Page 38 - 2019 Priory MUSE Magazine

A Memoir: Coffee and Vultures by Chloe Lahham
* “Habibti” in Arabic means “my beloved”
Smoke gracefully curled through the dusty room,liketheshadowofaghost. Itwoveits way around foldable chairs, mahogany tables, and bodies which reeked of sweet, strong perfume. The small garage was humid, and the women sitting inside were ferociously fanning themselves with paper plates while the men stuck to the plastic chairs with sweat, their bald heads red and shiny. Hookahs--of every color imaginable--sat by the legs of each chair in the room, making bubbling and hissing noises as if a witch was brewing a potion inside them. The Arab men and women laughed loudly, snacked on pistachios, andsmoked. Asoftknockcamefromthe other side of the door, and a woman with purple eyeshadow up to her dark, arched eyebrows abruptly stood up. The woman quickly exhaled smoke through her thin lips beforereachingfortheknob. Sheopenedthe door quickly, which made a horribly loud screeching noise, revealing another woman on the other side. The women who opened the door smiled, revealing gaped--but perfectly white-- teeth and exclaimed “Rania! Habibti come in, let me help you!”
The woman in the doorway, Rania, was holding a rusting silver tray, with several small cupsandalargekettle. Handingoverthetray to her sister-in-law, Rula, Rania wiped her clammypalmsonhertornjeans. “Thankyou Habibti” Rania said, as she sat down to relax.
All heads of the other family members in the garage turned once the aroma of bitter Arabiccoffeefilledtheroom. Foronlya second, all the chatter, rhythmic music, and pitter-patter of the dice being rolled seemed tostop,outofrespectforthecoffee. Itwasas ifakinghadenteredtheroom. Rulalifted the kettle over a silver cup with beautiful roses engraved on its surface. As soon as the dark- brown, sizzling coffee fell into the cup, the sound of laughter, cracking of nuts, and chomping resumed. Almost religiously, Rula poured the exact amount of coffee in each dull, silver cup. Once all the cups were filled with the burning-hot liquid, the other women stood up and began to serve the coffee. The men quickly mumbled “thank you Habibti” astheyeagerlyreceivedtheircoffee. Once everyone received a cup, the room grew silent again.
Simultaneously, each man and woman, brother and sister, husband and wife, lifted the coffee cups to their dry lips. Like wind whispering through a silent forest, a small hiss came out of everyone’s mouths, as they blew on the hot coffee. Then, as a little child would anxiously dip their toe into pool waters, each person’s lips dove slowly into the coffee. Gentlytappingtheirlipswiththeir tongue, the Arabs tested the coffee’s heat, and once it seemed safe to proceed, took another sip. This ritual continued for a few minutes:
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