… is both a quotidien and a subtle experience. You don’t share with just anyone. You’re sipping from the same bombilla, after all. There’s a technique to it: filling the cup two-thirds full of the ‘tea’; jolting the woody bits to the top, trickling on the cold water, not too much and not too little; inserting the bombilla; having the hot water almost boiling but not quite and pouring it each time in the exact same spot; never moving the bombilla! — which is the metal straw with a wide, seive-like base. On a bad day the yerba tastes like straw chopped with a cigarette butt; other times it might be clover hay minced with a small joint, perhaps. More stimulant than sedative.

You drink it with family, with a partner, a friend, or an acquaintance who’s proving simpática.

It’s an eloquent moment when the little cup is slid to you across the table for the first time.