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On a very wet day during the monsoon season in Rishikesh, India I was invited to sit under a bridge near the rapidly rising and ferociously moving Ganga to drink Chai with the local flower-selling children. During most of the year they lived on the now drowning beach, but once the rains come they set up camp beneath the overhangs. They were humble and happy... and the chai, which was made over a fire of dried out Ganga driftwood, was the most uniquely delicious Indian chai i've ever had.
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