“I want this music!”

That’s what JJ said as we sat around our room in the Carl L. Becker residence hall here at Cornell University. Country music, again. And I’m wondering how it can be that we fall in love with each other’s music—me and others with JJ’s, he with ours—and country music no less! We’ve decided that when we return to California, we’ll make some tapes from the country stations in Mendocino (they’re plentiful!).

We’ve just finished up with our last event here at Cornell, a wonderful lecture, followed by a delicious dinner in JJ’s honor. As JJ chats with his family, thanks to his recently purchased long-distance phone card, I sit reflecting back on the past three days…

Arriving to the warm reception of Dean Cindy Hazan…

Graciously ferried from place to place by our friend Marielle Macher, who organized our schedule perfectly…

Curt Bayer and the kind folks at Ten Thousand Villages

Rabbi Glass, Phyliss and our other new friends at Temple Beth El…

The students who met with us, and especially Jeff, who shadowed us with a bag of instruments that inevitably turned a meeting into a jam session…

The wonderful interfaith reception last night…

Eileen, head chef downstairs, who fed us the most delicious and wholesome food…


JJ and I will leave tomorrow morning to continue our outreach, to continue spreading the word of delicious peace. We will leave knowing that we’ve made new friends, and that the circle of support continues to grow in wonderful ways. Check out the pictures below: JJ outside of Collegtown Bagels before his performance; the Carl L. Becker House crew; and JJ playing fair trade pan pipes from Ecuadar at Ten Thousand Villages.

Thank you to everyone who made these last three days possible!


Democracy Now!

JJ and I have our first free time in a few days. Kind of a relief. JJ’s discovered Democracy Now, and is commending Amy Goodman for her courageous reporting. Indeed. And though I’m from the country, I greatly prefer her show to the country station that he decided we should fall asleep to last night!

We’re in Ithaca, hosted very graciously by Cornell University, and a coalition of campus-based student groups.The funny thing here is that the posters, which we see everywhere, and which give both JJ and I a huge laugh every time, introduce “Grammy nominee JJ Keki and Ben Corey-Moran”, as if I had anything to do with JJ’s incredible music, or can even hold a melody! Still, JJ has told me that I’m now required to sing with him at all of our performances, because the people will expect it, so we’ll see what we can do.

Big ups to our friends at Ithaca College for a wonderful gathering last night. Julie, Jeff, Dara, Rabbi Glass, and everyone else who came out to meet JJ and share their support with us. Here are a couple of pictures…ithaca1.jpgithaca21.jpg

United Students for Fair Trade

It’s 11:30 on Sunday night, just a little over two days after the convergence began.. Just like that, it’s over. Just over three hundred students from every corner of the US, farmers and cooperative leaders from Ecuador, Peru, Paraguay, Guatemala, El Salvador, Tanzania, Ghana, and of course, Uganda. Joining JJ at this incredible gathering was Willington Wamayeye, the leader of Peace Kawomera’s export cooperative Gumutindo. All together, the convergence represented a gathering of some of the fair trade movements most inspired leaders, supporters, and dreamers.

I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of coming together at this kind of conference, and of furthering our understandings of fair trade as a model, and as a broader movement. It’s incredibly energizing to be surrounded by so many people committed to working together to strengthen this movement to transform the economic links connecting our world, and building justice.

Then of course, there are the simple, and funny and beautiful moments of human interaction. Watching JJ walk down the icy sidewalks of Boston (check the picture, yes that’s Fenway Park in the background), cold and happy, translating from spanish to English as JJ and Willington spoke with fair trade banana farmers from Ecuador, and joining in fascinating conversations with students hungry for a better understanding of fair trade, its strengths and weaknesses, and its future direction.
Tomorrow we leave for Ithaca, for Cornell University, and beyond. JJ will leave behind many new friends, all inspired by his story, and the work of Peace Kawomera for peace and justice. I can only marvel, and reflect with gratitude, at the blossoming that continues to expand the community of support for this incredible project. I’d be sad to take JJ away from this weekend, except that I know he’s not really leaving. During his keynote speech on Friday night he began with his signature introduction: my name is JJ Keki. JJ Keki, at Yahoo-dot-com.

“A nice Jewish deli…”

deli.jpgThanks to Rabbi Jeff Summit and Richard Sobol for lunch! JJ and I are in Boston for United Students for Fair Trade’s annual convergence. But before it all began, we were lucky enough to sneak away for a quick lunch with two of JJ’s oldest American friends.

