Tag: coffee farms

  • 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

  • roadside shopping

    roadside shopping

    Shopping in Burundi can be a very stress-full experience. There is a way to minimize it though, just take the road to Bugarama on your way to the coffee hills and let the vegetables come to you. While it’s not an entirely relaxing experience to have twenty people shouting at your window with their produce (as a crowd gathers to see the “mzungus,” or white people), it sure can be fun! That’s our roadside Burundi bounty above. Not a bad haul, egh?

    This is what it looks like when the selling is going one. Coffee Guy loves to barter, so it takes us extra long to get on outta there. He has all the sellers in an uproar by the time we pull away, which brings an even bigger crowd of onlookers. On this trip home from the hills we came back with broccoli, bananas, artichokes, rhubarb, flowers… and we had roasted corn on the cob as a snack on the way. The prices in Bukaye are much lower than in the city of Bujumbura, but this is not shopping for the faint hearted. The sellers are intense and are sometimes practically inside the vehicle, shouting their best prices at us (in French).

    As always, our faithful friend Fabrice was along for the day. He was the guy who helped us get our airfreight out of the airport back here. Fabrice has become a part of the woodwork around here (becoming favorite Uncle Fabrice in the process) and now I’m not sure my boys (our their parents) could ever do without him.

    Roadside shopping (without the need to even exit the car) has quickly become my favorite way to shop in Burundi.

    Pretty great, egh?

    Love,

    Kristy

  • 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

  • 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.

     

  • 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

  • Riding Burundi Roads at My Peril

    With internet spotty at best up in the highlands of Burundi this post will undoubtably be short.  I just can’t help but share in what is taking place though.  By far the most productive trip yet to Burundi I’m in a celebratory mood.  Except that my sore back, hurting bum and broken ribs (long story about why you shouldn’t play rugby in Burundi with American Marines could be inserted here!) will let my celebrations be limited to a beverage of choice and early to bed.

    The Beauty of Burundi is that I can sit in a “hotel’s” restaurant high in the hills of Burundi and listen to a Jordin Sparks (ya, I didn’t know until I googled her either) song on repeat being beat into my head.  So if I type “just one step at a time….” it’s not my fault.

    The past four days have been filled with incredible scenes of vibrant rolling hills, lush coffee trees pregnant with ripe cherries and aromas ranging from fresh sweet coffee smells to burnt roasting goat.

    I want to tempt your senses to try and imagine fresh(ish) goat being roasted on an open fire with green bananas that taste like potatoes to accompany.  How about hundreds of pounds of freshly harvested coffee cherries piled up ready to be washed clean of their pulp.  Or my favorite aroma of sweaty stinking people piled on top of each other and me as we wind our way up the mountains in a mini bus.

    Where do you drink coffee?  Intelligentsia? Counter Culture?  Stumptown?  Dunn Brothers? Bean There? I’m visiting the very farmers that are producing their best coffee.  It’s a good day in Burundi.  It would be great if Kristy and my adventurer boys were here too.  Just four weeks until we are all here!

    I may never feel or smell the same again.  But my discovery of this black gold is seductive and the hands that are processing it are the poorest and knurliest I have ever laid eyes on.  The adventure has begun.

  • The Beginning

    Ben began his journey in to help the farmers of Burundi produce better coffee this week. He’s also on the hunt for the best beans Burundi has to offer, so that he can get them into the hands of coffee shops who want to buy directly from farmers.

    Ben’s trip to Burundi this week did not yield a house, but the beginnings of his work with the farmers was a great success.

    What do you think of those roads? Egh? Pretty intense!

    Long Miles Coffee Project from longmilescoffee on Vimeo.

    .

  • Packing for Burundi

    I can’t say this has been an exceptional week.  I was on the phone with Wesley from Cooked in Africa Films and he could pick it up over the phone.  “You don’t sound your positive self Ben.”  And I haven’t.  It’s not so much the sheer mountain of logistics and details to organize, though the little things like visa’s for the five country-11 day road trip to Burundi do add up.  It’s an all-round atmosphere thing.

    Tension in the house with so many big decisions on our shoulders, and no more time to procrastinate has put the pressure on.  Four year old Boy Adventurer picks up on this and cranks up the whining to level 7.5.  Then teething Boy Biter adds in with non-stop whimpering and crying as four teeth try to break through his poor little gums all at once.  Ending nearly a decade of life in Durban South Africa seems to be filled with frustration and a time-bomb of anxiety and pressure dangling just above our heads.

    With all this boiling over frustration the best thing for me to do is go to Burundi, and leave Camera Girl with our two little darling boys and all the packing (hoping this blog post go’s unread by Kristy).  Reality is that I need to set up our business in Burundi and open a bank account so that we can get a work visa to live in the country.  Good news is that the ex-prime minister of the country and I have been talking and met a couple of times and he has his best lawyer working on this for us.  Then I need to travel into the hills to make initial contact with all the washing stations, convincing them to send me daily samples of their parchment coffee and find a person who can help me start to collect these samples, label them and make sure the washing stations follow through on any agreements we make.  Oh, yes, and the only other non-Burundian doing this just got death threats against him (don’t tell grandma).  To add to the legal stuff there is the “find a house” issue.  I don’t say issue lightly.  Burundi is a country with no real-estate agents or websites with video walk through tours and emails inquiry buttons to find out more details.  It’s a “drive around at night looking for dark windows because those are the houses no-one is living in and might be rentable” sort of place.  I’m going to be doing a lot of night driving next week.

    On the lighter side…. I do get to fly with a suitcase full of the first things we can leave in Bujumbura next week.  And with that added pressure/joy, the packing for Burundi begins.

    Coffee Guy

     

scroll to top
error: