A Sip of Home

Today was an exciting break from the normal routine of life here in Chimoio. A big box arrived via DHL that my mom had sent last week, and Ricardo and I tore it open and unwrapped its contents like little kids. I now have new books to read, Out of Africa to watch on DVD, a fresh stock of Burt's Bees cremes, hair accessories, my favorite pair of red pants I'd left behind, 3 boxes of Chai tea, and a 700-count family pack of Splenda. Oooooh, life is so good right now. I am savoring my first sip of Chai tea in over four months, wearing my lovely red pants, and trying to decide which book to read first. Ricardo is happy, too, with the necessary computer parts now in hand to fix his laptop that has been out of order for over 6 months.

The aroma of the Chai brings me straight back to Austin where a cup of tea was at the center of my morning routine, and sometimes the only motivation I could come up with for actually getting out of bed. My alarm clock would start beeping at 7am. Still asleep, I'd hit snooze for at least 30 minutes. On particularly lazy mornings, I'd procrastinate and hit snooze for an hour and a half, barely leaving myself enough time to brush my teeth and head out the door for work. But as long as I had Chai in the pantry, the whole ordeal was much easier. I'd scoot Azul off my chest or head (preferred sleeping spots for a girl cat) get out of bed, put on my purple robe, and head to the kitchen.

I didn't have a microwave - something my mom tried to change each time she'd visit. "We can go to Wal-Mart, Ali. I'll buy a microwave for you. It will make your life easier." My mom has become increasingly microwave-dependent over the years, especially for things like oatmeal and frozen veggies and tea. But each time I'd refuse her offer. I liked the ritual of filling my royal blue kettle with water, selecting a tea bag, and waiting sleepy-eyed for the familiar whistle of steam escaping. Azul would jump up on the counter and help me brew my tea, and I'd have to focus my blurred vision to be sure there were no stray cat hairs floating in my Chai.

Then I'd take my cup of tea and sit at my desk in the living room to check my e-mail. Azul would follow me, jumping up on the back of my chair or sprawling out on my laptop keyboard, once again the helper cat. And there we'd sit for a good 20 minutes - reading e-mail and the headlines from the online version of O Globo, the main newspaper in Rio, drinking Chai, and preparing to face the day.

One sip of tea was enough to bring me right back. I even checked for cat hairs.