I changed a great deal while in Guatemala. My heart, my mind, my spirit, my soul, it all changed. But so did my tastes.
The son of the guy who gave us food (I feel guilty, but I don’t remember either of their names) was working for a local coffee farm. He was getting a degree in agricultural engineering, so he would be able to set up sustainable systems for farms in the area and how to make sure there were no food shortages, along with being able to make money on cash crops, such as coffee. Fun fact, at the airport, when leaving, buying coffee before immigration is half the price as buying it after getting all the way through airport security.
Anyway, this guy learning how to better his community by giving them the knowledge of how to grow crops with a sustainable model, brought us some of the coffee from where he’s working. I felt it impolite to not try it, so I added cream, sugar, and put it down the hatch. It was good. It tasted like cream and sugar. The next morning I was tired. The creamer hadn’t arrived yet. The sugar was gone. So I drank it straight. My eyes opened to a new world, a reality which I had never known before: black coffee could taste so good.
I drank a cup in the morning and a cup before bed. When I drank it in the morning, for the first time, it buzzed me. I was jittery, had the shakes, became incredibly hyper. I just wasn’t used to it. I was actually going to bed early, so I was getting around eight hours of sleep every night, and woke up feeling incredible. After that first day, though, it just tasted good. The one before bed was soothing. It was a complete lifestyle change, and I had never been so happy for it. Clockwork. I miss that about being there.
You woke up early, showered, drank your coffee, ate breakfast, drove 45 minutes, worked until noon, ate lunch, played with the kids and reached out to the community, at two do VBS, and by five back at the hotel. Then go for a swim, journal, eat dinner, do devotions and debrief for the day, drink coffee, and go to bed. It was good. It was simple. I loved it. I miss it a great deal. I definitely need a coffee maker for my new apartment, and need to go out and get some quality coffee. I never needed a lot. It was a small Styrofoam cup. But it was enough.
How do you drink coffee? What got you into coffee? If you don’t drink it, do you use something for your pick me up? It’s a bit strange for me, because for a long while I just avoided all caffeine. But this didn’t really have the same effect on me as coffee usually did.
...like butta' on your toast!
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