I’m writing this column straight out of Bwe Kafe on the corner of 10th and Washington. I come here often to do homework, hang with friends, and write Stute articles. I was given a nice piece of advice from a very kind faculty member at the Writing and Communications Center on campus. I’m writing up my senior thesis project, and she told me that I should find a location that allows me to just lock into my work and escape from everything else. She said that doing this will allow my brain to get used to working at this location, so every time I walk in, I know it’s time to get to work. Through my time at Stevens, I think Bwe has been one of my favorite places to work.
“Bwe” means “drink” and “kafe” means “coffee” in Haitian Creole. This coffee shop shows support for Haitian relief efforts, like education and clean water initiatives. Being that I’m Haitian myself, I think I have an underlying attachment to this place, or maybe it’s just that they have such good coffee, not sure. Either way, I love it here. I’ve come to this place during really interesting times throughout my college experience.
This cafe has seen me stressing for interviews and studying statistics that I will never use while battling yet another cold from being too stressed. I’ve been heartbroken at the back table, holding back tears as Gracie Abrams plays in my ears and I struggle to focus on the finals I have to study for. I’ve found myself on a date or two, excitedly sitting back as someone orders two coffees instead of one. I’ve been seated at a side table, trying not to literally kick my feet and giggle at my phone as I text someone. I’ve made friends with some of the baristas, and on good weeks at work, I drop tips in their jar to show my gratitude monetarily.
As I sit here right now, I can’t help but be my introspective and emotional self. I’m scanning the room, observing each individual as they grapple with life. The complexities within their facial expressions and the stories their wrinkles tell. How they react to the first sip of their drink or the soft gaze they might take as they zone out, looking out the window. The girl right in front of me is dressed in vibrant colors, perfect for Valentine’s Day season. She has a whole set-up at her table — coffee, water bottle, computer, planner, pen, not one, but TWO phones. Maybe she works in marketing or PR or something. She seems really coordinated, like she’d be a really good friend. The man over there is slowly turning the pages of an interesting book. It’s titled The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F***. I’ve heard of this book; maybe watching him read it was my sign to finally pick it up from the library. He seems cool, but I hope he’s alright. You never know with self-help books; sometimes they come out when someone is doing extremely well or when they’re doing extremely badly. There’s a mom who just walked in with her baby in a carriage. Her baby is old enough to want a cookie, but still too young to ask. She knows her kid more than anyone else in the world, so naturally, she got her a cookie. I can’t wait to be a mom. It seems so fun.
I hope nobody here thinks I’m weird. I just really like looking around. Humans are so funny. Typing away on laptops and contributing to the economy, this coffee shop is alive. Creating diseases and finding the cure, everyone has a story. Asking ChatGPT which companies to boycott, I love the irony. We live in such a catastrophe of beautiful noise and chaos.
Hopefully, I’m not being too deep or philosophical this week. I’m just looking around and befriending my surroundings, trying to see if my reflection lies within any one of these people. If you’re ever curious where I am when I’m not in class or at work, I’m either at home with friends or at Bwe Kafe.
