Today I bought a giant can of Nescafé just to get the free sugar bowl that came with it. We already have a whole set of Nescafe mugs I acquired the same way. My husband thinks I’m crazy and he keeps hiding the mugs in the deepest recess of the kitchen cupboard. But I like the Nescafé mugs. I am genuinely thrilled by our new sugar bowl. It’s a cheery red and says Nescafe across the top. I like the Nescafe stuff and I like Nescafe.
You all think I’m crazy now. I mean, Nescafé’s not just instant coffee, it’s mediocre instant coffee made by a giant conglomerate. Some people will argue it’s the most disgusting coffee on earth. Why, exactly, would I want it to decorate my kitchen?
The thing is, Nescafé is a symbol for me. When I started my aid career, I didn’t drink coffee at all. It was bitter and unpleasant and I usually got enough sleep that I didn’t need the caffeine. Then I moved overseas for my first aid job, and now I don’t just drink coffee. I drink Nescafé. And I like it. (1) It might be the most disgusting coffee on earth, but it’s available everywhere. You’re never without caffeine if you can tolerate Nescafé. (2)
Every single time a health official, a nurse, a community member or a colleague breaks out the coffee to welcome their American guest, I can pick up my cup and keep a smile on my face. Every cold morning in a guesthouse with no heat, Nescafé can keep me warm and alert. In the beginning I needed cream and sugar. Now I can drink it black. Because I learned to do that. Because this is my life now.
I don’t drag coffee beans around in my suitcase. I don’t grind my own anything. I drink Nescafé, because I’ve spent 12 of the last 15 years in places where the water gives you giardia. Because I wanted this career so badly I took an internship that left me too poor for Coca-Cola or tomatoes. I’m not a visitor. I can’t be carrying all my creature comforts with me. I live here – in Ashgabat, in Tashkent, in Cairo, in Dushanbe. I’m an aid worker. So I drink Nescafé.
(1) For a given definition of like
(2) Think I should pitch that to nestle as a new marketing slogan?
Getting there… I need milk or sugar, but no longer need both. Though I did once eat a spoonful of nescafe when there was no electricity to boil water for coffee for two days in a row in Chad. It was the only way to dull the caffeine craving… though also perhaps an indication of when it’s time to admit you have a problem.
I did just buy a coffee mug that’s also a caffetiere though, because real coffee makes me happy.
Nescafe, a tablespoon of condensed milk and hot water. Like they do it in Togo et al. Sigh. Add on a roadside omelet and baguette. Obviously I haven’t had lunch yet. 🙂
Yes, love this. I remember when I showed up in Kosovo, the third country I’d worked in outside the US, and I realized that Nescafe was there too. Nescafe is everywhere!
I don’t know if the Nescafe mugs I’m familiar with are as universal as the coffee itself, but if they are, you’re right that those are great mugs. Just enough weight to them and the right size too.
They practically mainline Nescafe in Greece. I made the mistake of having a “frapp,” as my Greek-American friends called it, the morning after I arrived in their family’s village. It was so strong for my non-coffee-drinking self that it kept me awake past my normal jet lag nap, through a Greek pre-wedding feast, and almost the entirety of live Greek clarinet music with a mic hookup. I guess I’ll know I’ve really arrived in my development work when one frapp doesn’t do that to me anymore, huh?
This makes me miss you (and your Nescafe frappacinos!) already. Also, I haven’t had coffee since getting home because even a drip coffee maker just seems like so much unnecessary hassle by comparison.
You guys aren’t aiming high enough. True nirvana is only reached once you can placebo yourself into a higher state of alertness though drinking any random hot, black and/or bitter liquid.