Tag: adventure

  • Land for Burundi Coffee

    Following @kristyjcarlson on Twitter and Instagram gets me excited about being part of this family of four that has their hearts set on helping a community in rural Burundi produce amazing coffee. I’m so happy to be a part of it.

    Building a coffee washing station in Burundi has meant taking on an obscenely huge amount of challenges and obstacles on the way to realizing the dream.  Let’s just say accomplishing something like this in Burundi has few more challenges in it than building that lemonade stand in Wisconsin when I was six.

    For months now we have set our sites on building this coffee washing station.  Finding the perfect location was key to making it a success.  After 3 years of sourcing and cupping Burundi coffee, I knew where we needed to be.  The place we were looking for was sitting in the middle of a triangle of the best coffee washing stations producing the best coffee in all of Burundi.  Besides the best coffee, it was a place where farmers are too far to carry their coffee to the nearest station forcing them to sell to local buyers at ridiculously low prices.  It has one river, bringing plenty of fresh clean water to run the de-pulper.  Sitting at the perfect altitude with a micro-climate that is unique and ideal for producing the kind of coffee that makes you (ok, maybe just me) go weak in the knees.

    Three years to make certain of this specific spot.  Months to get all the paperwork done and meet all the farmers to explain the vision.  Weeks to get all the signatures of the owners of the land willing to sell and the neighboring farmers as witnesses. Then, on the last day before signing, we find out that two of the five farmers don’t feel like selling anymore.

    What do we do?  Tomorrow we go back to the land to talk to the farmers.  The area co-op president and commune elder have talked through our vision and are coming with us to make sure that the farmers know the kind of impact this station will have on the lives of all 2,500 families in the four surrounding hills.  If they still decide they don’t want to sell are we back to square one?  No, the commune elder said that we can have the two hectors next to the spot we want that are owned by the commune.  The rivers the same, the slope is great, and the view is stunning.  He gets the vision.  He has caught hope.  He tells us that they will do whatever it takes to see us partner with them.

    We have found our spot and started to put down our roots.  This challenge is just one of many in our way, but if it was easy we wouldn’t need to do it, it would already be done. Am I Worried? No, but we are weeks away from starting to build on land that we still don’t own with money we still have not raised… It will all happen though, it will all happen.

     

    Coffee Guy

     

  • Go Do.

    Go Do.

    expat kids, burundi, kigomaI can see it faintly through the cracks.

    An ache to be more like them.

    It’s a longing for the carefree-fall-into-bed-exhausted-but-happy days of childhood,

    but it’s also more.

    My boys teach me by example that it’s better to just DO life instead of planning it to the hilt.

    Life should be an expression of our God-given essence,

    not a time to let big dreams sit dormant in our souls.

    I don’t want to study and wait and worry.

    There is wisdom in planning, to be sure

    I often say I’m “planning” to avoid LAUNCHING.

    It’s all because of fear.

    Fear of failure.

    So what?

    If we fail… do we lose?

    Who is in charge of judging it a failure anyway?

    You? Me? That other guy?

    Worst case, we learn and we grow.

    Not bad odds.

    I say, let’s GO DO IT.

  • Sometimes I want to fly away.

    Sometimes I want to fly away.

    fly away, real life moments, raising boys, long miles coffee projecthasselblad 501 C, boy at window, long miles coffee projectIt’s true. I sometimes wish there was an open window and I could just fly myself “home” to the people who have loved me from birth and the places that I have seen forever. This week has been hard for me. The “toughness” of life in Africa has seeped into my being and I have found myself wishing I could just fly away. Until you have lived it, you might never know what I mean. We all have our own challenges that are unique to us in this life, and I am not saying my life is more of a challenge than yours… but I am saying there is a difference between visiting a place like this and LIVING IN IT. If you are going through something tough this week HERE IS ME saying to you that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I am journeying too. I’m having a “tough one” too and I appreciate your bravery and the decisions you are making to pull yourself up by your bootstraps.

    I sometimes go running on the streets of Bujumbura. I’m a “gym” or “health club” (or whatever you call it in the US of A) girl at heart, but sometimes the road calls and I just have to get on it. Often, as I run, Burundians will shout out, “COURAGE! COURAGE!” I love that in both French and English this word is the same. This week, via Brene Brown’s beautiful book The Gifts of Imperfection, I learned that…

    “The root of the word courage is cor– the Latin word for heart. In one of it’s earliest forms, the word  courage had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant, “To speak one’s mind by telling one’s heart.”

