I recently went for a catering gig that was supposed to last for 24hrs. It started the night before and we left the next evening.
In all my time being exposed to the rigours and life of a caterer which isn't many, to be frank, nothing could have prepared me for the sight I was set to witness that day or for the message it would consequently pass across.
So our services were contracted for the burial ceremony of a man who had lived his life. I say this because he was listed to be 86years old and to me that translates as a, "Call to Glory" kind of burial and not the usual, "Gone too soon" posters.
I thought our group would be the only ones catering the event or at most, one out of two caterers as it's not unusual for Nigerians to have each member of the family fend for their own guests and not work as a whole.
In this particular event, there were over six caterers. The area provided for all caterers to prepare their food was like an open space with each catering company taking up a portion. In our space, about four caterers were clamoring for a corner of their own. In fact, one of our workers had a squabble with another worker from another catering company over the space. It was that choked up.
One tip I have learned from that experience is that cooking takes up space, lots of it. Now, imagine a slightly confined area with different pots of delicacies brewing in different corners. I'm talking about eight to ten pots of delicacies. It was an epic sight for sure.
This however wasn't even the highlight for me. It was the enthusiasm and well-thought-out songs the live band was dishing out, it was the dance steps that ensued as women old and young alike erupted into a season of heavy dancing.
Oh! You should have seen women old enough to be grandmothers bend their waists and break out some weird moves on the dance floor. My colleagues and I were of course not left out. Mind you all this was taking place towards midnight.
It was a cacophony medley of sound and sensation. You could hear the sizzling sound the hot pan of oil makes when it comes in contact with meat still dripping water. The rich local Igbo dialect rushed back and forth from the mouths of the old men seated on the veranda. The heavy and timely sound from the butcher's machete trying to cut into meat and bone, thwack! The aroma of well-cooked Jollof rice wafted across our nostrils. Even the sounds of our laughter as we teased each other's dancing steps.
All these and so much more were happening at the same time. It created such an energy in the atmosphere, so strong and palpable that you could almost touch it. I found myself staying awake past the midnight hour and even though I was tired physically, my mind wasn't. I felt like I could stay awake all through the night if necessary.
Being around all that energy really triggered something in me, some kind of energy I didn't even realize I had buried deep. It's like one of my favorite scripture quotes, "Deep calleth unto deep". I rephrase this to say, "Energy calleth unto energy".
I know the importance of learning to be self-motivated cannot be overemphasized but some days you may not be strong enough to do for yourself what you need to do. In those times, you can take a page from my book and do what I did; find an environment whose energy calls out to the energy depths within you. Find those people whose vital force calls out to yours.
To be honest, some days, you're not going to have enough fuel to get your engine started and you'll need a gas station or a fuel pump. It could be an environment, it could be a person; whichever and whatever. Find your energy source and harness it, you're going to need it to run this race well.
As Deep calleth unto deep so Energy calleth unto energy!