Yesterday I got Starbucks, shamelessly. It was delicious.
I was on my way to Chico and the roommates here had guzzled the “house coffee” so I grabbed extra dollars and ran out the door. Just three blocks away is the most amazing Starbucks with the most amazing barista.
“What can I get you?” he asked (I was fifth in line and the cashier was ringing up slower that he could produce).
“I’ll have a triple shot venti mocha,” I smiled. It’s a long drive to Chico.
“Michelle will ring you up,” he said, and left to make my coffee.
“That will be five seventy-five,” Michelle smiled. She must be a part-time student with dreams of changing the world. Starbucks is the job for part-time students wanting to change the world.
Five dollars and seventy-five cents, I thought, suddenly, is forty-six rand.
My smile disappeared.
Forty six rand will buy 1 kg of ACE mealie meal, a sack of tomato and onion and beef cuts for stew. Translation: forty six rand is dinner for a family in the township – if they are working.
I have been back one month to the day.
I am standing in a Starbucks line and have become American too quickly.
Lord, let me never forget the less fortunate. Lord, let me never forget the hungry. Lord, let me never, never, never, never forget my brothers and sisters in Diepsloot.
I have to say, the Starbucks was delicious and the drive to Chico easier because of it....
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