the coffee run

I’d like to start by stating that I love
coffee. I started drinking coffee in my late teenage years. I can safely
say that my mother unintentionally kick started this caffeine bug.
However, back then I didn’t have the fancy espresso’s and cappuccino’s
it was good ol’ Ricoffy and eventually we graduated to Nescafe. At the
time this was defined as good coffee to me because myself and moms
didn’t know better. Mom grew up in a time where she didn’t have much and
many of the things that were new for me were also new for her. More
than anything coffee was that one ritual that gave us a moment together
to connect and catch up. This was something that allowed us to explore
the coffee we best enjoyed.

Over the years the ritual became larger
than the cup of coffee we shared. It was about being in each other’s
presence even though we both didn’t verbalize it, we both loved the time
we shared together. I remember one day after school I was mugged in
central Jo’burg, two guys had a knife to me while on lookers passed by
minding their own business as if nothing was happening. The guys got
away with my Nokia cellphone and a gold chain I received as a gift from
my mother. Usually I would go home after school but after that incident I
took a taxi to my mother’s work for a much-needed consoling session. I
was fuming at this point and I kept thinking to myself I could have
fought off these guys and ran. But thinking back, I’m so glad I didn’t
have superhero juice flowing inside me. Anyway, I got to my mother’s
workplace, before I could even utter a word she could see something was
up. Maybe its because she tried calling me and couldn’t reach me, who
knows. She got up, boiled the kettle and made us some coffee. You would
swear our mothers are professional counselors because she just knew what
to say in order to make me feel better about that whole situation. By
the time we were done with the coffee the anger of that short-lived
trauma had worn-out. That conversation will always remain close to me
because it’s then I started learning that worldly possessions are just
that.

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Over time, coffee became a sacred ritual I
did with my her, after she passed it was something that I continued to
do on my own. I decided to learn more about this beverage I had learned
to enjoy over the years. This was from learning about the various beans
and where they originated, and which one really tickled my taste buds,
to which coffee shop made the best cup. Through this journey I’ve met
some really incredible people. Shared some great cups of coffee with
them. Most of these people have been baristas and sometimes actual
owners of coffee shops. These people that have contributed to the
knowledge I have today through conversations I’ve had with them over
time.

Recently, some close friends have asked
why I don’t invite them to have coffee with them. I have never had to
explain this, but this is something that is meaningful to me and holds
valued memories. A simple cup of coffee has carried loads of
conversations with a person I love dearly over the years. Coffee has
bought calm into chaotic days, uplifted me when I felt like I’ve reached
the end.  To bring someone into this means that the person has to be
close to me and not just passing by in my life. The process of including
some people in this cafe ritual has lead me to find that it has a
sticky effect on them. Coffee has brought us closer and we’ve even
managed to engage in some deep and meaningful conversations allowing us
to know each other better. Perhaps coffee is the gateway to getting to
know someone better. However, I have found that some coffee spaces allow
for people to engage in conversation and others don’t. I love good
coffee and the spaces we get to enjoy this marvel called coffee. Through
this blog I will seek out hidden coffee treasures and talk about my
experiences.