and it's no secret that the East is rapidly sneaking up on the world as the next superpower.
But there is hope. There is something holding South Korea back from achieving greatness. It is called SOJU, and it strikes fear into the heart of every foreigner that strolls into a Seoul convenience store and sees it sitting on the shelf between the milk and the yoghurt. If the direct translation of Soju is anything other than "poison" then it has been mislabeled, for that is exactly what it is. Sold in an innocent enough little green bottle , the way the BFG used to bottle up his captured nightmares in unlabelled snozcumber jars- it is a cocktail for death.
The Koreans drink it like we'd drink an Amstel, and since it comes in a beer bottle and alcohol is allowed to be publically consumed in this land, it can be found on every street corner. Our pride and joy back home is Cane, and we smugly advertise the fact that it is outlawed in just about every country in the world. But this concoction, well it's a bit like cane, vodka and water. None of this business of masking the taste with a grape flavor- the way that SAB sells Cane posing as a spritzer and tasting like jungle-yum green juice. No no, the Koreans have always failed to understand the West's need for introductions and foreplay in life. They work longer hours than anyone else, their kids study harder, our lunch-break is ten-minutes of amateurish chopstick shoveling before resuming our classes. And if Soju is any indication of their drinking habits, then the same applies to this custom. It is revolting. Us foreigners mix it with whatever we can get our hands on- Powerade, sea-weed soup, anything to mask the before-during-and aftertaste that it presents. But whether the locals have lost all taste-sensation or genuinely have only 3 minutes to swig a brew before resuming work, they down the stuff like appletizer.
My first exposure, nay, encounter with the toxin was during my weekend in Daechon beach with a crowd of Saffa's that had heard of my desperate quest to meet another white face and had sympathetically invited me to join them. I was a bit weary of the mob since it was clear that they had stumbled once or twice in their screening process of acquiring mates, and had subsequently allowed a Kiwi named Damo dogtooth Smith into their tribe. More distressing though was how a Yank called Sam (think Dave from Flight of the concords), had become a pivotal cog in the team and even a Canadian called himself part of the troop. It was clear that they were charitable.
Upon meeting them, I picked up a distinct reverence for Soju almost immediately. I was warned to start on beer, which was sold in 1.6l plastic bottles at every convenience store and called Cass Light. The American's had certainly left their mark. After a Boeri that was heavenly despite being braai'd by a UCT/Rhodes team, the drinking games led to a couple bottles of Soju. The stuff is also deceptive in the way it only reveals its effects after a fair number of bottles have been devoured, proof that it must contain cane. I felt strong on the way out to town, but also sensed the familiar old feeling of anticipating the fall- and knowing that the damage is done. All there is to do now is wait….
When motor functions began to fail I knew that the Soju was to blame. And when the torrential downfall began to feel like fairy dust, I knew that there was something sinister about that little green bottle. Fortunately I was rescued once again from being "that guy", because Sam-the-yank had been driven by the potion to leap down 2 flights of stairs. We found him out cold, blood pouring from a head-wound that Brad Thorne would have been proud of. It was tough and also frustrating not to be able to sober up in a typical sober-up-moment. I was shouting out orders like, "bring a goddam gurny", that probably sounded more like, "god damn you gerti!". The Koreans were confused. Luckily we had a couple of " we drink so much" Rhodents who actually did seem to have a disturbing tolerance of the Soju potion and acted fast to get Sam to the hospital. I honestly thought he was dead. Dronk vir driet was another spinoff that the Soju offered. When we reached the hospital the Koreans showed their skills and rushed Sam into the OR with impressive speed and skill. They had obviously been training for this and I knew that when the Olympic committee finally buckled and allowed stretcher racing into the Games- it would be a one-horse race. Tears and prayers gradually turned to a photo shoot when the message was relayed that he would be fine, and that 22 staples would sort him out. A strange kind of celebratory beer pong game broke out in the car park, and it was becoming blatant to all by my dismal hand-eye coordination that I was a first-timer with SOJU. I suspect teams were 5's alive'ing it to not have me on their team- but I felt like a rock star and I guess that's what counts.
NB tip – Check out what Soju does to Koreans at www.blackoutkorea.com
