littlest little
dear baby, you have my heart
so stop.
stop all this growing.
please.
don’t become a real boy.
swirling whirling life.
i can’t hang on
the clock keeps…
marching.
and here we live
chasing a dream
we chase the dream
for you.
for two boys in africa
our souls would burst
if we never showed you,
if we never lived it.
love,
mom
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
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.
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.
… I totally have this! I’m a rock-star! I can drive, sort of communicate, drop my kid off at a French speaking school every day like it’s no big deal, make friends… life is a breeze! Just at that moment, I realized I don’t have this. At all. After a busy week shuttling Ben and hosting visitors from all over the world for Burundi’s most crucial coffee moment this year, the Burundi Prestige Cup (a precursor to the Cup Of Excellence), and taking Myles to his first week of school… Ben landed up in the hospital. In Burundi. The place every foreigner hopes they never ever end up. A Staph infection. A big one. A cut on Ben’s leg had gotten infected, began poisoning his blood, and soon every tiny little scratch on his body was a festering open wound. Not exactly his prettiest moment, or mine.
Where we grew up in America, there is a tendency to glorify people who never take time for themselves, those who are truly “selfless.” Why do we do this? The people we should look up to are those who work hard, but have set good boundaries for their lives. There is no glory in not taking time to clean a scratch and ending up in the hospital for a week, possibly needing to be airlifted out to Joburg or Nairobi. No glory at all, and Ben will tell you that.
In the moment that Ben said “hospital” I knew something had to change. Fear had me by the neck right then. “We need to slow down,” I thought. To take time for the little things. Breathe in the precious gift of air. Let it soak into our souls. Watch that sunset, go to that park, watch the hippos in the surf like we did last night. Be still. Take the time. Work hard, do work that matters, use our time wisely… but build in time for rest and care. That is our lesson, not that every staph infection has to have one. We have hit the ground running so hard that I feel as if I have tumbled over my feet and landed flat on my face. There is nothing glorious about that, but we are getting up… carefully.
Happy Weekend! Hope you make time to appreciate all the little things that make life great… like underwear.
Love,
Kristy
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
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
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