Adapting to the heat

No one can tell you it's not going to be hot in Rajasthan. Where I am is 45kms from the Great Thar desert, in a semi-arid region. It's hot. I arrived here in at the beginning of April which is when the heat really gets going. Come monsoon in the middle of June the rains bring some relief, but it will become humid, and the cool only really begins in November. Coping with the 40 degree heat on a daily basis has become engrained in my lifestyle. When I go out, the activities I do and when I work best is all governed by the temperature.

I wake up at around 6am. The electricity goes off at 5am so by 6 the room has started to heat up. I'm normally asleep by 10pm so still get my 8 hours even when I wake up so early. It's funny to think that back in Bristol I would beg Rob not to set the alarm for 6.30am because it felt so early. My new mother wakes up at 4am to milk the cows and start cooking the vegetables for breakfast. She said last week that she was annoyed at her eldest daughter for sleeping in until 7.30am! Anyway, if I'm feeling good I quickly get washed and dressed into my Indian themed running wear, which I'm sure is inappropiate consisting of salwars, a t-shirt and my karrimor trekking shoes. I have to walk to the edge of the village so that the rabid dogs don't get excited and decide to chase me then I run 2.5kms to the Jungle Shelter, essentially a concrete roof which was set up as a meeting point on the boundary between two villages. I wash my mouth out with water from the hand well, being careful not to swallow it, then run the same distance back home usually thinking about how dusty and dry the air is. As a strange running foreigner I attract attention from the locals and some boy envitably comes up to me and says "you are running madam". "Yes" I say.


By the time I get home it's 7am and the sun is coming up fast. I do some yoga outside my room to stretch after my run then go and sit with the family by the cooking area for some chai, being careful to sit in the shade. Then it's usually time for some clothes washing, or general phaffing in my room, some breakfast and a nice bucket shower before I begin work at 9.30am ish. In India the key word for arranging to do something is always 'ish', you get used to it. If the electricity, and therefore the air conditioning doesn't come on until 11am, it's a sweaty couple of hours but at least my brain still functions. Air conditioning, when the plug doesn't blow up or the electricity doesn't cut out, is my saviour. Luckily my desk is quite close to the wonderful machine so I feel pleasantly cooled and am able to crack on with work. 1pm and it's lunch and I rush to the almeree (food storage cupboard) to grab my tiffin box and rush back to my room, turn on the cooler and fan and sit at my desk eating lunch and reading something. The real treat comes when I get to lie on my bed, read and have a quick nap. I dreamt of day time nappiing in my last job and I'm living the dream!


Back to work but I know by 4pm, or perhaps before, the electricity would have gone and for those two hours between 4pm and 6pm when I leave the office my brain will slow and my productivity level will drop right down. And this is a good day. Sometimes the power goes at 2pm so the whole afternoon is spent in a hot office with no relief. I couldn't count the number of emails I send home with updates on whether the power is on and the AC is working at that particular moment. I'm told alot of the power comes from hydroelectic, and as there hasn't been much water in the last couple of years, not only is there severe water shortages but there's limited power too. We are incredibly lucky to have our own well with fresh, clean water pumped from deep within the ground to our taps. In Jaipur women fight to have access to the government water aid trucks, and the mains water only comes on in the morning for a couple of hours and perhaps only gives 20 litres per house.


6pm and I drop my things off in my room and go and sit with my family around the cooking area again being careful to sit in the shade. Perhaps I'll go and look at the cows and play with my new favourite friend, a cute 2 year old girl called Sumni who calls me Didi, meaning big sister. 7pm and it's dinner time, the temperature is quite pleasant and the power comes on around 7.15pm, so after dinner I take my cup of freshly boiled milk to my room, turn on the cooler and fan and enjoy the cool, albeit a very noisy, wind tunnel sounding cool. By bed time sleep comes easily. In the early hours it's cool enough to have a blanket on.

My new family say they are surprised how well I'm adapting to the new climate, the heat and a new environment. So how do I survive the heat? I try not to go outside during the day, I take things easy and I dream of the winter when I'll have to wear a jumper. If I do have to spend a day in the open, I make sure my head and neck are covered with a big white cotton cloth which is a village essential here, wear sunscreen and obviously make sure I drink lots of water. It's a dry heat here, and I knew I was good with desert heat, much better than the humid heat you find in South East Asia. I've almost done one month and each successful day does feel like an achievement. It won't be long until the cool, when we'll be thinking of heaters not coolers, knit wear not the thinest cotton you can find.

