ACQUIRED TASTE

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

 

08/I/2024

 

In 1990, having spent five years driving around the dunes of Ja-Sale-Mer, I got posted to another battalion near Tang-tse.

 

Two Pinjas picked me up in a Jonga. As a Mech officer, the shine of the paint and the purr of the finely tuned Nissan engine revealed a lot about things to come. However, I was in for a surprise as my job involved moving on two legs rather than on these four tyred vehicles.

 

Pinjas spoke Tibetan which I did not understand. It was an opportunity for me to learn a new language, imbibe a new culture, train with them and be part of them.

 

After acclimatisation it was time to see the actual High Altitude. Pinjas were at ease, for me, it was a challenge.

 

It was my first visit to the company lines and langar. Every barrack had a wire strung across for tying mosquito nets. They used it for a different purpose, i.e. drying and stringing freshly made sausages. Pinjas were meat lovers.

 

My eyes lit up on that site which the senior JCO noticed. What do you call them, I asked? ‘Gyuma’ was the reply. I shall not like to explain the method of making. “Aap log nahi khata hai”, the senior JCO said. I had a mind to tell him that yours truly can eat anything which moves.

 

We moved to the langar. A huge steaming cauldron was on the hearth brewing tea. Unlike the Indian Army Chai, the colour of the chai was much lighter and pinkish. As customary, within a minute a cup of sweet tasting tea was served.

 

The Langar Commander, an old looking Tibetan fellow, whispered something in the ears of the Senior JCO who approached me to offer the tea which was being prepared called ‘po cha’ or salted tea with a dash of butter stuck to the side of the tea cup. I nodded.

 

Frankly, on the first sip, I would have spat that concoction out. It tasted like salted dish water but what the heck. The accompaniment they offered were shakkarparas called Khapse. A bite of Khapse and a sip of the tea helped me finish it.

 

That is when I saw a ‘quiver’ like thing hanging on the side wall of the cook house. What was it doing in a langar? It was a cylinder in which they made ‘gur-gur cha’, the traditional salted Tibetan tea. This got me interested and I told them to show me the process, which they did so willingly.

 

That cha too tasted pathetic. The twist to the tale was that traditionally they added yak butter instead of ration tinned butter to the brew. The churning sound which the movement of the piston made sounded like gur-gur, from which probably it derived its name.

 

One has to get used to various tastes and this cha became an acquired taste thereafter.

 

The trigger to this article was an incident which happened yesterday. I had gone to pick up my daughter from the railway station. Adjacent to the station we have a Tibetan market. They come from various settlements with woollen clothing and jackets for sale in winters.

 

Her train had got delayed and I had time to kill. So, I walked up to the row of shops. As I strode along, I saw married ladies walk past wearing a ‘pangden’ , a kind of apron equivalent of Sindhoor and a Chuba or cloak, their traditional dress. I was nostalgic already.

 

I halted at a shop and the lady there spoke in chaste Hindi but with a Tibetan accent. Kya chahiye? I wished her ‘Tashi Deleg’ the traditional Tibetan greeting. My-my what a smile I brought to this young lass’ face. Aap pahla banda hai jis ne Tashi Deleg bola. I smiled and moved on.

 

Just then a man on a bicycle crossed me. What caught my attention was the board displayed on his cycle which read Tibetan butter tea. I just couldn’t resist ordering one.

 

My taste buds experienced the same taste after years. “Meing Khare”? I asked this man, what’s your name? He could not reply. I asked him in Hindi, how come he was selling Tibetan tea?

 

I am a local auto driver, he said. Tibetans taught me how to make namkeen tea and since the last ten years I have been selling salted tea. I thanked him for rekindling my taste buds which had almost forgotten what namkeen chai tastes like.

 

My daughter’s train arrived. My mind was still with my Pinjas. Just a confession, when they offered me various meat dishes during Losar, the Tibetan New year, I relished what a Pinja ate. Those sausages were the tastiest thing on that side of Shayok River.

 

Do you guys also have some acquired tastes? I wonder!!!!!!

 

JAI HIND
©® NOEL ELLIS