This is part of an ongoing series in which Seattle duo Brain Fruit travel through India, Istanbul, and Berlin. You can find all the previous entries here. —Eds.
I'm sitting at a restaurant one evening in Varanasi and spy the item "special lassi" on the menu. Upon inquiry our suspicions are confirmed that it's indeed the infamous bhang lassi. Of course I decide that it's an experience I need to have while I'm here, so I order a paneer kafka, some roti, and a special lassi. When it arrives, I realize that I essentially ordered a brick of fried cheese and a weed milkshake. All items are consumed and we settle down to play some music for the evening (Garrett had purchased a classical guitar and I had borrowed an Indian Tamboura from a local shop). NOTHING HAPPENS. Are my THC receptors broken? Flash forward to the next morning 6 am.
We'd awakened early to take a boat trip on the Ganges (details to follow) and I felt like crap. Upon returning from the 90-minute boat trip, I felt worse. I book it up about 200 stairs from the waterfront toward our hostel. Towards the top I can feel my mouth water—I have about 20 seconds. Somehow I managed to run up two more flights of stairs, unlock our room, not hit my head on the 5-foot tall bathroom door, and viciously slam dunk the entire contents of my stomach into the filthy toilet. Observe:
It took me about 2 days until I could eat properly and currently even thinking about the taste of Indian cheese makes me nauseous. It's safe to say that may be the last lassi I drink for a very long time.
Bhang Lassi: Yogurt milkshake made with weed powder.
Result: Inside-out stomach and a day of extreme digestive pain.
Resolution: Never again.