So one unscrewed the warn, old plastic red lid of this overused, glass, cylindrical container and dropped a few health leaves into the festively patterned glass.
The dry leaves smelt of musty sweet floral. A promising sign.
Hot water from a beaten up, old aluminium thermos is poured into the glass, embracing the leaves of various colours of browns and greens still clinging to stems.
One waits a while then gently blows the floating unfurrowing leaves, making a path in which to sip the liquid from the glass.
The sweet result embraces the mouth leaving behind nearly no astringency but a pleasant musty, foggy, earthy-floral aftertaste. The taste isn't strong but carries a certain gentleness to it.
The flavour of this tea is true to its home. It tastes similar to the way the earthy-musty fog smelt in the village of Korman just hours ago. When one drinks this tea one is back there- high in the mountains in the foggy tribal village once again.