J'accuse: Tiger Balm

This article and accompanying Bertoon appeared in yesterday’s edition of The Malta Independent on Sunday. (06.09.2009)

It’s the remedy that works wherever it hurts. I carry tubs of it wherever I go and can vouch for its efficacy to soothe sore muscles, loosen blocked noses and bring back fresh air to a heavy chest. Rubbing a small amount of it on your temple can do miracles for that persistent migraine. It’s the MacGyver of herbal remedies, the Mr Fixit of Oriental solutions, the Holy Grail of non-prescription ailments and the ultimate placebo for the persistent misdemeanours of a body succumbing to fatigue. It’s all that and more – the famous Tiger Balm that began it’s long journey in the halls of Imperial China until it was transformed into an entrepreneurial success story by Mr Aw Chu Kin (May the Lord Shower Him With Eternal Blessings) as he set up shop in what was then Burma.

Since those heady days around a hundred odd years ago, the product that can be scientifically described as a topical analgesic has travelled a long way in order to become “the legend in a jar” that it is nowadays. The basic herbal formula remained mostly untouched only to develop different subvarieties for an ever more demanding market that required the marketing and wrapping that goes beyond the one-jar-fits-all-ailments formula.

Personally I favour the little red tub varieties – the White Essential Balm is always at my bedside and on nights that threaten to become a snore infested orchestral symphony a quick sniff of the white balm banishes the evil demons to neverland. The uncanny versatility of these balms is such that they promise to unblock your blocked nose while contemporaneously (and without any extra added effort) winning a battle against stomach flatulence. Yes, go grab your dose of this addictive herbal wonder now.

Of course it doesn’t take a genius to know that there is no tiger in Tiger Balm. The analgesic might contain a weird concoction of unknown herbaceous elements glued together with the saliva of termites for all I know but no ferocious, striped members of the larger end of the feline family were harmed in the manufacture of these products. Which is good. Because much as I am enamoured with the magical herb and its balmiferous format I would immediately cancel all subscriptions to Mr Chu Kin’s product were I to know that a tiger had suffered, in any moral or physical way, for me to obtain any form of pain or gaseous relief.

Uomo Tigre (Tiger Man)
I am not sure whether the Bengal tiger cub found in a warehouse in Mosta has suffered in any way. Who knows whether its transit from its homeland to its current place of adobe caused any psychological stress to the magnificent animal? Who knows what the poor tiger must make of the bangs and bombs of our magnificent festa celebrations as it nervously paces along the length and breadth of its very, very wrong new habitat? Who knows whether the chickens thrown to it for daily sustenance suffice to fulfill its oriental needs and tastes? Who knows?

Frankly I am much more interested to know if there is possibly any legal way for such a fine specimen of mother nature’s wild varieties to enter our island. Even if there was, and I doubt there is, my inquisitive, nosey nature leads to query the sanity of the potential owner who is deriving whatever unfathomable pleasure from the caging and displacing of this splendiferous beast. As the usual grapple of brave NGOs have just begun to kick up a ruckus about the potential visit of an animal circus we discover that there are dubious representatives of the human race among us who labour under the fantasmagorical illusion that keeping a tiger in a warehouse in Mosta could improve their lot, that of the tiger and of course would not imperil the life of any other being in the vicinity.

A few weeks ago while still enveloped with the fumes of the silly season, our papers revelled in the news of the lost iguana (was it an iguana? … it definitely was a big lizard) that had quit its caged partner and strayed beyond the control of its owner into the concrete jungle that is Bugibba. The modern dragon’s partner pined for its better half much like Cleese’s parrot pined for the fjords. The cold-blooded Juliet went on a hunger strike and refused to perform whatever it had hitherto been accustomed to perform until its Romeo would be back. The distress of their Russian (or was it Ukrainian? – damn, I should pay attention to details) owner was palpable and the hunt for the slithery temporary bachelor went on relentless until one day – probably bored scaleless by the nightscene and Brits in Bugibba – Romeo demonstrated his fine skills of animus revertendi (or the intention to return) and turned up on the Slavic doorstep just in time to frighten the home help.

I don’t know about you but if I am ever bored enough to attempt a promenade along the grey roads of Bugibba, the last thing I would like to encounter is a homesick miniature Komodo Dragon. Similarly if I decided to take a stroll in the streets of Mosta the last thing I would be prepared to face would be the striped offspring of a feline giant fully equipped with weapons of flesh destruction. I could go on in the same vein about my reluctance to meet serpents of whatever size or shape or other reptilian manifestations that are best viewed through the educative lenses of David Attenboroughs documentaries.

Safety is but one issue here. There is that of the well being of the animal and of the proper habitat which it should by rights enjoy. It is only stupidly egoistic and spoilt men who can convince themselves that neither our safety nor the well-being of the animal have been imperilled by their puerile fetish of importing the unimportable. I’d suggest a good copy of Sim City Zoo or Tamagochi (virtual reality pets) in order to fulfill their twisted desires.

