A Girl on a Coffee Farm

James Harper

Hello, thank you for pressing play.

Before we get into this episode, I want to give you a heads up that, you know, we're all feeling the effects of coronavirus.

Some of you might be having a very hard time and this episode is kind of heavy.

So if you're not ready for it, give it a miss.

But it's also a very special one because I made it specifically for a competition, which is why it's aimed at a general audience, not just coffee folks.

Okay, PSA over, here's the piece.

I'm in the Nicaraguan countryside with a family that makes a living working on a coffee farm.

This family lives under a tin roof.

Chickens are running all over the place and the house is surrounded by lush forest.

And right now I'm talking with Sofía.

Sofía is a pretty typical teenager.

She's wearing a hoodie, has a stud in both ears, a touch of mascara, and she's showing me her drawings.

Let me tell you, this kid has talent.

There's this unicorn under a rainbow.

A lizard on its back legs singing a song.

But when I ask her what she does during the week, she tells me that she stays at home.

She's not going to school.

Now, this might not sound a big deal, but I'm going to take you on a journey to show you why I think it is and why it undermines an industry worth over $30 billion.

A few weeks before I was speaking with Sofía, I was in a giant convention center in Boston.

This is a coffee trade show.

Thousands of people are shaking hands, slurping coffees.

But these aren't ordinary coffees.

These are specialty coffees.

They're two times, three times more expensive than supermarket coffee.

One reason is because they taste great.

I've been choosing specialty coffees over supermarket coffees for over 10 years now.

But the thing that really hooks me about specialty coffee is the story.

Many people at this convention center were telling me things like this guy.

It's hard to hear, but he's saying that his company buys from coffee farmers directly.

They try to avoid the middlemen.

They also help fund schools.

I love this idea that my coffee dollars can go to a faraway country like Nicaragua and help a kid like Sofía go to school.

The thing is, when I go to that faraway country and I meet Sofía, I start questioning everything these coffee companies are telling me.

And as I discover more about Sofía, I discover more about myself.

And I question, am I the reason Sofía's not going to school during the week?

I'm James Harper, and this is Filter Stories.

A few minutes ago, Sofía was telling me that she's not going to school during the week.

But when I spoke to Sofía a year ago, her situation was so different.

Sofía used to live on farm-provided accommodation.

Brick walls, a concrete floor, their washing was hanging out to dry on a stretch of barbed wire.

The fact this farm had accommodation for its workers helps the farm owners sell their coffee to specialty coffee companies.

And it appears that the coffee industry is also a source of income for Sofía.

Because I read the websites of coffee companies who buy from this farm, and they write, we're paying more for this coffee so the farm is better able to support its farm workers and their children.

Sofía told me her dream is to be a great English translator, and she even knew a couple of phrases.

Sofía

Mmm, thank you, and you're welcome.

James Harper

She learnt this English down in the local town, where she was going to high school five days a week.

However, her parents were getting concerned.

To get to school and back, Sofía would walk an hour down a deserted dirt road.

An NGO worker told me about the rumours Sofía's parents had been hearing.

NGO Worker

It was, the dad tries to like walk the daughters to school because he overheard some men, like it was, people were telling him that they were planning on like, like attacking the daughters basically, like halfway like, when they're coming back home.

James Harper

But Sofía's father had a plan.

He told me he would move the family out of the farm provided accommodation and build a house himself halfway closer to the school.

I then left Nicaragua, and I came back a year later.

There was something about this girl trying to be an English translator and risking her life.

But what I discover when I come back, makes me question everything I was told by those coffee companies in Boston.

I soon learned Sofía's father followed through on his promise.

He downgraded his motorcycle, bought 100 or so thin planks of wood, a few sheets of tin, and built a house himself.

Testing, testing, testing, testing.

I hop out of an SUV, walk up a muddy trail to meet Sofía in her new house.

The first thing I notice is that her new house doesn't have any glass windows.

The only light coming through is from the corner in the ceiling, where the wooden planks don't quite reach the tin roof.

Sofía scrambles to get her shoes on for the occasion.

And then I ask her, what's it like living here?

She likes it.

And eventually, we talk about her school.

She tells me she changed school.

She dropped from five days of classes a week to just Saturday.

This is not the news I want to hear, especially after her father went to all the effort of building a house.

But she does assure me it's a good school.

It's run by a German NGO.

But how much English can you learn going to school one day a week?

OK, she says, yeah, you can learn a little bit, but it's not much.

And then I wonder, what does this mean for her dreams of being an English translator?

And she reassures me her dream hasn't changed.

I also check in with Sofía's mother while her toddler tugs at her skirt.

And she alludes to marital problems, financial difficulties.

But I don't fully follow.

My Spanish is quite clumsy and I don't have an interpreter like last time, which is why I keep using this word.

