Sep. 25 - Sri Lanka Government Wants to Grow 4,000kilos of Bud.
Sri Lanka government wants to grow its own marijuana
By C. Bryson Hull
COLOMBO (Reuters) - Sri Lanka's government wants to grow its own marijuana.
Facing a lack of the fresh weed for use in traditional Ayurvedic medical preparations, the government ministry responsible wants to be excepted from laws that have made marijuana illegal on the Indian Ocean island since the 1890s.
The Ministry of Indigenous Medicine this month broached a plan to grow 4,000 kg a year of marijuana, also known as cannabis, on a proposed 20 acre farm.
"We are interested in getting some approval to grow some cannabis with government sponsorship, but there must be controls. It is under study," Asoka Malimage, secretary at the Ministry of Indigenous Medicine, told Reuters on Thursday.
Ayurveda is a traditional medicine with roots in the early Hindu era which makes wide use of herbs and natural remedies with the goal of healing the body and mind. In Sri Lanka, ayurveda practitioners outnumber Western-trained doctors.
Fresh marijuana fried in ghee, a form of clarified butter, is used in about 18 different traditional medicines for treating a wide variety of ailments, Malimage said.
"At the moment they are getting some stocks from the courts of law, because there are people who grow this cannabis illegally and they have been raided by the police," Malimage said.
But the problem with that weed is that it is old and dried out, said Dr. Dayangani Senasekara, head of state-run Bandaranaike Memorial Ayurvedic Research Institute in Colombo.
"You can't get the fresh juice from old cannabis. What we get now is the powdered form and it's not effective," Senasekara said.
The institute is making preparations that use marijuana to treat high cholesterol, diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis and skin discolorations, and soon will formulate one for treating cataracts, Senasekara said...
Cataract surgery was known to the physician Sushruta. In India, cataract surgery was performed with a special tool called the Jabamukhi Salaka, a curved needle used to loosen the lens and push the cataract out of the field of vision. The eye would later be soaked with warm butter (most likely infused with THC) and then bandaged.
Kick-ass article published in the Calgary Herald
Waiting to exhale
Victor Dabby, Calgary Herald
Published: Thursday, September 25, 2008
The sweet-acrid odour of marijuana and hashish permeates the sprawling Pashupatinath temple complex as tens of thousands of pilgrims gather in Kathmandu to celebrate Maha Shivaratri, the annual festival to honour Shiva.
In keeping with tradition, many celebrants start the day by getting high to attain a state of mind, they say, that is conducive to the worship of the fearsome Hindu god, known as both the creator and the destroyer of life.
One of the last countries to ban cannabis in 1973, Nepal accommodates Shiva's disciples by unofficially suspending its anti-drug laws for the day, leaving the devout to puff in peace, amid much worldly buying and selling of dope - and otherworldly chanting and meditating.
The half-hour drive into Kathmandu from the airport is a shock to the system. Traffic is a free-for-all. Rickshaws fight for space on both sides of the street with smoke-spewing trucks, buses and motorcycles. Cows wander unmolested, randomly dropping dung. The city looks poorer and more run down than the last time I visited in 2000.
As we approach Thamel, Kathmandu's old quarter where most tourists stay, the driver waves at the Narayanhiti royal palace. "Goodbye, king," he says sarcastically, referring to the demise of Nepal's monarchy.
The palace is a living reminder of that fateful day - June 1, 2001 - when a crazed Crown Prince Dipendra walked into a gathering of the royal family and machine-gunned nine members, including his father, the popular King Birendra. He then shot himself.
The reason: his father wouldn't let him marry his beautiful aristocratic lover.
The massacre further destabilized Nepal and destroyed the monarchy that ruled the country for two centuries. The king's successor, his hapless brother Gyanendra, is history, as Nepal became a republic led by Maoists who may - or may not - have abandoned such extreme policies as looking to North Korea as a role model. No one is quite sure.
At first glance, the Thamel quarter is booming. Its maze of narrow streets is full of tourists - mainly European and Asian - dodging persistent hawkers who peddle everything from tiger balm to Buddhist paraphernalia.
"We hope foreigners keep coming now that we have peace," travel agent Madhan tells me in an uncertain tone.
"For years, they heard of the (civil) war and were afraid. They stayed away, even though not one foreigner was hurt in the war."
Now, people cope with more mundane threats like daily power cuts -usually lasting eight hours - that cripple businesses and homes, as well as fuel shortages that result in massive lineups at gas stations. While it often seems that Kathmandu is a city that runs on empty and lives in the dark, visitors who persist and seek out its one-of-a-kind attractions will be richly rewarded.
