I have tried coffee in many parts of the world and in many parts of Peru. I certainly have a fondness for Colombian coffee. It was the first South American country I traveled to as part of a Christian Missions Team in 1993.
When I visited again with another team in 2000, I was thrilled to visit “the coffee country” once again. Our project that year included work on a somewhat-abandoned home that the hosts wanted to use as a center for kids and the elderly. When we arrived, we were shuttled off to a hotel because they had (gasp!) found a bat inside of the place.
The next morning, they took us and all of our things out to the fenced in abandoned-home. Did they get rid of the bat you ask? Here’s the funny thing, they figured there were so many, they would never get rid of them all so they figured we could just stay alongside the bats. (Ack!) We spent the week doing projects and intermittently killed bats of all sizes. We actually kind of hunted them for the first few days thinking we could rid them ourselves. No such luck!
Oh, and there was no running water on the premises either. So we were living in a bat infested abandoned home with no running water, what seems like a zillion mosquitoes and heat that rivaled India! Mind you, I know it sounds horrible but truthfully all of us had a great time, we accomplished several projects and went home satisfied that we had served the missionaries in Colombia to the best of our abilities.
So back to my indulgence…because we were living with luxurious accommodations and room service was at our every beckoned call…oh, that was in my dreams!…
There were a few working electrical outlets in the house we stayed at. Or now that I think back, maybe there was just one running from the ceiling with an extension cord hanging down partway to the floor in the doorway of the room the guys slept in (did I mention we were on mattresses on the floor?). Every morning, I would get up before the rest and have some time to read the Bible while drinking a cup of coffee.
I would connect the coffee pot to the hanging extension cord and place it on one of the benches to brew my morning cup. My dear friend, one of the hosts, was kind enough to lend me her coffee pot for this purpose and also provided me with a cup to drink from each morning. Not a mug, a plastic cup. I have no recollection why I borrowed the plastic cup instead of the mug…maybe the memory was too painful I blocked it out?
Once the coffee was ready, I would pour it in the plastic cup, my fingertips burning to the touch. At the time, I was obsessed with flavored creamers. But, in Colombia, all I could do was sprinkle a little sugar into the brew since we had no refrigeration and no way to take my cinnamon vanilla creamer down with us!
My morning coffee ritual helps me to start off my day, even now. But, thankfully the coffee pot connected to the hanging cord with the hot plastic mug experience has been put behind me. Now, I faithfully use my French press and enjoy memories of Colombian coffee with treats like this.