Over lunch of pastrami sandwiches (Kosher, yes JJ) we heard the exciting news from Jeff and Richards work: the recordings they made during their visit to the cooperative in August have been well recieved, and it is likely that Smithsonian Folkways will release the album in the coming year. The album features music from the farmers of Peace Kawomera; the songs they sing while they pick coffee, the songs the cooperative has composed to teach its members about fair trade, about quality production, and about the virtues of cooperation and peace. To go along with the music will be Richard’s beautiful photographs of life in the cooperative. We thank Jeff and Richard for the delicious lunch, but more importantly, for their beautiful contribution to this project.

Views: The Cooperative

The office is small, set on the left side of a building that houses four small store fronts. It’s Namonyoni town’s mini mall. Inside the office is a large wooden desk which serves as a work space, and then as a table when it’s pulled to the center of the room. Inside the office chalk figures on stucco walls advertise last year’s coffee prices, and politely request: No Smoking Please.

The Cooperative gathers slowly. A meeting begins not at a set time, but when everyone has arrived. At first the board of directors mill about in front, greeting each other, talking and joking. The meeting begins inside, with a formality that articulates a break from the everyday. This is business, and it’s serious: the assembled members have been placed with the responsibility of managing a cooperative of 570 farmers — friends, neighbors, children, and family.

They discuss the two-year old cooperative and recent requests from members in the community. Many people want to join, and the cooperative wants to include everyone. But will they be able to manage the growth in business?

Farmers are anticipating a good harvest. Will the cooperative be ready to buy and store all the coffee? Some farmers are worried that they will spend the extra time and effort to produce high quality beans, and then the cooperative won’t be able to pay them.

Many members grow vanilla alongside their coffee. Can the cooperative look into finding a better market for the members’ vanilla beans? Many farmers are worried that they have all their hopes in coffee alone — what would happen if the harvest failed or the market collapsed?

Recently a delegation of students from US-based United Students for Fair Trade came to visit the cooperative. Many farmers were happy with this visit, and were honored that the students visited their churches, mosques, and synagogues. They want to encourage such visits; perhaps through these visits the world will learn of their work to unite for peace.

The meeting ends with a lunch of boiled plantains, beans, and greens. Plans are made for upcoming trainings on coffee picking and a workshop to remind farmers of processing standards in preparation for the coming harvest. As lunch ends everyone mills about, slowly dispersing to return to their homes: delegates, organizers, businessmen and women, building something together.

Views: Greetings

It goes a little something like this:

On the worn grass bordering the dusty dirt road, two friends walk towards each other. One, a man, slows his gait, and with a voice like a deep river extends his greeting: Mirembe Mai (Peace be with you, mother). His friend, older by ten years, bows gently and responds with ease: Mirembe Baba (Peace be with you, father). They shake hands, first palm on palm, then linking thumbs, then palm on palm. They stand and speak.

— How is it with you today?
— It is good.
— Hmmm. They both murmer deep in their throats.
— How is your family?
— They are well.
— Hmmm. Their resonant responses punctuates their conversation with acknowledgement of each word and thought.

They are still holding hands.

They wish each other well, then continue on in opposite directions, only to stop twenty feet later to greet a friend at work in a nearby field, a friend on a bike, or a family of women winnowing millet. They continue on, each giving form to what seems like an elaborate square dance, partners switching, rotating, turning on down the road.

When going somewhere together, they — men, women, children — hold hands.

Views: Cupping

“Today I want to share a secret with you” I announced to the farmers gathered. We were seated on wooden benches in the cooperative’s small office, around the desk which had been placed in the center of the room to serve as a table. “For generations you have grown coffee, but have you ever tasted it? Do you know the quality of your own product?”

As JJ Keki translated from English to Luganda, I thought of the farmers I’ve worked with in the Dominican Republic, in Mexico, in Nicaragua, and Rwanda. I thought of the pride they take in their beautiful farms, and the lessons that they continue to teach me.

“You see, the market has always been controlled by buyers, who don’t know anything about producing great coffee, but they’ve kept the secret of tasting it to themselves. Today I want to share that secret with you. Because I want you to know how good your coffee is, so that you know what it’s worth, so that you never have to accept an unfair price from a buyer again.” When JJ finished translating, the room was filled with the energy only a teacher knows—the wonderful sense of closeness to learning and knowledge. A sense of discovering a piece of the future.

Mr. Sam, the Coop’s Secretary brought in a half-dozen coffee mugs in different shapes and sizes, 20 soupspoons, and a teakettle of hot water. Out of my bag I pulled 6 sealed plastic bags that our Head Roaster, Steve Angley, had prepared for me three weeks earlier in California. Inside each bag were ground samples of some of the world’s best coffees: Nicaraguan, Sumatran, Ethiopian, Guatemalan, Rwandan, and yes, Ugandan. I labeled each mug with a slip of paper, leaving a blank slip of paper in front of the Ugandan mug.

