Mountain-climber/philanthropist Greg Mortenson’s memoir, Three Cups of Tea, became a bestseller several years ago, which is precisely why it took me until last winter to pick it up and read it. I’ve never been good at trendy reading. But I had been hearing fantastic reviews and had picked up the book at least a few times in bookstores over the years, and I do love pretty much every kind of tea.

Then, back in November or December, I was organizing bookshelves and saw that a paperback copy of Tea was one of my newly-so husband’s literary contributions to our marriage. I cracked into the book one day, intending to read just a couple pages. But Tea is a tough one to put down. I finished it in less than two days, despite having all kinds of other supposedly important things to do.

As he appears in the book, Mortenson is an intriguing character: brash and convincing and tireless. The book’s setting sparked my curiosity too—Pakistan and Afghanistan, beyond being international hotspots of late, were also locations in which the military folks I know either had served or would soon be serving. And I was hooked on the premise that some strapping American hiker could end up being a school-builder for thousands of kids in war-rocked and rural areas halfway across the globe. What generosity! What sacrifice!

However.

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