Party wear, dress shopping and child marriage

Last week my new aunty and cousin (Akshear) plotted to dress me up in my aunty's 'party wear'. So at the agreed time of 8.30am I went up to their room ready to be covered in Rajput clothes and jewellery. First it was on with the blue and pink sequined skirt, or ghaghara, then the matching crop top type thing covered with a blouse. The top part of the outfit is known as the choli. Rajasthani women wear a 4 metre length of cloth called an odhni tucked into their skirt and draped across their right shoulder. This is used as a veil, both to sheild their faces from the sun, and from men. On a trip out of the house, a young Rajasthani will almost always have her face covered by her odhni. I had a matching pink one to put on.

Lipstick was smeared on my lips and eyelids, kohl powder under my eyes and a red bindi on my forehead. Red vermilion powder was applied carefully to my centre parting using a hair clip. This is the symbol of a married woman. I was laden with bangles on each wrist, and given a heavy gold necklace to wear, and gold, diamond and ruby earrings which looped over the top of my ears as well as dangling down. A rakhri, a circular piece of jewellery on a cotton thread was placed to hang down from my forehead and tied to my ponytail. A gold and diamond string in circular patterns was placed on top and tied around my head. Finally I was ready, and told to sit in a certain position on my aunty's bed with legs bent and one hand on top of the other. She wears this outfit and full jewellery for parties, and has much heavier dresses to wear on special occassions like weddings. 25 photos later and I was done, and the hour provided me with some entertainment and insight into the traditions of the Rajput lady before it was time to get to the office and do some work.

Sunday is my day off, and yesterday I caught the local bus to Kishangarh, a small city about 45kms away from Laporiya in Ajmer District. Mama and her daughter Laxmi took me to do some fabric shopping so I could have my own cholis, ghaghara and odhnis made, although mine were to be from cotton and much less ornate than the party dress I'd tried on. The bus was how you imagine all buses in India to be like. Only around half the bus had seats and in every spare space there were people squeezed in and men hanging out the open door. Everytime a woman got on, a seat was made available to her and it seemed a jovial atmosphere. Laxmi said afterwards, "Everyone was talking about you on the bus and you don't mind?". I'm an oddity to them and I'm sure they are wondering what I'm doing on a village bus with a Rajput lady, commenting on my clothes, my jewellery and the fairness of my skin. I don't know what they are saying about me, but I accept I will be talked about, smile alot at people and hope for the best. There's not much else I can do!

Mama knew the best shop to go to for bangles, the best for jewellery and the best for Rajput material. The fabric shop was packed full of ladies sitting on the floor and examining the cloths the shop assistant had pulled out for them. Shelves were laden high with material in a bright spectrum of colours, mostly pinks, reds and yellow in keeping with the Rajasthani look.


Mama kept saying I was a big size so needed 7 metres of fabric for a skirt and top because of my height. The normal is 5 metres. Therefore I had only three patterns to choose from in my abnormally huge size, and chose two. Once the skirt pattern had been chosen it was time to find suitable material for extra tops and the odhnis (scarves). In India when you go clothes shopping the assistants have pretty strong ideas about the colour combinations you should go for, and what match. One young boy showed me fabric for an odhni which apparentley was very new and in vogue and because of it's green, orange and pink striped tie-dye effect would go with any ghaghara. Every time he held up my two chosen skirt materials as evidence of the perfect match, all i could do is laugh in disbelief and think how it couldn't match any less. So I had to dissapoint the helpful sales assistant and Mama, and go for the dull plain tops. See photos to make your own mind up about the colour combinations.


Then it was off to the petticoat fabric shop, run by a retired army man in an old Haveli. It was filled with different coloured plain fabrics for very cheap prices. I bought a few metres of plain white cotton to cover my head and neck when on field trips, which is essential to survive the heat. The man took a shine to me and said I was his daughter. He showering me with gifts- a wall tidy thing, a strip of bright patterned fabric and half a towel. I imagined getting half a towel as a gift in England, but actually it will be perfect for weekends away. In a bid to pack light last weekend, I tried using a flannel as a towel and it wasn't really that effective. We stopped by a street trader on the way back to our car ride home and picked up some gold ribbon for the hems of my odhnis.

