So Trump has won the election. The shock, the horror as the world watches America exercise their democratic right and vote in their next president according to what they believe, not what the polls and media would have them believe. Is it the right choice? Who knows. This is when I believe in sitting back with a cup of coffee and watching what happens next. Interesting times are unfolding before our eyes, we might as well sit and enjoy it with a hot cappuccino.

I could be accused of being a frivolous coffee addict, who lives from one coffee moment to the next. I’m not alone. The world has erupted into vibrant, gourmet coffee shops and corners. Coffee has become a new art, a religion with it’s own exclusive magazine. It’s about the quality of the bean, the exact temperature, allowing the coffee to bloom, and of course the creamy froth. What they forget to mention is the human element of camaraderie, quiet moments of togetherness which makes change, insane turns of events, the big unknown that much easier to face. Because we’re in this all together.

One of my most memorable memories of a meaningful, therapeutic coffee moment took place this time last year. I was sitting at Kadosh (yes the absolute best French Patisserie in Jerusalem) in town, with a lovely friend and we were listening to heart stopping, raging sirens that shook the city a street away from where we were sitting. We looked at each other, and said ‘now what?’ This was at the time of vicious stabbings that paralysed Jerusalem night life for a week. It felt like a taste of armageddon, where we didn’t know where the next knife would appear. We sat there in the radiant sunshine and shook our heads and laughed. We knew it was inappropriate to laugh which only made us laugh harder. It was a laughter that was full of nerves and fatalism and that we didn’t know what would be so we may as well savour our coffee and apple croissant as we stared into the vacant abyss of the unknown. We knew, as the sirens provided background ambience to a tragic month of terror, that if we didn’t laugh hysterically over our cappuccinos we would cry and cry and cry.

So coffee is a coping mechanism. A moment of quiet enjoyed alone or relished with friends. It’s a precious commodity, that extends beyond the quality of the coffee filter. It contains a human element that traverses all cultures, languages and religions. A dark shot of caffeine is a simple, easy pleasure that doesn’t have to be a Nespresso specialty in a china cup. It can be an Elite instant, red sachet in a paper cup, black with two teaspoons of sugar. A specialty that I’ve been preparing for builders who are fixing our house, and who love coffee breaks as much as I do, especially with a piece of vanilla raspberry cake. I’ve learnt how to say thank you in Arabic. I’ve learnt that a cup of coffee can be a smiling meeting point of our common humanity.

This all makes me believe that coffee may be the secret brew to solving the world’s problems. There’s nothing more human than drinking a cup of coffee. On the level of a black cup of coffee I can wax lyrical about the fact that the every day person is just eking out a living, providing for their family, taking pride in their children and hoping for another sunny Middle Eastern day to drink coffee in their work break. If we could keep life to the simple savouring of a cup of coffee, beyond religion, politics and past hurts. If all world leaders, old and new could remember that we are all in this together, human beings deserving of mutual respect, we could live in a peaceful world that guarantees tomorrow’s frothy cappuccino.