Show Us that Betel Nut Smile

While a coffee or cigarette habit might leave a stain on your teeth, that dull yellow hue is nothing compared to the effect of the betel nut. The juice produced while chewing this mild stimulant can lead to red, or even black, teeth. As a result, most urban young people in East and South Asia refrain from the age-old habit, opting for vices like smoking which do not do so much damage to outward appearances until later in life. But for older people and some country-folk, the tradition of chewing continues.

But what does betel nut (also called areca nut) do for you? Aside from having important symbolism in many cultures (it is often used at weddings as a sign of love and longevity), it provides a buzz similar to drinking an espresso. Though the nut, which is often chewed wrapped in a betel leaf, is natural, it has been linked to cancer in several medical studies.

With the sheer number of pictures of betel nut chewers smiling, one might think that perhaps the health risks and tooth discoloration are worth it. Though the U.S. has tried to control the import of betel with heavy taxes, it is still available in many Asian grocery stores.

A Keyhole into Burma – Betel nut chewing, it’s as gross as it looks

Initially, I was convinced that there was a nationwide dental crisis in Burma. People everywhere, men and women, had deeply stained reddish-brown teeth with gums so ostensibly diseased that even the lips and chin suffered discoloration. Unable to ignore this any longer, I inquired about the epidemic and was subsequently school on the revolting art of chewing betel nut.

Betel nut chewing is a wildly popular Burmese habit, with all the outward appeal of chewing tobacco (but messier), having the general effect of a cup of coffee. The exact origins of this appetite killing habit are in question, but in places like India, it’s been nauseating visitors for thousands of years. I located one vague mention of betel nut in a Burmese book indicating that it’s been in vogue locally from royalty on down for at least 150 years.

There’s a betel stand on virtually every street corner, usually consisting of just a tiny table with all the ingredients laid out and a very wired up, and presumably eternally single, guy with red drool down his chin preparing the chews. A few tiny pieces of betel are set in a leaf, along with lime paste, and tobacco. There’s a betel-for-girls as well, where the tobacco is replaced with a sweet flavoring. The whole mess is wrapped up in the leaf like a tiny burrito and popped into the mouth as is.

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In addition to being faced with a disagreeable betel smile hundreds of time a day, non-chewers also have to take care as to where they step as the streets and sidewalks are one giant betel spittoon. Never mind the sanctity of your footwear, one needs to dodge these minefields of fresh, red/brown goo so as not to sully the lobby floor of one’s guesthouse.

Leif Pettersen, originally from Minneapolis, Minnesota, contributed three stories to the upcoming anthology “To Myanmar (Burma) With Love: A Connoisseur’s Guide” published by Things Asian Press. His personal blog, Killing Batteries, and his staggeringly vast travelogue could fill a lifetime of unauthorized work breaks, if one were so inclined.