Starbucks Mocha
Currently, I am listening to Sarah Vowell’s The Partly Cloudy Patriot. I first listened to Sarah on the NPR show, This American Life. She has a very peculiar voice and a unique style of talking. Some poeple absolutely hate it, but others like it very much. I am from the second category and I like het writing as well. Here is a passage from the book, which is typical of her writing. This exemplifies why I like her. Some of you’ll like it, too. Being a history buff, this is what she thinks when she sees Starbucks Mocha.
The more history I learn, the more the world fills up with stories. Just the other day, I was in my neighborhood Starbucks, waiting for the post office to open. I was enjoying a chocolatey caffe mocha when it occurred to me that to drink a mocha is to gulp down the entire history of the New World. From the Spanish exportation of Aztec cacao, and the Dutch invention of the chemical process for making cocoa, on down to the capitalist empire of Hershey, PA, and the lifestyle marketing of Seattle's Starbucks, the modern mocha is a bitter-sweet concoction of imperialism, genocide, invention and consumerism served with whipped cream on top. No wonder it costs so much. And, thanks to Sophie and Michael Coe's book The True History of Chocolate, I remembered that cacao beans were used as currency at the moment of European contact. When Christopher Columbus's son Ferdinand captured a Mayan canoe in 1503, he noticed that whenever one of the natives dropped a cacao bean, "they all stooped to pick it up, as if an eye had fallen." When you know such trivia, an act as mundane as having an overpriced breakfast drink becomes imbued with meaning, even poetry. Plus, I read a women's magazine article called "5 Fabulous Morning Rituals," and it said that after you "bask in bed" and "walk in nature" you're supposed to "ponder the sins of the conquistadors."