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.
