I always imagined the end of my Peace Corps service as a
relaxing time where I would enjoy and reflect on the last chapter of my adventure in Ethiopia.
Turns out, I am ending my service with a sprint. Though I still have about two
and a half months before I return to America, time is running out at an
alarming pace. I am going to be away for the next three weeks doing (hopefully)
fun things that I will be sure to report back to you with. In the mean time, I
wanted to post something so I don’t feel guilty when it has been over two
months with nothing for my adoring fans (and by that, I mean my mom). So, let’s
talk coffee.
To say coffee, or buna, is important to Ethiopians would be
a gross understatement. Buna in Ethiopia is a way a life. A tradition. You
drink it when a baby is born, when someone graduates, when a couple gets
married, when someone dies, and everyday in between. It is the number one
export of Ethiopia and if you are a coffee drinker, you have had Ethiopian
coffee. In fact, next time you’re in a Starbucks, look at the murals on the
walls. There will likely be an Ethiopian buna ceremony pictured. I didn’t drink
coffee prior to Peace Corps and I once joked that I was going to return to
America a coffee snob. It happened. I regret nothing.
The tale of buna in Ethiopia begins in the south,
generations and generations ago. A goat farmer grazed his herd all over the
countryside. Ordinarily, the goats would munch on some grass and be content.
But the farmer noticed, when he took his livestock to this one particular area,
with this one particular plant, the goats would start acting crazy. They would
suddenly become wild and unruly animals. One day, he noticed the goats were
eating red berries. Assuming that was the cause of the goats acting so
strangely, he took some home and had his wife cook them. They ate some and soon
felt the kick of caffeine we all know and love. Eventually, people learned to
process the plant to make the coffee we are familiar with today. This is the
same story people tell in regards to how “chat” (a local drug where one eats
the leaves to get a high commonly described as a mellower cocaine) was found. I
don’t care if it’s true for one, both, or neither. It is a great story and I
love it.
Today, Ethiopians drink buna multiple times a day. When a
guest arrives or an important occasion occurs, it is tradition to have a formal
buna ceremony. But formal or not, there is a special process to making buna. So
while in America, you simply drive to Starbucks, here is how you brew buna in
Ethiopia:
Step One: Wash those buna beans! They start off green and have a film over them. It is important to wash them, sort through to ensure there are no rocks pretending to be beans, and prepare them for roasting. It is common to put grass on the floor for a formal ceremony. I’m just realizing I’ve never actually asked why, but it is a sign that people are welcome in your home.
Step Two: Roast those beans! Over a charcoal stove (yeah,
just put that stove inside. A little carbon monoxide never hurt anyone), place
the beans and keep them moving so they don’t burn. It is a fine line between
perfection and burnt that I’m still hoping to master.
Step Three: Heat that water! Ok, the exclamation point on
that one may have been overkill. Buna is brewed in a clay kettle called a
jebana. The jebana is probably the most distinguishable thing in Ethiopia. It
is unique to this country and may as well be on the flag. Every home has at
least one and it is my favorite souvenir I am bringing home (aside from actual
beans).
Step Four: Pound that buna! Now that the beans are roasted,
use a mortar and pestle to take out all your frustrations of the day. This is
the part that forenjis are often allowed to do. For about 30 seconds.
Ethiopians are all about culture sharing, but not at the cost of ruining perfectly
good buna.
Step Five: Make that buna! Put the grinds into the jebana
and let it brew. This part should be vaguely familiar. Just pretend that jebana
is a French Press. I struggle with how long to let it brew. Ethiopian women
have a sixth sense about it. The rest of us have to guess by the smell and
steam.
Step Six: Drink that buna! Yeah, this is the best part, by
far. Ethiopians put traditional stuff in their buna like sugar and milk.
Sometimes though, they add butter and salt. It is not a strange as it sounds
actually. During a buna ceremony (formal or not), you normally drink three of
these small cups (called a sini). They use the same grinds for all three sinis
so each one decreases in strength. This does not mean they get weak. The third
or fourth sini is close to American strength coffee. It is not uncommon to
drink 5-6 sinis of buna a day. On holidays, that easily jumps to 10-15. And
don’t be fooled by the small size- it is closer to taking a shot of espresso
than a shot of coffee.
This is how I became a snob. My relationship with the
glorious beverage started with it being freshly roasted and brewed in front of
me. There is no going back when that is how it starts. And the buna ceremony is
such a sensory experience. You can see the glowing embers of the charcoal
stove; hear popping as the film jumps off a bean; smell the smokiness envelop
you; feel the room grow warmer; and finally, taste the product of all that
work. There are some things I will struggle to adjust to in America. Buna
is near the top. It is not just the quality and taste. I will miss the
tradition, the feeling, and the heart of a buna ceremony. So while I’ll soon be
able to conveniently go to Starbucks in America, there will always be a part of me that knows I'm sadly just getting coffee, not
buna.
