Sunday, September 28, 2008

Coffee in the African Bush

Who doesn’t cherish a hot cup of coffee in the morning, especially on a Sunday? I certainly do, and I have never enjoyed one so much as I have in Africa. While on camping safari, I wake in my tent to the sound of the tour guide pulling out a coffee pot from the truck-- the unofficial alarm clock. I lay in my sleeping bag listening to the sounds of the Carmen Bee eaters before stuffing my sleeping bag and deflating my mattress. I slip on the clothes that I have laid out on my duffel bag. After putting the tent down, with the assistance of my tent mate, I walk to the circle of khaki chairs that served as a barrier against the African night. Maybe there were hyenas lurking about, maybe elephants so softly trodden. The remnants of last night’s fire are reduced to ash. As I drink my steaming coffee out of a tin mug, the other campers join me. We later eat cereal from the same mug before washing them and driving off on the dusty, bush road.

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