My Days Selling Boxed Meals in the Middle East

“Don’t write off the young, middle-aged, or old as poor. Keep the toughest life going, and live the wildest life.” Wang Jianguo, an unemployed chef from Northeast China, is tricked by a crooked recruiter into going to the Middle East to sell boxed meals. He thinks he’s hit “rock bottom,” but instead becomes “a lifesaver on the battlefield.” After the leader of an armed group tastes his braised pork, he announces on the spot, “From now on, anyone who lays a hand on Chef Wang is picking a fight with my brother.” When a government army officer comes to wreck his place, Wang stands in the middle holding a pot of soup. “Eat first. Then go fight. Don’t splash grease all over me.” A United Nations observer begs him through tears, “Brother Wang, Chinese food does more than ceasefire agreements ever could!” The journalist Layla asks him, “You’re a chef. What makes you think you can stop a war?” He thinks for a moment, then answers seriously, “Because ‘love yourself, old pal.’ Everyone loves themselves, and eating is a way to love yourself.” On the night the ceasefire begins, hundreds of people line up at his food truck for boxed meals. The next day, the cover of Time shows him from behind, holding a rice scoop, with the headline: “More effective than a ceasefire agreement is a bowl of hot food.” But only he knows how many people’s tears simmered in that bowl of hot food. “Whether the fundamentals are in place doesn’t matter. What matters is that people are still alive.”