So I spent about £20 on material which will make me two skirts, four tops and three scarves. My boss' wife is a tailor so will stitch them up for about £1.50 per outfit. One thing I love about women going clothes shopping in India is that everyone gets to forget the housework and the cooking and become a designer for the day. Every outfit is tailored and customised to maximum effect. Colour combinations and clashes, material thickness and type, gold trim and jewellery are all minutely discussed and no two lady's outfits are the same. It provides a creativity that's hard to find in English clothes shopping, or one that comes at a high price back home. I think I'd like to put my sewing machine to good use and design my own clothes when I finally make it home.

And now for some more sobering reflections. I won't pretend I know a lot about child marriage but on Friday I was taken on a field trip with a few of the other staff to see some of GVNML's work in preventing child marriage and some of the good work they have done setting up resource centres for children in a successful school. With funding from Save The Children, books has been bought, public health leaflets laid out and children were encouraged to attend school by award winning teachers. I love the picture below because my two colleagues- Ramsharoop and Dasrat posed especially for it. They had been standing up but euthusiacially sat down and pretended to read with such intent. Today they proudly showed me a slide show they'd created to Hindi music with photos from the day.


Anyway, child marriage. A big issue here. I think I'm right in saying that villages in the Tonk district of Rajasthan have one of the highest rates of child marriage in India. We went to one village to talk to some of the children and theleaders and their families. Three of the children in the photo below are married- the boy fourth from the left and sitting at the front is 11 years old and has been married for three years. The girl on the left who must have been about 13 is also married, and the boy third from the left at the back. It seems that in this particular village it was proving difficult to convince parents not to arrange marriages for their children at a young age. The ratio of girl to boy babies is low in India, things are changing, but traditionally a female is not the desired sex for a newborn baby. This means families must find a match for their sons from the available girls and they get snapped up first. If there are two or three daughters in a family, to save money they get married in a group so some brides can be very young. It's the parents who carry on this tradition which has long been part of their lives and some are very reluctant to change their ways.


When young children are married, they usually live with their respective families until the girl reaches puberty, then she is brought to her husband's family home. They often lie together before this at family parties, and when they begin living together the girl soon falls pregnant. Jagveer said that it's generally thought a girl has problems if she hasn't had a child by the time she is 16. Usually it's 14 or 15 for the first child. The girl tends to give up school when she moves to her husband's house and instead gets involved in housework and helping to run the home. The boy, feeling that he is more man than child, thinks he must work to earn a living for his wife, so also gives up education and grows old before his time.

I'm sure there are a lot of factors surrounding the issue of child marriage and challenges in creating positive behaviour changes and I know I have just scratched the surface. There are places where GVNML have been more successful in creating changes to this practice. They educate the children in saying no to getting married young, and create model families declared 'child marriage free'. These families are honoured and given priority access to new development work in the village.

How to make Mama's chai

Chai is integral to Indian life, especially here in Laporiya, and from what I can work out, every cook has her (round here at least, it's usually a woman) own signature style of chai. Sanju, the office cook loves using lots of black pepper in her's, giving it a nice kick, whereas my new mum really goes all out for chini (sugar) leading to head rushes and gradual loss of teeth.

I've been here almost two weeks and still don't know how to make chai. In a bid for independance I asked Mama to show me the way. Remarkably she understood the word 'show' and was happy to abide.


Makes one cup

1. Take a medium saucepan and add half a cup of water and half a cup of milk.
2. Place on a medium to high heat and add 1 teaspoon of loose tea leaves.
3. Add sugar to taste. Mama would probably have put three teaspoons, I went for one.
4. Finely crush two dried cardoman pods in a pestel and mortar and add to the tea.
5. Once the mixure has heated through and starts to boil up, pour through a seive into your cup and serve.

Chai gets develops a thin skin almost instantly. Don't panic, just use your finger to move the skin to one side of the cup and enjoy.

