Wednesday, March 08, 2006
No Thongs - Helen on the loose in East Timor
“No thongs, no singlets, no weapons.” Thus reads the sign outside the dining room of my hotel, an Eastern European cruise ship docked in the harbor of Dili, East Timor. I’ve come here under the auspices of the government (USAID) to evaluate the NCBA coffee project here. These guys are the good people from whom we buy our Timors, and the short story is, they’re doing a great job. The long story involves Nepali Gurkas, malaria, South African helicopter mechanics, the U.N., guns to the head, and an awful lot of acronyms. Suffice it to say that I am not the woman I was when I left three weeks ago.
Sam Filiaci, the New York-born brain behind this program, has been in Indonesia for 22 years, married to the lovely Rohani, daughter of a Sulawesi chief. He speaks fluent Indonesian, and when complimented on his command of the language and the culture, he responds simply, “This is my country.” He has started numerous projects for AID in Indonesia including successful, now-privatized furniture and shrimp businesses in Java and a project to add vanilla production to East Timor. He has now turned his scarily competent mind to coffee, in Sulawesi and Sumatra as well as East Timor. In the words of Australian Brian Jordan, advisor to Xanana Gusmao, the front-runner in the new election, if Sam and “NCBA back out now, coffee is ‘stuffed.’ At the very least, quality would immediately drop.” Fortunately for us, Filiaci has no immediate plans to back out.
Sam has taken East Timor from a country that produced dry-processed, low-grade coffees to one with washed, organic specialty coffee commanding prices in the top 1% of the market. He’s opened eight health clinics for the use of the 18,000+ people in his coop, and for humanitarian reasons, everybody else as well. In spite of the clinics’ efforts, 29 children died in January and February of malnutrition. In the course of the few weeks I was there, I saw Sam deal with an evaluation team, a government audit, the airlifting of a dying employee to hospital, and threats against his personnel and equipment. His mission is to “raise incomes and standards of living,” and he maintains that focus despite the chaos all around him. It was his idea to certify the coffee as organic, a smart move for a country that produces a naturally organic product, as fertilizers and chemicals were never introduced. This extraordinary feat has been accomplished in a mere six years and in spite of a war for independence from Indonesia that has left the country literally and figuratively burned out. During the time I am there, growers are just beginning to bring in cherry to the wet mills that NCBA has built in four locations in the country. Although I hear them described as “culturally averse to work,” they seem to have worked pretty hard on this cherry, as it’s all red, ripe, and luscious looking. Sam is explaining the low prices as a function of the NY”C” and the glut of coffee from Vietnam. Some of the growers become belligerent at the low prices and threaten to burn NCBA’s trucks. For Sam, this is par for the course, no big deal, and a lot easier than the time a drunken miltiaman held him up (the gun to the head part). Not surprisingly, the growers have no concept of the NY”C”. Tellingly, they have little idea either of “Vietnam.” With elections looming in August (the UN is temporarily in charge til then), a lack of understanding of market forces fuels opposing sides of the upcoming election battle; i.e. the price of cherry is low because you’re being ripped off vs. the price of cherry is low because the “C” is down. Either way, the price of cherry is low, and a man holding his baby daughter and looking very upset is a particularly poignant sight.
Now, it should be the government’s job to explain the “C” to the people, but in East Timor there is no government. Unless you count the UN, and I wouldn’t. My favorite description called them “the failed sons of Kosovo or Burundi.” My impression was that the country is presently overrun with incompetent bureaucrats, people from places like Chad, who don’t know anything about the language (Tetung) and culture and who actually think working in Dili is pretty cool, with good pay and steady meals. They’re not looking to leave soon, and in the meantime, they’re throwing the entire economy out of whack, paying too-high prices for services, and ignoring the fact that they’ll soon be gone and the Timorese will be left once again with nothing. Their idea of a plan is to pass out chemical fertilizers to this organic coffee project. Mercifully, the farmers themselves rejected that idea, saying they don’t want any “poo-poo.” Another example of mind-boggling ineptitude is the story of CARE who gave the farmers a tractor. During the dry season, these ingenious farmers used the tractor as a generator, which for some reason pissed off the CARE people and prompted them to take back their tractor. You spend much time here and you begin to wonder what the Timorese ever did to deserve this much misfortune.