It was a bit like calling a contra dance from then on: I measured coffee into each mug, and then choreographed group sniffing, sipping, and evaluation. After each of us had slurped at least 20 spoonfuls, I led our discussion of quality. I talked about acidity, and pointed out the sensation of acidity on the palette, especially with the lively Nicaraguan coffee. I talked about character, and origin-specific flavor, pointing out the uniqueness of the Ethiopian and Sumatran coffees. I talked about processing and the importance of careful picking, best exemplified by the roundness of the Rwandan coffee’s flavor. Then, overtaken by the drama of the moment, I declared that there was one coffee that had yet to be defined, “Did anyone know which it was?” Mr. Dan, dressed dapper as always in a grey suit jacket, answered my question with a wry smile “Yes, of course, it’s ours, and it’s the best.”

I smiled as I thought of the communion he was making in that moment with every coffee farmer I’ve ever worked with, people all over the world, who are connected by their strength and pride. “Mr. Dan, I said, you are a coffeeman. You’ve just proven it: you know deep in your heart that your coffee carries the sweetness of the energy you put into it, the depth of its flavor reflecting your work and life. And you can taste it.” The others applauded Mr. Dan, and he took a small bow before returning to his seat.

“The flavor of your coffee,” I continued on “is noticeably sweet. It stands out here on the table among the other coffees of the world. But why is this so? How do you feed your coffee trees, how do you pick their cherries? How do you deplulp and wash the beans, and how do you dry them? The way you do each of those will impact the flavor, and your goal must be to learn to taste this impact, to find the best way, the way that will produce even more sweetness, and even more character.”

Tasting is the link that puts the tools of the specialty coffee trade in the farmer’s hands. The ability to experiment and evaluate, and experiment again, while defining the process and improving quality, is what makes our coffee development methodology at Thanksgiving Coffee Company so powerful. It is a model that’s human-centered, and recognizes the universal human desire for excellence. It is farmers with the power in their own hands, and cooperatives building that power for their members.

Our meeting came to a close with a presentation by JJ on the co-ops plans for a cupping (tasting) laboratory to be built at their new headquarters. “There, each of you will be able to come and taste your coffee with our technical staff, and they will help you evaluate the quality that you produce, identify any problems, and ensure that our consumers are getting the best delicious peace coffee in the world.”

These are the moments when I see incredible potential in our work, where we take a few steps closer towards a world where coffee buyer, roaster, and grower relate to each other with deep respect, appreciation, and gratitude. May you savor the sweetness of each cup of Mirembe Kawomera “Delicious Peace” Coffee for many years to come!

Views: The Farm

This is where it all begins, this is the foundation that everything else is built upon. The light is bright as you gaze into the deep green of the forest. The farm begins where the home ends, usually the two are connected by a small strip of red earth so hard packed that it nearly shines with the intensity of the noonday sun. The first step into the farm is cushioned by the soft crunch of leaves mulching underfoot: the banana’s giant fan-shaped leaf, the mango’s thick, leathery leaf, and the acacias feathery needles. The sunlight is bright in spots, and dark with the shade of a forest canopy in others. This is the mottled light of a shade grown coffee farm. The air temperature drops 10 degrees immediately, and the smell is rich and full: I can’t help but think that it smells sweet and wholesome like chicken soup.

I visited so many farms in the two weeks that I spent with Peace Kawomera. Dozens of farms, each one proudly displayed by the man or woman who stewards these ecological gems, each one showed signs of hope and strength. What do hope and strength look like?

Hope looks like two year-old coffee trees just about to blossom for the first time, in preparation for their first fruiting in a year. Each of these little trees is carefully surrounded by a miniature moat to capture all of the occasional rainfall. Dug by hand, these little moats almost look like cradles. This is undoubtedly the work of farmers who have hope, and who see coffee as the source of that hope.

Strength looks like the pile of chicken manure that’s collected by the children from the front yard every morning, and carefully allowed to age so that it becomes the perfect organic nutrient for coffee trees. Strength is the deep green color of the coffee tree’s leaves, the heavy load of ripening cherries, and the thick layer of humus underfoot. This is the strength of nature, stewarded by organic agriculture, and protected by these amazing farmers.

Then of course there’s pride, which is the glue that holds it all together. Pride is the farmers smile, the way she holds her shoulders, and the way he walks through his trees. The view from of the farm is of a future of hope and strength, and that’s something to be proud of.

