Tag: Burundi coffee

  • The Burundi Details.

    I LOVE being in the coffee hills. They are THE PEOPLE we moved here for. Being up there with them always reminds me of the reasons we gave up that other life, changed course, and set up camp in Burundi.

    Wedding photographers talk about “detail shots” a lot. What the flowers, the decor, and the dresses were like. I had a chuckle about this on Saturday (the wedding-ist-crazy day of the week) while we were in the coffee hills with some amazing guests from our organization, The Navigators. I realized that while I was photographing dirty feet and age old bikes, others were probably busy photographing pretty flowers and beautiful gowns. Mine is a whole different kind of detail. I love it though!

    This is the same community that I wrote about here… and let me tell you, they have captured my heart. I can’t wait to spend more time with them! Really, they are beyond amazing and I love that we are developing such an exciting relationship with them. More on that in my next post.

    The building project you see? That’s drying tables for the coffee, in progress.

    Love,

    me

  • From Mrs. Jetlag Crazy-Pants

    Last night I was jet lagged and sad. So sad, in fact, that this is what I wrote:

    Pieces of me are all over the world.

    Right now my life feels like a

    messed up,

    screwed up,

    piece of travel warped craziness.

    32 hours.

    5 Airports.

    A frozen tundra when we enter,

    a tropical heatwave when we exit.

    A DIFFERENT WORLD.

    How can I live so far

    from so many I love?

    When did I get used to

    NOT

    having them around?

    THEY

    are the

    ones

    who

    have been through the most…

    THE LEAVING.

    I’VE put an ACTUAL (insanely large) distance

    in miles

    in kilometers

    in oceans

    between my children

    and

    the people

    who

    love

    them

    MOST

    in this world

    (aside from us).

    We made a choice for a different life…

    but I miss them.

    There is no more audience for my kids.

    They change and grow without much external fanfare…

    aside from our claps.

    Which seem feeble

    when compared to grandparent claps.

    And sometimes,

    at 3am,

    when I have jet lag…

    I wonder if it was the right choice.

    Why do we put ourselves through it?

    Can I handle another night of tears?

    Tears from all of us.

    Tears for grandparents,

    cousins,

    uncles,

    and several awesome aunties in South Africa.

    Is it right?

    Is it wrong?

    Or is it just what it is.

    And then, after some sleep, I looked at the images above and I remembered. Life is not all about me. It’s about the things we believe in. The CHOICES we make to fulfill those beliefs. The ONE above that I have surrendered to, and the JOURNEY that we are on. A journey with a people we don’t yet understand. And you know what? Even though we don’t understand Burundians yet… I bet they will end up teaching us a whole lot more than we teach them.

    Holding onto hope,

    Kristy

    All images

    Hasselblad 501C

    Fuji 400/Portra 400

  • 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

  • Want $45,000?

    I sure do… to help this community. I’m not going to lie. There have been lots of days (usually the “I’m-not-writing-on-that-darn-blog” days) that I don’t understand or know my purpose here. I know who I am, but not always what I am doing here. I am a wife. A mother. A photographer. A creative. A wanna-be chef. A wanna-be gardener. A wanna-be runner….. we better stop now. My wanna-be list is as long as my arm. BUT it is ultimately Coffee Guy’s purpose that brought us here. Yes, I love coffee. No, it’s not my job to export containers of it or to help farmers… but I care about it anyways. Deeply.

    I need to go to the coffee hills. To bring the kids with. To connect with the reason why I left everything I did to come here. To see the women, to know we are helping, to breathe the air they breathe, to see the communities they live in. To remember WHY I gave up my house and my dog and my friends…. for a new purpose. Those are THE BEST DAYS of this journey. I love our mid-week jaunts to the hills. It’s a time for us to pull the kid out of school, drive through the banana trees and connect. Connect. Connect. With our purpose.

