Day 9 - Coffee region of Daga

So, I finally reached the villages where coffee trees grow. After yesterday’s emotional and crazy trek, today was relatively calm in Gwirot.

Ahh and one note from yesterday which I forgot to share—on our arrival in Gwirot, I was surprised to have a dinner that felt very much like home in Estonia: boiled potatoes, pork stew, tomato-onion salad, and sliced cucumbers. At the other end of the world, some things are not so different after all!

After breakfast, it was time for the official welcome ceremony. The majority of the village—more than 200 people—had gathered to greet me. There were speeches, performances, and a deep dive into history, struggles, hopes, and the future. The whole event lasted almost two hours. In my speech, I expressed my deep respect for their resilience—how they have kept their communities going despite what, to me, seem like almost insurmountable challenges. I also spoke about coffee and how we can hopefully help them find a market for it.

I believe that almost anyone can achieve almost anything if three conditions are met:

1. You have a goal that you truly believe in and that motivates you.

2. You keep working toward that goal, despite the challenges and setbacks you will inevitably face.

3. You have a support system—people who guide, advise, and help you.

The first two conditions are up to the people of Daga, if it is their coffee they want to share with the world. But they’ve never really had anyone from the outside who genuinely cares and is willing to work together with them. Maybe that’s where we come in...

Later, we walked through the coffee gardens—though they are more like a jungle at this point. It’s hard to find a well-maintained coffee tree. According to Gray and Leroy, there are about 60,000 coffee trees in the communities around Gwirot. 60% of them have been abandoned, and most do not bear fruit due to a lack of light and pruning. Of the remaining 40% that do produce cherries, only about half are harvested. The reason is simple: farmers don’t get paid for their coffee because the cooperatives can’t sell the beans. They lack the funds to organize transport from Daga to the milling factories in Lae. No money means no motivation to care for the trees.

Thinking about our journey in Georgia, I don’t expect an easy path ahead here either. Instead of putting too much effort into rehabilitating old trees, the first priority should be getting the existing harvest to market. That’s what we’ll focus on in 2025. If things start moving, farmers will be more motivated to tend to their gardens again. Gray and Leroy have also launched a couple of small nursery projects with a few thousand new coffee trees. In some cases, it might make more sense to plant new trees rather than try to revive old ones.

And to finish, a few interesting observations:

• In the villages where I’ve stayed longer, the school director—called the "head teacher" here—seems to be the main leader, almost like a mayor. He organizes events, gives speeches, and plays a central role in the community. Given that schools are often the only public institutions here, it makes sense.

• There are many different versions of how many foreigners have visited Daga before me - 1, 3, 5, the most I have heard is 9. But two things seem to be consistent across all stories—I’m the first from Europe and the first who isn’t here for religious activities. Small children seem especially fascinated by me. They just stare for minutes, probably realizing for the first time that there’s more than one race on Earth 

• It’s not customary here to call men by their first names (except within the family). Instead, they are addressed through the name of their firstborn child. So here, I am "Helin’s father." But Gray thinks it won’t be long before someone names their newborn son Hannes. 

Hannes