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Downtown in Rangoon, in the shade of the palm trees, in front of the mirrors and the fans of a teahouse, a phlegmatic Burmese is making a fruit shake. The blade slides slowly, peeling without waste. The pulp gives in without any effort: the weight of the knife seems to be enough. He throws it into a mortar, with a block of ice, and without using blades, plastic or current, he grinds it with patience, with pestle blows.
A fruit shake in Rangoon is like the quiet street, the shade of the foliage, the colonial teahouse. It's more than a drink, of a cool spray on the afternoon: it's a throbbing atmosphere, a complete experience.Rangoon, Burma, autumn 2002
Photo "Papaya" by Flowery Luza (CC), from flickr
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