Hi there,

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure why I felt compelled to go to Ethiopia. At first, I thought it might be a spiritual calling, a sense that something awaited me there. Looking back, it might have been a thirst for adventure, curiosity about Africa beyond its media portrayals, or a desire to connect with one of the oldest cradles of human civilization, where Lucy, one of our earliest ancestors, was discovered.

Whatever the reason, there I was, standing in the heart of Addis Ababa, captivated by the land's magnetic charm. Ethiopia, renowned for its majestic Simien Mountains, vibrant indigenous communities in the south, ancient monasteries carved into cliffs, and of course, coffee—welcomed me with open arms.

My journey, however, didn't unfold as planned. One day before I was set to board my flight, a motorcycle accident in India left me with a significant injury to my left foot. I faced a choice: remain in India to heal or follow the magnetic call toward Ethiopia.

Despite the setback, Ethiopia's allure proved irresistible. With limited mobility, I ventured forth and spent weeks in the homes of local Ethiopian families, primarily in the Amhara region. Immersed in the country's heart, I discovered the rich tapestry of Ethiopian life and its customs.

During this time, I witnessed countless traditional coffee ceremonies, an integral part of daily life. Through these gatherings, I glimpsed the profound passion and pride Ethiopians hold for their coffee. I began to understand that these ceremonies are far more than rituals—they're celebrations of life and community.

And they made me realize something that's been staring us in the face for over a thousand years: We have no idea what we're actually drinking.

The Ritual That Takes Three Hours (And What That Actually Means)

Coffee ceremonies are deeply woven into the fabric of Ethiopian society. They provide a cherished space for friends and family to gather, share coffee, and connect with one another. Since the 9th century, these gatherings have been the heartbeat of Ethiopian culture.

I thought I understood what mindful consumption looked like.

As a wellness instructor in Colombia, I'd spent years teaching people about presence, about connecting with what we put in our bodies. I understood coffee farming, the importance of ritual, the value of slowing down. But sitting there for nearly half an hour, watching the careful roasting, grinding, and brewing, I realized there was a depth to this practice I'd been missing entirely.

This wasn't about preserving tradition for tradition's sake. This was about honoring the people who grew these beans—but it was also about something deeper. Every ceremony celebrated the farmers, the land, the harvest, yes, but it was also a meditation on community, on presence, on what it truly means to receive something with gratitude.

You could taste the connection between the cup and the soil it came from.

But more than that, you could feel the intention in every movement, every deliberate pause.

I'd been teaching mindfulness for years, but I was learning it all over again—this time through my senses.

What We Lost When We Disconnected From Our Farmers

In most parts of Ethiopia, the coffee ceremony happens three times a day—morning, noon, and evening. It's the main social event within the village—a time to discuss community, politics, and life in general.

Women exclusively host the ceremony, passing it down through generations. Girls learn from mothers who learned from grandmothers in an unbroken chain of cultural transmission stretching back centuries.

These women knew exactly where their coffee came from. They could tell you about the farmer who grew it, the specific region, even the harvest conditions that year. The ceremony wasn't simply about drinking coffee—it was about honoring everyone who made that cup possible.

Meanwhile, most of us can't even name the country our morning coffee comes from. We've turned something deeply social into something completely solitary.

Every detail tells the story of the bean's journey from farm to cup. We've stripped all of that away and replaced it with... what? Starbucks loyalty points? 

The Three Rounds That Reveal Everything

The coffee is served in three rounds, each with different strength and meaning:

Abole (strongest): The first taste—bold, uncompromising, awakening Taya (milder): The conversation deepens, connections form Barek (weakest): Blessed, peaceful, complete

I started thinking about the typical morning routine I see everywhere. Stumble to kitchen. Push button. Grab cup. Drink while checking emails. The whole thing takes maybe three minutes, and most people are barely present for any of it.

The progression creates anticipation, extends engagement, and deepens the relationship. No one drinks one round and leaves. Sitting through all three rounds, I realized I was participating in something that made my normal coffee routine look pretty hollow.

