Recently, I went to Gyokusendo ("Gee-yo Kuu Shendo" -- accent on the first syllable "Gee-yo"), otherwise known as "Okinawa World", where I learned about the Habu and Cobra snakes. This place has a lot of culture to it with Eisa dancers, craft demonstrations, old Okinawan homes, and more. But seeing the snake demonstration was probably the best part of this daylong cultural experience. The Cobra, as it turns out, can only strike in an area roughly just in front of its head; the Habu can strike anywhere in a 360 degree range, even if it's not facing you!
The demonstration was first with the Cobra, which was brought out of a container and unceremoniously dumped on the floor of a stage. This snake was about 5 feet in front of me on the stage platform. It looked harmless enough until the attendant got it to flare and hiss, and it hissed a lot, and now it looked dangerous! The whole time it was hissing and had its neck flared, its eyes were focused on the attendant's boot. It certainly was within striking range but it never did strike at the boot, it just hissed and stared. Amazingly, twice during this time, the attendant reached around behind the cobra and, patted it on the back of its head. No way did it see his hand coming. It was more or less 'boot focused' the whole time. Thus, I now understand about the striking area of this snake - they can only strike if they are facing their target. Best, then, to approach them from behind if possible.
The Habu is a little different, well, very different. After the cobra-patting episode, the attendant puts the cobra away and brings out a Habu and more carefully puts it on the same platform. This snake was about 4.5 feet long with a triangular head and haunting eyes. The attendant basically held it by its tail with the snake 'wand' near its head. He was very careful not to let it coil or get away from him. With the cobra, he seemed a bit more relaxed. After more or less showing the audience this snake, he put it down and pinned its head to the floor with his snake ‘wand' and then picked it up.
It was time to 'milk' the snake and milk it he did - lots of white venom dripped on the floor and he exposed the fangs - long. Next, after putting this snake back into a container, he wheeled out what could be best described as a large, dry aquarium with a plastic wall in the center. Another Habu lay coiled in this glass container on the other side of the clear plastic divider in the center.
The attendant's attendant then comes out with a long pole onto which are attached two balloons, one with cold water in it and the other with hot water. He sticks it out at me since I'm in the first row and asks me something. I hold both balloons and jiggle them a bit, not knowing what to do. He asks me again something and I say, "Wakarimasen" or "I don't understand." I say that a lot. He looks at me further and basically says, and, remarkably, I understood this: "What don't you understand?" Then, he moves the pole with the two balloons to a little girl next to me and asks her the same question. Her response after she touches the balloon with the hot water: "Atsui" or "it is hot." He then comes back to me and asks me the same question again which I now understand was apparently a question about the temperature of the balloons. So, since I often learn from the younger generation, in this case, my seatmate, I point to the one with hot water and say "Atsui" like a pro. He then points to the other one, which had cold water in it and says the word for "Cold" in Japanese, and I repeated the word for him. The audience, mostly of Japanese, clapped politely and took the impromptu Japanese language lesson in stride
But why the balloons, snake and Japanese lesson? The answer was soon evident when he took the two balloons and dangled them in front of the Habu snake in the aquarium tank after the other attendant removed the clear plastic divider. The snake looked at both and struck the hot water-filled balloon. And strike it did; all too quickly for me. Literally, the snake hit the balloon in less than a fraction of a second. Of course, the balloon broke with a 'bang' and the snake got all wet, but the point was made - this is a snake that will quickly strike at 'warm' things, like 'us' and balloons filled with hot water.
In other words, I'd rather run into a cobra any day than come across a Habu. The cobra will flare and hiss and have to look you in the eye before striking; the Habu will strike without warning. Both are dangerous snakes but at least I know that the cobra can be my friend provided I'm behind it. At least a rattlesnake warns you as does a Cobra. Not the Habu - it strikes first and answers questions later.
So, at this cultural center, they have a lot of stuff for sale, including Sake. Typically, in Dept. stores and liquor stores on the street, vendors will let you taste their Sake before you buy and this place was no exception. As I walked around the corner on my way to the Eisa ("Aay-sa" the "A" is a long "A") dance and music show, a lady in a store that sells Sake offered me a small cup of Sake to taste. So I tasted it with a little water, which is how its done here – the taste was slightly sweet; actually rather nice Sake. Then I asked her what it was. She said it was "Habu-sake".
Oh, my God, I realized I had tasted the snake! This is the Sake that I've seen where a dead Habu snake is in the bottle, believe it or not. I actually was worried about it and so went into the restaurant after the Eisa show for a draft beer and some food. I thought that if I were going to get sick over the enzymes and whatever else that may have been in the Sake, I might as well get sick on a full stomach! Fortunately, nothing happened.
To be clear, I think making Sake out of a snake is a waste of a perfectly good snake. But here, they make a lot of things out of the Habu snake (Japanese style guitars, watch bands, key bracelets, health powders, plus the special Sake), so there must be a lot of them around since no one seems concerned about this peculiar use of a snake. It still bothers me a bit but I'll adjust to it. I suppose I'm actually "double" bothered: killing the snake for liquor and the fact that there must be a lot of snakes out there to kill. I don't care to encounter one outside of some museum or cultural center.
Oh, and the Eisa dancers were wonderful!