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A taste of home.


One thing I told John as we left the Americas and were hurtled through air and clouds toward Asia, was that there was something I knew I’d miss— coffeeshops. My enjoyment of spending time in coffeeshops blossomed during my first couple years at college. It wasn’t about the coffee (being more of a tea drinker myself), but the atmosphere. The atmosphere would make or break my experience. I wanted a room that would invite me in and ask me to sit a spell— maybe spend time chatting with friends, drawing, reading, or writing.

Cup of Cappuccino from Hyderabad This is John’s cappuccino at the coffee shop down the street. Mmmmmmm.

The last coffee shop I visited in Minneapolis before John and I left Bethany was a Dunn Brothers, right next to the library. I went there and ordered a nice steaming cup of tea, enjoying its flavour while also appreciating the fragrant smell of coffee. There I ran into a girl from John’s class who had done her internship the previous year in India. We talked about it, as well as some of her experiences before Aria demanded that we leave.:-)
Now, living in India has become a reality. It is very different from anything I have yet experienced and I’ve been craving a taste of something familiar. God, of course, knew this and dropped a gift in my lap. John came home from work one day and mentioned that he’d seen not only one, but two coffeeshops about one and a half or two kilometres from our apartment. So on Saturday we decided to visit one of them that is called “Café: Coffee Day”. The auto rickshaw dropped us off at the front entrance and we walked through the many tables and chairs in the patio area, and then into the cool air-conditioned interior. What happiness I felt to see a poster board up advertising frappés, mochas, espressos and cappuccinos! I found myself incredulous. The people were all young, many of them in “hip” clothing, enjoying times with friends. One guy asked to snap a picture of Aria with his cell phone (we feel like celebrities wherever we go!). We savoured our drinks (an almond frappé and a mocha on the rocks) and enjoyed the comfortable couches.
The next day we decided to check out the other one, called “Barista”. This one expressed some Italian flair and I enjoyed a cappuccino reminiscent of those I’d enjoyed in Italy. This place also had comfortable couches and chairs, and I was encouraged to see that people spent time enjoying, simply enjoying themselves. It didn’t feel like a place that would push you out because you’d already been there an hour. No, it was the type of place that said, “Please, come in. Sit a spell.” In all honesty, being in that coffeeshop was like being in one of the many in Minneapolis. It was a delightful treat— a little taste of home in the midst of all that is different.

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