kloiterra

"we believe the air is god. the water is god. the vegetable is god--we cannot live without them," he told me as i pushed the brick across the oily grill. i felt like i knew a bit about Hinduism, i actually read the book that the hare krishna guy sold me at some concert for a buck, and it contributed many threads to my personal spiritual tapestry, but now faced with an older Indian man, a Brahmin, no less, i was suddenly aware how little faith i had in my understanding of Hinduism. his name is Kevin, but knowing that it's not his real name, i've never called him Kevin.
after the Italians packed up their restaurant and headed to nebraska, a man that i've only heard referred to as Dr. Shah(psychiatrist) bought the hotel. long story short, i still work at the restaurant; i'm the only night cook. i don't know what his relation to Dr. Shah is, but Kevin is around the hotel now while Dr. Shah is doing something in India. He spends a lot of time in the kitchen with me, and he's been teaching me how to cook Indian food. Hindu Indian food, and in the meantime, he gives me riddles and we talk about the way people are and believe, and i agree with a lot of what he says, and often have something to add to the conversation. it's a pretty cool situation. we munched on papad while he showed me how to prepare masala chai. he was impressed that when he mentioned rice, i told him that i prefer basmati; he told me it was the only rice to use. tonight he guided me as i prepared mung bean masala and paratha. we ate with our hands. mine were turmeric yellow, just like the hips on my freshly bleached chef coat.
having some basic understanding of what this man's belief system and culture include, i feel a different kind of ashamed for cooking burgers.
"tomorrow, you will make bhagjery!"