For a while I thought there as no better way of getting to a coffee farm than riding in the back of an old pick up truck, cheeks blowing in the wind and taking in all the views….until I tried a motorcycle. After three days of being cooped up in a cute little hostel in the charming town of Alegria, El Salvador thanks to some friends (read: Amoebas) that found their way into my intestinal tract, I caught my breath again after an intense two weeks on the road.  Sebastian strolled up in his sporty ride, his light green eyes twinkled as he greeted me with a “buenos dias, Julita. Lista?” Si hombre! I replied. Sebastian is known by many as the pioneer of organic agriculture in the area, serving as an agriculture technician to many small coffee farmers around the eastern part of the country. Ten years ago when he began introducing the idea of organics, many thought he was crazy. Now his expert advice is priceless.  Today his shirt read “Organic Agriculture. The future is in our hands.”

  I strapped on my helmet and off we went. My parasites and I bounced along down the cobble street roads of this lively Central American town until we reached the smooth pavement.  Alegria is located on top of a beautiful volcano, and it’s name (happiness in English) is representative of its people, and charm and the feeling one is left with once visiting. Winding down along the mountain, Sebastian would point out to the land below at the miles and miles of mountains, rivers, lakes, and towns, with coffee plants on either side of us. He would name volcanoes and mountains, informing me of what direction we were traveling in. “Do you smell that?” he asks, “That’s poison (fertilizers).  This guy has 100 manzanas of land, and he applies way more than necessary.” I held my breath and noticed the lack of shade covering the coffee trees, which oftentimes means that chemicals are used since coffee trees do best when shade grown.  We cruised along through busier towns, semis and big buses passing us along the highway as dogs weaved in and out. This may not be the safest activity in El Salvador, but I couldn’t help but smile.  “Almost there,” he shouted.  As the air became cooler and the trees more dense, we slowed down as we rolled up to las Marias 93 cooperative.

Porfirio, a man not quite my size, strolled down the hill from the coffee nursery and greeted me with his big wide grin. I had just visited them a month before to see if there would be any possibility in creating a relationship between their cooperative and ours.  This time I was back to learn a bit more about their history, their current situation, and to simply get to know them a bit better. Las Marias 93 was formed in 1993 after the peace accords were signed, marking the end of a brutal civil war. In exchange for turning in their arms from the war, each member of the guerilla was given three manzanas of land, which happened to be coffee land, something they had little experience before the war.  The very hills where the farms are now located were home of revolutionary camps. We sipped coffee as the “jefe” or comandante shared stories of their lives during and after the war, about their organization, development, and how they have maintained their cooperative 17 years later.

Did the fact that these lands were coffee farms have anything to do with why you were fighting here? I asked Elmer, el jefe. “Of course,” he tells me, “these lands were owned by some of the wealthiest families in the country, while the rest of us had very little.  These used to be giant farms that were owned by one family.  The army came in strong, and this was a really rough area during the war because the military was afraid of losing these farms since so much money was generated here.  But we won the battle. And the land.” And how do you feel now that you have this land in your hands? I ask. “Well, we feel that it was worth it.  It feels good because now we own it.  It was a struggle to get started, but with the help of the European Union, we bought the land and renovate our plants, build homes, and move forward. All that we have is a result of our organization.”

Once the peace accords were signed and much of the land redistributed, many cooperatives were formed. However, with little support from the government or other organizations, few prospered. Las Marias tells me they are one of the few original cooperatives formed after the war that still remains strong. How do they do it? By being stubborn, they say. That, and creativity. They have several projects in the works aimed at strengthening their youth as well as their production. With help from youth groups from the US, they have built an Internet café, which the youth are in charge of.  They also have created a small organic fertilizer factory where the youth come to mix fertilizer for their members of their cooperative. Today we found a group of youngsters filling black plastic bags, on their way to reaching their goal of planting 100,000 seedlings to renovate their farms as well as to sell to other producers in the area, generating some income for the cooperative.  “The best part of our community is that we have no gangs. Within our development plan, we have integrated the youth and kept them busy. We are preparing them and showing them that they are our future, allowing them alternatives through their integration in the cooperative.” This is pretty admirable, considering the how much the gangs have plagued many cities and towns throughout this small country. Finally, thanks to the strong organization that exists within the cooperative, the Ministry of Agriculture has helped them with funding to build a huge greenhouse, which will be used to grow organic vegetables, protecting the plants from strong rains and pests. 

Among one of las Marias’ main goals is to close the coffee chain.  They are fortunate enough to have all of the processing facilities on site: wet processor, dry processor, a roaster, grinder, and packaging machine. Now all they need is a café in order to bring the whole product from seed to cup to a close on their own grounds.  The work that Las Marias is doing to improve their community is inspiring and serves as an example for others in the area.

As our visit came to an end, I loaded my backpack with coffee before hopping back on the moto and heading up to that little mountain town. We arrived safely, just beating the dark clouds headed our way. The night ended with a few bean and cheese pupusas, a discussion on organizing small farmers and access to markets with an older man at the pupuseria, and live music in the town square. Mmmm traveling.