Tag: Burundi

  • 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.

     

  • A Glimpse Inside The Dry Mill

    Let me be honest, and this is a little embarassing as the wife of a coffee aficionado, I just googled “what’s a dry mill.” Even thought I’ve been to one, I’m still not so sure what all the loud machines and grunt work are about.

    The way I see it, the dry mill is the last bit of processing the beans get before they are sent off to their final desitination.

    A few weeks ago the whole family took of to the hills and played around while Coffee Guy did the serious work of overseeing that specific coffee lots were milled correctly. While he was being the quality control guru, we made some new friends… I’ll introduce them to you tomorrow.

     

  • 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

     

  • When you pray…

    We have 15 pieces of luggage being held captive against it’s will, and ours, in the Burundian customs office. It arrived two weeks ago… 15 bins full of kids toys, pillows, saucepans and very regrettably most of my underwear (yeah, I know). Every week that it is in “storage” at the Burundi airport we have to pay roughly $200 US dollars. For storage we don’t want, because we want the stuff in our home!

    Just imagine if we had brought our great dane… she’d probably still be in storage for being “too heavy.” So, here’s the deal. Ben has spent about a bah-zillion intense and frustrating hours at the airport. Negotiating this. Negotiating that. Filling out that form. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Being told

    “No, it’s too heavy.”

    “Too heavy for what?” we say.

    “Just too heavy” they say.

    You get the picture.

    Tonight we were reminded of brave souls who have fought for so much more than some silly air freight. Our friends Brandon and Kristin, Richie and Natalie, Jeremy and Ash who have known what it is like to hope in the midst of the deepest anguish any parent can know. Their experiences and pain give us perspective. Stuff is just stuff. We will be ok, even without our underwear… but we sure would like it anyway.

    Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses allcomprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

    Praying for peace that makes no sense at all, and praying the same for our friends. Please join us if you would like, and if you throw in a prayer for my underwear while you are at it, I sure won’t stop you.

    Love,

    Kristy


  • Are You Drinking Ethically Sourced Coffee?

    This morning I am sipping a double espresso from Gatare, a washing station in the Kayanza district of Burundi that is producing amazing coffee. All this coffee sipping got me thinking about you. I starting thinking… What are YOU drinking?

    This as a sort of follow up to my What’s in Your Cup? thoughts. I know there is an extraordinarily large amount of people who care, really truly care, about buying ethically sourced coffee. They might care because they have social justice on their minds, or they have a heart for seeing impoverished people succeed, or they are on a year long quest to love the earth. Whatever the reason, we are here to give those who care a two thumbs up for their sensitive conscience.

    I like purchasing ethically sourced coffee.  For me, it’s a way of living out one of our family’s core values: The dignity and value of every person. So getting down to it, what should you buy?  Whats the difference between Fair Trade and Direct Trade? And who really cares?

    That’s too much for one coffee guy to dive into all at once.  So, I’ll give my two cents on “what coffee should you buy?”  I mean, I love you Barbara Kingsolover.  I’ll eat local for a life time, but… I won’t stop buying amazing coffee sourced from the other side of the planet.  I can’t justify cutting off a farmer’s only means of income because he lives in Costa Rica or Papua New Guinea or BURUNDI… especially if his coffee makes me weak in the knees.

    So, you are going to your local coffee shop to buy your coffee, but what should you buy? Here’s my list, in order of significance, of what I look for when buying roasted beans.

    1.  Freshly and expertly roasted. Roasting should have taken place no later than two weeks prior to the purchase date and the roasting date should be evident on the bag. Also, try before you buy. Often baristas will be more than happy to share a sample of their brew with you before you delve into a $15 purchase.

    2.  A unique coffee that matches the method of preparation you intend it for. Each coffee has a roast that will bring out it’s best characteristics depending on it’s use, ie: Chemex, espresso, French-press, etc.

    3. “Third hill from the left.”  The coffee you drink should be traceable. Get as close to the farmer as possible, see if you can get a detailed description of where the farmers are and what their community is like. This matters, plain and simply because people matter.

    4.  Ethically sourced and purchased coffee. Coffee that provides a livable and sustainable wage to each stakeholder along the coffee trail. The farmers. The workers at the washing station. The workers at the dry mill. The truck drivers. The exporters. The importers. The roasters. The coffee shop owners. The baristas. Without each one of these people along the coffee trail, good coffee does not exist.

    5.  Growers and buyers at origin who maintain a social and environmental conscience. People… like us.

    6.  Transparency in financial transactions stemming from your cup back to the tree. Ask your coffee shop how each dollar you spend on your coffee is divided amongst the coffee stakeholders listed in #4. They should tell you, really.

    I realize we can’t all do all of these things at once, but it’s about the effort. The effort to make a contribution towards building whole and healthy communities. You may think this contribution is a silent one, but it’s not. YOU dictate what businesses like your local coffee shop buy. I’ll bet if your coffee shop is not doing these things and you tell them that you want to drink this kind of coffee, you will plant a seed of change. Try it, and see what happens.

    If your local coffee shop is doing these things, give them a shout out in the comments section so other people can go thank them for a job well done.

    Coffee Guy

     

     

  • Dear Family,

    Hope is the belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life.[1] It is the “feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best” or the act of “look[ing] forward to with desire and reasonable confidence” or “feel[ing] that something desired may happen”. [2] Other definitions are “to cherish a desire with anticipation”; “to desire with expectation of obtainment”; or “to expect with confidence”.[3]


     

    I believe in us. I believe beyond all hopelessness, and even though this transition is hard I “expect with confidence” that God is with us during every step.

