The Foreign Service Journal, March 2009

Powdered milk was like candy to local people. I had paid a hefty price for a five-gallon tin of “KLIM,” the imported European milk powder popular during the 1950s (and “milk” spelled backwards), at the local store and was careful not to check too closely on how much we consumed and how much disappeared into the servants’ households. “Ragavelu,” I said. “Remember, this milk does not belong to us, so we must be very sure that none of it goes missing!” With a tiny smile on his face, he assured me that no one would enter the storeroom except himself or me. The next week, we put five five- gallon tins of KLIM into the station wagon. Desikan was delighted. We headed out to the clinic and, once there, he prodded off the lid of the first tin. Then the problem of how to transport the dried milk to the homes of the patients suddenly struck us. Without hesitating, however, a woman stepped forward, held out a corner of her sari, and we poured about two cups of powder into it. Then a man pulled up the edge of his kurta, and we repeated the operation. Every patient managed to find a way to take home the powdered milk. But one of our visiting American women looked on at the proceedings with horror. She was new to India, new to the Foreign Service, and did not realize — the way the missionar- ies and I did — that some things were just impossible. The next day she showed up at my house with an empty “Dalda” tin. Dalda was, and still is, the trade name for ghee, the nearest thing to butter. It was a sparkling clean one-pound tin, with a tight-fit- ting lid. “How about giving one to each patient, and telling them to bring them back each week, empty and clean?” she said. Excellent, but where and how could we acquire 50 or so Dalda tins? Every bit of tinned stuff that I brought home from the bazaar or frommy overseas shipments went out to the kitchen and just disappeared. A brief discussion with Ragavelu set- tled it: the tins were sold to dealers in the bazaar, and any idiot would know that all you had to do was go down to the bazaar and ask directions to the M A R C H 2 0 0 9 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 45 Every patient managed to find a way to take home the powdered milk.