| A Coffee Lover's Journey to Bliss |
By Wibke Langhorst
I had the best latte of my life last week: freshly brewed organic coffee topped with a tall hat of foam produced by warm milk that came straight from the cow. Make that organic milk from an organic cow, because everything that is produced and consumed up here in the “Corral del Diablo”, a coffee finca high up in the sierra above Zihuatanejo, is organic.
Two weeks ago when Juanita Sanchez called to invite me for a weekend visit to her coffee plantation I enthusiastically accepted the invitation before she had even finished her sentence. I had heard romantic tales about these hidden plantations in the sierra before and had fantasized about going there for years.
Juanita knows every rock and tree on the way to her finca, let alone all of her most warm-hearted and welcoming neighbors, so finally last week we piled into her well-weathered Nissan pickup truck, together with two of her sons, my fearless friend Erica and bags and boxes of provisions, and set off into the sierra.
The road turned rocky immediately when we left Highway 200, and after El Cedral, the last outpost of civilization out here, it became a rock-strewn track that led through forests and cow pastures. Four hours (and a few concussions) later we arrived at the gates of Juanita’s finca, just as the sun was setting and a dreamy veil of fog was wavering over the hills and valleys below us, hiding – as we were to find out the next day - the fantastic view of the Pacific shoreline far below us.
The sweet smell of coffee fruit greeted us first, followed by a bunch of curious barefoot and dust-covered children, three tail-wagging dogs, a few of the finca’s workers, and finally Juanita’s husband Dario. As dusk was setting and the light was fading, Dario quickly showed us around and took us to the source of the delicious smell that was lingering in the air. Two large cement courts were covered with green coffee beans spread out to dry in neat rows. By the time we got back to the simple adobe house, it was dark and preparations for supper were in full swing by the light of the burning embers in the clay stove and some oil-filled mayonnaise jars. A single 10 Watt light bulb powered by a car battery was dangling over the table on the patio and was giving just enough light for us to identify what was on our plates and make out the silhouettes of the other people around us. Fresh cheese that had been made only minutes before rolled up in steaming handmade tortillas and served with a fire-roasted tomato salsa turned into a feast for the senses, and sipping Juanita’s organic coffee we sat talking in the semi-darkness until midnight.
“We woke up and smelled the coffee. Literally.” The day on the finca starts early, especially during the harvest season, so that when the cocks made their wakeup calls and the first rays of light were filtering into the house we rubbed the sleep out of our eyes and lined up for our first cup of java. By 8 o’clock we were watching in fascination how sack after sack of shining red coffee berries spilled into a machine and were spat out as clean green coffee beans on one side and red pulp and peel – future organic fertilizer for the plantation – on the other. Dario patiently explained all the steps involved in turning the beautiful red fruit of the coffee plant into the precious hot liquid in our cups. In the process we learned about the serious problems the local coffee producers are facing: the low prices the raw coffee beans are fetching on the world markets; the ignorance of the local and state authorities, many of whom are completely unaware of the existence of these plantations in their own municipio; the problems in the distribution of much-needed government subsidies, and the complete lack of access to financing for the great majority of these small producers. For many of the local coffee growers, harvesting their product has become a losing business. The cost of paying the migrant workers who pick each berry by hand in a time-consuming process many times is greater than the price the producers can achieve for the end product. Some growers have become desperate and decided not to harvest at all.
Dario and Juanita form part of a recently established association of organic coffee producers called “Café Zihuatlán”. And recently Juanita and Dario’s coffee was awarded the bronze medal in an international competition in which more than 500 coffee brands were participating. They hope to be able to commercialize their excellent organic product under their own brand name soon and thus avoid having to sell to price-dumping intermediaries. While both price and demand for organic coffee have risen sharply on the world markets over the past few years, increased worldwide competition has driven prices down for conventional coffee. In her small store called “Café Zihuatanejo” in the centro of Zihuatanejo, Juanita has been roasting and selling the certified organic coffee from her own and her husband’s production for a number of years now. Soon, she hopes, the “Café Zihuatlán” association will be able to do the same.
“The coffee berry is an aphrodisiac,” Juanita said. Leading us on a long walk through the paradisiacal landscape of the plantation, she did not have to try hard to convince us of the importance of the survival of these local coffee producers. All coffee that is grown in the Colonia Leyva Mancilla is of the Arabica variety. Arabica coffee is of higher quality than the Robusta variety that is used for most conventional coffee brands. It is less acidic and more aromatic but the plant is also much more sensitive to climate and soil conditions and less resistant to heat. Arabica coffee is always grown in high altitudes and in the protective shade of high trees. The plants themselves as well as the processing of the beans require a lot of water. As a result, the coffee producers of Leyva Mancilla are careful to protect their forests and their mountain streams. In face of the ever more evident drinking water crisis affecting Zihuatanejo and Ixtapa, we recognized the necessity of supporting the local coffee producers as a viable way to protect what is left of our woods.
In the early afternoon we rode on the back of Dario’s truck all the way to “El Banco” where his workers were picking the ripe berries from plants that were bent over by the weight of their fruit. The truck bumped over rocks and cut through the dense vegetation, making us duck and squat in order to avoid being whipped by low-hanging branches. On several occasions we closed our eyes as Dario inched the truck forward over precarious overhangs and along kidney-crunching cliffs. As luck would have it, the truck broke down at the very end of the track and we had to walk back on foot. The profound silence was only interrupted by the rustling of leaves and the cry of a bird that sounded like a yelping puppy. In certain parts, the air was saturated with the perfume of the white coffee flower we discovered on some of the plants. We picked some coffee berries and ate them while walking. They had a delicious sweet taste, and seemed to put a spring into our steps. “The coffee berry is an aphrodisiac,” Juanita said.
When we got to the finca we watched the sunset and then climbed up to one of the coffee drying platforms. We lay down on our backs and watched numerous satellites zoom through the star-filled night sky, talking about ways to stop “civilization” from invading this unspoiled part of the world just yet.
The next day we rode the truck even further up into the sierra to meet with some other members of the “Café Zihuatlán” association. All were proud to show us around their healthy plantations, explain their production of organic compost from the pulp and peel of the coffee berry, and invite us to some delicious coffee and food into their modest adobe houses.
Before we set out on our trip back to Zihuatanejo, we took a last few melancholy sips of pure cold mountain water directly from the hose leading to the house. As the truck rattled and bumped back towards the so-called “civilized” world with its plastic water bottles, we vowed to become organic coffee missionaries and, more than anything, to return soon.
For more information, or to get your own locally produced organic coffee, Café Zihuatanejo is in centro Zihua, Tel: 554-7277, 554-3890 cafe_zihuatanejo@hotmail.com
march 2002
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