To the Cafés of Argentina:

I wouldn’t even think of buying coffee just a few years ago, no matter where I was in the world. About two years ago, slowly but surely, I became addicted to coffee – but I don’t mean physically addicted; I am addicted to the world of coffee. I like knowing where coffee beans come from, learning the nuances among different preparations, and looking for the variety of tastes and smells in each cup. My favorite part of the coffee experience, however, is taking time to enjoy it.

My friends first introduced me to the taste of coffee in Washington, DC, and since I’ve started at GW, it’s been where my “coffee sense” has grown. Soon the word coffee evolved into a synonym for study, and I didn’t always mind it that way. It became an excuse to take a study break and a way to get off campus on the weekends. That really sucked me in – I love the mom-and-pop coffee shops. Each has its own attitude, and all emanate the same relaxed, happy aura. They played music I loved, and I learned to spend time with myself instead of by myself. I soon started to do homework in coffee shops instead of the library because I found that I felt more in control of my mountain of homework, essays, and studying. And seeing friendly faces in Gelbucks didn’t hurt, either!

So naturally, when I traveled to Argentina, I expected to visit coffee shops here as well. And they were every bit as unique and calming as they are back home, but the differences are stark and, I believe, wonderful for the average American. The most important and immediate difference is that coffee is assumed to be consumed in-store. To-go, or para llevar, is not the norm in Argentina – and it’s great! Whether you’re with friends or alone, you’re expected to sit at a table, wait for a waiter, order, drink your coffee and eat your medialuna or alfajores, and stick around for awhile. Waiters, or mozos, don’t do the American-style “check up” every so often – if you want anything (including the bill), you need to flag someone down. This encourages conversation with friends or just plain enjoyment of your time if you’re alone. It’s an adjustment for the impatient American extranjero.

I never realized how fast my life moved until I made this adjustment. I had time to enjoy my coffee, catch up with friends, or even read a newspaper, which many cafés keep on-hand for their customers. I learned to spend time with myself in a new way – I needn’t have to look “busy” to justify my time spent in a coffee shop. Instead, I could sit down and people watch or stare into space and daydream while I leisurely drank my café. I also learned how to better spend time with others. In the US, I took my time with others for granted, and so often I forgot to add the “How are you?” or “And what about you?” in my conversations. I’d been so focused on who’s hanging out later or what study plans are being made that I forgot to remember that my friends are real, live people who have problems and ideas and amazing accomplishments in their lives – and I want to hear about them! I wish the US would adopt the Argentine culture of openness and friendliness, discussing opinions freely and without judgment, and stopping the craziness of life to truly converse with others instead of only talking about the bare minimum.

A todos los cafés de Argentina: muchísimas gracias.

Suerte,
Janelle