Tea & Sympathy

There are many remnants of British colonial rule in Kenya, one of which is the ritual and hospitality of tea. The Kiswahili word is the same used in India and many other parts of the world: chai. Although, chai as we know it here in the US is not necessarily the same thing as Kenyan chai. Chai literally means simply "tea", but in Kenya it is almost assumed that the tea will be brewed in a boiling-hot mixture of equal parts water and milk. Some folks also add spices, as we do for American chai (think Starbucks chai latte, or Oregon Chai concentrate), some add lemongrass, and if sugar is not mixed in for you, it is certainly offered.

But chai is more than just a warm beverage in Kenya. (And the warm part often causes me to involuntarily smile, especially when I am sweating from the African sun while sipping my steaming hot brew). When you enter a home of any sort, you are offered a seat and a cup of chai, and are expected to sit, sip, and visit for awhile. The drink you accept is a sign of hospitality, an extension of friendship, a warm - literally - welcome, and a request for fellowship.

One of my favorite memories of shared cups of chai was as a student in 1999. Upon meeting my host family in a small village in Western Kenya, I was immediately offered chai, which I knew by then to accept. However, milk had not been agreeing with me that spring, perhaps due to lack of pasteurization in rural areas, and so I had been telling folks that I would love some chai, but without the milk, as it made my stomach sick. When I relayed this to my host mother, she gave me a bit of a sideways look (who drinks chai without milk??!!), but headed back to the other side of her tiny two-room hut to fetch me some milkless chai. Several minutes later, I realized she was brewing a whole new batch of chai just for me. It was that important to her that I be able to share a cup with her and her children. For the remainder of my stay in her joyful home (only one week or so), there was always a separate cup of plain black tea waiting for me in the mornings and afternoons, and never a word of questioning or teasing about the milk. Every cup was a humbling and endearing experience I hold dear to this day.