I thought it meant, oh, yeah, nice.

It actually means cute.

So as I walked around their house, I kept saying, cute, cute.

But this misunderstanding is trivial compared to what happens next.

The non-profit is on my case.

We got to go.

So I give Sofía and her mother a bag of cookies.

And I trudge back down to the waiting SUV.

And as we're driving away, one of the non-profit staff mentioned something about Sofía that at first I don't quite understand.

So I know that's a profound sadness.

But mirada, I know mira means to see.

And I realize she's saying Sofía had a profound sadness in her eyes as I was speaking with her mother about their financial difficulties.

Whoa, how did I miss that?

And what else did I miss?

Sofía's mother

Si, casi todo.

James Harper

I listen back to the tape of Sofía's mother as her toddler tugs on her skirt.

And what I realize she's telling me is that 10 years ago, her husband was unfaithful and had a child with another woman.

But that woman has come back into their lives and is demanding child support.

And this is the problem right now because Sofía's father, who works on this specialty coffee farm, hasn't been paid for months.

No wonder Sofía had a profound sadness in her eyes.

And then I think, has Sofía dropped from five days of schooling to one because her mother now has to go out and pick coffee?

And meanwhile, who's going to look after Sofía's baby sister?

And then I question whether Sofía's dream is to really be an English translator.

Because when I asked her, she actually gave me a couched answer.

She said, yes, I still want to be an English translator.

But if something else comes along, I'm happy with that too.

And yeah, sure, she's a teenager.

Her dreams are going to change.

But I'm left with this feeling that Sofía doesn't want to tell me what she actually wants to do with her life.

But nevertheless, speaking to Sofía and learning that her dad hasn't been paid for months.

This is a specialty coffee farm.

What is going on?

A few days later, I'm in a taxi in a nearby city and I get out in front of a cafe.

I'm here to meet Catherine.

She owns the cafe and the farm where Sofía's dad works.

Catherine

Can you hang around for like maybe 30 minutes or so?

James Harper

I catch her just as she's diving into a meeting.

So I order a coffee, sit down and I can't help but admire this bag of roasted coffee sitting under a warm orange light on the shelf.

Catherine

I'm going to be in the office.

I don't think there's no one there right now.

James Harper

Catherine finds me and says, when you're done, knock on the office door.

Catherine

I think we can do it here, right?

Because there's not a lot of...

James Harper

And she and I perch in between computer monitors.

Catherine

How much time do you think you need?

James Harper

Catherine is Nicaraguan.

But what strikes me is that her English is impeccable.

Catherine

Well, you know, I went to school in the US.

So I went to college in the US when I was done with high school.

James Harper

Now, I don't want to start this interview accusing Catherine of not paying Sofía's father for months.

So I go easy and get some facts.

How many people work on your farms?

Catherine

You know, this year, right now, we don't have a lot because everything that's going on in the country, a lot of people, a lot of workers left.

James Harper

And the first thing she mentions is the political situation.

Catherine

Expected it, right?

It exploded like one day.

One day was like April 17th.

And the next day was April 18th.

And everything changed.

And we were like...

James Harper

In between me visiting last year and this year, the government had fired bullets into crowds of protesters, killing hundreds.

Catherine

We didn't know what was going to happen.

And people were up in the streets.

And everyone was concerned that there was going to be a full-on civil war again.

So yeah, that was...

James Harper

I soon learn this political crisis has been devastating for Catherine's businesses.

Catherine

This last year was really tricky because the bank stopped giving us loans.

You know, and normally...

James Harper

She tells me coffee farms are dropping dead alongside the street protesters.

Catherine

...that he was already giving up.

He's giving up his farm today.

You know, he's giving up his farm today to the bank because he can't afford it anymore.

James Harper

And then she brings up the specialty coffee companies I met back in Boston.

Catherine

Because of what's happening, a lot of our clients either stop buying from Nicaragua for this last cycle or...

James Harper

Overnight, Catherine loses half her buyers.

Catherine

Because they were afraid that the coffee was not going to be able to get out of the country.

Because of everything...

James Harper

And her former customers just bought from a different country.

Catherine

And there is so many other countries you could buy coffee from.

So I understand from a business...

James Harper

And I'm now feeling outraged at these specialty coffee companies.

Why aren't they supporting Catherine in her time of need?

Catherine

It was complicated, you know, because you expect the roasters right on the other side to stand with you.

But also, you know, at the end of the day, I've learned that it's a business, right?

And a lot...

James Harper

Sales, business.

Catherine mentions it a lot.

Catherine

So I understand from a business standpoint, right?

That they would prefer to minimize the risk.

But obviously, it does affect the producer.

James Harper

Minimize the risk.

The risk of what?

