To my
(probably imaginary) host of readers who have been wondering where I’ve
disappeared to, my apologies for the lack of posts this month. To squeeze in a
post in the month of October, I thought I’d give my first wholly cultural post:
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| Traditionally prepared Ethiopian coffee. It tastes unlike any coffee you've ever tasted in America, I guarantee it. My theory is that it's all about the jug they use to boil it in, but even if I'm wrong, my taste buds are still incredibly happy. |
As in
many countries around the world, there is one hot drink in particular that is
central to Ethiopian culture and daily life. In India it is chai, in Britain it
is tea (yes, I know, that’s technically the same thing, but you know they
prepare it differently); In Ethiopia it is coffee.
As
coffee connoisseurs already know, Ethiopia is the birthplace of the coffee
bean, and is known for its delicious coffee. The best beans are sold to
Starbucks and Trader Joe’s and other foreign companies for your enjoyment at
home in the U.S. But regardless of the quality of the bean, you just can’t get
coffee like it’s made here in Ethiopia, especially because it’s not just the
drink – you don’t take a mug of coffee to go – it’s about the ceremony that
goes with it.
The
coffee ceremony is central to daily Ethiopian culture. It’s a time when family,
friends, and neighbors gather together to drink coffee and talk. I have almost no
idea what they’re talking about, since my command of the language is not really
that strong, but it seems that the topics vary by day and by family. They’re
human, too – sometimes it’s about solving each others’ problems, sometimes it’s
about how expensive food is, and sometimes it’s about the latest gossip. More
often than not, if I’m there, it’s about me. Overall, it’s a time for relaxing
and enjoying each other’s company.
The
coffee ceremony itself is rooted in tradition. It’s always performed by a woman
(at least, that’s what tradition dictates and what I’ve observed). She starts
with unroasted coffee beans (they’re actually greenish in color – who knew?)
and a charcoal fire, and she roasts the beans over the coals while you all sit
and talk. When they’re ready, she may come around and have you smell the beans,
using your hand to waft the smell toward you. Then she goes outside and grinds
the beans by hand with a mortar and pestle, while the rest of you stay and
continue to visit with each other. Then she comes back inside and combines the
coffee grounds with water in an awesomely shaped clay pot called a jabana, and puts it over the coals to
brew. When the coffee is ready, she pours it out into cinnis, miniscule cups and saucers, and adds sugar
(lots!) to each cup. Traditionally you’re expected to drink 3 rounds of coffee,
but it seems that at large gatherings it’s acceptable to drink 2, so that the
coffee stretches farther.
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| My host sister when I was in training, preparing coffee for the family. |
The ceremony
can easily take 2 hours, and some families do it 3 times a day. My host family during
training only did it when there was a special occasion. My landlord’s family
has coffee ceremony every afternoon, and my counterpart’s family has invited me
over every weekend so far for theirs; They always have a ton of people at
theirs. Instead of having couches they have benches lining three walls of their
living room, so they can easily seat 20 people. My landlord has couches and
easy chairs, but he also has benches lining two walls behind the couch arrangement.
They’re definitely geared toward large gatherings here.
The
ceremony tells you how much Ethiopians value gathering together. However, the advent
of the TV has permanently altered the tone of the ceremony, in my opinion. I of
course wasn’t here before it became common for families to have a TV, but at
each house I’ve been to for coffee ceremony, the TV has been on during the
gathering, with varying levels of zoning out and watching it. Regardless, the
Ethiopians I’ve met and interacted with are conscious of the coffee ceremony
being a unique, central aspect of their culture, and I’m SO grateful that I
think their coffee is delicious! I might have had to pack up and come home if I
didn’t like it… it’s that important.
In addition to the ceremony, in my little town there are a number of buna bets (coffee houses) that offer cups of traditionally prepared coffee for the wonderful price of 2 birr (11 cents USD) each. These are often modest houses, made of little more than poles and tarps, but the coffee is delicious, and meets the need for coffee that bachelors and working people have, who don't have a woman at home to prepare it for them, or who don't have time for a whole coffee ceremony in the workday.
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| Here are three photos from my favorite of said buna bets. On the far right you can see another example of the traditional setup. In the background is the coal stove and the jabana, and in the foreground are the little cups. |
The
next step of course is for me to learn how to prepare coffee. I’m on my way – I’ve
bought the jabana and some coffee beans
– so all that remains is that I gather my courage and start trying. That will
be the next coffee-related post, when I’ve either triumphed and want you to
share in my success, or have royally tanked and want you to enjoy laughing at
me. Stay tuned for which one it will be!
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| My very own (still unused) jabana |
