It Takes Time, So You Find Time
Ca Phe: Vietnamese Coffee
We arrived in Saigon in the deep of night after over eighteen hours of travel. The summer humidity clung to our weary bodies adding weight to the journey. The night got even longer as the trip met its first challenge. One of my bags, with half the supplies and all my clothes, did not make the final connection. Without hope that I would ever see my bag again, I halfheartedly completed the necessary paperwork at the airport. As night ceded to morning, we grabbed a taxi into town.
I did not know it then, but the missing items were only a minor inconvenience. Much bigger challenges lay ahead and not at all where I expected them to be. Nothing to be done at this time in any case and my fatigue tempered any anxiety.
Exhausted and somewhat anxious about the missing supplies and clothing, we arrived at the building housing the 2-bedroom suite I had arranged for our stay. Can you guess the first agenda item after we recovered from the journey? Despite the need to replenish my supplies, not to mention getting some new clothes (luckily, I learned a long time ago to keep extra underwear in my carry-on), the first stop in the late morning was to find a good café.
Vietnam is known for its coffee as the second largest supplier in the world. Though one can get espresso readily, I was interested in trying traditional Vietnamese coffee. Vietnamese coffee is more like a slow pour-over. It is brewed in a phin, a small metal filter-like cup that fits over a mug, and brews incredibly slowly making a rich almost espresso-like coffee though thicker and from what I understand with more caffeine. The taste was rich and compelling, transporting me for a moment internally to the pleasure arising through the senses of smell and taste. Absorbed in these sensations, my mind relaxed its hold on the worries I held. I suddenly appreciated that although the body often reacts to the mind’s attention, it can also redirect it.
Vietnamese coffee fell somewhere between an espresso and a Greek coffee. It was just what I needed. Later I also tried it with the condensed milk often used in Vietnam on an iced variety but found it much too rich and sweet for my taste after the first few delightful sips. In any case, the morning ritual at the café created a moment of reflection on the first hardship of the expedition and an opportunity to be reminded of what’s important.
Later in the trip real challenges arose and in a moment of reprieve, in the eye of the storm if you will, I found myself with my komboloi in hand, my notebook open, and a Vietnamese coffee by my side. I made the coffee myself having bought everything I needed. I filled it with the holy spirit through my presence. It took its time and thus gave back the time I needed. Everything was quiet. It was the promise of every twilight evening. In this eternity in an hour ca phe time I discovered what I needed to complete the quest.
This is another one of my coffee stories that fits within a larger narrative of a quest story of which I have hinted at in the past. A komboloi is a Greek circlet of beads commonly referred to as worry beads. I have a story in the pipeline about the komboloi so stay tuned. I also have another Saigon story focusing on the “madness of scooters” that I think you will enjoy. Look for it over the next couple of days.
A previous travel/quest story can be found here:
Here is a previous coffee story:
and coffee haiku series:
BONUS: Vietnamese Coffee: A heretical haiku
it takes time
so you find the time
ca phe and rest
With a shout-out to Paul Leonidou whose prolific (sometimes poignant, sometimes satirical) haiku explorations have motivated me to also keep writing haiku. His work is here:
