Sr. Megan took me to a thrift store atached to a Lutheran church which looked like a monastery - and thrift stores belonging to churches over here really are thrift stores. For five dollars I got a jacket I immediately fell in love with - it reminded me of Indorockers like the Tielman Brothers or the Blue Diamonds. When I presented myself on A Pinch Of Salt it was with spinning an Indorock record. A real Indorocker jacket. Phew wow!
(Chances were I would even wear it at a possible wedding ceremony, which I did - it is one of the Must-Do-Things in LV, NV. We did it in the chapel of the franciscan house we are staying in, between washing the dishes and the coffee before turning in for the very early tour of duty).
When I looked at the inside I noticed the jacket was Made in Indonesia. An ironical (and sad) detail. Sweatshop clothing real Indo-style.
We show up in the early morning at the Catholic Worker House LV where preparations are made for the soupline of the day. "Where' you guys from?" asks a CW with a southern drawl. "From Hulland," we have to say ("Holland" makes no sense, it sounds too much like Poland, the politically correct Netherlands is too tedious and most of the time needs more explanation - so we learned to pronounce the country's name as if it were the surroundings of Hull). Yes, it is pretty decadent to come all the way from Western Europe to hand out meals to the poor of Las Vegas, to the ambassadors of God as Peter Maurin calls them, quoting classical Greek sources. It is not the only thing we arrived for but it is part of the activities.
Here you can get an idea of the size of these pans. They are stirred on the spot by a canoe oar.
My sweatshop Indojacket had to be dry-cleaned after the spaghetti serving.
At the appointed date and time it is not ready. I am told it is silk and needs an extra turn to remove the soup stains. Silk? Another embarrassing detail. So it is not even vegetarian?
Neither are the meals in the soupline, by the way.
(to be continued)