YES! Magazine – Java Justice

Winter 2006: Spiritual Uprising

Java Justice
by Dee Axelrod

Muslim, Jewish, and Christian coffee farmers make mirembe kawomera—delicious peace

photo-by-pk.jpg photo by Paul Katzeff

Mirembe Kawomera coffee delivers a double jolt.

First, there’s the caffeine, but right behind that tang comes the jolt of learning that the arabica beans were sold by an alliance of Muslim, Christian, and Jewish Ugandan­ farmers.

This unique cooperative in the Mbale region of Uganda is Mirembe Kawomera—Delicious Peace. Their coffee comes to market fairly traded, distributed by Thanksgiving Coffee, a Fort Bragg, California, company specializing in organic and fair trade produce.

By banding together and by establishing a fair trade relationship, the farmers now realize enough profits from sales to meet their families’ basic need­s—a sharp contrast to the hardship of trying to sell as individuals to large corporate buyers in a glutted world market. Better circumstances have, in turn, sweetened relations between the unique Mbale Jewish community and their more numerous Muslim and Christian neighbors.

The notion of forming a coffee cooperative was first conceived by Jewish community leader J.J. Keki as an economic survival tactic. In 1999, a worldwide coffee crisis developed as overproduction in new Brazilian and Vietnamese markets sent prices plummeting. The Mbale farmers were among the many growers who were hurt. Coffee farmers were forced to curtail children’s education so that the youngsters could go to work, or to sell off land their families had cultivated for generations.

In 2004, Keki went door-to-door, encouraging farmers of all faiths to band together. The alliance would be a first; interfaith relations had been strained since the establishment of the Ugandan Jewish community in 1919, when charismatic general Semei Kakungulu and followers converted to Judaism, rather than embrace the Christianity proffered by the British.

“The most serious problem for us is religious prejudice,” Keki said. “In Uganda, a Jew is referred to as a ‘Christ killer.’ Sometimes we have failed job interviews just because we are Jews.” And Muslim Ugandans, says Keki, believe that the Jews have been abandoned by God.

Keki can also recall how his father, during Idi Amin’s rule in the 1970s, narrowly missed punishment when he was caught studying the forbidden Torah. Fortunately, Keki says, the authorities were willing to accept a bribe of five goats in exchange for his father’s life.

But the history of prejudice would have to become less important than present concerns if the Mbale farmers were to survive in 2004. Keki, who had been supported by Muslims and Christians, as well as Jews, in a successful 2002 bid for a Namanyonyi Sub-County council seat, was widely considered a credible leader. Now, 400 farmers of all three faiths joined to form the coffee cooperative.

“We brainstormed,” Keki said, “and through participatory discussions we came up with the Mirembe Kawomera Cooperative.”

The diverse religious groups came together, Keki says, by focusing on what united them.

courrtesy-of-mk.jpgcourtesy Mirembe Kawamera

We looked to common things that were reflected in the holy books,” Keki said. “For example, we all acknowledge that we greet with the word of ‘peace’: shalom, salaam, mirembe.”

The next step was finding a market. Mirembe Kawomera got a break when American vocalist Laura Wetzler intervened. Wetzler learned about the Ugandan jews in the mid-1990s when she heard their Hebrew-African music on public radio.

Wetzler said. “I wrote away and got the tape. I learned all the songs, and I started telling the Abayu­daya’s stories in my concert work.” As coordinator of Kulanu, a Jewish nonprofit organizing community-development projects, Wexler had a mandate to help Mirembe Kawomera find a coffee market. She made 40 phone calls before Thanksgiving Coffee’s CEO, Paul Katzeff, agreed to buy the beans.

Next, Wetzler found a cooperative near Mbale that had already obtained the expensive Fair Trade certification the coffee would need to be sold through Thanksgiving. The Mirembe Kawomera Cooperative would buy farmers’ produce, which would then be processed through the nearby co-op and shipped to California.

Katzeff guarantees the farmers 20 to 40 cents per pound higher return than conventionally traded coffee. That makes their produce dependably lucrative for the farmers. There are other fair trade benefits, as well. Mirembe Kawomera can count on Katzeff’s commitment to an ongoing trade relationship, rather than having to cope with the insecurity of looking for a market each season. And Thanksgiving, like other fair trade buyers, contributes regularly to community development projects in Mbale. Thanksgiving’s contribution of one dollar for every package sold recently helped open and support a school there. The fair trade co-op has been so successful, Keki wants to see it duplicated.

“We hope to make the cooperative a model of championing development in communities,” he said. “We also hope that other cooperatives will emulate the principles of Mirembe and bring about peaceful coexistence. We get along very much
better. You can’t believe the peace and harmony that this community has enjoyed since the cooperative society was formed.”

Dee Axelrod is senior editor at YES!


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