The day CNEB came to Laporiya

On Friday I was woken at 5.45am by my boss, Jagveer, banging on my bedroom door. I rolled out of bed wondering what was happening now. I was told that a news channel was coming to Laporiya to film a piece about the environmental work GVNML are doing and when they’d found out a volunteer from England was living in the village, they wanted to interview me as well. I was to be ready in 10 minutes. Quickly washing and geting dressed into my best Kurta, I managed to knock back two cups of chai before they arrived in true Indian fashion one hour later. The CNEB contingent consisted of a slightly tubby cameraman who looked dishevelled and annoyed to be out of the comfort of city life, a suave interview/presenter guy, and a young driver/general skivvy.
At first they were in a real rush to get their filming done, marching around the village and creating mock situations to include on their news feature. I was made to throw seed up in the air to feed the birds and was put in the middle of a group of village men I’d never met before. In a place where the locals had pledged oaths not to harm the birds or trees, these two men were throwing stones into the tops of trees and shouting to try and catch on film the parrots flying off. I couldn’t help but enjoy it when they’d be trying to disturb the birds to no avail, and a few minutes later when the camera was off all the birds would fly across the landscape in what would have been a perfect shot.

The interviewer was convinced I had come to GVNML to do ‘research’. No, I kept explaining, I’m a volunteer, sent by VSO to support their work and help them with their communications, but when the camera started rolling his first question to me was “What research are you doing in Laporiya?” He went on to ask “How do you feel about Laporiya?”, “What do you think of the community here?” Bearing in mind I had only been living here one week and this was the first time I’d been allowed out into the village proper, I found the whole thing quite amusing. They kept saying “this is an emotion interview”, which I took to mean they weren’t that concerned with the facts.
Later we went out in the jeep with Laxman to see some of the choukas (part of the water management system), and he explained how they worked. In the photo Laxman is drawing a diagram in the sand to camera. Again, they asked me “How do you FEEL about the chouka system, what do you understand by it?” They told me to say I was impressed with it, so dredging up my English Heritage media training I did what they asked and gave quite a good interview I think. Apparently it was being aired on national tv last night. A fine way to celebrate my first week in Laporiya!

20 things you didn't know about my new life in Laporiya village

1. Laxman Singh's grandfather used to be King of Laporiya and a few other villages. I'm living with him and his extended family. They see themselves as members of the Rajput caste, one of the major Hindu warrior groups in India.
2. There are 150 different species of birds. Some are very rare, and it's because of GVNML's conservation programme these birds thrive here.
3. It's very hot in Rajasthan this time of year. In the nights I usually sleep on a day bed outside because my room is too hot. There's not much light pollution here so you can see all the stars.
4. My bedroom is just off a big courtyard and used to be a communal bathroom. It's completley tiled and still has lots of taps in it.
5. Indian toilets are not like the ones back home in England. I'm gradually getting the hang of them and have given up using toilet paper.
6. If I want a shower in the evening it's best to fill a bucket early in the morning, otherwise the water in the tank on the roof gets so hot during the day it's almost boiling.
7. Everyone who lives in Laporiya loves roti, they eat it three times a day normally with one or two vegetable dishes. There is no rice here and wheat is definitely the staple food.
8. My NGO, GVNML is working with a UK development agency called Wells for India. Through their funding GVNML have built lots of new wells in the surrounding villages and spread their innovative chouka system, changing the livelihoods of hundreds of local people. The parents of the girl in the photo can now afford to send her to school, thanks to the crops (field behind) they are now growing on land irrigated by a new water system.
9. My new boss, Jagveer (Laxman's brother), is big on badminton and usually starts the day playing it on a court drawn in the dust in the car park. He's a lot better than me and said my serve was poor- must try harder!
10. Laporiya runs on hot, milky, sweet Chai. I normally get woken up with a cup of chai at 6.45am, prepared by the office cook, who is a sweet lady called Sanju but we have trouble communicating with my limited Hindi and her limited English.
11. Sanju does a mean cold coffee, but only in the afternoon once the freezer has been on for a few hours. I'd say it's better than Cafe Coffee Day.
12. Laxman's father, Ragunate, has a 'mistake in the head' I'm told. He's physically fit but I think he has alzheimers and sometimes shouts or thinks it's dinner time when it's morning, or forgets he has eaten.
13. Laxman has adopted me as his daughter, and says it's now his responsibility to find me a husband. He has joked that when Rob visits in August we will have a big Rajasthani wedding. I wonder whether it would be legally binding!
    
14. Ratan (my new sister) is getting married in November or December- she has only met her husband to be once but seems pretty smitten with him. They tell me that at Rajpoot parties there is drink and non veg (ie. Meat!). My new mother has promised I can wear one of her party dresses too.
15. Spare time in the day is usually spent hiding from the 100 degree heat, inside a dark room with the desert cooler on and perhaps an Indian soap on sky tv (every family in the house has their own box).
    
