What would you like to drink?

Yesterday evening something groundbreaking happened in Vushtrri, Kosovo. Four young men, in a spirit of servanthood and love, planned, prepared, served and cleared up dinner for seven young women. For weeks in advanced they schemed and plotted, menus were drawn up, ties were borrowed, candles purchased, and music chosen. Most of the young women remained blissfully unaware, only obediently changing the time of our usual Saturday afternoon bible study from 4pm to 6pm. I was in on the plan, and Kayla was brought up to speed when she arrived, so we were roped in to secure attendance.

And so it was that as we girls arrived we were met by four dashing young men, spruced up to the nines in ties and shirts (seriously, I've seen about two people outside of church wearing ties, and none of them were 16), ready to show us to our beautifully laid table, resplendant with candles and napkins.

First things first, what would you like to drink? Our wonderful kamieres produced a variety of drinks and proceeded to fill our glasses, making sure at all times that their ties didn't fall onto a candle and bring the evening to a screeching halt. Along with our drinks came a salad starter which was served up for us at the table and then we were left with the assurance that should we need anything, we should just call. We swiftly took advantage of this promise, calling the boys back to fetch us more water, which although in the same room as us was just too far for any of us to get for ourselves.

For our main course we were served what I believe is actually an American speciality called "Chicken Parm". It was good, pasta, chicken, tomato sauce, parmesan. And for dessert, an Albanian dish of chilled cake, banana and sauce, topped with M&Ms. Then came the coffee, although by this point we were so completely plot (full, for you English speakers who don't have much of a grasp on the Albanian language) that we mostly just enjoyed the smell. And that picture of Kayla is her modelling the little favours that we found at our place settings.

And then, to round a lovely evening off, we watched Manchester United be rubbbish against Barcelona. An early sense of patriotic fervour which had led me to lend my support to Man U quickly wore off, although it had been hindered from the start by an inate inability to actually vocalise any support for them.

So there you have it, an evening of service inspired by Christian love from boy to girl. It honestly broke cultural stereotypes which exist both here and at home, although it is more deeply engrained here, that the women serve and the men eat. The boys were just so great, so generous and hilarious. I will happily write them all glowing references if they choose to go into the catering business.

It's better for me to avoid showing
faces on this blog, so you'll just have to come to church for the picture in it's full glory. For now, you'll have to make do with the ties...