I stuck my head in closer to the vintage jar in the glass case to get a clearer look. Still, I could not make out the dark crusty-looking items.
They looked like pieces of dried wood or bark lying there inside these large countertop jars. The paper label on the front of several said “Kumquats,” but these things did not look like kumquats.
What the heck were they, I wondered.
I could’ve just unscrewed the dirty gummy lids, sniffed inside, taken a piece out of the jar and examined it. But I was not that brave. I sometimes wear rubber gloves to protect my hands when I’m combing the auction tables handling these grimy who-knows-where-they’ve-been items.
Still curious but without an answer, I moved on. I’m sure other bidders wondered the same thing about the eight jars. My auction buddy Janet didn’t have a clue, either.
When they came up for auction, we finally got an answer. “The jars have Chinese herbs in them,” the auctioneer said, holding up a jar for us to see. Then it made sense. I had not seen many Chinese herbs or other such medicinal items before, so these were foreign to me. They were not pretty, but they apparently were the real thing in their natural dried state.
I’m sure these jars once rested on a counter in a store or the home shop of an herbalist. I can imagine customers unlike unknowledgeable me coming in, going right to the jar they wanted and unhesitatingly choosing their herbs.
That’s their culture, but not mine. My experience is that of tourist: In San Francisco once, I went on a walking tour of Chinatown – which is said to be the oldest in this country – and one of the stops was a Chinese market. The smells were offensive to my nose, and some of the items – were they fruits or vegetables? – were unrecognizable to me. But being there was like walking through an exotic garden.
I suppose Chinese herbs are not that different from the concoctions some baby boomers or their parents remembered from their childhoods. When they got an ache, no one ran to the CVS to get Tylenol. They’d likely get some home remedy their grandmother wrapped in a cloth, or drink some tea likely made from a leaf.
But those remedies looked nothing like the stuff in the jars in front of me at the auction house. Later, I realized they were among several Asian-related items up for auction that day (including a pinup calendar from a Chinese noodle shop and some books) and I’m assuming they all came from the same estate. None of the items sold for much: The large jar went for about $6, the others for less. The smaller jars themselves were vintage glass canisters or storage jars worth about $10 to $15 each.
I wondered what the herbs were and what ailments they cured – or were supposed to cure? My thinking about Chinese herbs was likely the same as many of us in this country. How safe are they?
Wanting to know more, I Googled. Most of the sites I found were retailers selling the herbs as tablets, teas, capsules, powders, soups, face and body creams, and dried. Some combined historical information about herbs and Traditional Chinese Medicine along with their products, but I could find few that solely offered objective information.
Traditional Chinese Medicine is considered alternative medicine in this country because it has not been through clinical controls required of U.S. pharmaceutical companies. So, there’s a debate over how well it works. The Chinese, according to several websites, have been using certain herbs to treat ailments for thousands of years as a way to restore the balance of yin and yang, which are said to be off-balanced when the body is ill.
The National Institutes of Health has a website with information on alternative medicine and herbal supplements.
What’s your take on alternative medicines, including Chinese herbal supplements?
