Coffee

On a lighter note than my last post, one of the things I am excited that I have discovered here is my ability to once again drink coffee. An avid coffee drinker, 6 years ago I began to get massive stomach aches whenever I had it even if it was highly diluted in milk and accompanied with whatever flavored syrup was available. What a place to regain this ability. An important part of the local culture, upon arrival I dreaded having to explain why I couldn’t drink coffee whenever it was offered. In fact, I was told it would be easier to say I was allergic to coffee than explain the strange circumstances that surround my stomach’s ability to digest. I dreaded not having the full cultural experience (most places serve tea as well, but there is something special about the coffee experience) or saying no to coffee at work as there is no other option than water. People would definitely understand, but I had heard tales of the coffee from a variety of people I know who have visited.

The other day, I had a new experience. While I have partaken in the traditional Bosnian coffee (coffee similarly prepared to Turkish coffee), in the ill-fated attempt to pick up my laundry, I discovered, or rather was taken to, a new place. The place delivered, on a tray to the laundromat (the place was naturally outfitted with small chairs and a table for coffee). Apparently, it is one of at least two places in the general vicinity that only serves this traditional coffee. While this doesn’t seem like a big deal, for me, it gives me the opportunity to experience interaction in a way that I feel would be a little difficult to overcome. It would be understood, but it makes connecting with others and the culture that much easier.

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