Milk

This morning was an adventure neither Sonu (Wayne) nor I had ever embarked on previously: getting fresh milk. Let me start by saying that milk is not sold in supermarkets here. If you want milk, you have to get it from one of many guys riding on motorcycles who yell out, "PAAL" [milk] and ring a bell to alert you that they're soon going to be in front of your yard gate. It's either that or own and milk a cow yourself. Those are your options. So, eager enough to incorporate a bit more calcium and protein into our diet, we set our alarm for 6 a.m. to meet the milk man. Stainless steel pot in hand (we didn't have another container), we headed downstairs to the front gate to wait. Ironically, if the milk man's late you have to wait on him--which we did, for about 15 minutes--but if you're late, too bad. He moves on.Thankfully, we didn't miss him. When he came, he doled out a liter of whole milk from the large, steel vessel on the back of his bike, using a big steel cup. We paid him 50 Rupees, or approximately a dollar, then headed back upstairs to continue the process. The milk we get, all milk for that matter, is unpasteurized, which means retrieving the milk is step one. Next we boiled it for about 5 minutes, then allowed it to cool. Finally, we must skim off the "skin" from the top, which we save to fry later to make "ghee," a clarified, butter-like product. Now, our still-hot milk is ready to drink, use, or refrigerate. Pitchers are hard to come by here, so I stored the milk in an old, clean glass honey jar and stuck it in the fridge. Today our milk was "stringy," for lack of a better description, which Sonu's mom says means it was new milk. Still trying to figure that one out, but glad for a boost in calcium nonetheless. Next time you go to grab a store-bought gallon of pre-pasteurized milk, we hope that maybe it'll serve as a small reminder for you to pray for us and the ministry God has given us here!