Espresso, lungo or ristretto? The only Arab country colonized by the Italians, Libya, like its former occupants, does not trifle with the nuances of coffee. As Ramadan approaches, fasting people are preparing to deprive themselves of their dose of caffeine during the day.

Like all practicing Muslims, Libyans observe fasting during the month of Ramadan, which begins at the end of the week. From sunrise to sunset, they are forbidden to eat and drink, including of course coffee.

In the center of the capital Tripoli, men, more rarely women, meet in front of the countless cafes, often tiny stalls equipped with imposing, very sophisticated machines from Italy.

“The coffee that Libyans drink in 16 hours in normal times, they drink it in two hours during Ramadan, following sunset,” laughs Mohamed Zourgani, who runs a cafe in the heart of the medina, the old city. .

Inherited from his grandfather who had bought it from a Jewish Libyan in the 1950s, the small business of the 31-year-old man, with a well-trimmed beard, is always full. And Ramadan does not worry him: following breaking the fast, his customers will rush to “fill themselves with coffee as naturally as one drinks water”.

The tradition of coffee dates back to the 15th century in Libya. Grown in Yemen, the beans traveled from the Arabian Peninsula to Europe, notably via Libya. Then, under the influence of the Italians, succeeding the Ottomans in 1911, the Libyans adopted the famous espresso in addition to the thick Turkish coffee, which they called “Arabic coffee”.

– Italian variants –

“The older generation is still attached to Arabic coffee, but young people mostly order espresso or macchiato” (coffee topped with a frothed milk), says Mohamed Zourgani, while his employees pour the aromatic black liquid in paper cups.

“Even in the midst of war, the Libyans cannot do without their coffee”, ironically the young boss, referring to the armed violence which has shaken the country since the fall and death of dictator Muammar Gaddafi, thanks to the revolution. of 2011.

In Tripoli, life has resumed and cafes are full. On a terrace or a stretch of sidewalk, we sometimes set up bar tables around which, sipping a “tazza” of coffee for less than one euro, we tell each other regarding the day or we grieve over the political chaos.

The hot drink menus abound with Italian variants, from espresso, for the purists, to affogato (alcohol-free), for the greediest. And as in Rome, the americano turns out to be more full-bodied than elsewhere in the world.

On the terrace of another cafe in the medina, men of all ages chat quietly over coffee. Bundled up in a down jacket and a hat, Abdel Basset Hamza abandoned his luggage store to quickly order his late followingnoon coffee.

– Caffeinated evenings –

“There’s nothing we drink more than coffee,” says the 63-year-old man with the white beard, a latte to go well in hand.

In neighboring countries, “you do not find coffee of this quality, made in this way with such machines”, boasts the trader, who also wants to drink “every morning” the Turkish-Arabic version of his drink favourite.

So during Ramadan, “we think all day regarding the coffee we’re going to drink,” he says. And directly following the sunset prayer, he has a field day, even if he claims to have reduced his consumption for his health.

An inveterate drinker since adolescence, Ali Khawaja, 24, dreads the days without coffee as every year. But Ramadan is also an opportunity to gather around the bewitching aroma of this drink.

“Coffee is on all the iftar tables”, the meal for breaking the fast, points out this young resident of the suburbs of Tripoli, leather jacket and hair carefully brushed to the side. And following iftar, “we spend the evening drinking it outside with friends”, during the long nights of Ramadan.