tea on a rainy
night, milky sweet; i smell wet
himalayan pines
Tag Archives: murree christian school
murree monsoon: a suite
the clouds hang silent
ensconcing wood and village
a mountain monsoon
within the dimness,
a cicada cries, lonely
like the call to prayer
outside dripping dark;
inside our ovaltine and
braving of cold sheets
bright fog after rain;
we stand on the bridge watching
the cataract roar
Some Striking Photography from a Friend
-“Morning Glory” by Barry Sherbeck
Barry and I both went to Murree Christian School, though he was several grades above. We have become better friends over photography and Facebook. After winning my first photography contest, he now helps judge them.
-“Trees upon a pond” taken with the iPhone by Barry Sherbeck
Today, I was looking at his Flickr photostream and was impressed again with the quality of his work. Check it out. Of particular interest to me this viewing was the amazing photos he takes with his iPhone. I had at least one iPhone photo submitted to my last contest, and perhaps Barry’s work here can be an inspiration for you iPhoneistas out there to get creative instead of just taking taking party pics to post on Facebook. I jest, but jest barely 
-“Pushpin Reunion” taken with the iPhone by Barry Sherbeck
Milk Leaf aka Dud Pati
“Dud pati” (which is not pronounced “dud” as in “milk dud” and “patty” as in “cow patty,” but rather with soft “d’s” and a “th” sound in “pati”) is a Punjabi phrase which is literally translated “milk leaf.” I like that, but then again the word “leaf” in just about any phrase makes it pleasing to me. At any rate, dud pati is a form of what we now in America know as chai. [On a sidenote, saying "chai tea" is actually rather redundant as "chai" simply means tea, so "chai tea" is just "tea tea," but I get why people do it]. To make dud pati one literally takes straight milk and adds tea leaves and sugar and boils it into a froth and then pours it into a strainer to serve in cups or glasses. I generally do add a little water, to cut the richness. Even so, dud pati, even when hot can get a skin like in the picture above. One can add cardamom, but it tastes pretty fantastic straight too.
Across from my boarding school for missionary children in Pakistan, was a dinghy little tea shop in which they made sweet, sweet dud pati, where they kept the tea boiling, straining it with a massive strainer for the mounds of soggy tea leaves. A successful day in school was when our class could convince one or more teachers to buy the entire class tea. Real success was when we could first convince them to go sit outside and sit in the Himalayan sun, trying to attend, waiting for the tea shop boy to bring his tray balanced with a kettle and cups.
An Article About Pakistan, Thrift, Abundance, Injustice, Sloppy Joes, and a Loving Heart
-photo by mashriqi_boy
The photo above well illustrates a portion of a story my friend Sophie Blanc wrote for the most recent issue of catapult. The picture is of “Landa Bazaar” in Peshawar, Pakistan, but which has its equivalent in every Pakistani city. Does that first word sound familiar to you? The first syllable “lan” rhymes with “bun.” Yes, “London” it is, which is a sort of colonial stand-in for whatever Western country from which the cast-off clothes came in the first place. Now I understand where my love of thrift stores came from! I once got this great dark, blue wool cardigan with an argyle pattern from the very city, Jhelum, in which Sophie lived in Pakistan…but I digress.
Sophie’s article brings back so many vivid memories of my childhood in Pakistan and Murree Christian School, made all more the poignant by the great trial Pakistan is undergoing just now (please pray, if you are a pray-er). Her story depicts the very real deprivations of living as a child of missionaries, and then drills down deeper and considers the relative abundance missionaries often have compared to the people they serve. Finally, it ends with a cameo of a lovely, loving heart, which I shall not spoil for you.
I appreciate every bit of reflection in this piece, however my favorite part, which may seem rather trivial, is a depiction of time and place, which only people who have shared in it can fully, immersively “see” and re-experience. And, yet, anyone can get the lovely sense of sweet memory, which hopefully is an experience we all have from time to time. Oh, and Sophie also has a very fine blog. Check it out!
I remember the joyous feeling of going up to the dining room with money in my pocket to get a sloppy joe (bolognaise mince meat in a hamburger bun). The taste of sloppy joes in that particular room at that particular time on those particular plates will probably never be able to be recreated. The sweetish taste Pakistani buns, the tang of the mince meat, the sauce dripping everywhere only to be mopped up with the last bits of bun. Incredibly satisfying.
