Karamaca

---

Have you ever heard a word that when translated you realise that there is no equivalent word in your own language? Well probably; languages steal all the time. We all enjoy a bit of shadenfreude. We all enjoy a bit of déjà vu.



In Itaukee there is a word – Karamaca. It boils down to an unquenchable thirst, but when travelling and learning with people factory definitions are not how you receive the meaning of a word. Instead you are given stories with the word dissolved within them. (As an aside, if you prefer things pinned down and precise, then this travel experience will exasperate you).



Karamaca is the feeling that you have drunk as much water as you possibly can, your stomach is full and you don’t think you could add even a wafer thin mint, yet still you want more water, your mouth is dry and your brain implores you that you are still thirsty.



I know one man who lives in a perpetual state of karamaca, but perhaps this is not a sensation that everyone might have felt with water. But the idea had me thinking about where else we experience karamaca.



Is it the feeling of addiction, that although one knows it isn’t good for you desire it anyway above everything else? Like when you have too many pringles you desperately want another one but your stomach feels more and more sick. That’s not quite right though, because your brain is telling you that you are thirsty legitimately, not out of addiction, its more that your body can’t currently handle the logistics of getting it into your bloodstream rather than it being bad for you.



So is it the sensation of travelling? One goes first on a trip, a small sip from the water glass. The refreshing feeling of being overseas, released from the dry drudgery of day-to-day life. You decide that you are still a bit thirstier, and plan a jaunt to the orient. The culture and excitement fill your stomach as you learn and experience, you feel part of something wider, your stomach is now engorged. You refill your glass a third time and splash out on another trip to a billabong in Antipodea, you feel your body start to heave, now heavy and bloated from so much input.



Your mind and everyone else tells you that travel nourishes you and expands your free thought to dream and create. And whilst tasting the exotic mineral water you feel strength coursing through you as you grow. Yet your stomach, it doesn’t know how to handle it; how to absorb more cultures, how to translate your experiences into mental wealth; how to ensure that you get salt and vitamins, that may not quench thirst but it knows are also essential.



When do you feel karamaca?

---