Tea Time

10:00 AM and I am starting to dream of lunch. Two more hours and I will be free to indulge, not to mention lay around for two and a half hours before I am required to trudge back up the hill to work again. What do I have at home? Bread, some veggies, water. I'm out of peanut butter, only a scraping of butter in the tub and I am trying to wean myself off condiment sandwiches. Options seem limited. And then it comes to me, tea! The perfect lunch. Mama Sharon always has that amazingly full thermos, always burning hot and sweet. It a moment it's settled, tea and bread it is. My stomach gives a little rumble at the thought of it. The minutes tick slowly by as there is nothing to after this late in the morning, the PMTCT patients already taken care of. 11:00, one more hour! Half an hour. Fifteen minutes the checking of the phone gets more frequent until I'm almost checking every minute. Finally it hits that magic number, 12 and the itaboria is off and so am I. I pass my house, and throw a thought to my puppies waiting. They will have to wait just a little longer to play. Mama Sharon's door is open, like always, the light curtain fluttering in the breeze. I step into the dark little shop, say hello to Mama Sharon and the other patrons and then make my way to the chair. "Icyayi n'imigati." Mama retreat into the back to retrieve the giant thermos. She pulls out my mug, spoons one and a half sugars in because she already knows, pours in the tea, and sets down on the slightly lopsided table. She puts a bread in a tin plate and sets that down as well. Let lunch begin. I've never been a dipper before but with bread and tea, there isn't another way. Bite after soggy bite the tea soaked bread becomes lunch, and it is amazing. For a few minutes, I just get to enjoy the milky, sugary tea and feel like I belong here. There is no special ingredient, no amazing revelation of how tea is supposed to taste, only a warm, comfortable satisfaction. Finally, I swig the last of it and sit for one more moment, enjoying my wonderful lunch. I hand Mama Sharon a couple of ijana, ask hopefully if she has any eggs and then set off back home to get on with the rest of the day.