Memories

It’s getting late and I squeeze my eyes tightly. I breathe in deeply though my nose and hold it for a moment before letting the breath escape me. I take a few moments to relive some of my most precious memories in Arjo. I can feel the warmth of the fire on my face and gently blanket my being as I sit very still on a tiny stool watching Asagaduu carefully tend to the coffee for the evening. It’s dark in the 10 by 10 outdoor kitchen except for the stars peeking in between the raw wood wall slats. The sparks jump as she fans the flames and the smell of coffee says it is almost ready.

Such a process to prepare for evening coffee ceremony. Washing, roasting and placing grain for snacking in a small basket as well as doing the same for green coffee beans. Crushing the beans, boiling them in the big oversized black clay pot and gathering everyone around in the living room. Tiny little cups are passed one by one to the guests and adults first.

On special evenings we enjoy a hint of clove and fresh rue. The warmth and burn of the dark liquid brings a savory mouthful of delish. The voices around the room are speaking quickly of stories from the day, the latest in politics and news and details of next community farming day. The students rush to finish homework writing assignments in their school notebooks and the day slowly comes to an end. Each evening with the family I cherish ever so gratefully and the memories I hope will last forever.