Tiger Economy

It’s probably only the result of the extension of the silly season that we are still talking zoos, circuses and animals. All we need is a live reenactment of the events in Karl Schembri’s “Il-Manifest tal-Killer” to be complete. It was not only in Malta though that the tigers hit the headlines. China’s plans to introduce new legislation that would sanction tiger by-products is proving to be extremely controversial and has raised worried eyebrows in many a corner around the world. There you go… the full circle … China, Tigers and Balms. No wonder I am so fixated with tigers this week.

In recent years the “tiger” has replaced the “bull” in order to describe a healthy, prosperous and growing economy. We had the “Tiger Economies” in the Far East, then the Irish membership of the European Union transformed the Emerald Isle into the “Celtic Tiger”. There they were, growling and gnashing their teeth threatening to upset the status quo of economic dominance. Until the economic crisis that is. The recession had the effect of levelling the tables a little bit and we are now getting used to the new discourse of saving and efficiency.

In fact, where tigers and economy cross paths now is the area of conversation. The striped mammal is in dire need of protection as the new Chinese developments force it to slide up the rankings of endangered species. The economy is also in a dire need of saving – especially since the big world plan to inject new confidence in the economy seems to be flailing as some of the larger countries plan to renege on their commitments.

Tiger Coil
Which brings me to the need to find alternative forms of energy. The breaking news today (Friday) in Malta was the obnoxious gas smell that pervaded most of the island. Somebody joked that finally oil had been discovered while others speculated that this must be the cause of some collective flatulence problem (where’s the Tiger Balm when you need it?). While the usual troop of comments got carried away with the wind (excuse the pun) I was reading about the latest technological innovations in this week’s issue of the economist.

One particular innovation caught my eye. It seems that the problem of deep sea wind turbines has finally been solved. You know those controversial offshore windmills that would provide an alternative source of energy for the island? Well one of the problems with this kind of source is that it is difficult to place them in deep sea… at least until now. StatoilHydro (Norway) and Siemens (Germany) have teamed up to come up with turbines on floating platforms that are harnessed to the bottom of the sea by cables. The turbines are designed to work to up to 700m of depth – now although my name is Jacques I am not an expert of the sea bed as Cousteau was. My guess though is that 700m should be enough to work with in the Med and that we should at least be giving this kind of technology some consideration. As I said, I am no expert and I am just thinking out loud but hey… don’t say I did not mention it.

Berlusconi
I apologise for the incongruous subtitle but the man really does not fit anywhere. Thank God for him in any case because for two weeks he has provided Bertu and myself with the appropriate fodder for the toon. He has either lost it or he has some very shrewd marketing advisers helping him out this time round. He has not only given up hope on his pet football team but he has decided to start battles on all quarters.

Silvio has chosen to tackle the Vatican, the Press, and the European Commission all at one go. First we had the divorce from Veronica Lario, then the stories about his trysts with the veline and these were quickly followed with a battle of censorship, bullying and harassment to clear his name. I never had any doubts that the man’s historic beginning as an animateur on cruise liners would finally get the better of him. He was never credible with his political incursions (scendo in campo) and he has come to epitomize the ugly side of what modern politics is about – an exercise in mass marketing and deception.

Il Cavaliere’s latest charade was his threat to shut down the European Commission if it did not reign in its spokespersons – especially those spokespersons who were questioning his methods with the illegal immigrants. He also wants to shut the mouth of La Repubblica and its ten questions asking the Premier for clarification. As the jokers on www.Spinoza.it claimed, once Berluska is done with La Repubblica he’ll have a word with the man upstairs about those ten commandments. With the Colonel on one side and the Chevalier on the other, our island is spoilt for role models when it comes to political leadership.

Tiger Buses
Finally. Our buses have the kind of livery that could easily lend itself to an imitation of a tiger traipsing through the jungle. One of my favourite Maltese blogs is a collection of anecdotes as witnessed on Maltese buses. It is called “Fuq tal-Linja” and can be found at www.fuq-tal-linja.dwardu.info. Writer Dwardu has found the right formula to keep readers waiting for the next post and I must share this week’s best one with you (it comes straight from twitter).

There’s a long queue of Germans taking their time boarding the bus one by one without any rush at all. When finally the last of the group are boarding, one of them turns to the driver and asks “For Valletta?” …. the illuminated reply replete with the best of Maltese sarcasm?…. “For Today”. I can only just imagine the intonation – I never thought I’d miss the commuting on the dinosaurs of the road.

That’s all today. It’s been hard resettling in a very rainy Duchy where the temperature gauge already refuses to climb above twenty. See you next week with some real news. And don’t forget… “He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount.”

Jacques’ blog went into sudden limbo sometime midweek but all has been repristinated at http://www.akkuza.com. Comments included.