So. Among other things, I currently work part time at a coffee shop. My first day on the Bar (pulling expressing, steaming milk -- making the drinks essentially) I was given a basic "this is this and that is that" introduction and set loose. Until someone ordered a cappuccino, when the student manager momentarily relieved me, saying "you don't make cappuccinos your first day."
Cappuccino are a little tricky: they are mostly foam, but no airy foam, very thick nearly liquid smooth heavy foam.
i think they are beautiful.
My next shift, I got to try to make one. It was a little heavy. So I decided practice trying to make beautiful foam. Hold the steamer so it just brushed the top of the milk making a cute little whisping sound; holding it so the steamer was against the bottom or side of my pitcher of milk making a more "grr-ing" bubbling noise. Pouring the milk into the latter (or caramel macchiato or mocha or...) and using a spoon to hold the foam back and
having the latte weigh like a wet cappuccino. Wet meaning a little heavier, a little more milk in the milk : foam ratio than typical because I has made such beautiful think foam that it poured around the spoon.
Trying to actually make a cappuccino yielded thick big like soap bubbles. Sigh.
I still do it, make the unintentional cappuccino if I dont really pay attention thick heavy foam when bubbling milk is called for.
It seems to me that there's an analogy here. Somehow I have fallen in love with cappuccino foam (and it always makes me think of Emily cause I know she loves foam. And usually if i drink a cappuccino it is after dinner with her) and it has become the automatic (or the fascinated consistent accident).
It makes me think of the other "defaults" in my life. I was thinking earlier about how completely I seem to have transitioned and reverted back in Georgetown in my post-El Salvador life. I work in a coffee shop, yer I don't know where our beans are grown. I don't know who harvests them and what they are paid. I knew people who left their homes for 3 months of the year to be part of the coffee harvesting and I don't think of them as I work.
One of the beautiful things about the Salvadorans is that the truly embrace life. They seem to not just "survive" but to enter life with a commitment. How can I then enter into survival mode?
Life lately has seemed like a test of endurance: work and work, pay rent for food cell phone the bus . see friends(don't be a hermit) talk and laugh and drink coffee (from beans I again do not know the origins) and ... Those friends times make m think of sophomore year. Seeing people, listening, supporting, maybe telling my story: these relationships give me life.
Working 40 hours a week is a different type of busy than anything else. Having so much time accounted for and no "work" to do when I am done. I am used to "15-18 hours of class week, lots of homework reading projects) now it is the other way around. and seeing people and listening is limited.
the connection with the cappuccino has been lost but I want to share one last thing with you: Archbishop Oscar Romero was shot saying mass 30 years ago, for being the voice (and the hear for) his people. He gave everything for his love for his people. Vive Romero. We love you look up to you and live in your memory. Vive Romero
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