What would you do for a cup of coffee?

These last few mornings, I have been drinking 2 or 3 mugs of tea. Not bad, but it's not coffee. I have been craving some freshly ground, brewed strong, with a touch of half and half in my favorite mug, while I read a good novel.

Last night Reba came back from Dhaka (and whenever you go to Dhaka you always bring important things back to Mymensingh--things like flour, paper, clothes, cheeze--things you can't buy here) and brought back about 8 pounds of coffee--unshucked, unroasted, un everything. That made me excited because we have so much free time on our hands, and I have always wanted to roast my own beans. I had a vision of Reba, Darren and I drinking a cup of joe on Reba's balcony, with the full moon shining and me smiling because the coffee was just that good.

So, last night after we went out to dinner we came back and decided to start this process. It was 11:30pm. The shucking of the beans takes a while, and each bean needs individual attention. The roasting takes even longer. We had some discord about what temperature, how long, and "should they be smoking like that!?" After about 2 hours of this hoop la, the beans are roasted/burned/black enough to look like coffee beans. We put them in the blender. grind em up. Then we remember that we have to boil water for 20 minutes to kill all the germs that give us diarrhia. Then we are nearly falling alseep because it is so late. Finally the water is hot and safe, the coffee looks like coffee...we put it in the water, let it steep. We then pour it anxiously into our mugs/tea cups. Will this be the nirvana we crave?

NO. it was TERRIBLE. aweful, possibly the WORST coffee I have ever had. I will not be defeated, though. My goal is by my birthday on Thursday I will have figured out how to make it and roast it and grind it and drink it. And I will love it.

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In other news. My host family is throwing me a birthday party. My new friend Robin is coming from Dhaka for the occasion, I am going to help cook something "north american" and a good time will be had by all. Darren and I want to have fireworks, but I am not sure about the logistics of that, since we can barely hail our own rickshaws....:) I will be sure to take a few photos to let you in on the good times we have. Kakon, the mom of the family (who's 27) bought me a new salwar kameeze, 4 glass bangles, and a new nose ring for my birthday. The nose ring is a bit larger as that's how they like em here. We'll see if it suits me or not.

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This weekend we are going to Mutagatcha, where Philip and Rebecca live--it's a village dwelling that is for sure, and they have a pond. A pond we can swim in. I have been wanting to swim for a long time, because it is so dang hot here.

But, now it seems that the rainy season is back in full force. We've been having huge amounts of rain, everything is dripping wet, thunder, lightning, grey skys. It's a good change, and it is a bit cooler. In Dhaka, the roads were completely flooded, up to your thighs, and there wasa hartel (strike), so that made for a very interesting day--on Hartel days nobody goes to work, or if they go, they don't have to work b/c "its a hartel"-- I personally like hartel days because that means there are no cars or busses out with their incessant honking.

As for the guitar, we are becoming good friends. I know A, E, G, and C. minor and major. My guitar is terrible, so sometimes it sounds like I am playing out of a bucket. But I think that when I get back to the US, and I get a better one, I will be so surprised at how good I actually sound.

This is getting excessively long, but I am waiting for the rain to let up a bit....

okay, take it easy, enjoy the beginnings of autumn.
PEACE.
Cicely