Is it the risk of me waking up one morning to discover that my coffee roaster doesn't have coffee for me because it got stuck in Nicaragua?

Yeah, you gotta minimize that risk.

I need my coffee in the morning.

It's non-negotiable.

But does that mean that I'm the reason Sophia's father hasn't been paid for months?

But there's something still lingering with Catherine.

While I'm in Nicaragua, I learn about the primary school on her farm.

This is the same school that specialty coffee roasters say they are supporting with higher prices.

So, for a number of years, an outside charity ran the school.

But they've recently left.

And word on the street is that it wasn't voluntary.

I want to know from Catherine, why did you take on the costs of running this school at the same time as half your buyers stopped buying from you?

I start easy.

So, yeah, so how does education work on your farms?

Catherine

You know, we, in the last few years, we had...

James Harper

Catherine tells me the kids on her farm are so bright and raring to learn.

Catherine

You know, because a lot of these kids are really, they're really smart and really passionate about their education.

So right now we're doing that.

James Harper

She tells me they have plans to take these kids out on field trips.

Catherine

Going to the ocean or whatever, so they can expand their vision a little bit of the world.

James Harper

She plans to bring down American volunteers to teach English.

Catherine

For like three months.

James Harper

She touches on female empowerment.

Catherine

For women.

James Harper

Deconstructing toxic masculinity.

Catherine

There's even a lot of machismo in the cities.

In the country, it's another story.

James Harper

And this all sounds really great, actually.

It's just what I want to hear.

But I start getting concerned when I probe how much money Catherine's putting towards the school.

The outside charity used to cover uniform costs.

There could sometimes be over a week's wages for Sophia's dad.

And although uniforms aren't compulsory, the charity knew that kids who wear uniforms are more likely to stay in school.

Catherine

At the beginning of the year, we didn't have enough budget to do the uniforms.

James Harper

But Catherine tells me they didn't have enough money to do the uniforms.

So then I ask her straight out.

Why did you decide to run the school yourself?

Catherine

I guess we want our clients to be involved in it too.

You know, that way when our clients come, they're able to tell right away what their impact is, right?

And they know that we're the ones taking care of the project.

So we had a few clients actually that we've talked about.

James Harper

Is Catherine telling me that she removed the charity that could afford uniforms she can't?

Because it would make it easier for her to sell her specialty coffee to those coffee companies I spoke to in Boston?

Catherine

And that way, we just wanted to make it more direct, right?

Because we really want that direct relationship with the client.

So yeah, basically, that was the main motivation behind that.

James Harper

I'm now outraged at Catherine.

But I'm also outraged at the specialty coffee companies.

If these coffee companies care about the kids on the farms they buy from, why aren't they doing a bit more due diligence?

But then I think, but if I were them, why should I?

I trust what Catherine's telling me.

And I love what I'm hearing.

Catherine's farm is empowering girls and teaching them English.

And this is exactly what my coffee customers want to hear.

And they're absolutely right.

It's exactly what I want to hear.

Catherine

A responsibility of any human, you know, it's part of the human condition to do the best that you can to alleviate a little bit of the pain.

James Harper

I begin to reflect on the idea of being told what you want to hear.

Because speaking with Catherine feels very similar to speaking with Sofia.

And it reminds me of when I was speaking with that coffee company at the Boston Convention Center.

Is everybody here just telling me what I want to hear?

I mean, I am at the end of this supply chain.

Wouldn't everyone like a bit of my money?

And then it dawns on me.

So many of Sofia's struggles can be pinned on me as a coffee drinker.

Sofia's father hasn't been paid for months because I don't want Nicaragua's political situation getting in between me and my coffee.

Catherine removed the charity that could afford uniforms because it helps us sell a story to specialty coffee companies.

A story they want to hear because that's what I want to hear.

But Catherine then mentioned something that makes me wonder whether should I be so hard on myself?

Catherine

I mean, something that my dad has always said to us.

I know that my dad talks, my dad trying to convince me, you know, my dad was, I mean, my dad goes to the farm.

James Harper

Catherine mentions her father almost 20 times.

And he has a very unusual story.

Catherine's father bought these coffee farms.

And he is also one of the richest men in this city.

But when he was growing up, he had even less money than Sofia.

I arranged with Catherine to meet her father in the evening.

Catherine meets me before I've even had a chance to press the electric buzzer.

Catherine's father is a man in his early 60s, and he's a doctor.

His bookcase is filled with medical books.

Behind his large desk is a glass window that looks out onto a courtyard.

And the first thing he tells me is that he was born and raised on a coffee farm, just like Sofia.

James Harper

And for the next two hours, he just talks.

His story could be a whole podcast in itself.

James Harper

He grows up in a village, two days donkey ride to the nearest city.

