You might call us objectophile (people who are in love with things), but after five months of travelling we really have strong connection our kitchen container. A bright blue box, six feet long, cubic, edged, with side doors opening. For others it may look like any other container, which is going to be shipped all over the world. But ours is very different. Ours saw so many different people, cultures and cooking ingredients. So, at the end of this journey, we would like to conduct an interview now with our main character in this story: The Container
Kitchen on the Run: Containerli…. this is how we call you when we talk about you – are you okay with that name?
Container: Well, I have noticed quite early, that all you guys from Kitchen on the Run treat me with a lot of affection. “Containerli” is a bit cheesy, but that’s okay. When I think back to the year 2015 when a class of Berlin architecture students started building the kitchen inside of me, I remember how mindful they handled me. They came up with some great creative ideas for my innards. Very tasty…
Kitchen on the Run: An before that you came to us as a gift…
Container: Exactly. I was a present from a container company called Lotus. Kitchen on the Run-Cofounder Jule Schröder just called them and asked if she could have a container for a project. It was a match, right away! Ever since I have been with Jule, Andi and Rabea. They were great parents.
Kitchen on the Run: Now, let’s have a look at you: What do you have here on your side doors? And what’s your favorite „inner value“?
Container: During the past months I have collected all these names of the people who cooked in the kitchen. More than 3000 name badges are beautiful memories, I keep them inside my wing doors, close to my heart. There is a corner where most name tags are from Bari, Italy. Then here comes Marseille, Duisburg, Deventer…. and finally Gothenburg. Ah,… remember Netherlands? One crazy evening some kids started to scribble inside me with water proof pens – but I survived it all.
Kitchen on the Run: And which part of you was used most?
Container: I guess, the sink. After the daily cooking there was always a big crowd standing around the faucet, doing the dishes. I remember some young guys from Bangaledesh who were doing the dishes so rapidly. I did’t mind, they spilled water everywhere. Whenever the water tanks where full, there was this awfull electronic melody, as an acoustic signal to empty the cans. “Pour Elise” is the earworm I cant get out of my head…
Kitchen on the Run: Did you change during the trip?
Container: My collection of spices has grown tremendously. Thanks to all the Arabic and African people who used so many interesting spices for their dishes, there is now a whole shelf that smells very good and reminds me of Noailles, the Arabic market in Marseilles, where my parents used to go shopping. A couple of plates broke but nothing really was destroyed. One thing changed for sure: There are now lots of blue dots on the world map where my guest would mark where they come from. I am touched that people from almost the whole world where here..
Kitchen on the Run: Now, don’t you be kidding us! You are just a container, how can you have emotions?!
Container: I do have feelings! In Duisburg, they put a piano inside me. A choir was singing the Human Rights Declaration. I was so happy.
Some other times, I got sad: Sometimes my wooden benches would collapse and someone got hurt. I felt sorry for that. And many times I listened to the stories of the refugees. How they set out in inflatable boats to cross the Mediterrenean Sea. With nothing more than hope in their baggage. How they fled from war and violence, how they suffered from homesickness and traumatas. Even though, those were sad stories, I could feel this wave of gratitude when people cooked inside me. There was a family from Afghanistan, who lived in a big refugee camp in Germany, where they didn’t have a kitchen at all. They enjoyed the cooking so much. Later they said, that this was their best evening in Europe so far. Even though I only offer a small room, it was enough to make people feel at home, at least for one evening.
Kitchen on the Run: And what about you: Do you feel at home now? Or will you always be a traveller?
Container: Well, you know, that’s a difficult question. I guess, at heart, I am a nomad. Moving from place to place. Home is where you park it, they say these days, and it also counts for me. Nevertheless I am really looking forward to find a cosy place to spend the winter. Maybe in Berlin, Munich or Vienna… I don’t know, yet. I still have so much more to give. Do you know anyone who wants to offer me some shelter?
Kitchen on the Run: We will see what we can do can do for you. We really want to thank you for the interview and for the unbelievable trip. Or like we used to say in German: 1,2,3, Containerfrei.