Yesterday was a really fun but really exhausting day. I woke to downpouring rain (early) to go on a coffee tour. The guide took me and 6 of my friends, or rather aquaintances, other wzungu I've met in an old daladala. As we were driving up a steep muddy road, by now the rain had stopped, the van swirved out of control side to side sometimes almost going off the cliff. We decided it would be best if we walked the rest of the way. This would've been fine, but the walk was soo slippery and muddy and uphill. It took about 2 hours. Two of the girls had flip flops on and just ended up taking their shoes. I had good hiking shoes, and I was still struggling. We walked through huge crowds of people leaving church that was neear the top of this steep hill. A lot of the men and women, the women dressed in very nice kangas (african fabric) and the men in suits, wore rain boots. And I thought that was a western thing! A group of about 20 kids followed us for most of the way, laughing at us the whole time. The landscape was beautiful though. We passed through banana farms, coffee bean plants and the view of Killi and Moshi was really pretty. We finally got to the coffee farm, which was about as local and organic as it gets. It was just a family that cared for the plants and they used old Chagga procedures to care for them. Well, we get there tired and hungry and very muddy, but the coffee farmer,Oscar had just stepped out. Our lunches were also in the car at the bottom of the mountain. So, they took us on another treacherous hike to a waterfall. The path was narrow and muddy and on a mountain. But again, quite pretty. We passed homes made of sticks and mud, old women in kangas who ran down the path and laughed at us with our walking sticks in hand, and kids begging us for money. The waterfall was beautiful. It was probably the biggest one I had ever seen. When we got back to the coffee farm, we met Oscar, who was a young very funny man. I felt like an ass for scarfing down our well balanced lunches in front of his kids (or siblings?) who just stared at us. They were clearly hungry and clearly malnourished. They stared at us like puppies, but we're the sweetest and most polite kids and only smiled and made conversation with us.

Anyways, the coffee process is interesting. Oscar had us pick some beans that were ripe. They have to be a bright red color. The beans are slimy when he first peels them, in this machine that looks like something the pilgrims used...pretty old fashioned. These beans have to dry for several days, so he showed us ones that had already been dried. He did some other things to the beans, and I took pictures, but I honestly don't remember what he was doing. I do remember him roasting them in a pan over a fire made from sticks. The smell is amazing. After this we ground the beans by pounding them with a big stick. I bought a smaller version to grind my own coffee like this. Of course there is a song for this, and I'll bring that skill back with me as well.

Before we drank the coffee, he asked if we wanted coffee candy. Who says no to candy? Well, coffee candy is just ground coffee mixed with sugar, like real sugar, just picked...or whatever. Yum. The coffee was the most delicious coffee though. He made us a fresh pot over the fire. I bought a huge bag of it, that will be picked and prepared right before I leave in August.

When the van came back to get us, it made it up the mountain, the ride down was terrifying. We almost rolled off a cliff. So, again we got out, and like the wzungu asses we are, stood there and took pictures of the struggling driver, guide and van as they all tried to get the van unstuck and to stay on the road.I remember the van becoming unstuck when a taxi who's front window said, Homeboy, passed us in the grass off the road. All you can do in Tanzania sometimes is laugh.I came home that night, tired, a little nauseous, really dirty and hungry,but it was an amazing day. Small coffee farms are pretty cool.