This arrived from a fellow coffee lover. There’s a peculiarity I must explain though. Yes, I eat coffee cake and ice-cream, I enjoy biscuits with a coffee-cream filling, I get high on Pocket Coffee and delirious when the aroma of this bean wafts in my direction (or my nose points to the source). It’s the drink itself which I don’t imbibe because I find it most unpleasant; cappuccino is the closest I get.

One of them is euro coin collecting, possibly an evolutionary step from my childhood hobby of aggregating worldwide stamps and the early adulthood pastime of stocking phonecards. I remember buying Malta’s coin starter pack when we joined the euro zone in 2008 because I recognised its historical significance and I assumed that over time it would become a collector’s item. It is only now, having bought a catalogue, that I am becoming aware of the design beauty of many of these coins. Since the obverse shows objects, places or people connected to the issuing country, we are literally carrying pieces of culture in our pocket.

Postcrossing. I found a reference to this term in a Facebook posting and curious me decided to check it out. Mistake. This seeded yet another hobby. Ok, here’s what its all about. You send postcards to people you’ve never met and receive postcards from people you’ve never heard of. I am not a postcard collector per ser but I find it mildly titillating to discover that my letter box has been impregnated with colourful pieces of card from faraway lands. Makes a change from the junk mail and bills which are routinely stuffed into its aperture, doesn’t it? My initial missives have been directed to Estonia, Latvia, Italy, the US and Canada but where I receive from in return will remain a mystery until they reach my address. A thrill well worth the cost of a postcard, stamp and brief message, methinks!

Soon I’m going to have to bake another pie just to see exactly how all my free time is being eaten up!

A Postcard from Argentina

Often when talking about memories, we comment on how easily they can fade. This “gradual disappearance” made an appearance recently, surprising me as it slid out of the bottom flap of my letterbox. It was not a memory that my fingers gripped but a postcard, complete with handwritten message and two stamps, colourful and perforated.

In the 18 years I’ve been working with foreigners at an English language institute, I know just what a common occurrence it used to be to see students writing out their postcards during lunch breaks. How often was I asked about the postage costs to Germany or how long it took a card to reach its destination? I haven’t had to answer such questions in years, ever since emails and SMSes evolved from a technophile’s toy to a worker’s tool.

My own letterbox has also been affected by this transition. When once it was honoured to be a temporary custodian to these 4 x 6 inch souvenirs from afar, it is now suffering the ignominy of being force fed super-sized junk mail.

So here I am in possession of a dying breed of correspondence; this particular curio displays a collection of Argentinean silver mates (a receptacle for brewing and drinking a beverage that is popular locally). One day, will the card I am holding be as valuable as the items it displays? For now, it is my own little treasure, with its worth further enhanced by the thoughtful words inked out on the reverse.