     

     

    My coffee guy. Even though your brand new (to you) roaster is broken, even though you have spent over 6 hours in the last two days at Burundi Home Affairs wading through bribe after bribe in order for us to get a visa that will only allow us to stay here for another 28 days, even though you are bearing a burden heavier than I’ve ever seen you bear… I have hope. I believe in a God that can carry us if we let Him. I believe in you. You are the only man on the planet who could do this with such grace. Your capacity to keep smiling is insanely irritating, and I love you for it.

     

     

    My big little. You threw a rock through the window tonight. I know you are struggling. It makes your mommy wet her keyboard to think of it. To watch you battle with life overwhelms me. I want to protect you, to shelter you from some of the things that are a part of adjusting to this new life, but I can’t. I will be here, right by your side, protecting you from evil, but letting you experience this life with your.whole.being. You are a fighter and I see you testing your strength everyday. I wrote this for you the other day while you were playing with some kids:

    6 speak French

    1 English, and that one with a confidence lost

    1 parent watches

    wishing it could be different

    wishing his tongue could fly over the words

    just fly

    It’s true, all of it, except one thing. I don’t wish it to be so, I already SEE it. I see you talking in French faster than your mom and dad ever will. I see you playing with friends, shouting to them in French, not letting me in on what you are saying. I see it all. I see an amazing man, facing the world with confidence, love, and with abilities far beyond those who surround you. Abilities that living here have given you. Kids who grow up outside their parent’s home culture are just plain awesome. You are just plain awesome. I see it all, I believe it all.

    My littlest little. Oh, my baby, you have my heart. You make us all laugh every day and we NEED that. You tire us out too, with all your getting.into.everything.ness But then I remember as I discover the entire contents of the medical supply cupboard all over the floor… you are healthy, ingenious and beautiful. As you climb into the sideboard with all the plates, and break one while you are at it… you are healthy, ingenious and beautiful. When you sit on top of the dining room table proud as a peacock for climbing there… you are healthy, ingenious and beautiful. You are already soaring in Burundi, your family is all you ever needed. Thank you for reminding me of that truth.

    Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1

     

  • It ain’t pretty…

    I hate this construction project, and I just wanted you to know. I am trying to learn French, a new city, how to drive like an insane person, and where to buy things while parenting two non-stop-action-packed boys… and then I come home to the banging pounding mess that is our house. Scratch that, we don’t come home, we often ARE home. Trying to work, parent, be, love inside a complete mess. Our house, where I am constantly dodging nails in tiny feet and where I am never ever hardly ever ALONE. You know that classic line, “Someone’s always watching”? Well, it’s totally true.

    The thing is, if I could appreciate the aesthetic of the project, that would be one thing. I would be able to hold on to the thought of the finished product, but I do not. I don’t like it, at all. Each day something uglier appears. A toilet set skew (REALLY skew) into the cement, brand new (ugly) light fixtures with paint all over them, a crooked window, a rain gutter that runs in 20 directions along the ground, a newly installed sink that is about really to fall off the wall and almost does every time you touch it, cement detailing that is indescribably ugly, varnished bricks with dripping white paint in between them… at this point I just want them out. Out. Out. Instead of SITTING AROUND all day long doing two hours of work in ten.

    I realize I am now officially the downer of the blogging world.

    The end.

    Kristy

  • What’s in your cup?

    Whats in your cup?

    My parents blast through freshly ground coffee in their Bunn Automatic.  12 cups in just over a minute.  While some snobbier coffee specialists may scoff at such heresy, I find myself every second year or so happily slurping down my second cup before registering that I’m fully awake and in the strange land of Wisconsin.

    That said, I can’t rightly remember the last “drip” coffee I’ve had.  I’m more your slow brewed Chemex, or double macchiato kinda guy.  Forever  the zealous apostle of the French Press for all home coffee drinkers.  Ideally speaking, we’d all have a home ceramic burr grinder and a La Marzocco or Clover.  The reality, however, is the before mentioned freshly ground espresso or pour-over devices are, well, maybe not in the budget or interest of most.  So most people will probably stick to the good ol’ Bunn or God forgive you if you do, instant coffee.

    Regardless of method, I wonder how many people know what they are drinking?  Coffee.  Yes, uh huh.  Any idea of the washing station? From what country?  What continent even?

    Now I know we aren’t all coffee zealots.  But the worth of the cup is in the people.

    A stretch you say?

    I think not.  The reason we’re in Burundi is a complex yet simple one.  We love coffee, individuals, God, family, and potential (not always in that order… in fact in no particular order, or if that offends, you could assume your favorite was written first) I think they are all combined, linked and fully integrated.  That is why we are here.  That is why it matters that you know what is in your cup.

    Perhaps if you knew that you were drinking a cup of fully washed AA Burundi Musema washing station coffee and that it  supplied 800 families with their only means of income.  Or that by drinking that coffee you not only made their life livable, but sustainable.  Don’t stop there.  Because of they premium they received for selling their coffee as specialty they are now interacting and learning from  key individuals that are influencing their whole way of thinking, crop growing, child raising and exposure to the Gospel… yeah that’s right, to Jesus. Because that’s important to us. Would that make the cup taste better?  Motivate you to drink more?  Or perhaps inspire you to dream of the important things in your life and dare you to face your fears and journey toward them?

    It took us a while.  We’re still working on them.  OK, we’ll probably never really get there.  Wherever “there” is.

    Integrating these passions.  Loving each.  Frustrated by them all.  Attempting to live them authentically in Burundi.

    Thats why we’re here and why I care whats in your cup.

    Coffee Guy

     

     

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