ritchie ritual

in my few volunteer experiences abroad, i've found some common threads. one dreaded, one dear. the former being the washing of dishes. i've yet to come across a volunteer residence with a dishwasher. having a dishwasher would seem to indicate a lack of need for volunteers in fact. in truth, the washing of dishes is not always a drag. it just depends on the setting. in the jungle, with only a mere two meals a day, we all lingered around the table. i chose to keep my dirty empty plate planted right in front of me rather than push it away, a blantant announcement 'i'm done'. for this would mean i'm available for doing dishes. in my case jungle style dish-doing was a nasty affair: several eaters= several plates, several old, gross plastic prep bowls often with a) banana goo or b) sticky water flour mixture, and at least 2 pots/pans that were suspended over an open fire, resulting in a thick layer of black carbon. these pots are always done last, because it is impossible to keep yourself clean while washing them, and everything touched afterwards is sullied. still, i might not have tried to shrink back into the candlelight shadows as dishwashing time approacheth, but for the lack of running water. 2 plastic basins with rainwater. the first for 'cleaning' which i was loathe to plunge my hands into after the first few items emerged, and the second for 'rinsing.' yeah right. rene, the canadian in his mid 30's, the only male volunteer, was regularly the default dishwasher, with his girlfriend standing by for moral support. i think we all knew if we sat on our stumps long enough, he would save the day, he who was nicknamed 'el capitan,' he who also took responsibility for ensuring we had dry wood and he who rose first to stoke the morning fire. although i walked away many times from that table filled with relief, it was not without a sense of dishwashing guilt that grew larger as the days passed. but now i am doing my dishwashing penance, in a kitchen with very cold running water, a cd mp3 player, and a pleasant latin american hippy atmosphere complete with indigenous mandala mural on the wall. i'll wash dishes anytime i see one now - today it was a joy as with pensive strains of beethoven to accompany me and through the window rays of sun absolved me. forgive me my sins, i'm going to heaven after all.
 
the second activity is just as common as the first. the taking of tea. true, teatime is revered everywhere. but with the volunteer set it takes on greater importance. the making and drinking of tea, it is doing something in its own right. to put this in perspective, consider the volunteer's role as you would a temp job. in both, you have been brought in under the auspices that there is additional work to be done, and we need your able bodied help, pronto. but upon arrival, you wait for orders that may never arrive, or your critical task feels alot like sitting around doing nothing. ahh, but when you are making tea, well then you are doing something. you are warming yourself up in often draughty residences, taboot. the english, with crustless cucumber sandwiches in dainty hand,  the japanese in their gardens of traquility, they have nothing on volunteers the world over.