Y’all may remember that it was USAID who advised Central American coffee countries to cut down their shade trees in the mid-seventies in order to increase their yield. This led to a temporary increase in yield, a diminution of quality, loss of habitat for North American migratory birds, and an ultimate return to previous yields. Fortunately, this AID group is not planning any massive extinction programs, although they do tend to sneer at “bio-diversity.” They’re focused on improving the lives of these people, but I must say I always think that bio-diversity IS an improvement. Just driving up from smelly, malarial Dili to the sweet mountain town of Maubisse, I am struck once again by the beauty of coffee regions. The coffee here (1400-2000 mt) is shaded primarily with Casuarina trees, while the lower grown Aifu (1100-1400 mt) is shaded by 150-ft. Albizzia, a variety of Acacia that forms a lovely, lacelike canopy over this truly forest-grown coffee. These people are not so much farmers as hunter-gatherers, and the “farm” is actually a naturalized coffee forest, punctuated by thick, yellow trunk bamboo, coco palms and banana palms and interspersed with Luciana Leucosefola, a pod-bearing legume which secures nitrogen to the soil. The lower grown coffee feels like Pacific island culture, but the Maubesse feels more Himalayan, with Asian ponies and conical-roof, thatched huts. Here they process 200 MT of cherry/day in 12 fermentation tanks (donated by the U.S. government, I’m pleased to say), with an overflow capacity of 60MT and 6 more tanks. They process 5000 MT/season. The best coffee comes in in August from the highest catchment slopes. With a minimum of 40 days from picking to boat, look out for those Oct and Nov ships.
The original varieties of typica and borbon trees were planted 400 years ago by the Portuguese. When coffee rust wiped out the original trees in the 19th century, a hybrid was created of robusta and arabica, Hybrido de Timor, also referred to as “arobusta.” The Portuguese left in 1975, and 8 months later the Indonesians invaded, and as you know they only just recently left. This is where the green-turban-wearing Gurkas (the elite, British trained Nepali fighting force) and the South African helicopter mechanics come in. They, along with green berets, American marines, and lots of guys with Midwestern twangs and crewcuts, are my table mates in the afore-mentioned dining room, having taken over pretty much the entire cruise ship. They called me ma’am, acted real polite, showed me their muscles and seemed really nice til I remembered they were all a bunch of trained killers.
As far as I can see, this coffee project is the only thing working in this country. It returns about $150/year to the “farmers,” a sum that actually makes them the wealthiest members of the culture (!) If they can persuade the Timorese to try the radical idea of pruning to increase yield (a more daunting task than you might imagine), NCBA may eventually raise their per capita incomes. Now, it may be that East Timor becomes what the government types call “an international basket case.” But, hey, if y’all just buy a little bit more each, these people could be helped enormously.
And if any of you are looking for a worthy cause to donate some of what Oxfam described as “roasters’ unconscionable profits”, well I know some health clinics that would surely like to meet you.
-Helen Nicholas
Sam Filiaci, the New York-born brain behind this program, has been in Indonesia for 22 years, married to the lovely Rohani, daughter of a Sulawesi chief. He speaks fluent Indonesian, and when complimented on his command of the language and the culture, he responds simply, “This is my country.” He has started numerous projects for AID in Indonesia including successful, now-privatized furniture and shrimp businesses in Java and a project to add vanilla production to East Timor. He has now turned his scarily competent mind to coffee, in Sulawesi and Sumatra as well as East Timor. In the words of Australian Brian Jordan, advisor to Xanana Gusmao, the front-runner in the new election, if Sam and “NCBA back out now, coffee is ‘stuffed.’ At the very least, quality would immediately drop.” Fortunately for us, Filiaci has no immediate plans to back out.
Sam has taken East Timor from a country that produced dry-processed, low-grade coffees to one with washed, organic specialty coffee commanding prices in the top 1% of the market. He’s opened eight health clinics for the use of the 18,000+ people in his coop, and for humanitarian reasons, everybody else as well. In spite of the clinics’ efforts, 29 children died in January and February of malnutrition. In the course of the few weeks I was there, I saw Sam deal with an evaluation team, a government audit, the airlifting of a dying employee to hospital, and threats against his personnel and equipment. His mission is to “raise incomes and standards of living,” and he maintains that focus despite the chaos all around him. It was his idea to certify the coffee as organic, a smart move for a country that produces a naturally organic product, as fertilizers and chemicals were never introduced. This extraordinary feat has been accomplished in a mere six years and in spite of a war for independence from Indonesia that has left the country literally and figuratively burned out. During the time I am there, growers are just beginning to bring in cherry to the wet mills that NCBA has built in four locations in the country. Although I hear them described as “culturally averse to work,” they seem to have worked pretty hard on this cherry, as it’s all red, ripe, and luscious looking. Sam is explaining the low prices as a function of the NY”C” and the glut of coffee from Vietnam. Some of the growers become belligerent at the low prices and threaten to burn NCBA’s trucks. For Sam, this is par for the course, no big deal, and a lot easier than the time a drunken miltiaman held him up (the gun to the head part). Not surprisingly, the growers have no concept of the NY”C”. Tellingly, they have little idea either of “Vietnam.” With elections looming in August (the UN is temporarily in charge til then), a lack of understanding of market forces fuels opposing sides of the upcoming election battle; i.e. the price of cherry is low because you’re being ripped off vs. the price of cherry is low because the “C” is down. Either way, the price of cherry is low, and a man holding his baby daughter and looking very upset is a particularly poignant sight.