That's when it really hit me. And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

How a Goat Started the World's Most Successful Drug Operation

Legend has it that Kaldi, a 9th-century Ethiopian goat herder, witnessed something extraordinary one evening while tending his flock. Several of his goats began bouncing around with wild energy, as if dancing under the stars.

Determined to find the source, Kaldi followed the goats and discovered they were munching on red, juicy berries from a nearby bush. Curious, Kaldi tasted a few berries himself and felt an immediate surge of energy.

He brought the berries to a nearby monastery. The monks brewed a drink from them and quickly realized this beverage kept them awake and alert during long, late-night prayers. They incorporated the drink into their daily routines.

Little did they know, they had stumbled upon what would become the world's second-most traded commodity. Coffee was born as a spiritual tool—a way to stay present during prayer and meditation.

Somewhere along the way, we turned it into fuel for productivity.

What War Taught Me About What Really Matters

After spending more than two months in Ethiopia, I can say it profoundly changed me. This ancient land offered breathtaking landscapes, ancient carved churches, vibrant culture, and warm smiles. Yet it also unveiled the harsh realities of our often-overlooked motherland.

Ethiopia has endured immense suffering in recent years. From 2020 to 2022, over 600,000 lives were lost in the conflict between the government and local forces in Tigray, with violence spreading to the Amhara region where I was staying.

Yet every single day, without fail, women continued hosting coffee ceremonies.

Think about that. In the middle of civil war—with violence spreading through their regions—people maintained a daily ritual centered on connection and community. Despite these hardships, something profoundly moving emerges from countries that have faced such adversity. Ethiopian people, in particular, showed me extraordinary joy, kindness and generosity—a lesson in resilience that echoes what I feel in my own homeland, Colombia.

When your daily ritual becomes essential to your identity, when it provides meaning during chaos, it transcends mere habit. It becomes survival.

The Question That Followed Me Home

Amidst this conflict and my injured foot, I discovered coffee's deeper meaning. In Ethiopia, coffee becomes a celebration of life and love, a testament to nature's abundance, and something profoundly sacred. Each cup offers a moment to pause, reflect, and connect deeply with ourselves and others.

The women I met didn't just serve coffee—they created connection. Between people, between communities, between consumers and the farmers who made it all possible.

I started wondering: What if we could bring some of that ceremony back? What if coffee brands focused on telling farmers' stories instead of optimizing for convenience? What if buying coffee meant supporting specific families, specific communities?

There's an opportunity here that goes beyond fair trade labels. It's about rebuilding the human connection that the ceremony represents.

What People Are Really Looking For When They Buy Coffee

After experiencing what coffee can be in Ethiopia, I started paying attention to how people talk about coffee back home. I noticed something: we're starving for connection, even if we don't realize it.

Here's the thing though—we're also completely full of shit about it.

The most successful new coffee brands aren't selling beans—they're selling stories. And we're buying them because deep down, we know something's wrong with our three-second coffee ritual.

Connection with farmers: People want to know who grew their coffee. Not just the country or region, but the actual families. Photos, names, stories about their farming practices. When you can connect your morning cup to Maria in Guatemala or Seyfu in Ethiopia, coffee becomes personal. Counter Culture Coffee gets this—they created the first third-party verified Direct Trade Certification program, publishing exactly what farmers receive and visiting every single farm they work with.

Ethical purchasing: Beyond fair trade certifications, consumers crave transparency. How much does the farmer actually receive? What's the environmental impact? Are farming communities thriving or barely surviving? People willingly pay more when they understand their purchase's real impact.

elevates this approach with their rating system that shows customers exactly how much farmers receive, sharing individual stories like Brayan Alvear's—whose father taught him the land's virtues.

The story behind the cup: Every bag of coffee carries a journey—from seed to soil to harvest to processing to roasting. Brands that share this story, that make you feel part of something larger than your caffeine habit, build genuine loyalty.

