But here’s the thing: coffee is available everywhere—and often, for free (Starbucks notwithstanding). Churches offer it; my oil-changing place back home offers it; for crying out loud, even my dentist offers it, and you’d think they’d despise people drinking such teeth-staining stuff.
One summer during college, I drank a LOT of coffee, but again, mainly that was because I was cheap. I worked for a patent attorney, and one of my main jobs was to make sure there was an extremely fresh pot of coffee at all times. I was pretty poor and I hated to waste pretty much anything, so he and his clients would have a cup or two, and I drank the rest—black—all day long! I’m talking 15 cups a day, easy. I figured I was hooked for sure, but in the Fall when I went back to ACU, nary a cup of joe passed my lips.
But here in Uruguay things are different… old people and young people alike drink mate (pronounced MOTT-ay), often many cups a day. It's a culturally distinctive thing similar to the tea ceremonies of Japan--there are
special cups you use made from a gourd (also called a mate), fill it all the way with mate leaves which look exactly like dried grass clippings, pour in your hot water, and slurp it through a straw that kind of looks like a spoon. The whole process looks mildly like everyone is sharing drugs through a bong, but the slurping gives the whole thing away. Sadly, I think I would prefer it to be drugs. Why? If you know me AT ALL, you know I hate slurping or smacking sounds; actually, they make me completely nuts. Thus, so far the whole sharing the mate experience isn't one I think I'll import home for keeps.I’ll tell you another coffee story tomorrow, this one about what a perfect mother I am (ha!).
