TELEPORTION

I was cleaning the kitchen table-- not a trivial matter when you consider it hasn't been excavated in weeks, and it's around 40 square feet of surface-- and came upon a bamboo tea caddy. Wondering whether anything was in it, I unscrewed the top, and spilled out some dark, crisp woody tea leaves. I stuck my nose in, and sniffed and
Was instantly transported to a remoter than remote Laotian village in January about five years ago. It was cold in the morning, and damp and grey. The roosters had been making steady racket since maybe 3:30, and sleep had been a challenge. In a raised pole hut with no walls, just a railing to keep the family's small children from accidentally falling to the ground below, the night time temperature was probably in the low 40s. A bunch of villagers and the village head man had caroused past midnight, the floor under the sleeping bag was hard, and animals both domestic and wild seemed to be trying out for some sort of animal noise competition.
So when morning officially came and the fire was started and some water boiled, we were all ready for tea. Stiff, chilled and groggy, we huddled around the fire and made tea, a dark and smoky brew, Green Parrot Brand, imported from Vietnam but ubiquitous in Laos (and something we had never encountered while actually in Vietnam itself). There is tea, and then there is TEA and this stuff is the latter. Just the thing to get one's engine started on a chilly morning in the jungle a long way from anywhere...
And then I was back in my kitchen, looking down at the tea and shaking my head and it was Maine and it was now. And, I thought, it was just about time for a nice pot of tea...