Most of our coffee crop was destroyed by Patrick the Impaler.
Patrick is the guy that the developers have on site to supervise the “improvements.” Nancy’s first week living here, Patrick started whacking down our coffee plants. He stopped when confronted with two women (Nancy and her friend Cheryl.) A topographer (surveyor) was called and sho’ ’nuff the coffee was on our property. It wasn’t even close to being on the property the development owns.
That was seven months ago, the coffee plants still have not been replaced. (Patrick admitted he was wrong and promised to replace the coffee.) We’re still waiting.
In the meantime, on hillsides all over Costa Rica, coffee is being harvested. Mostly by Nicaraguans (because its hard, hot, work for low pay.) Nicas are Costa Ricas migrant workers – imported at very low wages on a temporary basis. They get about $3 a basket and pickers can do 5-7 baskets a day depending on the location.
Not on our finca.
The harvesting falls to the owner and he works for food.
And it was bloody.
Naturally.
If I don’t leave a trail of blood whenever I finish a job, I consider myself a failure.
The dark red beans are the ones that should be harvested and taken to market. The dark beans are dried up and worthless. The fruit covering the beans is easily removed during the drying process.
Nancy and I found the co-op that buys most of the local coffee.
The picture above will be our entire crop.
We won’t be hauling it to the co-op.
Unless I get a blood transfusion.
