3/7/16

Lunes 3/7/16

If you go to Cuba, you drink cafe. You have no choice but to fall in love with their rich, strong, bitter brew sweetened with a mound of sugar, served to you in a tiny glass teacup that looks like it’s from a children’s toy set. An “expresso cup” I assume is the better term, but for someone who has never had coffee from anything but a mug all their life, I’d say it looks like china from a doll set. The first thing we do when we wake up is put a pot on. It’s this tiny little metal contraption, where you fill the bottom with slightly less than two cups of water, then pack 5, maybe 6 heaping tablespoons full of coffee in, seal it shut, and set it on the burner to percolate. Keep the top open so any water on the inside will evaporate out, then when it starts to boil out, close the lid and wait until it violently hisses at you, letting you know it’s done. You pour it into your tiny cups with a spoon full of sugar, stir it up, and sip it down. If a Cuban prepares your cafe, you are in for a very sweet treat. Cubans love sugar (azugar), and lots of it.

If we aren’t making cafe for ourselves, we are having breakfast with our Charleston friends, where the café is always flowing. After a breakfast at their house, Rachel and I have a routine of coming back home and cleaning, doing homework, and sometimes napping before class at 11. The last thing we do before heading back over to la casa de Charleston for class? Cafe, of course! We have three hours of classes every day, with a break halfway through—a cafe break! Café starts the day, keeps you going throughout the day, and it is the only way to end any real Cuban meal. Is this an authentic Cuban routine, or has our sleep deprived director Humberto been influencing us to make more cafe than normal? Whatever the truth, I certainly am happy with the situation.