16. One of our dogs, Jacqui seems to be fighting a losing battle with his fleas. If you give him any attention he nuzzles and leans against you and won't leave you alone. People often have to rescue me from him. I have to be careful not to get bitten.
    
17. You soon get used to the electricity cuts here. It's on from 7pm to 6am, then 11am to 4pm. It becomes an event when the lights and fans work again.
18. Laxman's wife, Anand, is basically in charge of cooking. She doesn't buy 'market food' like bread or biscuits, here they mill their own wheat flour and make their own butter from milk from their own cows. Much of her day is focused on preparing food.
19. In India, what your name means is very important. Anand (Mum) means very fine; Pratab (younger brother) means king; Akshay (cousin) means always win and Laxmi (younger sister) means god of money. When they asked me what my name meant, unfortunately I couldn't remember.
20. My new mum gave me a Rajasthani dress of hers and my sister and cousin had great fun dressing me up in it and getting the scarf just so. See the picture for the final result.

My last week as a Delhi Wallah

It's 9am and I'm writing this aboard the Jammu Express train from Delhi to Jaipur, which I've been on since 4.35am. In an hour I will be meeting a representative from GVNML, my placement organisation, who will take me to Laporiya. Emotions have been running high the last day or so. I've been saying goodbye to new friends and anticipating the journey to come. I realised I have actually bought a fair amount of new things in Delhi so fitting them all into 3 bags has been a struggle. I'm certainly not travelling light so I'm hoping I'll have some help getting them out of the train.

The last week or so in Delhi has been eventful. Here are the stand out moments:

Although not a positive, I have to say I spent a few days with dysentery on a high dose of antibiotics. I don't know where I got it from, but I'm glad it came in Delhi with my nice Western toilet rather than the Indian toilet I'm expecting in Laporiya. The first day I felt really better, last Saturday, I met up with Kev, the boyfriend of Fleur, a good friend of mine from home. He was in Delhi after 2 weeks trekking in Leh so I took him on some sightseeing of Old Delhi. As we were browsing the narrow bazaars around Chandi Chowk, motorbikes, bicycle rickshaws carrying tourists, and pedestrians were all trying to find their way through the streets. A rickshaw caught my hip with a piece of metal sticking out from his carriage as he pushed past. My salwars (trousers) ripped and I had a 8 cm long scratch/cut on my hip which developed into an impressive purple and black bruise. The driver didn't stop. I don't think he even realised what he had done. After putting on a brave face I rushed back home to bandage myself up with the First Aid Kit VSO had given us a few days before.
We spent a morning cooking lunch for 25 at the VSO office, under the watchful guidance of Anil and the other VSO cook. After buying the vegetables ourself and spending 2 hours chopping and preparing them, we finally got round to cooking. It was such a fun morning and everyone got to try cooking the various dishes. I even made rotis! See previous post for all the recipes we used. After a sumptuous lunch we were taken to see a Hindi film full of slapstick comedy in the comfiest cinema I've ever been to, with reclining seats and headrests, and were treated to big bags of popcorn and Pepsi.

An NGO called AAA held a workshop with us explaining their work with homeless people in Delhi, followed by a visit to one of their permanent shelters in Old Delhi. Each permanent shelter is owned by the government, but the maintenance is funded by Action Aid India, and each can house 450 people. Homeless men and women pay 6 rupees for 12 hours of shelter, children and the elderly get theirs for free. AAA was set up after research found 150,000 people were living in Delhi without shelter, this has almost doubled with the increase in migrant workers coming to the city. We spent some time drawing, colouring and talking with our limited Hindi to the children at AAA, most of which were orphans. They were so well behaved, reading and doing their homework. It was heartbreaking to think how alone they were. In an ironic twist, VSO took us out for a smart meal at an Italian restaurant afterwards, where a bowl of Penne Cabornara cost 280 rupees.
Indian tradition decrees that when it's your birthday you must bring a cake to work. After a quick Happy Birthday, cake is then smeared on the face of the birthday girl or boy. This week it was Sangita's birthday, a volunteer in South India who was visiting the VSO office in Delhi for meetings. Hence we enjoyed the whole spectacle. I'm looking forward to my birthday!

