Chai Pilgrimage

Walking in the sweltering mid-morning sun on our way to the SitaRam temple, we were lured into a chai stand by a pair of smiling brown eyes beaming out from under a simple tarp-covered stall. As we sat down on the low bench, Jai Ram, the chai wallah, attempted to touch our feet, a gesture of profound reverence usually reserved for holy swamis or Bramins, members of the highest social caste. Considering ourselves casteless and on equal footing, we quickly slid our feet out of the way. Once again we were humbled by the custom of treating the guest as God.

Jai Ram is a vendor of chai, pan, cigarettes, Parle G’s and miscellaneous snacks. Just as we ordered our chais, the dudh wallah (milkman) pulled up on his bicycle, weighted down with metal canisters, to deliver the day’s fresh milk. As seems common in Chitrakoot, Jai Ram makes his chai with adrak (ginger), peeling it first, then smashing it with a weight on his wooden platform held up by bricks. Ginger acts as a diaphoretic, meaning it can make you sweat, which has the effect of cooling down the body. After the ginger simmered in with the milk, water, tea and sugar, he smashed up two green cardamom pods and added them to the mixture.

As the chai bubbled, he gazed intently into the pot, as though empowering it with a prayer. He gave his whole self to preparing our chai, every movement deliberate and graceful. Each hand gesture was like a secret chai wallah mudra. As we watched him slowly pour the milk or twirl the pot or spoon in the sugar, it was as if we sat before a temple priest making offerings to God.

In proper tea fashion not typical of chai stalls, Jai Ram strained our chai into a metal teapot, and then poured it into our glasses atop a decorative serving platter. As he served us, he bowed his head and again tried to touch our feet. Again we pulled our feet back and bowed.

We sipped our chai slowly to enjoy Jai Ram’s company and take respite from the heat. Our conversation was sparse, after only a few weeks of Hindi lessons, but so much was said in the silence. It was quite a tasty cup of masala chai. It reminded me of home. Jenny gave one of the Ganesh cards she painted to Jai Ram as a gift. He smiled, held it to his head and placed it on his altar next to images of Sita, Ram and Hanuman.

Click link below to hear chai call!
train platform chai callllllll

You wake up into a dream somewhere in the middle of India. The rhythmic rocking back and forth that first lulled you to sleep is suddenly disrupted by the high-pitched screeching of metal against metal and a jerking halt — almost throwing you out of your bunk — followed by doors banging, cold wind blowing and the frantic sound of ‘foreign’-speaking travelers fighting to get on and off the train. Then, an echoing chorus of baritone voices all singing the same repetitive two-syllable melody, “chai-ee, chai-eeeee, chai-eeeeeee!” weave together into a cacophonous symphony cutting through all the other noise.

The dream blends into reality as your eyes open to the blurry vision of a steaming aluminum teakettle and a bucket of clay cups attached to a dark skinny man behind a thick black mustache moving up the isle. You are not dreaming. Desperately fishing your tired fingers through pockets wrapped up in a twisted sleeping bag, you finally procure 4 rupees and return the call, “Ji, ek chai!” One chai, sir! You meet eyes as he navigates through the luggage-laden throng to your bedside.

With pointed awareness, he pours a dark, thick stream of chai into a small clay cup, raising the pot as he pours, for a frothy finish, without spilling a drop. He places the hot cup in your welcoming hands, warming your fingers and dampening your face with tea-perfumed moisture. The earthen cup touches your dry lips and the sugary, spiced chai rolls over your tongue, awakening your taste buds, slowly spilling warmth across your throat and down through the center of your chest into your stomach, warming you to the core. Ahhhhhhh, yes. All the painstaking travel has just paid off again with another perfect cup of Indian chai.

There’s a gazillion ways to make masala chai. Once you get the hang of it, you can create customized blends depending on your personal taste, the time of day, or the occasion. We like a thick, milky chai for breakfast. For kids, a “chai-less masala chai,” that is, everything but the black tea, can be a healthy treat. For your lover, sweeten it with maple syrup, spice it up with cinnamon and adorn with saffron – mmmmm.

Chai formulas can change with the seasons, too. On a hot summer day, throw in some cooling coriander seeds or even fresh mint – but forget about the cloves and black pepper. In the winter, if you are sick with a cold, flu or congestion, make a warming, gingery batch. The masala chai tradition began this way centuries ago with grandmothers using spice decoctions as home remedies – later tea was added.

Everyone can enjoy chai. Even if you don’t drink black tea or milk or use sugar, you can substitute herbal teas like rooibos, milk alternatives like soy or rice milk and natural sweeteners such as maple syrup, sucanat or licorice root. There are endless combinations and nuances. In upcoming posts, we will offer insight into traditional and non-traditional ingredients, various preparation techniques, health value of the spices and tips we picked up in our travels. We hope this will enhance your appreciation for chai as you experiment and evolve with your own creative chai-making. Here is a simple recipe to get you started, in case you’ve never prepared your own masala chai.

5 cups water
1/4 cup loosely packed, grated fresh ginger
1” cinnamon stick
1 cup organic whole milk
1/4 cup raw sugar (like Sucanat)
10 green cardamom pods
4 tsp. loose Assam tea (or 4 tea bags)

makes 5 8-ounce cups

——————————————-

Pour water into pot and put over high heat.
Grate fresh ginger with a cheese grater and add to pot.
Break cinnamon stick, add to pot and stir.
Reduce heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes.
Thoroughly grind cardamom pods in a mortar and pestle or spice/coffee grinder.
Add milk, sugar and cardamom to the masala and stir.
Increase heat and bring to a boil, then remove from heat.
Add tea, stir and cover.
Steep tea for 3-5 minutes depending on desired potency, then immediately strain into separate pot to avoid over-steeping.

Click on image above to view text larger, or read below…

Chai means “tea” throughout most of India. In West Bengal it is called cha, in Nepal – chyaa. The Hindi word chai, derived from the Mandarin Chinese word cha, refers to the black, green, oolong or other types of tea, all made through different processing methods from the same Camellia sinensis plant. Next to water, chai, or tea, is the world’s most consumed beverage.

In the West, “chai” refers to what in India is called masala chai. Masala means spice mixture. Masala chai is black tea brewed with spices like ginger and cardamom along with water, milk and sugar. In Nepal and India, chai is made in fresh batches and drank in almost every home. Each family has their own traditional way of making it. On every street there are open-air chai stalls where Chai wallahs, or chai vendors, serve chai in small glasses or clay cups. It is a part of daily life – morning chai, afternoon chai and chai any time with friends or visitors. Most any gathering or transaction involves sitting down and sharing a small cup of chai. It is the commodity of friendship.

Chai : the word for tea in the Indian subcontinent; in the West, it generally refers to a beverage made with black tea, spices, milk and sugar (called masala chai in India).
Pilgrimage : a long, often difficult, spiritual journey to a sacred place to fill the soul with faith and love for the Divine.

Chai Pilgrimage : a spiritual pilgrimage fueled by chai where we constantly stumbled over the feet of God; a multi-media book and website inspired by the human connectedness that occurs each time we share a cup of tea.