I've never been so amazed at the kind of solicitude and all-round curiousity, concern, and fanatic fervor that the mention of "coffee problems" generates in a group of Pacific Northwest Friends. Earthquakes: nothing. Student foibles: no word. People with Crops: one comment and motherly chuckles. Coffee Problems: 16 emails over a three-day period.

[On a side-note, I recently wrote a formal proposal to Amnesty International and Unicef regarding means and methods of "catching the attention of the traditional Pacific Northwestener" in order to channel "their extremely kind hearts and energy towards international crises" and generate "goodwill towards those less fortunate." I don't really have time to go into the details, but it did involving "flagging" the fact that most malnourished children, inmates punished for their political crimes, and impoverished countries "do not have access to real (or at times, any) coffee." I reasoned that a regional campaign might start with billboards like such: "Somewhere in the world, a child is having to drink Nestles coffee this morning. Wouldn't you want your child drinking the real stuff? Please, contact Unicef today." The picture I took was really telling... you can spot fake crystal anywhere... it pulled the heart-strings in ways that words cannot express. Anyhow, serious considerations.]

Speaking of shameless, since I am slowly wearing down the storage of emails to re-read, I figured I'd make a not-so-subtle move to return to the topic that garnered me so much love and affection.

After my words of bloggy sadness, I happened to casually mention (I swear it, in this instance) to my Dutch boss, A., that I "couldn't eat anything right now" because I had stomachache "due to instant coffee, I think." The next day, there was a coffee pot on my desk with a note attached to it telling me where I could get coffee, and what brands were the best. I teared up, I swear to god. Holland, Pacific Northwest, Holland...hmmmmm.

But unfortunately, it took me until two days ago to get to the grocery store... craziness ensues with the papers (not to whine or anything [really, I'm actually whining this time], but I clocked myself at 13 hours Friday, 10 hours Saturday, and 14 hours Sunday, for a whopping 37 hours of grading/prep over a 3-day period of time. Fishing is easier than that shit) and I wasn't able to shop or anything. Picture me suffering through the ongoing weeks with Nestles... eventually managing to get Lola to grudgingly not heat up my milk--which, by the way is never a consistant achievement; I sometimes still catch her either heating the milk on the sly and pretending it's for "everyone," or on her way to the microwave. Also, the water temperature was not scalding as I slowly snuck my way into temperating cold leche.

I finally decided that although I am annoyed by it all, the Leche Wars is a result of more than a simple cultural distinction. It is also a climate-difference. Right now, we are in the "cold" months (I don't generate rivers of sweat at night as well as day), which means that everyone here is cold (sweaters) and needs their scalding coffee, much as we need our scalding coffee when the rain never ceases or the snow is on the ground. For me, this fust makes me think Frappichino. For them, it makes them think super-conductors and fireplaces.

Anyhow, I got some coffee on Saturday, during a two hour break in which I downed one Strawberry Daquiri and looked longingly at my empty glass before heading home to grade grade grade and gloat over my soon to be coffee.

And yes, the Colombian coffee that filled the pot was wicked thick, had to be scraped really from one container to the next, and deposited vicious bitterness and kick on my tongue. Yes, one really should be kicked into wakefulness with such a taste as that (in comparison to wide-caliber drills). The amusing bit is what a to-do it was... Lola and Norma clustering around to see what I was doing. Norma telling me to instruct Lola on the art of coffee making, etc. I felt guilty too, because I was not thoughtful enough to make a full pot, but instead selfish and hoarding (I won't do it again). It wasn't so hard, the water hissed and steamed, the filter filtered, the water darkened, the kitchen smelled like home...

I told Lola that I would prep the coffee-pot every night, and asked her if she could turn it on at 7:30am, whether she saw me or not. I then poured (scraped) my coffee into a cup and went to the table.

At that point, Norma headed to the fridge to heat my milk and I cut her off at the pass, dealing ironically with the same issues I had already somewhat sucessfully dealt with when battling Lola. It's moments like this one that make me doubt my Spanish more than anything. It strikes me as not so confusing to say "No quiero leche caliente," but the looks of extreme confusion that phrase, or something like that phrase, generate are enough to get me suspecting that I just used a little of my seldom-used Russian. Holodna, devushka, Holodna.

One might think that I won it. Done, complete, finito. One point J., no points Coffee-Unappreciaters. Hot coffee scraped. Wafting. Joy.

This morning I woke up late, late late, after reading about subject-auxilery verb inversions, and I jumped into the shower quickly only to realize that there was no hot water. Usually, this would mean only one thing: no shower. I don't mind being dirty, grimey, smelly, etc. Nope, don't mind it. But this morning was the day after a center-of-the-sun fust day, so fusty I graded inside instead of the terrace because I felt ill when I went outside, and I was very dirty, smelly... to the point that I knew my students would comment. So, cold shower (I actually think I cried a little... like I said before, I need little excuse and cold water in the morning is a good one for me).

Then, even later as it took me longer to rinse the soap off while trying to keep out of the water, I raced to the kitchen and reached for my cup. (7:30 had long since passed). Nope.

I spent 30 seconds extremely pissed at Lola for not being able to push a button, until she explained that the coffee machine was broken and wouldn't turn on...