hot milk, honey and butter is considered a must for treating colds, often taken just before bed. Perhaps that injection of calories is a good energy source for a drained body (coupled with all the extra heat trapped under the covers)? I’m mentally retching at the thought of the dairy overload, but each to their own.
Green tea laced with fresh mint sounds more like it, with or without honey. Apparently it’s good for dispelling headaches, although it certainly doesn’t sound like a particularly potent combination. Mind you, I drink vat loads of the green stuff and haven’t had a particularly bad head in recent memory. Coincidence? Who knows?
[Photo by fusiontherapy]