Snake Wine
The story goes like this:
The band had just played our Sunday night show. Sunday is Jam Night, and due to the national holiday, there were more people around than usual. We had a GREAT night. In fact, we had one of the best nights of our trip thus far. Having a great night makes everyone involved feel great, and when the music stops the party usually continues on. A friend recommended that we check out a nearby bar to continue the party and experience something truly Chinese: snake wine.
I said to myself, “What the heck.. I’m a foreigner in a foreign land, I’ll try anything once.”
We walked into the bar and got situated. Our friend (who has been in Shanghai for a long time) ordered the wine and the bartender gave them a second glance.. “Are you sure you know what you’re ordering?” Catching that glance gave me second thoughts but I was feeling good and I figured it couldn’t hurt. Then I saw the bottle.
I looked at the jar. It’s literally a DEAD SNAKE in a JAR OF BOOZE.
The “wine” is prepared by taking a live venomous snake and dropping it into a vat of prepared alcohol, killing the snake and thereby extracting its “essence”. That “essence” is supposed to have restorative qualities, such as increasing sexual libido, boosting the immune system, putting hair on one’s chest, etc.
The bartender pulled out a ladle and began pouring us shots.
I exchanged concerned glances with the band.
The first shot is probably the hardest to get down. The taste is… well, exactly like you’d imagine: disgusting! It’s oily, and strong and smells and tastes of reptile. Some of us could barely get it down.
We pounded our chests and chased it with other drinks, but no matter what else I put down the pipe I tasted it in my mouth for the rest of the night.
Somehow another shot appeared in front of me. I drank that and decided that was enough for me and I began making conversation with different members of the group. The effects of the snake wine began to take hold and I experienced a strange kind of alcohol buzz unlike anything else I had tried to date. My head was swimming with a strange lightness and I could feel an uprising of emotional warmth for everyone around me. I am normally a happy drunk anyway, but this was taken to a new level. I turned to the other members of the band…
To Earl: “Dude.. you are my BROTHER. BROTHER!!!! Since the moment I met you, I KNEW. I KNEW WE WOULD BE BROTHERS. I could feel it deep down in my SOULLLL!”
To Tony: “Dude.. I am so happy to say that you have become my FRIEND. Not just a band mate, but a LIFE LONG FRIEND. YOU ARE MY BROTHER!! We are DESTINED FOR GREATNESS. Can you feel the GREATNESS?! … FOR LIFE!”
I proceeded to tell some of the other friends we had met in Shanghai how much they meant to me and how happy I was to have new friends… “You know, you are up there playing.. and trying so hard to make everyone happy and pour your soul out night after night.. and when we see YOU come in, suddenly everything is okay. We know that if all else fails, we can PLAY FOR YOU! YOU ARE MY BROOTTTHHEERRR/SIISTTEERRRR!!!”
Another shot appeared in front of me. I look over at Tony and he cracks up. We all take shots, toasting this and that “To Shanghai!”, “To Women!”, “To The Blues!”, “To Mike Null!”, “To Whatever-the-fack!”, “TO ALL MY BRROOOTTHHEERSSSS!!!” Can you guess which one was me?
This stuff was my first encounter with a chemical TRUTH SERUM. The drunk high just kept getting better and better as I began “bonding” with more and more people so I decided to keep drinking. I must have had 3 or 4 more after that.
At one point, people started to get sick, but we just laughed and said “HaHA! They can’t hang. The snake is not their friend.” We decided to move on to a new bar to continue the party.
I, unfortunately, never made it to the next bar. Stuffed in the back seat of a cab with 4 other people I felt that familiar bubble in my belly that could only mean one thing. “Guys, I’m just going to warn you.. I’m going to be sick. Very soon.”
We made it to the next bar, but I wouldn’t even go in. I was in full retreat. I immediately turned around and got back in the cab, despite calls from everyone else to continue on. I told the cabbie where to go in what must have been the worst Mandarin he had every heard, because he just started laughing. After 3 or 4 attempts at communication, he got it and he drove me home. With every turn and bump I could feel myself getting closer to the big purge.
I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that I was SICK. The kind of sick that gives you a six pack. The kind of sick that makes your eyeballs and veins pop out. I was an urban artist, leaving a trail of vomitous graffiti inspired by the essence of snake.
I made it to my bed and passed out, only to wake up STILL SICK. I was sick ALL DAY. Every flex of my sick diaphragm was followed by spiteful curses to the snake gods. At one point I had to text message my band mates to bring me OJ and crackers because I was too lightheaded to get out of bed! I fought the snake, and well.. the snake won. The snake.. was not my brother.
Once I returned to the land of the living, I was chatting with a few locals at the club. They told me that the snake wine isn’t Chinese, but Vietnamese.. and that the Chinese won’t drink it! This is coming from people who eat bullfrog, donkey, duck heads and all sorts of strange (to me) things!
So let this blog post serve as a warning to all you traveling westerners. I have learned to respect the snake!
this was too funny!! i bet you’re not allowed to bring any of that home with you huh? darn.