SAMBO CREEK, HONDURAS—The clear and crystal waters of the Caribbean foster a welcoming environment for some of the world’s most acclaimed rums. They taste of the thick sweetness of molasses, the caramelized fructose of bananas, and the woody spices of humid oak. But these rums have a bitter second face that rarely achieves formal status in the world of liquor production. In different parts, the bitter spirit has different names, but many Caribbeans take clear rum and soak medicinal herbs, roots, barks, and woods into liquor. In the Dominican Republic, this is the famous mamajuana. In the Garifuna communities of the Central American Caribbean coast, these medicinal macerations are called guifity.
Guifity must have come to the Honduran coast when the British moved the Garifuna people from their home on the island of Saint Vincent 200 years ago. Now, the drink is firmly established on the coast and both Garifuna people and other Hondurans enjoy the bitter and layered flavor of the maceration.
What was once likely a homemade medicine has become something of a cottage industry that is supported by supply chains and consumers both inside and outside of the Garifuna cultural sphere. In Garifuna towns like Corozal and Sambo Creek, south of the port city of La Ceiba, every other house offers up their own herbal blend of guifity. Some stands are even set up on the shoulder of the highway, bringing a factor of convenience to the local specialty.
Outside of a house in Sambo Creek, a mother braids her daughters hair beside a table covered in bottles of herb-filled guifity for sale. A close look at each bottle reveals the complexity of the maceration. There are sinuous roots swirling around the inside. There are woody chunks sitting heavily on the bottom. There are nutty orbs floating towards the top. There are curled leaves suspended in the middle.
The liquor has become the color of a vernal pool, infused with the tannins and medicinal compounds of who-knows-how-many different plant substances. The braiding vendor says, “It takes 15 days to make, so we don’t always have it.” Her recipe comes in two versions, one with only rum and one with rum mixed with coconut oil.
In Corozal, a beachside bar owner, Mario, makes his own guifity for sale to drinkers and tourists alike. The bar owner presents an interesting case in modern guifity production—all of his inputs are purchased. At that, they are all purchased from “gente blanca,” that is white people or non-Garifuna Hondurans.
Mario has been producing his guifity for nearly 20 years and says he learned the recipe from some friends who used to make it back in the day. Now, every Thursday, a truck arrives from La Ceiba selling cheap, clear, flavorless spirits (usually with the brand names Catrachito or Campeón.) These cheap spirits become the base for Mario’s house blend. On top of this, he buys his herbs from Hondurans in La Ceiba as well. “The white people sell a lot of herbs,” Mario considers, “I go to La Ceiba to buy these herbs.”
His guifity is mostly translucent and has a deep amber hue. It tastes a bit watered down, but the tannic bitterness of aromatic woods is evident. The inferior quality of the base spirit draws the drinkers notice.
Back in La Ceiba, herb vendors occupy stalls along busy streets. One Honduran vendor explains how she inherited her knowledge and stall from a friend who had since passed away. She buys the herbs in bulk and breaks them down into separate sachets and bottles for the production of guifity as well as herbal tea. Her clientele, she explains, are both Garifuna and Honduran.
She points to a bag of chunky cocolmeca on the ground. It is a common addition to drinks in most of what used to be Mesoamerica, being mixed into certain chocolate drinks as far north as Oaxaca. On a fence, she has also hung up spirals of a vine. She tells me that of the 18 herbs she mixes together, this vine, called contribo of the species Aristolochia grandiflora, is the most defining one for a guifity blend. “With warm water, it’s a medicine,” explains the vendor, “With rum, it makes the spirit happy. For the blood, kidneys, prostate, circulation—guifity has a variety of medicinal properties.” She adds that some Garifuna will buy from her, but some also still harvest herbs from the forest.
Guifity is Garifuna, but it has been broadly accepted by Honduras in general. Guifity is medicinal, but it has become recreational as well. “In all parts of Honduras there is guifity,” Mario concludes, “Guifity is a beverage of near international acclaim from the Garifuna culture.” Indeed, if you look hard enough, you may even find some in the Bronx in New York City.
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