Picking coffee beans for Starbucks a family tradition

SAN JOSÉ PROVINCE, Costa Rica — Roberto Naranjo and his wife, Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo, shake their heads when they remember life during the coffee crisis in the late 1990s.

The Naranjos had to choose between buying farming equipment and paying workers. They had to choose between maintaining their land and buying fertilizer. And debt mounted.

Then Starbucks arrived in the 2000s, and began buying coffee from the cooperative the Naranjos belong to — CoopeTarrazú — and life improved.

Walking through the tiers of land burrowed in the steep hillsides full of coffee plants, the Naranjos talk about the importance of the Seattle company buying coffee from them. "We were able to buy new machinery, maintain the trucks," Roberto Naranjo says. "It helped out."

Starbucks' multiyear contracts brought a secure source of revenue to the cooperative, Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo says. For the Naranjos, Starbucks' arrival meant climbing out of debt.

"One can sleep in peace with no debt to the bank," Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo says.

Poster co-op for Starbucks

The Naranjos own about 25 acres outside of San Marcos de Tarrazú, a small town about an hour south of Costa Rica's capital San José.

The town is in the middle of Los Angeles Valley, an area where mountains are accented with dramatic, steep edges — and coffee grows well. Historically, the dry red land in this valley has produced some of Costa Rica's best coffee. Tarrazú, the name given to the area around the valley, has become a brand for gourmet coffee.

The headquarters of CoopeTarrazú are in San Marcos. It's the second largest co-op in Costa Rica with more than 2,300 active members who own more than 29,600 acres.

The co-op has become one of Starbucks' main suppliers in Costa Rica with sales exceeding 6 million pounds, almost half of its 14.4 million pounds of beans. "Everything you see there," Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo says as she pointed to hundreds of coffee plants on the hillsides, "a lot of people live from it."

Much of the money from coffee sales goes back to the community. The co-op provides myriad services, including a credit union, gas station, grocery store and farming-supplies depot.

Starbucks' relationship with CoopeTarrazú has gone so well that it has offered consumers a trip to the co-op in a contest with the Earthwatch Institute, an organization that promotes sustainability. And the man who will lead Starbucks' farm-support centers in Africa visited in December.

Changes difficult for farmers

Under general manager Carlos Rivera's watch, CoopeTarrazú launched a program to certify all its farmers under Café Practices, the environmental and social-standards program Starbucks introduced in 2003.

"My priority was to keep Starbucks with us," he says. Rivera did not want to risk losing his biggest client.

CoopeTarrazú began negotiations with Starbucks in 2000, and Café Practices (Coffee and Farmer Equity Practices) was implemented in 2005. It was no easy task, trying to persuade its members to submit to a program from a foreign entity.

"The cultural change was the most difficult aspect," says Ricardo Zúñiga, chief agronomist for CoopeTarrazú. "The economic aspect was the other."

The co-op spends more than $200,000 a year to ensure members follow Café Practices standards. Farmers were given oversized binders with all the guidelines and co-op meetings were called.

In two years, CoopeTarrazú managed to get all their members under the program. So impressed was Starbucks that top executives visited the co-op.

The changes pushed by Starbucks have benefited those involved, including the field workers. The majority of field hands at working in CoopeTarrazú farms are either Nicaraguan immigrants or Indians from the Ngöbe Buglé tribe of western Panama.

Encouraged by Starbucks, attitudes toward them are changing. No housing used to be provided to the indigenous, with many of them sleeping in the town's central park, Zúñiga says.

"It used to be thought that Indians could live in any conditions," Zúñiga says. "Now, they are seen as humans."

Farmers provide workers potable water and other basic needs although, it's a work-in-progress with some housing nothing more than shacks.

Next generation

Like ants carrying food to the hill, farmers one by one begin to drop off their days picking at main mill at CoopeTarrazú in the late afternoon.

Most of the farmers arrive in old Toyota Land Cruisers with modified cabs for easier unloading.

They come in families, kids peeking out of the passenger windows.

"Harvest is a celebration — a family celebration," Zúñiga says.

The Naranjos are one of those families. Roberto Naranjo picks coffee side-by-side with the indigenous workers he hires. Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo and their two kids help out, too.

Their youngest, Martin, has taken an interest in coffee. His freckled face turns serious when coffee is the subject. He shows off his knowledge, talking about how roots prevent erosion, as he pulls a plant from the ground.

Victoria Zúñiga-Naranjo looks on as Martin goes on about the types of plants on the farm.

Zúñiga, the agronomist, notices the 12-year-old's enthusiasm.

"That's the best heritage one can give to a kid — a love for coffee," he says.