Thamel is crammed with outlets for everything from hiking boots, thermal hats and gloves to sleeping bags, tents and backpacks. Some are excellent knock-offs made in Nepal and China, or the real thing for a fraction of the cost. There are countless shops offering hand-woven carpets, Buddhist art, jewelry, pashmina shawls and woollen sweaters, as well as cut-rate CDs, DVDs and books. Be prepared for no-holds-barred bargaining. It's a blood sport here. Ask for a price, offer half that and go on from there.
There's no better way to end a great day of shopping than eating at a great restaurant. Kathmandu offers an embarrassment of riches in cuisine -Nepali, Tibetan, Indian, Chinese, Thai, Korean, Japanese, Italian or French. And did you know Fire and Ice (favoured by the late Prince Dipendra and his lover) has the world's very best pizza?
In the heart of the city are the spectacular monuments that make up Durbar Square, dating to the 17th century and once home to Nepal's royalty, a vast compound of temples, palaces and courtyards.
Its most fascinating resident -and main attraction - is the Kumari Devi, a young girl who is worshipped by followers who believe she is a living goddess. Chosen for the "job" by a panel of priests, much in the same way that Tibetans anoint a new Dalai Lama, she is retired when she has her first menstrual period. Then, she moves out of Durbar Square and is replaced with the next young goddess.
The big event at Durbar takes place midday when the reigning Kumari Devi appears at a window overlooking a temple courtyard to be seen by mere mortals, though no one can take her photo.
Whatever you do, Kathmandu's unrelenting dust and pollution will get under your skin and into your nostrils. For a break, hop into a cab and head out to nearby Bhaktapur or Patan, both World Heritage sites with restored temples and palaces that represent the best of traditional Nepali architecture.
Another must-see is the larger-than-life Bodhnath stupa (circular temple), the spiritual home of Nepal's Tibetan refugees. It's the centrepiece of Little Lhasa - a city within a city - with all-Tibetan monasteries, schools, restaurants, hotels and handicraft stores.
Back at the Shiva festival, it's starting to get ugly. What began as a laid-back, sunny day at the temple has turned menacing as countless thousands - the next day's Kathmandu Post put total attendance at 400,000 -push their way into the Pashupatinath complex.
The spacious walkways are crammed with frustrated pilgrims shoving each other to make way. At one point, gridlock develops. Then, panic ensues as policemen rush in to open a path, beating everyone in sight with long bamboo sticks.
People panic and scatter. Someone pushes me, and I stumble to the ground. My flip-flops fly off and I find myself barefoot.
For an instant, it feels like I could become another faceless casualty in one of those brief news stories from Asia: "Scores crushed in temple stampede." But just as that thought takes hold, someone reaches down to me and pulls me up. Someone else retrieves my flip-flops and hands them back as I limp away.
Eventually, I get out and manage to hail a cab to Thamel. As I settle in my seat, I thank the gods for letting me escape unscathed.
In Kathmandu, take nothing for granted. Enjoy the peace while you can because life here can literally turn on a dime.
If You Go. There are two seasons - dry and wet. To avoid the monsoon, it's best to visit between October and May. If you're trekking, January and February can get pretty cold at higher elevations.
Usually, tourists come to Kathmandu as a jumping off point to go west to the Annapurnas (Pokhara), east to Everest (Lukla) or south to the Terai (Bharatpur). Wherever you go, you can save yourself many bruising hours on a bus by booking an internal flight on one of Nepal's small private airlines. My favourite is Sherpa-owned Yeti Airlines (yetiairlines.com). Most internal flights are less than an hour long and cost about $100 each way.
. Kathmandu has a bewildering array of hotels and guest houses. You can't go wrong booking yourself into the venerable Kathmandu Guesthouse (ktmgh.com). It is centrally located in Thamel and offers a full range of accommodations, though its "garden-facing" rooms are the best deal at around $35 a night.
Thamel is also home to scores of travel agencies that will arrange treks and book your hotels and flights. I settled on NEC Travels and Tours (nectravels.com) to organize a visit to Tibet. At the last minute, the trip was cancelled as riots broke out in Lhasa. But NEC refunded my money with no hassles and arranged a terrific trek in the Annapurnas instead.
The easiest part of visiting Nepal is getting your 30-day tourist visa. When you arrive at Tribhuvan International Airport in Kathmandu, just make sure you have some U.S. cash handy (about $50), fill out the forms and get in line at the immigration counter where they stamp your passport. For more information, go to nepal.embassyincanada.com
