Polaroid #8

In another occasion I worked in a kitchen which was located in a subterranean floor inside the business park in the town of G. The work involved preparing food for restaurants, hotels and shops.

We received ingredients, stacked them in a refrigerated cellar and prepared the food: mash potatoes, carrots, pasta and so on. After that we have to put the food in small containers and close them with plastic. The kitchen was kept   at -2 degrees, which made the environment very wet, illuminated by electric light all day and under the surveillance of many cameras around us. Some people used to start at 5am and another at 8am. We finished working at 6pm or 8pm if we have work to do. Anyway, in this place I met Rovabàn. He was from Serbia. Hard working man with a peculiar sense of humour. I remember that he used to work long hours because his family was very poor and he was the only help for them. He has a strong and sad memories about the war in Yugoslavia but he thought that they never lived better than under the dominion of the URSS.

In the middle of the work shift one day he took a piece of paper and he wrote in Russian a note a drew a star, he fixed it on the wall with a sellotape and made a military salute and started singing a song about the old days in Yugoslavia.  

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