Meal Monitor

         I was 5 years old and I had just started kindergarten in Zielona Góra, Poland. Pani Wanda and Pani Ewa – Miss Wanda and Miss Ewa taught my class. Pani Wanda had short dark hair and thick eyebrows. She always wore miniskirts. Pani Ewa was fair skinned with shoulder length blonde hair. She wore long skirts that brushed her ankles when she walked.  
         I went to school all day and the school provided my meals. I sat at the fourth table in the long rectangular classroom. My chair faced the door. To my right was a wall of windows; to the left, a wall of chalkboards. I sat furthest from the window. We did our school work and ate our meals at these tables. At the far end, behind me, was the play area. In the middle of the back wall, a door leading to the washrooms separated the play stations.  
         Everyday we ate breakfast, then did spelling and handwriting. Everyday we had gym. We stretched and hopped over benches. We rolled around on the ugly pea green carpet. Nap time followed. I hated nap time. We pulled out cots and lay down. Pani Ewa turned off the lights. The windows still let in sunlight, though. I never slept. I closed one eye and pretended, but I never slept. Everyday, Paweł, the chubby boy who sat across from me, was chosen to be Meal Monitor.  
         One September morning, I skipped along the stone sidewalk on my way to school. My mom held my hand. My dad never walked me to school. He was working in Canada. My baby brother, Krzys, sat in his stroller, chewing on a plastic toy. 
          “I am going to count to a hundred today!” I told my mom. 
         “Dobrze.” – Okay. 
         “Jeden, Dwa …” – One, Two…We crossed the street.  
          “Sto!” – One hundred! We stood in front of Kindergarten Number 7. In Poland, schools don’t have names.
         “Bac greczna,” – Be good, she told me, gave me a kiss and nudged me on my way.
That morning, everything went as usual. At naptime Pani Wanda turned off the lights and told us to go to sleep. I lay on the cot, thinking how cool it was that I could now count to a hundred.
          We did math next. I liked math, but I liked art best because we could draw anything we wanted. Art came after math. I took out my pencil crayons and reached for the red one. I always drew in red. With pride, I drew a Polish eagle.
          “Prosze zchowac kretki.” – Please put away your crayons, Pani Wanda said. I stuffed my red crayon in my red pencil case and ran to the back of the class. There was a store, a doctor’s and a dentist’s office and a post office. We had to spend time at each station. The store was my favourite. The store was built of a big wooden frame and had a counter top. Behind the counter were shelves with empty bottles and empty food boxes. I wanted to be a cashier when I grew up. The store had a cash register. When you pushed the button to open it, the cash went “DING!” I loved that sound.
          “Dobrze dzieci, koniec zabawy!” - Ok, kids, playtime is over, Pani Ewa told us. I put down an empty bottle of BoboFruit juice and walked back to my table. She began assigning jobs.          
The assigned jobs were boring things like cleaning up the washroom or the work stations. What I really wanted to do was to be the Meal Monitor. You got to leave the class and to take the dishes back to the kitchen. I was never chosen because I ate too slowly and the other kids finished before me. Paweł was the fastest eater in the class. He was always picked.
          I didn’t like the food. Sometimes they even made us eat cold cherry soup. Cherry soup! That was the worst of all. The soup was thick and smelled like rotten milk. How could I eat it, let alone eat it fast?
          Today, we had sandwiches with pate and dill pickles and mint tea to drink. My favourite! I watched Paweł out of the corner of my eye. He was chewing slowly, cringing with each bite. His cheeks swelled like a hamster.
          “Kornelia,” I looked up. Pani Ewa was looking at me.
         “Tak?” –Yes?
         “Dzisaj, ty zaniesiesz naczynia do kuchni.” - Today, you will take the dishes to the kitchen. I smiled, picked up my plate and walked over to the cart.
          I gathered all the dishes onto the cart and set off for the kitchen. I pushed the cart eagerly. Make a left, then the first right and it will be the fourth door on the right, I kept repeating to myself. I wanted to get it just right so that I could do it again. The hallway was long and dark. The brown paint glistened on the wall. At the end of the hall, a small window let in a little bit of light.
          There it was: the kitchen. I pushed the door with all my might. Pani Ewa told me to just go in. Directly to my left there were three stainless steel pots. There was steam coming out of them. They were bigger than me. The pots frightened me. I did not want to be made into “cherry soup”. Although the kitchen was white, years of grease had covered the walls with a murky grey haze. The fat cooks, in their white uniforms and grey hair blended into their surroundings. I could feel beads of sweat on my forehead. I didn’t like the smell. It was like the cherry soup, only more so. The fattest lady eyed me. I swallowed and thought again of the contents of the soup.
          “Włóż te naczynia do zlewu.” – Put those dishes in the sink, she said.
         I lifted the trays one at a time. I had to stretch up on my toes to reach the top of the sink.
          I dropped the last tray into the sink and ran back to class. From that day, I ate my food slowly.