We’ve discovered a little piece of heaven in Mysore called Coffee Day. It’s the closest thing to Starbucks and is becoming our dirty little habit. Nearly everyday we head over in a rickshaw to the haven of air conditioning, clean tables and iced coffee that doesn’t make us sick. I love the place and its award winning Kappi Nirvana but at the same time I feel incredibly guilty for going.
Truthfully, I can get coffee like they serve at Coffee Day in a few weeks when I get back to America. It’s such a commercialized inauthentic place with us as regulars and every western yoga student in Mysore popping in daily too. Masala Chai is labeled as drinking it "for that ethnic feel." I feel a little disgusted for spending 80 rupees on a coffee when the minimum wage here is 69 rupees a day. Disgusting, I know.
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