    Now when people shout, “Courage!” at me I can’t help but think, “Thank you. I need it… but not for this run.”  I need courage to tell my story even when it hits bumpy parts. Courage to continue on. Courage to stay firmly on the ground for the time being.

    Love,

    me

    images DSLR and Hasselblad 501C

  • Family Post

    Family Post

    Today I’m taking a step back. Looking at the last few months in pictures. I am blown away with gratitude. I am so grateful. Grateful for the journey we are on. Grateful that we live here even though IT’S TOUGH sometimes. Grateful for the people in our lives (the ones we see every day and the ones we don’t).

    Thanks for sticking with us.

  • A Christmas round-up

    I think our whole family is finally coming out of our “we just got here” coma. We made it home to America in time for Christmas!  In case you are new to the blog or just don’t get a chance to read every post (how could you!) we’ve rounded up a highlight reel for you.

    We began our move by sending the vehicle first. Ben left to drive our South African purchased vehicle from our home in South Africa 5,500 kms through Africa to Burundi. The first day of the journey his traveling companion had to turn back because of visa issues. He went on to do the drive alone (here’s my nifty map of the drive) which scared the crap outta me. The trip was not exactly convenient. I was left alone with two kids and a mostly packed house on our ten year anniversary.

    Then, as Ben drove on, my heart was tested and it was almost more than I could bear. My sweet littlest little got sick, so sick. We were in the hospital, friends were watching my oldest (some of the best friends on earth), and I was just praying that my littlest would breathe.

    Our littlest made a full recovery, and Ben eventually made it back to South Africa. When he did he was feeling pressure that we should have moved to Burundi already because the coffee was rolling in. That made my heart break because I was not ready to leave my lovely South African life. Certianly not before our schedule said so. But then we were there, it was time to jump. Ready or not.

    And we did. We landed with a thud. Into a house with 20 construction workers crawling all over it, a film crew following us around, and a kid throwing rocks through windows. Ben began cupping coffee all day long every day to try and catch up on his job. The boys and I just tried to survive. Every day was a test of my resolve to stay… and we had only just landed.

    Eventually the construction stopped. Not because they were finished, but because they ran out of money. I didn’t care. I was happy just to have them out. We began to make friends. I knew how to drive through all of this and life gained a rhythm. And we found ourselves preparing for a big day. Our biggest little’s first day in a French speaking school. When that day came, soon after so did another. A very unplanned for day. Ben had a potentially life threatening staph infection. We were faced with questions. Should he be airlifted to Kenya or South Africa? Should we risk the care in Burundi and stay? We decided to stay.

    He recovered, but I was tired. Tired of living at a flat out crazy man’s pace. We decided to make some changes. Changes that would ensure we could live life better. We found a nanny, we set some work boundaries, we made time for things that mattered. Then I lost something. Someone, really, who had journeyed with our family for what felt like a century, even though it was just a decade.

    Somewhere in there I got my first medium format film camera. I began to shoot. It was more than just a camera for me. I fell in love with the beauty of slowing down. Of taking time for things that need time. Of appreciating one thing at a time. The list goes on. My kids began to thrive. They made friends. Great friends. We began to see that this decision of ours, to be in this crazy place, might just be a blessing to all of us after all.

    And now it’s Christmas and I am so thankful to be in the land of warm and consistent showers… no matter what the temperature is outside. Merry Christmas to you and yours.

    Love,

    me

  • Long Miles Coffee Project: The TV show

    Long Miles Coffee Project from Cooked in Africa on Vimeo.

    Yeah, I know. I feel like we have some explaining to do. For the last six months, on and off, a film crew has been following us around documenting our journey into Burundi. The show is mostly about our lives, which scares me silly, and coffee. I hate being in front of the camera. Hate. Really, I am using that word. So, this has been a learning experience for me. I am not saying that I love it now, but I sure do love the people behind the scenes. They have come along for the ride and are now part of our family… even though they still bug the crap out of me with their cameras. I didn’t want to tell you. It’s true. I thought you might think we’re vain, or silly or something… anyway, I’m sharing it now. That’s the first step for us in-front-of-camera-haters.

    These guys clearly don’t have my in-front-of-camera phobia. Here’s Sunel, we call her Auntie Sunel around here, getting a good shot. Oh, and by the way, they shoot everything on the Canon 7D, which just happens to be the camera I shoot with too. Confession: before I met these guys I had used the video function on my camera one time.

    Here’s Coffee Guy doing his thing again… talkin’ about coffee some more.

    All while holding a baby and runnin’ around in the hills.

