At This Coffee Shop, Dark Roasts and Memories of Home

Black Sheep Coffee looks and smells like any other cafe, but many of its customers have known violence, civil wars and suffering in their homelands that normal caffeine addicts could not fathom.

(Video by Tileena Leighton, AIJI Staff)

By Sarah Brubeck

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. — Black Sheep Coffee looks and smells like any other cafe, but many of its customers have known violence, civil wars and suffering in their homelands that normal caffeine addicts could not fathom.

Abraham, a 24-year-old Eritrean man who fled his war-torn home five years ago to South Africa as a refugee is so afraid for his families’ safety in Eritrea that he will not allow his name to be used. With a new life in Sioux Falls, he now finds himself at Black Sheep Coffee several days a week.

When asked whether he visits every day, Abraham says: “Not every day, but a lot. There’s an Ethiopian restaurant by the corner. People from Africa come here. It’s nice to see people that look like you.”

Outside the cafe located at 1007 W. 11th St., a large Black Sheep Coffee sign states, “Can’t sleep? We can’t help.”

Chipped pea green and tan paint covers the walls of the cafe along with framed artwork, which is often rotated out. The sound of customers slurping their cafe mocha competes with the quiet click of laptop keys and the noise of fresh coffee beans being ground. A chipped chess set sits on a hand-me-down table. Muffled African languages fill the room.

Coffee talk is different in the United States compared with such talk in Africa, Abraham says. In the United States, people will talk about their families without being asked, but ask about politics and that’s rude. In Africa, politics is a daily conversation topic, but ask about someone’s family and that is considered rude.

“A lot of the Ethiopians that come in here are pretty political about what is going on in their country, and they want to tell us about it,” says Adam Haskett, one of the managers for Black Sheep Coffee. “Most Ethiopians are refugees.”

Haskett, the manager at Black Sheep Coffee, says many of his customers are Latino, Asian and Caucasian, but mainly African. The Africans come from countries as varied as Ethiopia, Sudan, Kenya. At Black Sheep, they find coffee from home.

“The most popular is the Ethiopian Harrar,” Haskett says. “It’s the largest growing section in Ethiopia where I believe coffee originated.”

Omar Gonzales has lived in the United States since 1985. He came here from Nicaragua with his family to escape a civil war in his country, in which rebels supported by the United States fought against the socialist Sandinista government. He has worked with coffee for seven years and has worked at Black Sheep Coffee for three.

When asked why he thinks Ethiopians are drawn to Black Sheep Coffee, Gonzales says, “I think a lot of it is that we sell coffee from three different regions in Ethiopia. A lot of people will order from the region they are from. A lot of people strictly stick to the light roast, and there are people who just want dark coffee.”

Inside Black Sheep Coffee sits a black chalkboard with colorful chalk filling every square inch. A list of Ethiopian, American and Asian coffees is scribbled on the board. Sumatra and Colombian decafs are listed along with French roasts from Nicaragua, Colombia and Guatemala. At the bottom right-hand corner of the board is scribbled in yellow chalk, “We brew everything here so there.”

“Mainly the African customers like to use a lot of sugar and cream in their coffee,” Gonzales says. “We burn through that. We basically give that away. They usually just order whatever we have brewed up and then add a lot of cream. The previous owner said that’s a big ‘no-no.’ It ruins the coffee.”

After the Vietnam War, Sioux Falls became a haven for many foreign refugees. Lutheran Social Services of Sioux Falls has helped other groups of refugees from the former Soviet Union, Bosnia and Sudan and helped them start a new life in Sioux Falls. Many of the main groups today are from Burundi, Somalia, Ethiopia, Eritrea and Iraq. Places like the Sioux Falls Multi-Cultural Center also assist people of all cultures in starting a productive life in Sioux Falls.

Abraham left Eritrea because of a war between Eritrea and Ethiopia. Eritrea broke away from Ethiopia in 1961 and ever since the countries have fought on and off. The war ended in 1991, but conflict has persisted between the two nations. After living in South Africa for 10 months, Abraham came to Sioux Falls because his sister already lived here. His sister now lives in Minnesota with her husband.

“I’m very much comfortable here. I’m very much successful here,” Abraham says. “I’m comfortable, but that doesn’t mean everybody is comfortable here.”

Abraham has lived in Sioux Falls for four years. He goes to school at Colorado Technical University of Sioux Falls and his favorite movies are “Mouse Hunt,” “Blade” and the “Tomb Raider” movies. He could speak English before he came to the United States, but the accents are very different between Eritrea and Sioux Falls.

“Three years ago, you couldn’t understand me,” Abraham says. “When I went to South Africa, I had trouble understanding. Good thing about American English is that you hear every word. I could learn it quickly.”

At Black Sheep Coffee, Abraham often sits at his laptop and does schoolwork or makes cellphone calls to his family who lives in the United States, Africa and Europe.

He often drinks black coffee with a cup full of milk and eats a breakfast burrito filled with eggs and covered in red sauce. Abraham lives alone and often finds himself at Black Sheep Coffee between 6 and 9 p.m. on the weekdays.

“Coffee’s coffee for me,” Abraham says. “I just get regular coffee.”

In Eritrea, it is unacceptable to serve coffee to someone who is younger than 18, but it’s perfectly acceptable to serve alcohol to a 10 year old, Abraham says. Abraham tasted alcohol when he was two or three. He says the government doesn’t encourage it, but it’s accepted.

On a Thursday afternoon, Abraham greets a man he calls Sam as he walks up to him, shakes his hand and moves toward the back of the cafe to order his own coffee. Abraham doesn’t know Sam’s real name, but he says he’s been introduced to him as Sam. He also doesn’t know Sam’s last name or anything of real importance about Sam. He’s just an acquaintance and, according to Abraham, the nice thing to do is say hello.

“I’ve met him before,” Abraham says. “I don’t remember his name, but I used to. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

Even Jonas goes by a nickname. His real name is Yonas, but he goes by Jonas because it’s easier for people in Sioux Falls to pronounce.

To an outsider sitting on the black, cushiony chair against the wall in Black Sheep Coffee, it may seem as if all Ethiopians, Eritreans and Sudanese know each other. Every time a new customer walks into the cafe, the customer greets the Africans sitting outside at black iron tables and customers sitting inside. In Eritrea, it is custom for people to stop, say hello and have a short conversation with anyone they have met before.

On a Sunday afternoon, Abraham and Teseha Hailu, a former Sudanese refugee may seem like good friends to the unsuspecting eye. Talking and sitting together at a table outside of Black Sheep Coffee, they look like they are having a friendly conversation, but they hardly know each other.

“I just borrowed his pen,” Abraham says. “You say hi, bye. If I have nothing to do and he has nothing to do, we’d find something to talk about.”

Hailu has lived in the United States for 14 years. He first lived in California for a year but moved to Sioux Falls because of the job opportunities.

Abraham says he is more likely to talk to an Eritrean before an Ethiopian and an Ethiopian before a Sudanese.

“From a mile away you can tell if they are Ethiopian,” Abraham says. “I can even tell which region they are from. If you meet somebody that you’ve known for one hour, you have to talk to them or it’s rude. If he’s not interested, he has to at least pretend he’s interested. Even if I don’t know him, I can’t just walk out and not say hi.”