A couple of weeks ago, I wrote an ejo asking for people who were interested to contribute some money towards buying some of the less fortunate residents of Dubai a nice, hot, tasty meal to break the Ramadan fast. As well as David and me, FIFTEEN others stepped up and sent me money. Every single cent of that money went towards the food. Here’s how it all went down:
It was somewhat fitting that the day of the Iftar dinner handout was particularly hot and humid. After all, should I really expect to feel comfortable whilst handing out food to impoverished people on the street? I don’t think so. Unfortunately for me, I was also feeling a little bit under the weather from a pretty bad head cold. And to top it off, I’d only had two hours sleep the night before. We arrived home from a trip to Switzerland at 1.30am and I had to wake up at 3.45am to get to work. I can hear you: Trip to Switzerland?? And you want us to feel SORRY for you?? I guess not, but c’mon, two hours sleep is still only two hours sleep. Anyway, to sum it up, I was feeling pretty crappy and I would much rather have been at home in bed sipping on chamomile tea than driving around the back streets of Satwa trying to find a parking spot to set up the handout. But I had made a commitment, and nothing was going to stop me from honouring it.
The amazing Green Palace Restaurant that packages the meals for handouts at a SUPER reasonable price. Thank you so much to the guys that help out with organising the food!!
416 meals at 12dhs each comes to 4992dhs. Thank you to each and every person who gave money towards this cause.
When Roshni finally found a place to park and set up, men were already beginning to form an orderly line. Thanks to the wonderful and generous people who parted with their hard-earned cash to share a meal with someone in need, we had 416 packages to give away. And we had 416 men with hungry bellies and grateful eyes lining up, ready to receive their gifts. Each package contained dates (traditionally eaten to break the Ramadan fast), a hot chicken biryani and samosas, a tub of yoghurt, fruit juice, a crisp apple and a small dessert.
Getting in line. Throughout the handout some cheeky men tried to cut in line but we sent them right to the back! The whole thing ran like a very well oiled machine!
I started handing out the meals to the men, the sun beating down on all of us. Before long my jeans were sticking to my legs, sweat ran down my back and trickled down my face. But I didn’t care. I was just so happy to be doing what I was doing at that very moment. And the men were hot too, some of them soaked with perspiration. For me it was a temporary discomfort, for them it was probably something that they have to live with all day, every single day. I kept handing out packages. I tried to look each man in the eye as I handed him the bag containing his food. Not all of them looked back at me. Some just wanted to grab the meal and go. And that’s OK. I absolutely understand that. The ones that did make eye contact though, the ones that looked me in the eye and said “thank you” and allowed me to say “you’re welcome”, the ones that connected with me, brought me such an intense shot of sheer joy that I felt like I was going to burst with happiness. I was grinning from ear to ear.
Trying to balance all the boxes in the car with Mridul’s help.
If you look closely you can see that the guy in the foreground has two different shoes on. He probably just found them on the street. That’s the level of destitution of some of these men. And it’s heartbreaking. Particularly in this supposedly RICH city.
Look at that beautiful, happy face.
Sweaty, but happy!
More happy customers.
Smiles all round. The good feelings were palpable!
Some of you might be aware (maybe because I keep going on about it????) that I’m not really loving living in Dubai right now. I don’t feel like I’m at home here. I haven’t found my “people” so I don’t feel like I belong. And this puts me in a perpetual state of lassitude. If I’m not sad, I’m feeling disconnected, switched off and isolated. Naturally, this is not a very nice way to live and I am hoping it’s just a temporary phase. But until it’s over, I’ve found that (short of actually getting on an aeroplane and getting the hell out of the country) not much alleviates this melancholia. But you know what does make things better? Getting involved in this kind of charity work, alongside one of the most generous, giving, empathetic, compassionate and hard working people I know – Roshni Raimalwala. I drove home from the handout absolutely floating on air. In fact, I was so emotional, so overwhelmed with how good I felt about what we’d done, that I actually had a little cry in the car on the way home. But it was a good cry. Tears of joy.
To give money to charity is wonderful. But to actually hand a person something that they need is something else altogether. To touch that person’s hand, and see the gratitude in their eyes and be able to elicit a smile from them is a mountain of a reward. It’s the pinnacle. It’s Everest! I wish that all of you who gave money for this handout could experience the same amazing feeling. I hope that by writing about it, it puts you there in my shoes for just a moment so that you can feel it for yourselves. Because you deserve to feel this good. You haven’t just handed over money, you’ve dipped into your humanity. You’ve reached out and changed someone’s life, even if just a tiny little bit.
So thank you. From me, from Roshni, Mrinal and Mridul, and from the 416 people that we helped to feed on the last day of Ramadan 2013.