Almaz, the Coffee Lady at the Addis Ababa Hilton

Drinking coffee is not the act of shoveling smoldering hot fluids down one’s throat, but the act of sipping, contemplating, breathing, and day dreaming. I had forgotten how delicious coffee can be; how soothing an effect it can have on me; and how therapeutic it is to my soul.

Almaz, the Diamond of Abyssinia, managed to hold a circle of sanity in the middle of a crazy world. Every morning during my stay in Addis Ababa, I headed for the peace of the coffee circle and towards Almaz, its High Queen. This rhythm was catching, and by the third day, I found myself blending in, and coffee will never be the same again. The singular pleasure of enjoying a cup of coffee has turned communal and I looked forward to it. I was able to find a moment for myself among the nondescript coffee revelers. As the rest of the hotel lobby was hustling and bustling, the coffee drinkers were in a different time zone.

Every day, before I left for the melee of arms, legs, and raised dust as the people of Addis went about their business in the sprawling city of five million, I journeyed hypnotically for my dose of sanity in the domain of Almaz. During my travels to Ethiopia, there was nothing as comforting in the early hours that precede a long day of meetings as the gentle smile of the coffee lady or the simple taste of the coffee she served. As I headed down from my room in the wee hours of the morning, blissfully anticipating that coffee, soft aroma of incents leaked into the elevator, heightening my anticipation. I approached the coffee corner, where men sat sipping meditatively on the little cups of dark coffee, and invariably found Almaz waiting to serve me my first cup.

There she was, so majestic in her splendor and her modest yet stunning beauty, sitting atop the raised coffee corner, above everyone else, as she looked down onto her subjects. To welcome me and demonstrate her acceptance of the newcomer into her flock, and with an intoxicating smile, she sprinkles the Etan onto the hot coals causing the smoke to rise and the sweet aroma of the incents to engulf the entire corner. Then, with her eyes, she points to the stool I’m to sit in and picks up the coffee Jebenah that’s been percolating on the Midja full of hot coals, and pours my first cup of coffee into the round Sini. She leans towards me, and with both hands around the Sini, she hands it to me with the grace of a ballet dancer and the courtesy and confidence of royalty.

Drinking the coffee, I realize how surrendering to Almaz’s persuading powers, and the tranquility her coffee offers, balance my urge to run outside for the first meeting. I learn that nobody else in her serene circle is in a rush. This is time they keep for themselves and for her. I take a quick peek at my watch and decide to surrender and lapse into contemplative silence.

After three Sini fulls and just as quickly as bliss descends on me and I feel the warmth of Almaz’s smile and the intoxicating taste of her coffee, my Ethiopian friend walks in briskly and calls my name. He sits next to me and, oblivious to the celestial power of the Sini in his hands, he takes in a cup of hot coffee as he hurriedly tells me our schedule for the day. I stare at him groggily, and shudder to think of the nightmare of the Addis streets and the swirled dust that will penetrate every orifice of my body. I hesitate for a second, then, with a sigh, I pull myself to my feet, trying to muster the will to face the real world. As we walk outside, I look back at the coffee corner and think “I will always have Almaz.” She gave me a whole new meaning to having coffee. It is not the act of shoveling smoldering hot fluids down one’s throat, but the act of sipping, contemplating, breathing, and day dreaming.

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“The need to surrender is one of the great paradoxes of love. Surrender may seem like giving up. Or giving in. But in reality we are strengthened when we actively choose to make ourselves vulnerable. We are empowered by sharing our deepest self with another person, offering him or her our heart, our soul, our life. Surrender is an act of free will. A sacred trust.”
Ellen Sue Stern