The aroma of Addis

| Friday February 6, 2009 00:00

ADDIS ABABA - I am sitting at the balcony of a small coffee shop watching the world pass by. I am holding a small cup of coffee and watching Ethiopians imbibe their favourite drink. An Ethiopian drinking a cup of coffee is an experience; he takes his time, he holds the cup delicately and every sip is taken before and after a long pause. And after swallowing he lets the after-taste permeate the mouth, while the eyes scan the dusty Addis Ababa skyline.

Addis Ababa is a metropolis with a particularly African feel, the dust settles on buildings and hangs in the air, reluctant to come down except after the ancient gods bring down the food of the soil, water. People everywhere, hawkers on streets, beggars on roadsides, music in the air, and the burst of colour, in the long shawls over women's faces, and the riot of tough unkempt hair on school children. However, food experts and sociologists seem to be in concert when they say that if you want to hear a people's story, find their food first. American author Vince Staten sees American history in the smoke of the barbeque grill when he declares: 'The story of barbecue is the story of America:  Settlers arrive on a great unspoiled continent, discover wondrous riches, set them on fire and eat them.'  Well if the story of a people is the story of their food, then the story of Addis and even Ethiopia in general is the story of that innocuous drink of them all - coffee. Ethiopians love their coffee; Ethiopians are their coffee. This for many more reasons than that the country is the original home of the drink. A writer in the Ethiopian Air in-flight magazine Salamanta tells an interesting story about how Ethiopians met the coffee bean.

Apparently, connoisseurs of coffee and rabid addicts of caffeine alike all owe a huge favour to a goat herder who lived around AD850. Legend has it that Kaldi, the Abyssinian herdsman, one day discovered that his goats were acting a bit too hyper for his liking, or as the writer puts it, 'behaving in an abnormally exuberant manner, skipping (standing on their hind legs) and bleating'. He discovered that the animals would every now and then nibble on some bright red berries. He tried one of those himself and the resultant excitement led him to report the matter to his wife. The couple, believing the beans are some type of holy present from the gods, took them to the priest. The priest was not amused, then condemned the beans and immediately set them on fire. However as the smell of the burning beans fused with the air, the priests changed their plans; the beans had to be special.  'The beans were raked from the fire and crushed to extinguish the embers. The Monk ordered the grains to be placed in the ewer and covered with hot water to preserve their goodness. That night the monks sat up drinking the rich and fragrant brew, and from that day vowed they would drink it daily to keep them awake during their long, nocturnal devotions' and thus the Ethiopian people found their companion in coffee. Legends aside coffee is believed to have been discovered in Ethiopia before moving eastwards carried by Sudanese slaves to Yemen and the rest of the Arab world.  Ethiopians have come to regard coffee as much more than a drink.

Coffee ceremonies are part of the Ethiopian spiritual life. ' An invitation to attend a coffee ceremony is considered a mark of friendship or respect and is an excellent example of Ethiopian hospitality,' writes Emily Doyle in her article Ethiopian Coffee Ceremonies.  

Modern Addis is most known for its coffee cafes. Customers sit on balconies sipping from small cups and watching the world pass by.   Ethiopian coffee is not only tasteful and rich; it is affordable and available in every street. The coffee you find in a small shop in the back alley, for a southern African at least, has the taste of coffee you can only find in high-end restaurants in southern Africa. However, be warned the drink served here is such a potent mix that it is often advisable to drink the coffee at three-quarters milk to a quarter coffee. Otherwise for those uninitiated insomnia may linger as a result of the caffeine intake.  At the caf at Addis View Hotel here, a cup of coffee would set you back 5 birr or P2.86. A cup of coffee, of inferior state in Gaborone goes for nor less than P10. To really understand what these pricing details mean you have to know that Gaborone coffee is to Addis coffee what a Toyota Tazz is to an Austin Martin DB7. Both may be coffees as much as both are cars, but then again that says much about the word coffee, and the word car. Ethiopians do not just drink coffee in their lives it is as if they lived to imbibe this thing. Ultimately, it may be that the story of Addis and coffee is this:

If for some reason the city woke up to find that even one of its citizens cannot access coffee, it would be the ultimate indictment on the viability of the state itself.  I gulp my coffee, and wait for the caffeine to kick in as I prepare for another press conference leaving Ethiopians in the balconies, enjoying coffee like they have done for centuries. In the streets I smell the coffee beans roasting somewhere, everywhere.  It certainly keeps you going.