iDesign
Cooking Club
Aliza
ISC 1-Ramla
It was the middle of August, and all of ISC 1 was sitting around a table with Elan, the director of a Ramla community center. "What are some things you can do?" he asked us. We went around the table, taking turns orally delivering our resumes and hobbies. "I swam competitively and I can teach swimming, I've fenced, worked on a school paper, did the debate team....er....I can cook..." "You cook?" His face lit up. "That's great! We can do a cooking club!" And thus the idea was conceived. One week later I called Chava, our city coordinator, to see when we would start. It was then she told me that Elan had changed his mind. The community center couldn't sacrifice the facilities for the project. I was disappointed, but Chava promised to see what she could do. She peddled the idea to community centers around Ramla. We advertised it as "English through cooking." Kids could practice English and learn new words, while doing something they enjoyed, and doing it with someone other then a school teacher.
After one week, Chava called me. Golani Community Center's director, Orli, an amateur baker, was thrilled with the idea. I was excited to have a project and someone who wanted me. We talked on the phone twice, and her enthusiasm made me even more energized. In the beginning of September, we arranged to meet at the Center to talk and work on the details. I had a clear idea of the project; I wanted a group of 8-10 kid, twice a week, 1 hour a day. They would be in 5-6 grade. I had grand schemes. Each week would be a different country. We could learn a little about the country, and then make a national dish. Orli had a slightly different vision. The club would be once a week, for and hour and a half. She thought the age group was appropriate, and said that we could keep it to 5-6 kids, which I had absolutely no problem with. Then I asked to see the kitchen. "Of course, of course. Follow me." Ahh, my lab. My domain. This would be my classroom for the next 3 months. I followed Orli down the hall, and stood with anticipation as she unlocked the door, opened it slowly, and ushered me in.
This was not a kitchen! The art club had been using this room for the past 5 years. Orli pointed to a sink.
"This is the kitchen."
"Umm, are there dishes?" I asked.
"Yes, right here."
She opened a cabinet to reveal a jumble to plastic plates and bowls, which had clearly morphed into art palates years ago. There was no oven, stove, or dishes. As it turned out, I wouldn't even get the classroom with the sink. I would be teaching a cooking club in a regular classroom. The Center did have a fridge and freezer. That was the extent of the kitchen facilities. Anything that would require cooking would either be done in the center's toaster oven, or I would carry the raw material home and bring it back the next week.
We decided the club would start after all the holidays. That gave Orli about 3 weeks to recruit, and me 3 weeks to make lesson plans. Orli didn't want to give me a budget immediately, but just said we would figure it out after the first lesson. One week before the first class, Orli called me; there was more interest in it then we expected. Now there would be two groups, with 10 kids each.
Two days before the first class Orli called me. "So do you want to start in 2 days or next week?" What an Israeli question! I had been planning the first class for weeks, minute by minute, step by step. The day was circled on my calendar in red. The first day I got there 1½ hours early. I was taking no chances. I was incredibly prepared, and only had a minor panic attack when the kids came 20 minutes late. The second group didn't even know we were starting that day. After the class I delivered Orli my receipts for the week. The total was 135 NIS. I didn't think that was too bad. It had included two activities. The kids had done chocolate fondue, and made cake. Considering I also had to buy plastic ware for all the dishes, I thought that was acceptable. I was wrong. Orli did the math. The kids were paying 20 NIS a month to participate. With 20 kids in the program we had a total of 400 NIS per month. The community center had no funds to contribute, and some of the kids were already having trouble paying. I did the math in a panic; that's 100 NIS per week, 50 NIS per group, 5 NIS per kid! The way I saw myself running the class rapidly changed. Big ideas deflated quickly. With no kitchen and no money there was some readjusting to do.
The second week I kept the bill to 99.95 NIS. I recycled ingredients from the week before, and instead of buying paper and plastic dishes, I took dishes from the kitchen at home and carried them all the way to Golani. The first group went smoothly enough. They were loud and crazy, and since it was already the 2nd class, we were old friends. Then the second group came. This was the first time I was meeting them. Ten 5th graders filed quietly into the room, took their seats, and listened in respectful silence as I explained the fondue activity. Then they placidly dipped their pretzels and cookies in chocolate. "This is terrible" I thought. It should be loud and noisy. They're not acting like 5th graders. It was time for an emergency icebreaker. "Everyone done?" They nodded quietly, "Okay, stand up." I explained the icebreaker that I used for my synagogue youth group all the time. The game, Oonga, if played correctly, can be embarrassing, hilarious, and a great way to learn names. In this situation, it was perfect. The kids loved it, and we played it over and over. The rest of the class the kids were relaxed and talkative. When we ended one of the kids said "what, its 7:30 already?" I was beaming. Two problems had been solved that day. I had broken the ice with Group 2, and now I knew how to save money. I could do simple cooking projects, and take up time playing games.
The games varied throughout the weeks. Sometimes I would take hours preparing elaborate English word games, other weeks we would just go outside and play tag. I would make the games take up anywhere from 25%-60% of the time in class, depending on the recipe. As I got more comfortable with the kids, I began letting them choose and teach games. When we played outside their friends would come and join us, which worked to my advantage later. Golani has a troubling reputation. A lot of times when people in Ramla heard where I was working they told me it wasn't a great place to work. They told me all the Ethiopians go there, and they are all badly behaved. I at first believed this to be negative stereotypes, and even racism within Ramla society, but there was some truth to this. A significant percent of the kids of Golani are Ethiopian, and there are behavior issues among the kids there. Roaming packs of boys (mostly Ethiopian) used to burst into our classroom in the middle of a lesson. Sometimes they banged and threw things at the windows outside our room. They were unfortunately supporting all negative stereotypes about themselves. My method of combating this was simple, but took me a while to figure out. When they came in to disturb me, I took an interest in them. I asked them their name, age, favorite subject in school, etc. By actually taking an interest in them, they either mellowed out or just left because they had absolutely no desire to talk to me. If they did stay to talk, we'd hang out for a little while, and then they'd listen to me when I asked them to stop interrupting the class. This worked, but the ethnic differences were shown in other places as well. Even comparing the two groups; Group 1 was all Ethiopian girls. They were loud and difficult to control. They didn't listen and knew very little English. Knowledge of English can be a mark of a better student, and who is distinguishing themselves in school. The second group was all Israeli kids. Their parents were Israeli, and were raised fully immersed in Israeli culture. They listened better, acted out less, and for 5th grade, their English was stellar. It was unfortunate to see the differences, but gave a greater sense of purpose to any work with group 1.
Every week was hit or miss in terms of recipes. A lot of the kids weren't used to my American cooking style. A night out at an Ethiopian resteraunt taught me why. I started to look for recipes that would be more familiar to Israeli kids, as well as internationally recognized stuff. Pizza, chocolate balls, and chocolate chip cookies were a hit. Apple pie struck out. For some reason crepe suzettes were extremely popular.
For the final class we had a Chanukah party with families invited. I put together a cook books with all the recipes we had made in the last 2 months. Each cook book had a unique cover, which I spent about 3 hours the night before doing. The crazy things you do when you don't have a printer! A friend, who worked in a nearby town, printed out 119 pages of recipes for me on his company's computer. The kids were excited to get them, and loved the different covers. We played games that had been popular for the past months, and then joined the rest of the community center. The entire center was having a Chanukah party that day, and there was a magician. The show was a good end to the party. I had to leave before the show was over. I gave each kid a hug and my e-mail address, and told them that I wanted to be kept up-to-date on what was going on in school. Parents asked if the club would continue. I didn't know if someone else would do it, but it was time for me to make my exit.
