… usually begins quite early. Wake up at 6am, with the sun. While breakfast simmering on the stove, everyone goes about his/her first occupations of the day. Some will cut long grass to feed the cow and milk it at the same time. Others will fill water tanks to clean the coffee harvested the previous days. Others will feed the pigs, chickens, turkey, rabbits or guinea pigs. The last ones will quickly shower before going to school.
I landed in a finca (farm). In the main house are living the father, the mother, the son, one of the seven daughters and three grandchildren (whose parents live in Cali). Three other girls are living with husband and children in other houses nearby. And all these people are working more or less together on family plantations.
At breakfast, usually a caldo (soup with pieces of plantain, potato, yuca and of arracacha – both tubers) accompanies a plate of rice and beans and patacones (unripe plantains fried and then crushed). A good way to start a long laborious day, isn't it? And it would be unthinkable not to have coffee to go with that. At work now!
A good cafetero can collect more than 100 kilos (220 pounds) of coffee every 7-hour working day. An apprentice like me... a little less! But I think at least the equivalent of my modest weight in coffee beans. It requires both experience and attention to identify red grains (colour-blind, abstain) in particular leafy shrub of this tropical tree, to snatch quickly while leaving small brothers, and move to next branch without losing balance on these steep slopes. And even if the coco is not filling as fast as we want, we have the pleasure of seeing the red gradually disappear from the 2-meter high tree. And of course, given the topography and uneven ripening coffee beans, it is impossible to entrust the job to a machine.
At 4pm on the dot, it's time to definitely drop the coco until the next day. Then comes the moment when we pour bags of 50 kg in a giant funnel. A tonne of grain will soon pass mill. Purpose of the operation: separate two small white sticky beans from their red bug. The small mill is brave, it will be difficult to swallow everything before nightfall at 6pm whatever the season: we are almost at the equator. The next morning, we plunge the beans in a water tank. After several successive baths and a permanent mixing, they will lose their viscous appearance. During the operation, anything that floats will happily join the red bugs on the compost heap.
In a final attempt to eliminate small junk floating, it will all sieve. Then comes the time to move the coffee beans (which then have no taste, I tested for you!) to the secadero, a greenhouse that will help dry the beans into five or six days. Then the beans will join the cooperative in 50 kg bags. We will set aside for the personal use of the farm. These little beans are snow bound to spend fifteen to thirty minutes in a large pot on the fire. Last operation before tasting: the mill. Out of it results the powder deliciously fragrant inseparable from our sleepy mornings. In Colombia, once in the cup, the coffee is called tinto.
But as we do not need to be there for all these operations regarding café, the other will share the care of the different farm animals: the cow which gave birth to a little bull and that we teats manually, hens and their chicks, turkey, pigs – one just had a litter of piglets thirteen (nine survived), rabbits with birth again, guinea pigs, dogs, cats and little parrots.
Finally, on top of these two weeks, an earthquake. Sunday afternoon, at the hour of the Mass in the commercial centre of Bogotá (see previous article), I was quietly installed in the sofa where I finished watching a documentary on the panda in China with the two youngest boys of the family. I was reading El Principito (The Little Prince in Spanish) when the couch started to shake. To be more precise, it was the floor and the wall at the origin of this move. Without realising what was going on, and as no one at home seems to panic, the idea of an earthquake came to my mind bur stupidly I prefer the explanation that someone was walking upstairs, thus making the walls move. An hour passes (lunch included) before one of the girls who lives in Cali successful call to care for our state. It is then that we all realised what we all felt individually without admitting it. We switched on the television: an earthquake of 7.1 on the Richter scale and an epicentre in the valley on the other side of the mountain (the first two hours the media even announced the epicentre in San Agustín!). Despite the strength of seismic motion, miraculously little damage are seen in the region. And we returned to work as if nothing had happened.
To conclude, the day (and this long article!) ends at 9pm, after watching the news and a few episodes of Dragon Ball which the family is particularly fan of. Thus ends a fortnight in a coffee plantation. I have had the opportunity to still get a day off to visit a bit around with Kati (met in Costa Rica, we traveled together in Panama). I left San Agustín and went North, towards the region of Manizales where I had another WWOOF experience for a week.
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