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