This morning I drunk coffee. Proper, freshly made black coffee. Right now, this feels like as notable an event in my Afghanistan life as I’m ever likely to write about.
There is a small but wonderful group of foreign aid workers in Chagcharan town, the centre of Ghor province. One of our number has seen sense and decided to leave Afghanistan. And so I have lost a friend but inherited a coffee pot.
He had told me before of the difficulties he faced teaching his cook how to use it; how not to leave it boiling for a couple of hours, how not to then reheat it. (This is known as ‘capacity building’ in the language of international development.) Forewarned, I ventured forth into our cook’s dingy domain to supervise the process, the ritual, the art of using this wonderful piece of Italian technology.
Now, I like green tea as much as any Afghan. But oh my, the joy of proper coffee, the first I’ve had in a long month. I’m humming with the caffeine induced thrill of it.
Tags: Afghanistan, Coffee, Ghor
March 24, 2009 at 9:39 pm |
lovely… these are the best types of coffee-pot i believe. there is also a special trick, do you drink your coffee with milk?
September 26, 2009 at 9:58 pm |
Oh evansfreke, I cannot believe that you left the special trick unrevealed waiting for such a silly question.
I do! Tell us the trick wherever you are, oh evansfreke!
July 26, 2015 at 9:43 pm |
I believe that is one of the so much vital info for me. And i’m happy studying your article. However should commentary on few normal issues, The web site taste is perfect, the articles is in point of fact great : D. Good process, cheers|
February 1, 2016 at 9:05 am |
http://www.prweb.com/releases/platinumsoursop/reviews/prweb11416446.htm
[…]Seems like regular post[…]
August 5, 2017 at 6:52 pm |
very nice post, i surely love this website, keep on it