My education after seminary

I had never worked in the food industry before this spring. I don't regret having to work in a restaurant as a hostess to make ends meet. We have to do what we have to do between graduation and first call. I've learned a lot and come to appreciate the service industry even more than I did before. That saying (I don't know if it's actually a saying) that "everyone should work in the food service industry at least once," is very true.

So here are some things I have learned while working in a restaurant...


Ice cream solves a multitude of problems. My manager's go-to move when someone is upset or an order is made wrong (over and over again) is to send the table ice cream (actually gelato because we think we are fancy). And let me tell you, people are totally into it. They are delighted to get free ice cream after their meal. The other day, we had a little girl come in with her parents and she was just WAILING. She wanted ice cream and she wanted it about ten minutes ago. As I sat them, I mentioned to her mother that we have gelato (pft). The wailing stopped as the gelato-posing-as-ice-cream was delivered. Ice cream solves everything, y'all. It just does.

Your education means nothing if you aren't nice. I was chatting with a fellow hostess, exchanging stories, and asking about her life. She said she is currently working at Tazza because she just got out of a bad relationship and had to move back in with her parents. As I mentioned that I had just finished my master's degree. "How old are you?" she asked. I replied that I'm 25. She said, "I feel so under-accomplished! You're younger than me and you have a master's degree!" I was quick to point out that we are both working the same job for the same wage. Education means absolutely nothing when you're in the same lot in life.

The 5/10 rule makes a lot of sense in real life. In restaurant business there is a rule that says if someone is within ten feet of you, you should acknowledge the person with a smile or a "hello." If you are within five feet of a person, you should greet them and offer to assist them. As an introvert, it is really easy for me to dip my head when people walk down the street or greet me in a grocery store. Since working in a restaurant, I have greeted a lot more people in my day to life. This is also a "rule" that I think is invaluable in ministry, whether we tell our worship greeters about the "rule" or using it in our lives everyday.

People just want to be treated like human beings. Whether it is the chef, the line cooks, the host, the servers, or the guests, we simply want to be treated like human beings. Whatever that means to you might vary, but to me it means that people who are in the service industry are people. People who go to eat in restaurants are people. It's not super complicated. I don't think that one person is any better than the other. Sure, I work in a restaurant where I can't afford the food, but that doesn't mean I should be treated like a someone who is less than human. It's probably too much to ask, but you know, I'm an optimist.

Keep your feet underneath you. I'm not the most graceful person in the world. I was slipping and sliding on the kitchen floor the other day and someone said, "keep your feet underneath you." That sounds like common sense, but it's more about not cutting corners or going too fast. And I can really use that advice. I'm pretty good at going too fast and forgetting to take a look around and appreciate my life.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I'm really enjoying working at the restaurant, and it is teaching me a lot. I hope I don't have to work there forever, but I'll take these lessons with me into ministry and whatever is next in life.

Accepting Hospitality

A normal question we encountered over and over again at the beginning of our time here in Malaysia was, "how do you find Malaysia?" It seemed every time we saw anyone from church, they would want to know how we were getting along - especially with the weather. (It's quite hot here, if you haven't heard.)

After a few weeks, the questions turned to food. No matter what time it was or what we were about to do, every time we got into the car with someone, they would promptly ask, "Have you eaten?" We never tried it, I would guess if we had ever said we were hungry, they would have put the pedal to the floor in search of acceptable food choices.

In these past few weeks together, we have been getting a different question when gathering with folks. "What will you miss the most?"

The food.
The people.

Table fellowship.

"In the beginning was the Word. It was only when human beings appeared that the Word became food on a table. We know that language allows us to understand each other and to express what we think and feel. We humans, however, are more than language. We humans are cookingage, i.e., that which allows us to prepare the food with which we can nourish not only our body, but also our spirit. It was when we started to cook our first meals and when we started to conjugate the incarnate Word that we noticed that we were human. Both table and Word humanize us. No wonder it is essential that the table on which our meals are served be conjoined with good conversation: at the table, the word is essential."  -- Forward by Joaquín Racionero Page

(From "Theology of Food: Eating and the Eucharist" by Angel F. Méndez Montoya, vi)

Hospitality is about more than giving. I think there's also an element of receiving in it too. Showing hospitality has been instilled in me from a young age. My mom was always hosting parties and dinners when we were growing up. It seemed no matter where we moved, one thing remained constant -- our house was a place to gather, a place to eat, and a place to have fellowship. I don't remember going to as many parties as we hosted when I was growing up. It wasn't just parties, either. We constantly had people staying at our house overnight. Later, Mom would laugh and called the house Hotel Habermehl, but I remember it vividly. No matter who it was -- grandparents or friends of friends -- everyone was welcome at our house for as long as they needed to be there.

Therefore, as I grew older, I became very good at hosting and not so great at receiving hospitality.

Okay, let me be clear: my body rejects hospitality like it rejects red meat and dairy products. I'm simply not very good at being taken care of. I'm the worst guest if you expect me to just relax and receive. I'm the kind of guest you invite over before the party so I can clean your house and help bake the pies. I'm not entirely sure what it is about receiving that grates me. It probably has to do with my perfectionist tendencies and my over- achiever work ethic. Whatever it is, I was in for a rude awakening in Malaysia.

Learning to accept hospitality and assistance has been the hardest for me this year. It has taken me nearly six months to even write about how it has affected my life. We spent the year without a car, in a foreign place, with foreign food, immersed in a different language. All of these things meant I had to learn how to accept the hospitality of others.

We had to ask people (in the beginning, they were complete strangers) to take us to the grocery store.
We had to call people to ask them what words meant in an Indian restaurant.
We went to lunch with people who ordered food for us without even knowing if we would eat it.
People drove us home from church and restaurants constantly because we had no way of transporting ourselves.
We were completely reliant on other people for things we never would have imagined before.

It was weird. It drove me insane. I fought back against it. But it changed me and formed me into a woman who can -- even if I don't really want to -- accept hospitality. And as I reflect on all the things I could miss about Malaysia, my heart keeps going back to the people, their hospitality, and especially their food. It's how they show that they care deeply for us and want us to be happy (and fed). And my goodness, is it biblical and wonderful. I miss it desperately and I can't wait to get back for more.