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It's impossible to progress easily through the dense, flooded English jungle, and the monkeys bite. In a clearing, cold and wet, I find a cabin where three brothers live. I'm invited inside to dry off a while. The first brother sits atop the stove, squatting in a pan on the flames and around his calloused feet chunks of meat fry. He cuts them up and stuffs them into his mouth as he does a little dance. The second brother is boiling teeth. When the liquid is thick he pulls hair through it and combs it onto his head, looking in a grimy mirror all the time. The old, soft teeth he squeezes droplets out of and saves in a dish. 'Where's your other brother?' I ask. 'Oh, he's around, he's around!' they laugh.

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