Oso Negro Coffee

Huehuetenango's Hidden Valley

by John Cossette of Royal Coffee Inc., Green Coffee Importers, San Francisco

Just when I thought there was nowhere left to go to find a new coffee source, along came a fledgling group of organic coffee growers from a remote corner of Guatemala. Located in the extreme northeast of the province of Huehuetenango are the folks from the coffee cooperative of ASOBAGRI. Ever since I'd met them and began doing business with them last summer, they had insisted I pay them a visit and get to know their region. Of course I would, who wouldn't want to visit Huehuetenango, internationally acclaimed tourist destination? They did remind me, however, that they were very far away, at the end of the road. Since that is where I am usually situated, at least mentally, I figured I was meant to go there. A couple of weeks ago, I took them up on their offer.

The extent of their remoteness was no exaggeration. The trip began from Huehuetenango City, five hours to the southwest. The journey to our destination was every bit as surreal as the previous week's adventure in Mexico. We immediately ascended a mountain range and were shortly driving way up in the altiplano at 3000 meters. We were beyond corn and coffee cultivation, into true Andean like potato growing country. Every turn of the narrow dirt road held a changing landscape - deep canyons, wool clad citizens toting vast bundles on their heads, an open meadow on laundry day with colored weavings and clothing scattered chaotically over the sun soaked hillside spread out to dry, looking like intermission at a Grateful Dead concert. The scenario was punctuated with Mexican ranchero music playing in the jeep the whole time. At the road's apex, we entered the clouds and passed through a cold village with drunks on the street, shoeless dirty faced kids, and 3 legged dogs. At last, we rounded a bend, descended rapidly and were suddenly in a pristine mountain village nestled in a lush hanging alpine valley at 1500 meters above sea level. How did this place get here?

We'd arrived in the village of Barillas. Here was located the office, meeting house, and coffee storage sight of ASOBAGRI. Awaiting our arrival were a couple of dozen coffee growers, happy to have a day away from the farm. ASOBAGRI is a cooperative with 662 coffee growers scattered throughout the region. Roughly 100 of these growers, or "socios" as they are called, are certified organic growers. Currently we are only purchasing their certified organic production which is still small but growing. The union of ASOBAGRI and Royal proved historic for both parties in that our purchase of their coffee this year represented their first coffee sale outside the country, while for us it was the first time we have been able to purchase directly from a small grower cooperative in Guatemala, where coffee exports are tightly controlled by a rather elite group of exporters. The growers were both excited and surprised by our presence-we were the first foreign coffee buyers they had ever seen in this area.

Lengthy meetings were held with introductions and speeches. It was demonstrated by the head of the cooperative that by selling to us direct rather than handing their coffee over to an exporter, the cooperative realized up to 20% additional profits. The following day we went out to visit some farms. As mentioned, the growers are dispersed about the side of the valley and over the hills into adjacent mountains and canyons. The geography here is intriguing in that the coffee growing area straddles the continental divide. Some of the farms face toward Coban and receive an Atlantic influence, while others face west toward Mexico and receive a Pacific influence with less rain. Coffee cultivation here is relatively new, having only begun about 20 years ago on steep mountainsides formerly cultivated in corn and beans. We visited farms from 1300 to 1700 meters above sea level. We noted heavy growth on the coffee trees but the cherries were still very green. The harvest here does not begin in earnest until January and lasts through April.

While the point of the visit was to learn all I could about this cooperative and their region, I also wanted to get a sense of their organization and dedication in regards to organic coffee cultivation. It was pointed out that few if any growers in the cooperative use agrochemicals, but mere chemical abstinence alone does not qualify a grower as organic within the cooperative. Organic growers are required to implement and manage shade trees on the farm, practice soil conservation by using mulch and by planting in contours, they must make their own compost from cherry pulp and apply it to their coffee trees, and they must actively manage the farms with yearly pruning of both the coffee trees and the shade trees where necessary. The code of organic grower behaviour and practices was recited like a creed by the certified farmers. We saw 2 brothers laboring near their compost heap. They will become certified this year, having completed the 3 year transition period. They were originally skeptical about the organic management practices because it meant more work for them, but are now glad they've held out. They claim to know two or three times more about their own small farm than they did before they farmed it organically. Hummingbirds and butterflies zigzagged between us as we spoke.

Time was short and we had to be moving on. Though our visit was brief, we learned more about the grower cooperative system and the pride and empowerment it gave to the farmers. We learned about the growing conditions of the region and the strict standards maintained by the organic growers of the cooperative. We learned that we were way the hell out at the end of the road where telephones still have not arrived. In two short days we bonded well and formed a strong alliance. Since our meeting, we've negotiated for next year's crop, with certified organic shipments in February, March, and May.

Another five-hour ride back to Huehuetenango. This time the sun was gone as we drove completely in the clouds for the entire trip back. A five-seater single engine plane awaited us in Huehue to fly us on to Guatemala City. As we piled in along with a couple of other stray passengers, the pilot took out his calculator and announced we had too much weight. I looked with an accusing eye to a fellow rider who was carrying an ancient manual typewriter that weighed as much as a small piano. "Oh well", announced the pilot, "if I can't get her up in the air before we get close to those houses at the end of the runway, we'll just have to abort the flight". With those words of comfort, we rattled down the runway. Thirty minutes later after intense prayer and consuming the remainder of the bottle of tequila I'd been toting around since Mexico for just such an emergency, we landed softly in Guatemala City. It was there that I kissed my first tarmac.