Recipes from our first homecooked Indian meal

Tomato Paneer
2kg tomatoes
2kg paneer (probably could’ve been 1.5kg)
2 tbsp cooking oil
200g chopped onion
50g fresh ginger
50g garlic 1 tbsp red chili
2 tbsp ground coriander
2 tbsp salt (or to taste)
Ketchup (this seems to be optional)

• Slice paneer into strips or cubes.
• Crush garlic and ginger in mixer with a bit of water, until paste.
• Boil whole tomatoes in a pot for 30 minutes.
• Remove the skin from tomatoes and mash ‘em, then set aside.
• In a large pot or wok, fry onion in oil till golden on medium heat.
• Add garlic and ginger paste, and spices. Saute and stir 10 minutes.
• Add mashed tomatoes. Simmer and stir 10 minutes.
• Add paneer. Simmer and stir on low heat another 15 minutes.
• Mix in ketchup if desired. Garnish with chopped fresh coriander.

Aloo Palak (Potato Spinach)

2kg fresh spinach, chopped
2.5kg yel low potatoes, peeled and chopped
3 tbsp coo king oil
2 cups chopped onion
10 cloves garlic, pureed in mixer with a bit of water
4 tomatoes, peeled and chopped 2 tbsp salt (or to taste)
1 tbsp red chili
1.5 tbsp ground coriander ¼ tbsp turmeric
4 whole dried red chilis

• Wash spinach and rinse 3-4 times.
• Soak chopped potatoes in water 30 minutes.
• In a large pot or wok, fry dry chilies 2 minutes on medium heat.
• Add onion and fry in oil till golden.
• Add garlic, tomatoes and spices. Saute 15 minutes until juice is down.
• Stir in potato and increase heat to high, cook 5 minutes.
• Stir in spinach. Cover and simmer (possibly back on medium heat) 30 minutes.
• Uncover and cook 10 minutes more until water is almost gone.

Mutton Curry
3kg mutton on the bone, chopped into serving sizes
100g garlic, pureed in mixer with a bit of water
100g ginger, pureed in mixer with a bit of water
1/2kg peeled and chopped tomatoes
1/2kg chopped onion
3tbsp cooking oil
1tbsp tumeric
1.5 tbsp ground coriander
1/2 tbsp red chilli, or more if desired, up to 1.5 tbsp
1/2 tbsp garam masala
1.5 tbsp salt, or to taste

• Stir dry spices with a bit of water to make a paste.
• In a large pot or wok, fry onion on medium heat in oil till golden.
• Stir in garlic and ginger and, then stir in spice paste and finally tomatoes.
• Reduce heat to low and simmer 20 minutes, stirring often.
• Add mutton, stir well and cover. Simmer, still on low heat, for one hour.
• Transfer mutton to pressure cooker and set aside the sauce.
• Add 1 cup of water and seal the cooker. Cook on medium heat 10-12 minutes until cooker “sneezes” several times.
• Combine mutton and its original sauce in serving dish.
• Garnish with chopped fresh coriander and a dash of garam masala.

Dhal
1/4 kg each red and yellow lentils
2 tbsp cooking oil
1 chopped onion
10-12 cloves of garlic, peeled and whole
1/2 tbsp tumeric
1/2 tbsp red chilli
1 tbsp of salt, or to taste
2 tomatoes, chopped

• Soak lentils in water for 5 minutes. Rinse and repeat 2-3 times until water runs clear.
• In pressure cooker, fry onion in oil on medium heat till golden.
• Stir in tomatoes, then add spices and stir vigorously.
• Stir in lentils.
• Add 1.5 litres of hot water and stir.
• Seal the cooker and cook 8-10 minutes.

Raita
4 cartons of yogurt
1.5 cups water
2 cucumbers, peeled and grated and drained
2 tsp salt, or to taste
2 tbsp dry fried cumin*

Stir all ingredients together and serve.
* Toast whole cumin seeds in skillet without oil, on medium heat until darkened. Transfer to blender and grind.

Mint Chutney
1 bunch mint, chopped and soaked and rinsed
6 fresh green chillis, stems removed
1 onion, chopped
1/2 tbsp salt, or to taste

Put all ingredients in a mixer and puree.






Roti
2 cups of wheat flour per 10 rotis desired

• Gradually mix 2-3 handfuls of water with flour in a bowl.
• Knead the dough with your knuckles until it forms a stiff ball.
• Divide dough into 10 balls. Roll out flat and flour.
• Dry-fry in roti pan, then brown both sides on open flame with tongs.

Thanks to Richard Johnson for writing up the recipes as we cooked.