1 Hour of Dishes = 1 Bowl of Gumbo

You know you're in the south when you use the bathroom in the morning and there's a cockroach on the toilet paper. It fell on my foot and remains MIA. This was just the beginning of my morning in Shreveport, Louisiana. I originally moved to the South to get experience in the restaurant business. I feel that I've already gained a lot more.

A week ago I drove the 17 hours from my hometown in Jefferson, MD to the more cajun styled Shreveport. My aunt and uncle own a famous restaurant called Herby K's. It's well known for it's seafood gumbo and killer shrimp busters.

When they offered me the chance to come work in the establishment and learn, I was more than happy to accept. Now, after a week of getting aquainted with the area, I said goodbye to my Mama and Aunt Cindy, and said hello to solitude... or almost.

My room sits behind a beautiful family home, in a sweet residential area, just minutes from town. The family living in the house are friends of my family, and they too are a family. I have everything I need from a bathroom, with shower, to a mini-fridge and microwave. It wasn't until the cockroach incident this morning that I realized where I was. The changes from North to South are hard to describe, so I'll do my best through the following weeks.

Today was my first day of unintentional work. I only seem to wonder how many more will continue to be unintentional. I walked into the building wearing a bright pink sundress, fringe sandals, and a cardigan. Safe to say, I was a little unprepared. However, when offered the opportunity to work, how could I refuse?

The minute I walked through the swinging wooden door to the back room, I knew I had entered a new world. There were at least eight people working in an area no bigger than my kitchen at home. I had expected a lot of noise and yelling, but the only thing I could make out were the mutters of, "Excuse me," or "Pardon me," as employees moved throughout the kitchen.

The first person I met was a boy, whose name will go unmentioned (not for safety reasons but simply because I cannot remember). He taught me what I needed to know about cleaning dishes. For those of you who have never done dishes, here is a crash course...

1. Move fast.
2. Stay out the way.
3. There is always more work to be done.

Every moment when I thought there was a lull, I was wrong. More trays of dishes would come swooping through that swinging door. There was rarely time to talk and hardly any time to realize how prune-like your hands could get. For the most part, a monkey can do dishes, it's the finesse one has to worry about.

After only an hour and a half of work, the lunch shift was over and I was given a bowl of gumbo, with a side of bread, and a couple shrimp busters that they claimed looked too funny to serve to the customers. It was the best gumbo I have ever had, and probably ever will. The hour and a half of work and learning that I put in this afternoon in no way paid for the amazing lunch I ate afterward.

Tomorrow is the fourth of July and I don't work again until Tuesday. We'll see what the weekend has to bring me...