Powdered coffee - seriously?

If you said to me, a determined coffee lover, that a cup of instant powder coffee was even drinkable, I would have laughed at you. I would have thought you had uttered some form of insane idea that was a certain evidence of a questionable link with insanity.  So, here I am at 6 a.m. enjoying just such a thing. It is made with farm fresh, intensely boiled milk. And, having been hand delivered by the night watchman, is magnificent.

We have also discovered this little hotel that is run by a northern Indian family with some obvious other Asian influence. I am uncertain if anyone stays at the hotel but then the tourist traffic here is down very markedly from this time last year. The economic woes of Europe in particular has hit here with just far fewer people arriving, at least in this area.

None the less, this little hotel, Greens, serves up some remarkable paneer butter masala as well as a variety of other interesting dishes like Gobi chicken. The lemon water is freshly made and refreshes like nothing else on a hot, humid evening. The kitchen is a bit odd and would never pass a health inspection in the west. It is located in the back of the wood refinishing business. The food is, none the less, magnificent and a full dinner costs about 200 rupees (or less than $5) for 2 people.

Hidden in there is the kitchen

On the way over tonight, we passed a funeral pyre. The procession had worked its way down the road that we had to travel to get to Greens. As is the tradition, flowers are ripped off the funeral caravan leaving behind the life that has existed as the deceased is prepared for the next life. The flowers are littered across the road which meant that we drove over them. There was a certain invasive creepiness to this (clearly my Western sensibilities).

I am quite excited to be doing a men only group tomorrow with 30-40 men from the villages. A social worker will be translating for me. It will be a combination of teaching and group work on the topic of abuse in the family. We will be exploring things like what does it mean to be a father and a husband. The therapists who work here look at me with amazement and suddenly wide open eyes. They are shocked that this could happen. Several female therapists have expressed a wish that they could be a fly on the wall.

We have only 1 week left here. The time, as is often said, flew by. There are still friends we have not caught up on and things we had wanted to do but will not get done. I finish the trip in Chennai by giving a lecture. The invitation is so formal but I think it will be a wonderful opportunity.

Two of literally hundreds surrounding us on our walk

Some of the memories of a trip as so small. Yesterday, when we were out for a walk, we wandered down this trail where there were various trees overhanging. What we ended up doing is walking through a flurry of butterflies. We were surrounded as the flit past us, around us, above us and even just sitting in tree branches where they allowed us to come within a touch length. Such simple beauty.