Culinary Musings...

  I have a retraction to make from my last post.  I get 2.5 hours of break per shift, not 1.5.  Today I found out that I definitely do have to work hard in the galley.  I spent most of the morning in the dish pit, lugging heavy machinery from one sink to the next.  I am going to get me some muscles yet.  What objects of torture these machines must be for the poor vegetables, I can only imagine!  Laying out on a cold, metal surface, they sit shivering in terror as they scan their alien surroundings.  They glance up just in time to see the razor-sharp metal knife come crashing down on their friend.  Is it not enough to eat them, without first peeling their skin off, dismembering them chunk by chunk, mashing them and dunking them in scalding oil?  Come on, have a little compassion.  Vegetables have feelings too!  I can definitely say that contrary to Mercy Ship's mission statement, I am not bringing hope and healing to the tomatoes of Guinea.  I am slaughtering them!

  My first work-related injury came today.  I found out the reason why God gave us finger-nails.  I found myself lugging clean dishes back to their respective homes and in the process of attempting to nest one super solid metal cauldron inside of another, I managed to squash the side of my left thumb between their brims.  OUUUCH!  I didn't make any noise, but jumped around, clutching my thumb.  (Don't worry food safety people, I took the correct measures to clean up my hand and protect it and the food from each other.)  I found myself once again back with the tomatoes.  My competitive streak began to show, as I secretly tried to fill my pan with chopped tomatoes faster than my co-worker next to me.  Hmmm, maybe that wasn't such a good idea.  I felt the knife come down and ping off my thumb.  The finger-nail completely protected me, and I didn't even slice through the glove, but I can see what a close call that could have been.  Slow down Alice! Mom, just to warn you, I may not come home with all of my digits still intact.  Just saying.
  Galley is not all work, we play too.  I learned a new sport.  Kitchen curling!  First, the slosh of soapy water is released onto the tile surface and begins to flow down towards it's target.  Next, the broomsman follows behind vigorously scrubbing the floor, moving the water along, and welcoming the dirt that has joined in along the way.  Finally, the squeegy-men follow with a broom-sized squeegies, picking up the slack that the broomsman has left.  In the end the goal is accomplished.  I'm not too sure that there is a scoring system for this activity.  But in the curler's off season, this job would be excellent practice!

So, I decided to switch careers...

  The Mercy Ships dental clinic in Conakry is no more.  Throughout the past weeks, we have seen our last patients of the field service, packed up the whole office, cleaned the building, and packed our dental container.  Yesterday we had a goodbye lunch with our day-workers which officially closed the dental chapter of this mission.

  Today, at 8 am, I began my new career working in the galley.  We work 11 hour days (but 1.5 hours of break spread throughout the day), but we only work 2 days on two days off and every other weekend.  So we've got a sweet deal.  I sliced cucumbers and diced tomatoes.  Then I made a graham cracker crust for our vanilla pudding.  A group of us new galley recruits worked on our dessert so lovingly, spreading the whipped cream on top just so.  I placed one completed pan on the trolley, ready to go.  Moments later, I here "Hey!"  And there was my pan of banana pudding all over the floor.  Good thing we made 10 other pans of it.  Unfortunately the floor had just been cleaned, so that had to be redone.  Oops!
  My first day in the galley and I nearly had a heart attack!  There I was, minding my own business, putting the finishing touches on the banana pudding, when I hear a blood-curdling shriek coming from over by the deep fryers.  My eyes took a moment to find where the noise was coming from, then I saw my co-worker clutching her head, arched way back, almost writhing.  "EMERGENCY!" my brain yelled.  "She has been scalded by hot oil, and she's going to get 10th degree burns!" (If there was such a thing.)  It reminded me of a scene from "Dante's Peak" (Pierce Broznan) when the family is floating in the boat, through the lake of sulphuric acid.  The grandmother jumps out of the boat to push it to shore, and in the process, begins to be eaten by the acid.  That scene of agony had quite an impact on me, and I almost thought that I was re-watching it.
  The truth is, my coworker was not burning.  She was not even in pain.  She had just been doused with a bucket of cold water (an age-old galley tradition for people on their last day).  She was merely in shock.  Then the next thing I knew, she came sprinting up the hall, with a hose, to spray her friend.  Whew!  OK, no emergency after all.
  My new galley crew are awesome to work with.  The work is not hard, in fact it is relaxing.  It is a looooooong day though, and it is difficult to finish.  I am totally surprised that I even mustered the energy to tell you all about it.  Tomorrow I do it all over again.  I think I'll sleep well tonight.