Now, it should be the government’s job to explain the “C” to the people, but in East Timor there is no government. Unless you count the UN, and I wouldn’t. My favorite description called them “the failed sons of Kosovo or Burundi.” My impression was that the country is presently overrun with incompetent bureaucrats, people from places like Chad, who don’t know anything about the language (Tetung) and culture and who actually think working in Dili is pretty cool, with good pay and steady meals. They’re not looking to leave soon, and in the meantime, they’re throwing the entire economy out of whack, paying too-high prices for services, and ignoring the fact that they’ll soon be gone and the Timorese will be left once again with nothing. Their idea of a plan is to pass out chemical fertilizers to this organic coffee project. Mercifully, the farmers themselves rejected that idea, saying they don’t want any “poo-poo.” Another example of mind-boggling ineptitude is the story of CARE who gave the farmers a tractor. During the dry season, these ingenious farmers used the tractor as a generator, which for some reason pissed off the CARE people and prompted them to take back their tractor. You spend much time here and you begin to wonder what the Timorese ever did to deserve this much misfortune.
Y’all may remember that it was USAID who advised Central American coffee countries to cut down their shade trees in the mid-seventies in order to increase their yield. This led to a temporary increase in yield, a diminution of quality, loss of habitat for North American migratory birds, and an ultimate return to previous yields. Fortunately, this AID group is not planning any massive extinction programs, although they do tend to sneer at “bio-diversity.” They’re focused on improving the lives of these people, but I must say I always think that bio-diversity IS an improvement. Just driving up from smelly, malarial Dili to the sweet mountain town of Maubisse, I am struck once again by the beauty of coffee regions. The coffee here (1400-2000 mt) is shaded primarily with Casuarina trees, while the lower grown Aifu (1100-1400 mt) is shaded by 150-ft. Albizzia, a variety of Acacia that forms a lovely, lacelike canopy over this truly forest-grown coffee. These people are not so much farmers as hunter-gatherers, and the “farm” is actually a naturalized coffee forest, punctuated by thick, yellow trunk bamboo, coco palms and banana palms and interspersed with Luciana Leucosefola, a pod-bearing legume which secures nitrogen to the soil. The lower grown coffee feels like Pacific island culture, but the Maubesse feels more Himalayan, with Asian ponies and conical-roof, thatched huts. Here they process 200 MT of cherry/day in 12 fermentation tanks (donated by the U.S. government, I’m pleased to say), with an overflow capacity of 60MT and 6 more tanks. They process 5000 MT/season. The best coffee comes in in August from the highest catchment slopes. With a minimum of 40 days from picking to boat, look out for those Oct and Nov ships.
The original varieties of typica and borbon trees were planted 400 years ago by the Portuguese. When coffee rust wiped out the original trees in the 19th century, a hybrid was created of robusta and arabica, Hybrido de Timor, also referred to as “arobusta.” The Portuguese left in 1975, and 8 months later the Indonesians invaded, and as you know they only just recently left. This is where the green-turban-wearing Gurkas (the elite, British trained Nepali fighting force) and the South African helicopter mechanics come in. They, along with green berets, American marines, and lots of guys with Midwestern twangs and crewcuts, are my table mates in the afore-mentioned dining room, having taken over pretty much the entire cruise ship. They called me ma’am, acted real polite, showed me their muscles and seemed really nice til I remembered they were all a bunch of trained killers.
As far as I can see, this coffee project is the only thing working in this country. It returns about $150/year to the “farmers,” a sum that actually makes them the wealthiest members of the culture (!) If they can persuade the Timorese to try the radical idea of pruning to increase yield (a more daunting task than you might imagine), NCBA may eventually raise their per capita incomes. Now, it may be that East Timor becomes what the government types call “an international basket case.” But, hey, if y’all just buy a little bit more each, these people could be helped enormously.
And if any of you are looking for a worthy cause to donate some of what Oxfam described as “roasters’ unconscionable profits”, well I know some health clinics that would surely like to meet you.
-Helen Nicholas
# posted by royal.coffee @ 12:02 PM 
