Old, new and equitable ways of producing coffee


Family farm owners, cooperatives and local artisans modernize coffee consumption while staying true to their roots.

Petro Gonzalez has never worn shoes all the years he has worked in the fields. This practice was common for the older generations of farm laborers who could not afford shoes. Now, he is just used to it. “I have been working in the fields since the day I could walk,” Gonzalez said. | Photo by Savannah Heeren

By Ella Roberts

Petro Néllo Gonzalez, 83, gripped an orange-handled machete in one hand and held an empty sack draped over his opposite shoulder. He began the same barefoot trek up the base of the Agua Volcano he has been repeating since he was 8. Here, in the town of San Miguel Escobar, 15 minutes outside of Antigua, some of the most fertile farmland nurtures flourishing coffee trees in volcanic ash soil.

This work is Gonzalez’s livelihood, he says to two of his grandchildren during a break in the shade.

After receiving a second-grade level of education, Gonzalez’s parents put him to work in the fields where he tended avocados, corn, beans and coffee fruit, which looks like a cherry but holds the gift of the coffee bean inside. Now, both national and international markets want Guatemalan coffee, which has changed the diversity of crops in the fields but not the work ethic Gonzalez instills in his children and grandchildren as he hopes to keep the land in the family for generations, even after his death.

“When you get older, you need to guide them to their future the same way my mom and dad taught me about agriculture,” Gonzalez said.

Gonzalez embodies where the journey of the coffee bean begins, a process that has been crucial to Guatemala’s economy for hundreds of years. Today, an estimated 125,000 coffee producers drive Guatemala’s coffee industry and coffee remains one of Guatemala’s principal export products, accounting for 40% of all agricultural export revenue. However, a local coffee cooperative estimates that a sliver of this revenue, as small as 10%, goes to coffee-producing countries. While coffee is a source of enjoyment, a daily ritual and a community for billions of drinkers around the world, it is too often a source of economic precarity, experts say, for those who cultivate it.

Depending on the variety, it will take approximately three to four years for newly planted coffee trees to bear fruit. The fruit, called the coffee cherry, turns a bright, deep red when it is ripe and ready to be harvested. The red coating of the cherry is known for its sweet flavor. The cascara, which means “husk,” “peel” or “skin” in Spanish, is the dried skins of coffee cherries. These pulped skins are collected after the seeds or the coffee beans have been removed from the cherries. | Photo by Savannah Heeren

Without a plentiful harvest, Gonazalez’s family would not be able to meet their basic needs. Gonzalez puts the success of his harvest in God’s hands.

“When it starts raining we thank God, because there will be provision,” he said. “God sent to us the blessing of rain, because without rain, plants wouldn’t grow and we wouldn’t have something to harvest.”

The history of coffee production in the region dates back to the mid-19th century, but it had been the domain for mostly fincas, or small farms. Only about 25 years ago did small-holder farmers with experience working at those fincas start planting their own coffee trees. Because nobody had enough knowledge to process the beans themselves, farmers would sell their fruit on the street at the mercy of prices set by big producers. Today, farmers are able to partner with co-operatives as a way to improve the quality of coffee and life of small producers, such as Gabriel Minas.

From December to April, the harvesting months of coffee fruit, Minas and other farmers pick only the reddest fruit from the trees for nearly 12 hours a day, filling five to seven wicker baskets, or 150 pounds worth. From there, the beans are prepared for their annual exportation through a process of depulping, washing and fermenting the seeds. Each harvester then stores sacks of the processed coffee in individual storage rooms found inside their homes. In April, the coffee will be ready to export, either roasted or raw, depending on the buyer.

In 2005, with the partnership of seven coffee producers and a non-profit organization, came both the Café Artesanal San Miguel co-op and De la Gente. Café Artesanal San Miguel allows small farmers such as Minas to start processing their own coffee rather than going through the conventional avenues, adding up to 30% more value to the product and allowing farmers to pay pickers, on average, 75 quetzales (about $10) for a day of work, 34% more than most large fincas. Today, 28 members, including three women, work with Café Artesanal San Miguel, which gets fair trade prices from buyers, including many in Wisconsin.

Minas’ family, which lives in San Miguel Escobar, owns one out of 10 smaller pieces of land called a cuerda. 10 cuerdas make up one-third of an acre and in each cuerda lie about 300 coffee plants. For 36 years his family has harvested the same land. Once a field full of vegetables, his plants now bear the fruit of coffee.

De La Gente is a fair trade company, which means it follows a system of certification. For farmers and workers, fair trade means workers’ rights, safer working conditions and fairer pay, Minas said. Because of this, producers like Minas are able to give their money directly to their employees, even if it costs buyers in America or Europe a few more dollars or euros per pound. That markup, and its benefits, wouldn’t be possible without the co-op.

“If we sell directly to a big farm, the price is very low,” Minas said. “We have the opportunity to have better plantations which means we are going to produce more coffee, have more income.”

Minas said working with fair trade allows him to provide more income for his workers so that they can afford their children’s continued education, improve the size and quality of their houses and invest in better healthcare for their families.

Meanwhile, in the tourist town of Antigua, Artista de Café, owned by Guatemalans María Andreé, 28, and Guillermo Durán, 32, prepare to sell the coffee in the form of specialty drinks. When choosing a coffee farm to partner with, Andreé considered the benefits of a fair trade system.

Five years ago on the streets of Momostenango, Guillermo and Andreé came across Don Feliciano, an artisan who weaves wool rugs on a wooden loom. After falling in love with his intricate and colorful designs, Andreé helped Feliciano grow his business by purchasing his work and selling the rugs at Artista de Café as well as creating an Instagram account for his business. “People don’t see those kinds of things because they don’t know the story. It has nothing to do with coffee. It’s about being human,” Andreé said. | Photo by Savannah Heeren

“We make sure there is a fair trade between the people who work there and how they treat the people inside and they’re paying correctly,” Andreé said. “It is so important.”

Andreé believes supporting local artisans, skilled craft workers while also modernizing coffee consumption with design and aesthetic supports the best of Guatemalan culture. Paired with Andreé’s specialty coffee drinks, bright white walls, pink roses and art designed by Durán, Artista de Café seeks to provide a space for artists to be creative.

Although the interior design is inspired by European styles, almost everything inside can be found in local stores or made by local hands: the furniture, coffee bar, rugs and even the bronze lettering on the back wall which was handmade by an artist they found walking on the street who doesn’t have a phone number. Durán said the aesthetic allows the two to stay close to their Guatemalan roots while also appealing to people from throughout the world.

“Our philosophy is to be modern Guatemalan people, not as our parents’ and grandparents’ style,” he said. “We are living in a new world and people from France, Africa and India are coming to Antigua for the coffee shops and other businesses.”

For Gonzalez, the international coffee machinery can mean a better life, if his family can get its fair share for walking up that volcano every day. But even if he gets more for his beans, he will still walk barefoot. It’s his way.

(Additional reporting by Estefania Rosal.)

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