it takes a village
It was our first morning in Amsterdam and I was exhausted from two days of travel that included an unexpected overnight in Reykjavik. When I woke up, yes of course I wanted coffee. Fast and with minimal fuss.
I’ve made coffee all over the world. I have used drip makers, percolators, Keurigs, Nespresso machines, French presses, moka pots, and even a hot water kettle with instant coffee over a fire. If there’s coffee paraphernalia, I am going to figure it out.
But jetlag changes everything, including one’s capabilities.
Our Airbnb came with a Nespresso and we had picked up coffee pods at the grocery store when we arrived the evening before, so this should be easy, right?
Wrong.
For whatever reason, I could not figure out how to make the damn coffee. I played around with the machine, turned it every which way, and tried to make all of my brain cells work together in an intelligent fashion to decipher this puzzle. I consulted Google and YouTube.
No luck.
In desperation, I posted a photo of the coffee situation on Instagram and asked for advice.
Luckily, 12 time zones ahead in New Zealand, a friend saw my cry for help and said she had the same machine. She DM’d me the details and I was drinking coffee within minutes. Bliss.
Shortly after that, a friend in England offered her assistance. Then one in Toronto offered her help. Then another one in California. In short order, my plight had made its way around the world and help was immediate. The power of social media.
When they say it takes a village, they’re talking about raising a child. But let’s be real, that same village supports women too. As it should be.