I forgot to talk about one thing I did over the Christmas period. Not sure why because it's quite significant.
I woke up early one morning 530am to make my way down to Willing Hearts, a volunteer soup kitchen that prepares meals for about 300 persons each day. The kitchen is a huge set up in a factory building in Genting Lane. When I arrived at 645ish there already the waft of cooking smells, the sharp kling klang of utensils and the noise of instruction being barked across the open setup. There were students from Hwa Chong who perhaps were 'forced' to volunteer for school credits, many aunties, some kids who belonged to some of the aunties, and several men. Some persons looked like permanent staff and not walk-in traffic like myself. Everyone seemed to know what their job was. Uncle Tony was the man in charge, a middle aged friendly face who was almost always smiling, and when my friend arrived, we asked Tony for placement of duties.
I was first asked to scoop cooked rice out of a steaming tray into a large cauldron. What surprises most first-time volunteers I think the scale of output. The amount of food is enormous. I haven't worked at McDonalds or KFC and perhaps haven't been exposed to this much food before. Well maybe when we cleaned up the army kitchens we had an inkling of mass produced lunch. There were trays and trays of steaming hot rice. And more needed to be prepared. The next thing that perhaps got me was the heat. Not of the kitchen but the food. When you're scooping out kilos of cooked rice, it's easy to get scalded or burned.
When the rice was scooped out, I had to bring it to the assembly line of food packers. I ended up joining the line too for most of the morning. It seems simple enough, scoop and place, into styrofoam packs. (The amount of styrofoam used sort of bothered me but I guess that was the most cost-efficient way to contain hot food.) I started off packing macaroni fried with mushrooms and vegetables. The next-in-line added a sliced of omelette to complete the serving. With everything one does, there's always a way to make the process better or deliver a better outcome. It may sound strange but I instinctively started to work out what the ideal number of scoops of pasta was that would adequately fill a packet. Turns out it's two full scoops. Then I adjusted the position of the empty boxes in relation to my arm length and approach. Then I kept a look out for balance and presentation. Was there enough vege? Enough mushroom? Was there too much gravy? Factors of success. I was optimizing processes.
Some of the regulars kept reminding us to clean as we went, not waste food, not slack off mid assembly, keep out gloves on, always having that eye on things to ensure some standards were met. The eye was mostly on the teenagers who weren't that used to manual labour and adult supervision.
When that round was done, it was time to continue with rice, vege, sardines and egg. Next we had fried rice, vege and ikan bilis. We packed over 200 servings.
I went around to collect the rice from one station, return the empty receptacles, collect the vegetables and send utensils for washing. There were kids frying eggs, ladies cutting vegetables, teenagers washing up, aunties packing food, guys tossing and mixing rice with seasonings, everyone playing a part in the whole operation to get food ready by 10am.
By about 11am, most of the jobs were done and breakfast was served - the excess food from the morning's rush. And we left after. Day done. People said "see you tomorrow" knowing also that most would not come back anytime soon.
Willing Hearts (www.willinghearts.org.sg) is a registered charity that survives on the kindness of strangers. The food is donated and the help is made up of volunteers. I'm not sure how they keep the place running. Where does the money for water, electricity and the basics come from? I didn't ask Uncle Tony for fear of being nosy.
I haven't gone back since this first stint. I should and bring a few more people along. I'm thinking bored retirees could make a difference too. The sense of community and even kinship among the regular volunteers was palatable.
I realise I didn't give blood in 2013.
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