The doctor never knew his father, and his mother ran off with another man.

He was adopted by someone in the village, a village with no school and no electricity.

But he learns to read by deciphering the letters on the side of a toothpaste box.

Occasionally, outsiders would show up to his village and they noticed how gifted he was.

The outsiders try to persuade his father to let him go and get educated.

But his father refuses.

He's a man of the land, expects the same of his son.

But the outsiders don't give up, and his father eventually relents.

And he goes to one of the best private schools in the city.

But he has a problem.

His father isn't covering all the school fees.

And one day, he's told you can't sit any exams because you haven't paid.

He cries and the school suggests, go speak to the mayor.

And the mayor gives him a full scholarship.

As the doctor tells me his story, I think back to Sofia.

I think about the risks she was taking getting to school and back along that empty dirt road.

The fact her father hasn't been paid for months on a farm this doctor owns.

And Sofia is now going to school one day a week.

Back in the doctor's office, an earthquake, yoga, a civil war, his story goes on.

But by the late 90s, he's a trained doctor.

He's got a bit of money and he sees that global coffee prices have collapsed.

James Harper

And so he buys some coffee farms because when prices are cheap, it's a good time to buy.

James Harper

Finally, two hours into this conversation, he finishes his life story.

And I can't help but notice he mentions this one word over and over.

Doctor

Era suerte mía, era pura suerte porque a nadie le sucedían esas cosas.

James Harper

Suerte, luck.

He was lucky that outsiders convinced his father to let him get an education.

He was lucky the mayor gave him a scholarship.

I point out to the doctor that his childhood is quite similar to the kids who live on his coffee farms.

And I ask him, what quality of education are you giving these kids?

And I want him to say, because I had so much luck in my life, that's why I want to give opportunities to other kids too.

And he very quickly starts talking about coffee prices.

He says the entire world profits from coffee.

Except the farmer, the producer.

He describes every link in the supply chain and how each makes money.

Except the producer.

And I think he's right.

Yes, the doctor's farm grows specialty coffee.

And yes, he gets higher prices for those coffees.

But he also grows a lot of supermarket coffee.

And it's very hard, if not impossible, for many farmers to make money growing that cheaper coffee.

I didn't realize how little of this farm's coffee is sold as specialty.

And now I understand why the doctor is talking about coffee prices.

He's kind of saying, how can you ask me about the quality of the education on my farms when I'm selling coffee into this system, where it's a miracle I'm not bankrupt?

And then we start talking about the role of luck in his life.

He says everything I got in life is down to my hard work.

Life is hard and you shouldn't walk around as if you deserve something.

And for once, I'm being told something I don't want to hear.

And I actually appreciate it.

But why is it happening?

Could the answer have something to do with the fact he's a doctor and that's where he makes his money?

That's what sent his kids to American universities.

Although he owns coffee farms, he doesn't need the money from them.

And so he doesn't need my money.

And then I reflect, the doctor's story is a rags to riches tale.

But my story is a riches to riches tale.

As I leave the doctor's house, I think to myself, if I really care about Sofia, I need to stop walking around expecting other people to help her.

What am I doing to help her?

And before I leave Nicaragua, I make one hurried attempt.

I walk back into Catherine's Cafe and pick up that bag of coffee under the warm orange light.

The name of the farm where Sofia's dad works is written on this bag.

The till tells me it's about $8 for half a pound of roasted coffee.

Maybe $2 from this sale will end up in Sofia's father's hand.

As soon as the payment is complete, I'm out the door and I jump on a bus.

As the bus blares 80s tunes along the highway, I take out the bag of coffee.

I squeeze it and smell chocolate.

I dip my hand in and feel the smooth beans roll across my fingers.

They're like pebbles.

Did Sofia's father and mother touch these exact same beans?

Hmm, how much did Sofia really get from my trip?

Literally a bag of cookies and maybe, just maybe, a dollar?

This is not going to help Sofia reach her dream, whatever that dream actually is.

I still love the idea that my coffee dollars could help a kid in a faraway place get an education.

But it is just that, an idea.

So, thank you for listening.

I hope it wasn't too heavy.

If you would like to help Sofia, I don't have a direct way of doing that.

But one thing we can do as coffee drinkers is donate to charities when we enjoy our coffees.

My friend has made a list of coffee charities.

It's called Coffee in Good Hands and there's a link in the episode description.

This piece was produced by me.

I also composed and performed the piece.

And I want to mention that to pay the bills these days, I'm helping other people make podcasts.

So, if you'd like to work with me, get in touch.

Hello at filterstories.org.

I want to thank Dom Edgley for providing me technical sound advice and Headquarters, the branding and packaging design team that created the Filter Stories logo.

And that's it.

Stay safe out there and until next time.