A little-recognized, yet very significant contributor to the humanitarian relief after the Feb. 6 quakes was the World Central Kitchen (WCK) organization, with whom I had the privilege to volunteer, preparing and serving food to many of the courageous survivors in Türkiye's southeastern province of Osmaniye.

WCK is a not-for-profit nongovernmental organization (NGO) devoted to providing meals in the wake of natural disasters. Founded in 2010 by chef Jose Andres, the NGO is first on the front lines, providing meals in response to humanitarian, climate and community crises.

I can say that never in my life was the job of peeling onions, garlic and potatoes, mopping floors, stirring huge cauldrons of boiling food, and serving people, such a rewarding and memorable experience. Between 5,000 to 8,000 people were fed daily from the Osmaniye Kitchen that was set up at the Bilpa Facility in Toprakkale. Many people came to the kitchen’s small dining area to eat, but most of the food prepared there was loaded into large pots and transported to over a dozen distribution sites throughout Osmaniye.

As a retiree, I have the time now to give to volunteer work, time that I never had as an elementary school teacher for 40 years.

I live in Adana, one of the least hard hit of the 10 provinces on Feb. 6. Of course, I felt the quakes, but my experience paled to nothing as I heard and read of what happened just hours east of me. The infrastructure in Adana was still intact, so people deeply affected by the quakes seemed to be receiving the help they needed. I so wanted to help, but other than donating goods, saw no way to personally assist. That changed after hearing from friends, a retiree couple, Leslie and Neil, colleagues of mine from our many years teaching together at Incirlik Air Base in Adana.

They had arrived for their "return to Türkiye" vacation on the night of the quakes. Prior to their jobs as teachers, they worked for years with the Peace Corps and were familiar with crisis intervention. Within the quake days, they connected with a lead member of the WCK team and committed to the mission: helping to provide food for the homeless victims of the quakes. I joined up, along with another mutual Scottish retired friend, Karen, and together the four of us began our daily travels from Adana to Osmaniye, the closest WCK site to Adana in need of our assistance.

Everything's changed

The Feb. 6 tremors created a camaraderie among the people who experienced them, even among strangers. For many weeks after, you could see it on the faces and in the eyes of everyone you met. A common knowledge that we all went through the same terrible event and were still feeling it at a conscious level. But there were some, both adults and children, who looked empty and hollow and wore no expression at all, just blank. Like the person they were was either gone or buried deep inside and couldn’t come out. Adding to that was the fear that at any moment it could happen again, especially given that strong aftershocks continued for many weeks. Our individual experiences, though different for each person, left us with a fear and anxiety that surrounded us and was very palpable. It became hard to focus on simple daily activities. Routines were disrupted. Formerly pleasurable activities no longer brought joy. For the four of us, the opportunity to work with WCK in Osmaniye was a total catharsis. It takes an incredible amount of organization, teamwork, planning and manpower to operate a kitchen that daily feeds thousands. There was no time to worry or fret over recent events or what might happen.

The Osmaniye team worked hard; there were no slackers. Even as foreigners, we were welcomed as one of the family, part of the WCK Team. Every day we all smiled and laughed, told jokes, took our breaks together, ate together and even sang together. I gained a true understanding of how resilient people can be after learning that many of these same workers, the ones who welcomed me each day with smiles and hugs, had lost their homes and were living in tents. Many had lost loved ones and friends. Some now had nothing. Fortunately, unlike we four volunteer retirees, WCK provided payment for the local hires. A meager wage, however, is not enough to heal and replace the loss these people experienced. And yet here they were, often working from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m., with smiles on their faces, showing kindness to everyone.

Serving and cleaning up after the survivors who came daily to eat became almost an honor. It was humbling to have the opportunity to help and serve people who once had full lives but as a result of this horrific tragedy were forced to stand in line daily to get food just to survive. It truly defined the value and reason for displaying dignity to our fellow human beings – something that we see less and less of in this ever-growing "me-centered" world of ours.

Tales of fear, loss

As the days went by, I began to hear stories from the people who came that brought tears to my eyes while I listened to them retell their fear and loss. Their stories were tragic. Descriptions of racing out of their homes then turning around to watch them collapse to the ground. Listening to the sounds of those trapped who could not be helped. Worst of all losing loved ones, friends and pets who didn’t survive. So many lost so much. And yet, these same people would smile and be profusely thankful for the food that was handed to them when they finally got to the front of a line in which they had waited for nearly an hour so they and their children wouldn't go to bed hungry that night. Grateful simply to be alive.

Tragedies of any sort are often life-altering experiences. It’s said when something bad happens, we have the choice to either let it destroy us or strengthen us. Now, nearly seven months on and as we gain more distance from the events of Feb. 6, the great strength of the earthquake survivors is visible everywhere. People are anxious to get on with their lives and have their sense of normalcy back. I’ve seen it in Adana, Osmaniye, Kahramanmaraş and even in Antakya. The sound of music in the air coming from somewhere. Cars decorated and tooting, heading to a wedding hall. A proud mother holding her first newborn, two weeks old. People gathered under a council tent saying prayers for a beloved grandmother who died of old age. Picnickers sitting in circles on the lawn in parks.

"What is the city but the people?" William Shakespeare once said. The people in these and the other ravaged cities are strong. Turks are strong – and stoic. Those who stayed and those who returned do so out of love. It is that strength and love that will help to rebuild these cities. And time... Time really does provide the best medicine for healing, even open, gaping wounds; they just take longer and leave bigger scars.

What I’ve learned (or relearned in a deeper way):

- Grief and suffering take a back burner when there’s hard work to be done.

- Even through great suffering and adversity, happiness is still evident when it comes from within.

- Time is the gift that heals.

- Your own problems and little annoyances become trivial when compared to the enormous adversity faced by others.

- As awful as it is, some good can come from suffering. Suffering touches others’ hearts because it comes from wounded hearts. We tend to function day to day from our brain. When adversity happens then our heart kicks in bringing out caring and compassion, humility and strength – all good things.

*Retired U.S. Department of Defense overseas academic educator, currently teaching at TAD (Türk Amerikan Derneği) in Adana where she has lived for 34 years.