     

    Smelling the beans, always a good thing. I am aware that my children seldom have all their clothes on. I don’t really plan on changing that. Keeping us all in clothes is too much effort… at least I manage to get myself dressed!

    Here’s Uncle Wesley, our creative director, slogging the gear through the hills with Myles.

    World class sound man, right here.

    Hangin’ with the crew, workin’ on some great ideas.

    Wesley imparting age old Mac wisdom to my five year old…

    aaaand to my 1 year old. Neo loves Auntie Sunel… and her Macbook.

    So that’s what we’re up to folks. What do you think about all that? We’d love to know…

    Luv,

     Kristy

  • Sometimes, but not always…

    Sometimes, but not always, I think this might be too hard for me.

    There is a frustration growing in my belly so intense I think I might explode with it.

    It radiates, strengthens with each breath, and flutters around my insides like a caught bird.

    Sometimes, but not always, this world makes me want to scream.

    Loud.

    So I did, and nothing happened

    except a ripple of sourness from it touched every being in its path.

    This world is full of suffering

    corrupt, void of rules, hard, overwhelming, unjust and completely NOT MINE…

    and yet totally mine, intensely beautiful and intensely ugly all at once.

    One of my all time favorite women in the world

    (and second mother to my kids)

    left to return to South Africa today.

    I tried to keep busy after she left.

    I opened my computer to prepare the blog post of a life time.

    Beautiful images from the coffee hills.

    The first time I had been in the hills without a baby on my hip, thanks to her.

    I was met with technical difficulty after technical difficulty.

    It’s just not possible to share them right now.

    This might seem little, and it is, but it rides on the back of something huge.

    Feelings of frustration and aloneness.

    Don’t get me wrong,

    I am getting to know some beautiful souls here in Bujumbura.

    There are people here who have a strength I may never know.

    People with a vast faith in humanity and an amazing capacity for good.

    They are incredible specimens of humanness…

    and yet today,

    as Thobe left, I wanted to run after the car shouting

    “Take me with you!

    Take me home!”

    but there I stood, strangely and insanely rooted to this journey.

    Love,

    Kristy

  • Happy Weekend! Hope you make time to appreciate all the little things that make life great… like underwear.

    Love,

    Kristy

     

  • In The Burundi Coffee Hills

    Let me begin by saying…

    These are the people,
    this is the moment,
    here.we.are.

    I have been feeling as if I owe you, big time. I feel like I owe you lots of images like this one. Images that allow you to see for yourself what the families who grow coffee in Burundi look like.

    Here’s your coffee, freshly picked and still in the cherry. This coffee is honey processed, which means it is picked, left unwashed to preserve every bit of flavor, and then sun dried on these tables.

    Here specialty coffee is being hand sorted. Which means it is being picked through to remove any defects. This coffee will be hand sorted five times. When picked, before being washed, after being fermented, after drying, and after dry milling (which removes the parchment).

    This scale is where a farmer’s lot is determined. Their ripe red cherries are weighed and a price is determined. The price for red cherries? About $.50 a kilo, or $.50 for 2.2 pounds. How can we get the farmers more money? If Ben finds during cupping that the quality of a certian lot is superior enough to be sold as speciality coffee, the farmer who grew it will get a bonus at the end of the season of double or triple per kilo and the coffee will be sold to the likes of Stumptown and Bean There.

    What if Ben wasn’t cupping to find these lots? More and more of the coffee would be sold as commodity lots to big coffee exporters who would turn around and sell it to the likes of Folgers and Maxwell House. They would then mix it with other commodity coffees and the people who drink it would never even know that they were drinking a Burundi coffee, or that the farmer only got $.50 a kilo.

    Of course, the kids are the heart breaking part. Without education, electricity, running water and proper nutrition what hope of a better life than their parent’s can they have?

    If their parents get more for their crop that is a good start to a better life, if the extra funds are managed correctly. But, as we all know, money does not solve everything.

    All that said, I have to tell you… the coffee hills are not a hopeless place. In fact, they are just the opposite. They seem filled with hope. The hope of the harvest and the strength that community living can bring.

    Being in the hills is an amazing experience. As an mzungu (white person) it is not easy to blend and we do become the village entertainment, but I suppose it’s the least we can do!

    I love this moment, this little kiddo in the oversized t-shirt was so scared of the white people and of our cameras, but once our good friend Wesley from Cooked In Africa Films showed him his picture he was all smiles. I do love film, but God bless digital!

    The hills reminded my why we made this leap and what it is all for…

    These are the people,
    this is the moment,
    here.we.are.

    That’s all for now,
    Kristy

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