the heat bore down on the back of my knees as i climbed up, up, up.
finally making it to the top, we followed our eyes to a small turquoise house.
there we found several women weaving each other's hair, ironing their clothes,
and washing laundry in a bucket. they warmly welcomed us into their home
and with wide eyes we watched as they toasted fresh coffee beans over the fire,
transferring them to a hollowed out tree to pound into a powder.
they giggled and smiled as we excitedly observed what coffee making
really looks like up close. i watched as their lean biceps flexed and relaxed with
each pound, and within minutes the sticky beans were a fine dust.
haitians pride themselves and their coffee making, and for good reason.
WOW they do have ripped arms! Fit ladies :) And goodness, I could almost smell the aroma of the coffee beans-turned-dust through the computer. I don't drink the stuff, but it's one of my very favorite smells. :)
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