    But enough about me… really. Seriously. There are people right outside my door with no clothes on and I’m whining about my purpose. Uff duh… so far to go girl, so far to go.

    Last week, with the film crew and the nanny all packed into the car…we headed to a new community. Farmers in a new part of Burundi. We drove along the lake and then up and up and up into new hills.

    Being filmed along the way.The following few pics shot out the car windows. Aka: totally incredible images. Just kidding. Try bumpy, blurry ones.Goat meat kabobs anyone? The goat is hanging right there so you can pick your cut of meat. That yellow container probably has banana beer in it. Good combo, banana beer and goat. Not much left, better hurry on down!

     

    Move it cows, we’re comin’ through!

    Burundi is full of people. Wide open spaces? Not without people! Here, there and everywhere.
    In the car… the producer (ahem, Wesley), the cinematographer (see Sunel, I can even spell it!), the nanny (and yes, IT’S TOTALLY AWESOME TO HAVE A NANNY!), the two kids… and the parents.
    Driving alongside the lake and the DRC mountains.
    Arriving at this amazing community.

    The farmers waiting for us.

    They have built this washing station with their own money. Here in Burundi, that’s rare. most exist because of government grants or foreign aid or foreign investment. This one exists because of initiative. Pure and Simple. We were so impressed by this amazing community. They need a $45,000 USD loan to complete their washing station. Feel like investing? Email us! We can give you a breakdown of where every cent would go.

    If you are a coffee shop and invest, they would give you first option on all the coffee they produce and you can garantee we would help oversee the processes as much as possible for as long as we are here.

    They stopped school and brought the students to us so that we could tell them about the importance of education and coffee farming for their community.

    Ever wondered what it looks like to produce a TV show in the coffee hills. Well, it looks like this! Hi Wesley!
    So cute, no?Myles does some cool drawings while the community meets with us about their project.
    When we got there the whole community was waiting and they had decorated the washing station with beautiful hanging flower arrangements (above). They had me hook, line and sinker right there.
    Do they have you? If you or anyone you know would be interested in providing a small business loan to this community, email us! The kids also desperately need some new clothes. I re-tied one boys pants three times… just so that they would stay up high enough to cover his willie. So, if you want to donate childrens clothes… we can talk about finding a way to get them to those kids.
    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

  • I Drink a Lot of Coffee

    4:45 am.  Neo wakes up and starts laughing, talking loudly, singing,etc.

    5:00 am.  Neo’s noise has woken Myles.  Myles proceeds to get Neo out of his cot (crib for you Americans).

    5:05 am.  Coffee Guy stumbles into the lounge before two little boys can destroy anything more.

    5:06 am.  Espresso machine is turned on.

    I drink a lot of coffee.

    In Burundi I’m referred to as a “Buyer” by the people in the coffee industry.  A Buyer is a person who can change lives and give hope to farmers and economies.  They are also the guy who disappoints and confuses.  Buyers have a whole world of politics and drama attached to each word said or conversation NOT had.

    That’s a whole lot of pressure.  And let’s be real, I’m not the world’s answer to coffee farmers woes.  I came to Burundi to make a difference in the lives of farmers.  I envisioned whole scale change and holistic renewal of rural communities!  To help be a part of the change needed in this desperate land full of potential sucked dry by decades of war and unrest.  But then coffee world politics and pressure creep in.  The day to day mountain of mundane and time consuming work and phone calls.  Fears begin to paralyze me.  I wake me up at night dreaming of soldiers, or was that really gun shots that woke me?  I fear driving to pick up samples because of all the police pulling people over.  And the pressure I sense of the looming wet season that will render the coffee less desirable if it sits much longer in storage before being shipped.

    It’s not quite 6 am and I’m feeling overwhelmed.  Thats when I know I need a drink.

    A double espresso, perhaps a six cup Chemex, but usually a couple macchiatos.  I read my Bible, make the boys oatmeal, and have a second cup. Perspective and focus return.

