Ding! Ding!

Luuunnch!

Our lunch ladies don't wear hairnets or serve sloppy Joe's on Fridays.  We have mystery meat day though.  It's every day.

This is where the magic happens.  The kitchen has a wood burning stove with two giant pots, one for rice, and one for everything else.  The bus driver often makes a special meal for me with just vegetables. 

The average time for a student to eat is seven minutes.  Once they are done, the teachers can eat.  I usually make my own breakfast because they serve porridge with meat.  Sometimes, they make about 150 packets of ramen noodles instead.  I get more excited than I should on those occasions. 

When I eat with the teachers, they closely monitor my eating habits.  Cambodians think the rice tastes bad if you mix the rest of your meal with it, so they fill their bowl with rice and continually dip their spoons in the communal bowls to add bits of meat or sauce.  "Kerri, why you mix it together?"  I explain this is how Americans do it, as they shake their heads in disapproval.

The students rinse out their bowls with water and scrape off bits of food with their hands before placing them back on the shelf for the next meal. 

The canine clean-up crew mops the floor.  Sometimes, they can't wait, and I catch them on the tables, eating out of the bowls.  Each day, the students wipe the tables with dirty rags.  When it's a special occasion, they dampen the rags.  One time, I saw Mr. Thang pick up a broom and walk over to a messy table.  I thought, "Is he?  Oh!  Oh!  No...."  Then, he brushed spilled rice off the table with the broom.