Black Coffee in Spain..!
She had skin so black it was electrifying! I walked towards her mesmerized by colour and voice. “Your voice bewitches!” I said.
“Coffee?” she asked smiling at me.
“Sure,” I said and we walked outside the Iglesia de Compania de la Jesus de Valencia where I had watched as she sang as part of a choir whose drums resonated along with an ancient mass.
We sat in one of the many roadside cafes and watched amused as Spanish bystanders gave us startled looks; no one expected brown skin and black to be sitting in the historic part of the old city, making conversation and acting as if we were part of the scenery. I looked past her at the old fountain in the square and farther at bullfighting ring housed in an old arena near the railway station.
The bells started chiming and I was lost in another world.
“Coffee?” she asked again.
“Tea!” I smiled.
“No!” she said, “coffee, it’s good!”
I looked at her, her beauty, her foreignness and ease, she was about to tell me something, “Go ahead,” I said.
“His name was Kaldi!”
“Kaldi!” I said.
“He was a goat herder from the region of Kaffa, in my country, Ethiopia! One day he noticed his goats behaving in a strange manner. They were full of energy, playfully chasing each other and bleating loudly.”
I wondered what she was getting at:
“He noticed they were eating red berries from the bushes nearby. Feeling tired and slightly curious, Kaldi decided to try some of the berries. To his delight his fatigue quickly faded into a fresh burst of energy .”
“Coffee?” I asked.
She nodded, “Kaldi was so impressed by the berries, he filled his pockets with them and took them to the monastery. The Abbot hurled the berries into the fire and proclaimed them as the “Devil’s work”.
I laughed with her.
“But within minutes,” she continued, “the berries started to smoke and the monastery was filled with the heavenly aroma of roasting beans. The rich smell of coffee filled the Abbot’s nose. He placed the crushed beans in a jug and covered it with hot water to preserve their divine goodness.”
“The devils work became divine goodness!” I laughed and watched as her laughter flitted lightly ever so lightly round the square. “The abbot then took a sip from the jug and sampled for the first time, the rich and fragrant brew that s coffee. That my friend is the history of coffee!”
“Coffee!” I said to the waiter and a few minutes later she had to leave to join her group.
“Tea?” asked my wife this morning, a week after I’d returned from Spain, “no,” I said, “coffee!”
“Coffee?” she asked with a smile, “there’s a tale to tell isn’t there Bob?”
“Black,” I grinned, “an electrifying black..!”
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