    We are here to make a difference.  It won’t happen overnight, or in three months.  Our vision is still the same. I just need to breathe, be patient, and realize that something bad or frustrating will happen today (yes, it will).  But that frustration will not define us or our hope for this place.

    Then I get to cup.  Slurp coffee 40 cups at a time.  On a good table I’ll find a coffee that blows my mind.  On those occasions I run up  and get Kristy, “You have got to try this lot!”  She spoils me rotten with her interest.  Affirms my excellent selection.  Cocks an eyebrow at my descriptor of a “creamy smooth body, delicate acidity with raspberry jam and a lime zest finish.”  My over-cupped self is happy to find an ear to declair the truths of this amazing cup to.  I’m not the first to discover this washing station in Kayanza called Gatare. But I am the first to taste this micro-lot and confirm that the farmers there really have something special.  I gave it an 89.  A score that will inevitably put this coffee into one of the best coffee shops in the world. A coffee shop willing to pay a little extra for a great coffee, willing to put a little more into the farmer’s pockets this year.  I go back down to my lab.  I have another 40 cups ready to go.

    I drink a lot of coffee.

    It’s our start at trying to make a difference.

    Coffee Guy

     

  • but somehow…

    In silence I can finally see you.

    This aloneness soothes my weary self away.

    Even though it’s just.one.minute.

    I’m bent like a twig before you,

    the Creator of all time.

     

    My minds eye wanders to love.

    Your love for this place.

    I can see it as clear as day, you love this land.

    You are chasing it down…

    like my baby, arms wide, running after a new friend.

     

    This no electricity, barely any running water,

    dusty, pot hole infested, people killing for no reason land.

    You hover over it.

    Aching to snatch it up from misery.

    To hold it close.

     

    Here the sun shines like a light chasers dream.

    Like my dream.

    The mountains are purple with it,

    the lake reflects it back boldly.

    You love this land and at first…

     

    I thought I didn’t.

    I thought I couldn’t.

    I was sure I wouldn’t…

    but somehow,

    I already do.

  • The Bikes of Burundi

    The bicyclists of Burundi are amazing. They carry insanely disproportionate loads on the backs of their bikes. One day we saw an ENTIRE bedroom set on the back of a bike. A bed frame and two side tables. These “bike taxis” are everywhere used to transport everything. Often bikers get in accidents with cars, people, motorbikes and probably other things too.

    This (somewhat strange) video shows bikers on the road from Burundi’s coffee hills into the city where we live, Bujumbura. Cyclists take this route to and from the hills everyday transporting all sorts of things.

    Luv,
    Kristy

  • Burundi the beautiful

     

    Oh, Burundi.

    You are the fourth poorest nation in the world.

    Burundi.

    USAID says, “In general, Burundi is perceived as among the 25 most corrupt countries in the world.

    Petty corruption is widespread, with informal payments required to obtain most services, permits, or licenses.”

    And we FEEL that corruption every.single.day.

    Burundi.

    According to the International Monetary Fund approximately 80% of Burundians live in poverty and

    according to the World Food Programme, 57% of children under 5 years suffer from chronic malnutrition.

    Burundi

    Your coffee is so good! 93% of your export revenues come from selling coffee.

    Burundi

    According to a study done in 178 countries, your people have the lowest life satisfaction in the world.

    As a result of poverty you are almost entirely dependent on foreign aid.

    Burundi

    The life expectancy of your people is 58.78 years.

    Oh, Burundi…

    Only one in two of your children go to school, and approximately one in 15 adults has HIV/AIDS.

    Food, medicine, and electricity remain in short supply.

    Less than 2% of the population has electricity in its homes.

    Dear Burundi,

    Despite it all… there’s just something about you.

    Something very, very beautiful.

    With faith, honesty and love you will find your way back.

    Trust me, beautiful Burundi, you will.

    Do it for your children.

     

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