Kopi Travelers Cafe | Chicago Bucket List
Kopi.
The word for “coffee” in a number of languages. However, it has a whole other meaning to me. It means cozy corners sitting on carpet and flat pillows. It means pomegranate smoothies and golden milk. This is the Kopi Travelers Cafe.
It somehow warm my Chicago-chilled body when I would hear Bre say, “Let’s do Kopi tonight.” Entering this cafe, we were swept into a warm and personal space. No wifi, just conversation. A space that invites the active AND the armchair traveler. We made a friend, Nativa, who served us tea and the snacks each night we popped in. You can get a margarita, ginger tea, latte, or green juice. If you want food, they have feta Mediterranean plates, Italian paninis, pastries, and anything else you can imagine from your travels. Honestly, it was the only place we visited I knew, if lived in Chicago, I would frequent. The atmosphere was thick in culture. Diversity filled the cafe, and you can tell it’s not something forced. It is something that was clearly the intent of the cafe, but they didn’t have to ask diverse individuals to come and try it out. The people found it. The humans passionate about having a unique environment where they could hold lengthy conversations with new and old friends.
Within Kopi, I caught the eyes of a stranger speaking Spanish to her date. She sipped her margarita and squished her nose up as she smiled at me. We were now friends across a cafe. Bonded by our clear enjoyment of the space.
I sat there one night alone on my more recent trip to Chicago, when a little girls iPad had died. She plugged it in next to me, but was clearly getting bored waiting. The waitress that night walked up and said, “Want something to read?” The little girl nodded. “All we have is the Wall Street Journal. Here you go.” This little seven-year-old kid sat there reading the Wall Street Journal at ten O’clock at night. If that isn’t Kopi, I don’t know what is.
“Kopi” has become a noun, adjective, and verb. Let’s go to “kopi.” Do you want to “kopi” tonight? This latte with the colored lights and traffic outside s just so“kopi.”
I want my life to be more like Kopi. That everyone and anyone feels embraced and empowered. Warm and included. Cultured. Kopi has been a reminder- a reminder of the importance of the way my home is set up. That the way I choose art, place furniture, collect books, and THE LIGHTING — I repeat. The lighting — Very important. As someone who is intentionally minimizing my stuff and my own desire for stuff- constantly saying “experiences, not things, Emily. Don’t buy it.” - I felt very challenged. It was confusing. I loved the collections of books, plants, and postcards around Kopi. It was the opposite of my “minimalist is key” vision for my life. I felt their volume of stuff is just right. It isn’t just stuff though. It’s all pieces of value that showcase art and life.
So I’ve decided. If I have a home, I will fill it with only the most important. Not necessarily ONLY the necessary/bare minimums, but only the important items to me. Whether that is the Nancy Drew book series or the Turkish style coasters. If it’s the art I buy abroad - it’s important to me. Something I felt in Kopi was HYGGE. Hygge is the heartbeat of Denmark and other winter-heavy countries. Lighting is essential to the atmosphere. That’s why we feel calmer with Christmas lights and the yellow flicker of candles. Coziness is essential for hygge. Blankets, pillows, warm colors. It isn’t bare walls and empty shelves. It’s a space filled with things that make you feel. Honestly, hygge is hard to explain. You have to read about it. Look it up!! Kopi is very hygge. Hygge is very Kopi.
If you make your way to Chicago, I implore you to check out Kopi Travelers Cafe (it is in Andersonville). It’s open late. It caters to varied dietary restrictions/choices. A place to chill and feel welcome. A place for a date, a solo read, and long conversations with old friends.
