Steve Smulders
While Roberto is telling a story, I fiddle with my index finger in my ear and make a painful face at it.
'What do you have?' asks Roberto concerned.
'My ear has been closed for a few days,' I sigh.
'But don't you have any cone tried?'
'Cono?' I ask surprised, because a cone I only know from the ice-cream shop where I always cono con due gusti, order a cone with two balls, hazelnut en pistachio.
'ma s, an cone, that works perfectly!' exclaims Roberto, surprised we don't know about this miracle cure. "We use it a few times a year because Antonica and Chiara both suffer from ear canal blockages."
"But what is it then?" I ask, curious now, but not yet sure if I want to. What kind of (medieval?) folkloric use can this be?
Roberto explains: 'A cone is a long, thin cone of beeswax-impregnated paper that you push gently into the ear canal and then set it on fire.'
'What?' I shout startled. 'My ear on fire? Didn't see me.'
Roberto laughs at my panic. "Don't worry, we won't burn the last bit of hair you have left."
Nice. Thank you, Roberto.
'The fire creates a negative pressure in the cone that causes excess earwax to be pulled out of your ear, like a chimney', Roberto continues his explanation.
It seemed strong to me, but who am I. Unlike the upcoming victim of this physics lab test.
'You can buy those cones at almost any supermarket for two euros each. Never seen?'
'No,' I answer sternly. As if its ubiquitous availability is a guarantee for the safety of my precious ear!
But Roberto continues unperturbed. I detect a sly smile at the corner of his mouth. He is no doubt looking forward to the forthcoming experiment in which I will be the object.
"It comes with a protective ring that prevents your ear from burning," he continues reassuringly.
"Ah, plastic, metal, or what?"
"No, cardboard."
I fall silent for a moment. Cardboard, combustible, uh…
'Don't worry, this remedy has been used for a long time and I've done it myself a dozen times. I'll ask Antonica if she has any more in the house.'
Antonica (unfortunately?) still has a few of those miracle cones in the house and half an hour later my head is on a pillow on the table (with my body still attached to it) and a paper cone sticks straight up from my ear.
'I'm lighting it now, just lie still. It only takes twenty minutes.'
'Twenty?' is the last thing I call. Famous last words?
"Silence, don't move."
Fortunately I don't feel anything, for the time being, and after more than fifteen minutes Roberto blows out the flame and pulls the cone out of my ear. That does not immediately close again, as has always been the case in recent days. mmm. Would it really work?
'And?' Roberto wants to know.
'Well, the ear canal seems open,' I hesitate.
"See, always works." Roberto looks at me triumphantly. "And look, in the tube is the dirt that was pulled from your ear."
There are indeed some brown-yellow lumps at the bottom of the paper tube. But they don't look much like… beeswax?
'And now you have to do the other ear as well, otherwise your system will get out of balance,' Roberto calls out, holding out a new tube to me.
'My other ear? But there's nothing wrong with that!' I protest.
'That's the way it should be,' Roberto looks at me seriously, but I refuse emphatically. No messing with a healthy ear.
Now, days later, my ear is still open. Hoera! An Italian alternative medicine website is singing the praises of this method, I see. And it also says that you should ALWAYS do the other ear too, which for me gives just that touch of superstitious hocus pocus to the drug that makes me suspicious.
On Wikipedia (the Dutch one, there is no Italian version of the article!) I then read that applying an 'ear candle' is considered ineffective, potentially dangerous and quackery:
The use of ear candling often leads to complications. In the aforementioned study, it emerged that there had been 21 reports of ear damage among the 122 ORL physicians interviewed, such as eardrum perforations, infections, burns and blocked ear canals. The researchers concluded that ear candling therapy is not only useless but also dangerous.
Source: https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oorkaarsentherapie
The story of the chimney operation would also be nonsense. A scientific study has apparently proven this. And the mess that remains in the tube is indeed just the melted and solidified beeswax. Well. Will be fine. But my ear is open again. Perhaps the heat from the molten beeswax 'just' caused the tube to drill an opening in the wad of wax? Anyway, I got rid of my problem in an Italian folkloric way.
I've also been suffering from an irritated eye for the last few days. Shall I do that to my doctor of trust present? No, but not. First check the Italian alternative health websites before I put it to Roberto. Soon he will advise popping the eye out of the greenhouse with a silver spoon and placing it in a cup overnight at the crescent moon. extra virgin soaking olive oil…
I still had a bottle of eye drops somewhere, didn't I?
🇮🇹Reading tip: Want to read more fun stories about life in Italy? You can find it in the three parts 'Italiaanse Status' by Stef Smulders, available at bol.com.
Comments