炊き出し ~Takidashi~

Today, I’d like to talk about my group’s takidashi Experience up North.

For my group’s last day of volunteering, I decided my group should try something different. As we had been doing hard work for days, I felt going to takidashi- cooking supply food to the people in shelters- would be a great experience. Plus, I like to cook. So I thought, why not give my group some rest and cook on the last day?

Our entire volunteer group had been sending groups on a daily process to cook dinner at two shelters nearby, so there was also a notebook/diary kept by every group that had gone. We were told that the people at the shelter do not provide you with any instruction- so to be prepared as much as possible.

The night before our takidashi, I asked the experienced group members that had just returned from their cooking,

“Hey, can I get some advice on takidashi? My group's going tomorrow.”

The first thing one of their group members said was, “Well…expect it to be a battle in the kitchen!!”

And it was.

Unfortunately, none of my group members were experienced chefs who had great experience in cooking. We also didn’t know the difficulty in cooking for 90 people. Still, we wanted to make a decent dish. Especially, as it was for the people in the shelters.

We arrived at the shelter (elementary school) at around 12p.m. and took a look around the supplies that were there. The media had talked about supplies not reaching some shelters, as well as a lack of vegetables at the shelters.  Indeed, our ingredients were very limited. On that day, no meat had arrived. There were no eggs.

We decided to make yasai ankake, a simple vegetable dish. We also made some pickled celery and radish, miso soup, and fruit salad to go along with the main dish.

Figuring out ingredients for 90 people was quite a challenge. And cutting the many fruits and vegetables was even harder. We started cooking at around 1pm and worked nonstop until 6pm- the time when dinner was to be served. Of course, not everything went smoothly but through teamwork and cooperation, we were able to start serving our dishes on time.   

When we were done serving, one of the representatives at the shelter asked us to eat with them. In the future, he told me he desired for the people in shelters to be able to spend more time together with the volunteers. So that they could share and talk about their tsunami experience with us.

I hesitated at first to say yes. I didn’t know if it would be right for me to eat their food. However, I also felt it would be rude to turn down the thoughtful invitation.

Throughout dinner, I was a little shy to mingle with the people there. I sat close to my volunteer group. Of course, everyone knew we were volunteers due to our green pennies.  I felt a sad separation between us and them. And I wished that I could just take off my penny.

The man sitting across from me was a firefighter who had been involved in the search for dead bodies after the tsunami.

He told us,

“What broke my heart most- was seeing the young children’s bodies. Kids whose lives were still ahead of them…”

Another said,

“But think of Ishinomaki. 80% of the elementary schools’ children lost their lives in the tsunami. Poor children…”

They were comparing the damage amongst the different devastated regions.

A little girl came to introduce herself. She wanted to play with us. Through her, I realized how the children radiate off a good vibe, that the people around them are affected by their positive energy and enthusiasm. Their presence seemed to make the shelter seem more optimistic.

When we were washing our dishes, however, she shared with us,

“Do you know what??? I saw…A tsunami!!! And it was Gray! And it was blue, too!”

And then, she went on to talk about other things- like the smell of the detergent and how she has a new pair of crocs.

But the little girl mentioning the tsunami made me realize that children are just as affected by this natural disaster. Even though they may be smiling and energetic, they have felt fear. There may be pain in their hearts that we can't see.

After dinner, we cleaned up the mess we made in the kitchen (which was the elementary school’s back entrance). A few of the people at the shelter had come outside to smoke, to breathe the outside air, to talk.

When we were done cleaning up and ready to leave, a few of them came by our car to see us off.

I shook the hand of a grandma to say farewell. She felt my cold hands and seemed surprised.

“I’ve been washing, that’s why” I explained.

She held my hands until they were warm, from hers.

The entire time during dinner and leading up to it, I was so nervous about how our food would turn out. And even if it did turn out all right, if the people there would actually like it.

But when she held out her hands to make mine warmer, all my worries seemed to be swept away.