We'll spend 20 minutes researching which Netflix show to watch, but we can't be bothered to learn where our daily drug comes from. We'll Instagram our latte art while remaining clueless about the hands that picked those beans.

Meanwhile, companies like Starbucks have transformed coffee into a lifestyle brand completely divorced from its origins. Their "farmer support" programs are marketing theater—designed to make you feel good about your $6 latte while farmers still earn pennies.

Coffee was never meant to be a commodity. It was meant to be a bridge—between people, between cultures, between the farmer's work and your daily ritual.

I am so puzzled with the popularity of Starbucks and especially when I see these orders.

@ambernicole_21

A venti for only $5.02? Say less 😮‍💨 @Starbucks #starbucks #barista #starbucksdrinks #coffee #icedcoffee #order

What This Actually Means for You

Here's what I learned from sitting through dozens of three-hour coffee ceremonies while watching a country tear itself apart: I thought I understood coffee, but I'd been missing something fundamental.

Growing up in Colombia, I knew about coffee farmers. I understood the economics, the challenges, the importance to our culture. But I was still going through the motions—participating in a ritual older than Christianity without really being present for it. I was drinking something born from spiritual practice, but I'd turned it into just another part of my routine.

In Ethiopia, I witnessed people observing their most sacred daily ritual amidst a civil war. While their world literally fell apart, they still gathered three times a day to honor the farmers, the land, the community. They understood something I'm still figuring out—the difference between knowing about coffee and actually experiencing it.

I'm not saying everyone needs to spend three hours making coffee. I'm not even saying my way was wrong. But once you see coffee as a connection instead of just caffeine, it's hard to go back.

Your coffee can serve as fuel or it can become something more meaningful. The choice rests entirely with you.

Brand Wars: Blue Bottle vs. Starbucks

Two radically different takes on how to share the beauty of coffee. From mass to craft. From performance to passion. You choose the ritual that resonates.

Blue Bottle

Blue Bottle on the other hand, was born from a rebellion. Its founder, frustrated by Starbucks’ over-roasted beans, started roasting coffee in his own home. What began as a personal quest for better taste grew into a $770 million craft brand that rocked the Bay Area and beyond. Focused on small-batch roasting, direct relationships with local farmers, and in-house quality, Blue Bottle brought presence back to the cup.

Starbucks

Starbucks is the global giant — the mass producer, the convenience king. With over 2.25 billion cups served daily, it’s turned coffee into a ritual of speed: loyalty points, app orders, and a morning buzz on autopilot. It’s coffee as a lifestyle — streamlined, efficient, everywhere.

Ad Vault: Kenco

"Coffee vs Gangs" (2014)

An outstanding piece of visual storytelling with real social depth — what more could you ask for?

Kenco launched a bold initiative aimed at helping young people in Honduras escape the grip of gang life by offering an alternative: coffee farming. Through their Coffee vs Gangs program, they provided education, fair wages, and new opportunities — giving participants a path toward purpose and stability.

It’s a powerful example of a brand thinking beyond the product and investing in the people behind it. Not just coffee — community resilience, one cup at a time.

Lento Vibes

A bit of random inspo from around the grounds:

• Caffeine Cameos: Coffee had a big moment at this year’s Super Bowl—showing up in unexpected ads and brands. Proof that a good brew still sells. See the spots

• Peroni Goes Cool Mode: Italian beer… but make it ice. Peroni’s latest campaign positions beer served over ice as the drink of summer. Chilled or criminal? Check the campaign

• Facebook Groups Are Forever: McDonald’s brought back a 2012 Filet-O-Fish fan group for their latest ad. Niche nostalgia hits harder than you’d think. Watch the resurrection

• UGC with Power Moves: Powerade drops a TikTok challenge encouraging real people to get sweaty on camera. Grit, guts, and lo-fi energy. See the challenge

• Siri Gets Schooled: Apple’s reportedly testing Anthropic and OpenAI to replace Siri’s backend. The AI race isn’t slowing, just changing drivers. Read the update