Scan Magazine

By Ben Kersley’s

Kirgsley is Sweden’s only Swinglish stand up comedian.

‘Snus?’. The Swede opposite me waved a miniature teabag in my face. I was young and naïve and keen to try new experiences, but I wasn’t sure whether he was expecting me to boil up a thimble of water and fetch a tiny drop of milk so we could have a teeny-weeny tea party.

He popped the teabag into his mouth. ‘This is snus,’ he said proudly as though revealing the secret of all things Swedish.

This was snus, the dark sticky oral tobacco that is widely used in Sweden and one of the few things that Swedes are prepared to get really passionate about. In 1994, snus and the freedom to snus (yes, it’s a noun and a verb) was the single most important issue for Sweden on joining the EU.

Spend more than a couple of days in Sweden and you soon learn that the small tobacco-filled teabag, or worse, loose snus, is shoved under the upper lip while the snuser ruminates. This can lead to confusion: Sitting opposite a Swede in a pub, you are never quite sure if they are orthodontically challenged or if brown teeth and the protruding muzzle are down to a snus habit. It’s only when they excuse themselves (or not) to spit tobacco onto the floor that you can be certain.

Snus| Photo: courtesy of Török Gábor (nyuhuhuu) | CC License

To the outsider, the habit might seem like a rustic practice, but snus is used more widely than cigarettes. There are special fridges to store the little packets and even paraphernalia such as ‘portioners’ to take snus surreptitiously without getting fingers covered in tobacco, supposedly adding a whole level of snus sophistication.

Maybe my heart wasn’t in it, but my one young, naïve taste of snus was enough to put me off it for life. So if ever you sit opposite me in a pub in Sweden and wonder if my teeth are rotten, I guarantee it’s not snus. I’m English, after all. SNUS