I was photographing the tiny rented home of a family in the process of building their own home, thanks to Habitat for Humanity.
There I was humbled and honoured at the same time.
The mum (she lived in the one-room hut not much bigger than my garden shed with her husband and five children, all sharing one single bed) commenced the classic Ethiopian coffee ceremony.
Crouching on the floor (there were no table or chairs), she roasted the beans in a flat pan over a tiny fire in the middle of the room, ground them with pestle and mortar, doing it so vigorously that the hard mud floor broke under the pressure. The ground coffee was slowly stirred into the black clay coffee pot locally known as 'jebena' and the coffee strained into tiny cups from a height of 12 inches.
Well, I’m a coffee-lover, but that was the best and most treasured cup of coffee I’ll ever have. www.habitat.org
