Ooh, how wonderful is sharing food - a most precious ritual, culture to culture, home to home. Families celebrate over roasts, reward with sweet meats and show appreciation with treats. But these days sharing food is a revolutionary movement!My lovely Catalan friend Estella, who is part of the love love love of the Love Bis - Malaysia Chapter - a seeker of good people, truth and (cheap sustainable) travel, joined the ragtag group collaborating Food Not Bombs here. They cook and share food regular Friday nights..for free! Yes, yes, free food!
Food Not Bombs is a peace movement sharing vegan and vegetarian food in over 1,000 cities around the world!
Holding the belief that while people are starving not a single dollar more should be spent on WAR. Food from bakeries, packaged food from dumpsters, surplus stock are collected, cooked and shared with the community...those people...'out there'.
The immense wastage of our Western societies is ignored, government and corporate priorities are SKEWED and as a result, billions of people starve. Thusly, a loose-knitted group of activists collect free, surplus and thrown away food and cook it up to distribute to the homeless and poor, FREE....and it's yuuuuummy!
It reminds me of my first Nimbin trip. Haha. Starving and exhausted we pulled into town as the sun disapeared over the hills. The town was desolate (hippies retreat to the hills to pump water and fix solar panelling in their yurts). Our hungry bellies rumbling and not expecting to eat...
But then, a white van stopped on the main street in dim circle of street light adn two people began unpacking... a line of fold-up tables a huge feast began to materialise.
Huge pots bubbling with pea and lentil soups, fresh brown seeded loaves, steaming cauliflower and vegetable casseroles, cream cakes, chips and biscuits and plastic cups full of raspberry cordial and juice. Our eyes bulged at the miracle assembling itself on the desolate street.
From the dark shadows hairy, dreadlocked hippies emerged, torn tie-dye shirts, clinking talismans and dirt stained feet. Over soup, I chatted with a boy, Josh's age, covered in cake from stuffing his face, he had wild eyes and was living in a house in the hills making jewellery, this was his first proper meal in a while.
I was told that the man who created the feast was called Les. From his own pocket, he had been feeding people in the Lismore region every Saturday for 20 years!
There are angels among us..feeding us..and cooking up a little peace*
From the dark shadows hairy, dreadlocked hippies emerged, torn tie-dye shirts, clinking talismans and dirt stained feet. Over soup, I chatted with a boy, Josh's age, covered in cake from stuffing his face, he had wild eyes and was living in a house in the hills making jewellery, this was his first proper meal in a while.I was told that the man who created the feast was called Les. From his own pocket, he had been feeding people in the Lismore region every Saturday for 20 years!
There are angels among us..feeding us..and cooking up a little peace*
Thank you darling!! Visca Food Not Bombs!! Life to Food Not Bombs
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