Deborah Rodriguez and The Little Caffee Shop of Kabul

I will not retell the content of this book. There are enough reviews in internet, so if you want to get some information before reading, just Google it. Yesterday already I recommended the book for reading. It just happens to be that I know what I am saying since I have translated the book to Latvian, and because it is a rare case that translators speak about their emotions and/or  opinions on their translated books, I would like to share my experience ans spill the beans.

Kabulas kafejnīca

When I started to read this book, I knew that the author is American, But soon I become suspicious because – no way that American could know all this. I just felt that she is transferring me to Afghanistan, that I am walking the streets of Kabul. But stop: it could not be! I never had been in Kabul and I can bet that the most part of you as well. Then I decided to have a dig at the internet. Also her name seemed weird. Deborah. And Rodriguez. And writing about Afghanistan. And knowing it so well. And yes. Look what I came with. Being a hairdresser she went along with an American aid organization as a volunteer. She set up there a Beauty academy, so as to teach afghan women for something practical, to help them get some ground under their feet. She also had her own coffee shop!  And she even had been married to an afghan man. And! she even wrote these two books, one about the Beauty Academy and the second this The Little Coffee Shop in Kabul. Isn’t she amazing? Because women are like tea bags. You can only know how strong it is, when you put it in hot water.

OK, maybe her language is not as sophisticated as that of an Oxford graduate or any highly educated person. But who cares? As she admits: she is a storyteller and only then writer. And oh boy, she has what to tell. All that experience, all those stories, all that Afghan wisdom she has sucked in. Most of all I liked that tale about the seventh dove. Namely, no mountains, no seas are obstacles to doves. They like people come to Afghanistan (And to any other place you choose for living, the place which you love). And they stay there, and they never are the same again. Some of them get spirit. But not all doves (and people) are entitled to get spirit. Only every seventh dove get it, and she turns to be white, and as a spirit she rises to heaven. So let all od us be that seventh dove!

But why Rodriguez? Because she is in Mexico now. And I have heartfelt suspicion that as a woman yearning for love, she has found it. But let us read about her Mexico period in her next book, namely, Margarita Wednesdays. It is on my bucket list  as well. Honestly, I’m dying to read it. Hopefully I’ll get the book.

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