It's been a long time since I wrote one of these. With the exams and the overall laziness, I didn't find any time to write anything. Today gave me the perfect topic for #23.
As you know, I live in the U.A.E., which is by part a Muslim country. In Islam, one month of every year celebrates the festival of Ramadan. It encourages fasting, donating to the poor and needy. And every year, charity events take place across Dubai, donating food and drink to laborers so that they can break their daily fast. This year, my dad's company was invited by a caterer to give away dinner in a labour campsite. So, after school my parents picked me up and we drove all the way to an enormous warehouse turned kitchen. Work had already started inside. We were given a quick tour over the workings of the kitchen and our role in the process. They had cheesecake, buttermilk, water cups, salad bowls, dates (the dry fruit, not a right swipe on Tinder), and biryani, a meat and rice delicacy superior to any other in the world, by my opinion.
It was very tempting to have a tiny bite from any of the food just laying there, but, I stopped, for good reason. You see, when you participate in humanitarian causes such as these, it is fulfilling. I actually felt content, distracting myself by breaking world records at packing rice trays, one every two seconds. Barry Allen would be proud. The kitchen itself was quite the feat, Meat shredders, boilers, roasters, big cooking pots, freeze rooms. Gordon Ramsay would be proud. There were promoters, kids, office employees and general volunteers like myself. That room was one without ego or pride, all focused on the food and its packaging with vigor.. The speakers were blasting EDM and heavy metal. The tempo rose our spirits and we worked quicker.
In the end, we ran out of containers for the biryani. Everything was calculated to serve a whopping 1800 people. At the end of two hours, we accomplished the task. Then all the food was loaded up into the catering vans, even families with 4x4s were requested to ccarry a few trays in the trunk.
Everything went as planned at the campsite. Sure, there were a few glitches in the process, when few laborers began to cut through the queue or sneakily take second helping. In the end, it was satisfying to see all the food being taken away. Unfortunately, the bad part is that I wont be able to eat biryani again.
As you know, I live in the U.A.E., which is by part a Muslim country. In Islam, one month of every year celebrates the festival of Ramadan. It encourages fasting, donating to the poor and needy. And every year, charity events take place across Dubai, donating food and drink to laborers so that they can break their daily fast. This year, my dad's company was invited by a caterer to give away dinner in a labour campsite. So, after school my parents picked me up and we drove all the way to an enormous warehouse turned kitchen. Work had already started inside. We were given a quick tour over the workings of the kitchen and our role in the process. They had cheesecake, buttermilk, water cups, salad bowls, dates (the dry fruit, not a right swipe on Tinder), and biryani, a meat and rice delicacy superior to any other in the world, by my opinion.
It was very tempting to have a tiny bite from any of the food just laying there, but, I stopped, for good reason. You see, when you participate in humanitarian causes such as these, it is fulfilling. I actually felt content, distracting myself by breaking world records at packing rice trays, one every two seconds. Barry Allen would be proud. The kitchen itself was quite the feat, Meat shredders, boilers, roasters, big cooking pots, freeze rooms. Gordon Ramsay would be proud. There were promoters, kids, office employees and general volunteers like myself. That room was one without ego or pride, all focused on the food and its packaging with vigor.. The speakers were blasting EDM and heavy metal. The tempo rose our spirits and we worked quicker.
In the end, we ran out of containers for the biryani. Everything was calculated to serve a whopping 1800 people. At the end of two hours, we accomplished the task. Then all the food was loaded up into the catering vans, even families with 4x4s were requested to ccarry a few trays in the trunk.
Everything went as planned at the campsite. Sure, there were a few glitches in the process, when few laborers began to cut through the queue or sneakily take second helping. In the end, it was satisfying to see all the food being taken away. Unfortunately, the bad part is that I wont be able to eat biryani again.
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