The 'Piuk-Party'

Twelve. The ring bells. Like a horde of elephants, starving children rush out of the classrooms, reaching finally a democratic state of equality in this primitive race towards food and I am part of it.

After going down the stairs, jumping the steps two by two, our human mass overcome the schoolyard.

Since there is not enough room in the dining hall for all of us, we are assigned a 'wave'. The first wave is allowed to eat at 11:30; the second at 12 and the third at 12:30: the hated one. We are released by groups of 15 but it feels like a drop to drop. Every day, it is likely that this waiting never comes to an end.

In rank under the covered playground, some of us try to cheat, overtaking the younger and being overtaken by the older, like links in the food chain. Several supervisors are there, pretending we are civilized pupils. We all know -including them- it is not true. We all know it is the survival of the fittest.

Thus, every day it is a feeling of surprise and relief that seizes me, when I eventually enter the cafeteria, surrounded by my friends. They too, after the same struggle, managed to pass the door and to join the very selective group of the 'chosen.'

After picking my food (I stopped to be exigent a long time ago, being grateful to sustain myself, action without which I would pitifully die during recess under the wide-opened eyes of my misfortune companions), I choose my table and my seat. Here as well, a hierarchy prevails. A group of 11 years old babies is forced to split to let the big ones take the 8-seats table; they reign on the dining room like masters, spreading themselves everywhere. They are a plague, except that their power is not contagious.

When finally everybody has found a spot, more or less satisfying, the degustation can start. The program is the following: as a starter, I eat the daily diced vegetables salad. The overwhelming mayonnaise makes me consider the dish as a mayonnaise salad with vegetables and not a vegetables salad with mayonnaise. I, child, don't have an elaborated taste so it does not matter, say the adults. I feel the respect or the contempt of the grown-ups in the way they cook for me. But maybe the cheap cost of a meal plays also a role in the poor cooking of the cafeteria. The main course is most of time a meat drown in a thick and greasy sauce and some starchy food. As for the dessert, I have the choice between the coffee-flavored flan (tasteless actually) and some unripe fruits. In short, a perfect assortment for what we call 'piuk-parties', a funny game consisting in mixing all these dishes and eating altogether. Of course, it is designed for the braves only: Jeff, Maxim, Martin and sometimes some girls as well, Justine or Nadège.

I decided that I also wanted to try. I wanted to prove them I was as able to do this as anybody around the table. The day's dishes were peas and carrots, a rubbery piece of pork and some mash. I mixed everything in an empty bowl, slowly, each stirring increasing my sudden popularity. I was finally done, the preparation ready to be eaten. When I lift the spoon to my mouth, already dreading what was coming next, all my friends were looking at me, motionless, a smile of challenge and curiosity on their childish faces. The sole smell of this bite was unbearable but it was too late to back up.

The taste was even worse. You cannot know without experiencing it. My first surprise came from the incredible taste of cigaret of this awful mix. I picked the wrong day: somebody from the staff, we learnt that later, dropped a cigaret in the flan's batter. Then came the disgust of the sweet and salty unassorted tastes put together: the watery coffee cream of the flan, the sweet peas and crusty carrots got along with the sour pieces of meat coated in their nauseating sauce, already tasting that way usually.

 I did it. I could not believe it. Of course, I made a funny face as soon as the spoon entered my mouth. But I did it. The other were amazed. The little Marie, always scared by everything? Incredible. This was not a question of food, this was a question of honor. This day, I gained the respect of my friends, my classmates and even the older, who -I did not realize- gazed at me while I was inoculating the substance. From that moment, I had an assured spot in one of the best tables of the cafeteria. From that moment, I also stopped to rush to food. This was definitely more risky than not eating at all.