Consulting with Coffee Farmers in Eastern Uganda

In the Field

“We’re going to climb today to visit another savings group, remember?” Yes I remember, visiting farmers in the field is the best part of the week for me. The clouds look thick this morning, I am anxious and ready to move. He notices my eyes glancing towards the door, “We can’t get there before 11 AM, because the farmers are in the fields all morning,” says John. Yes, I remember this too, but all the same once the daily rains start the mountain roads are slick trenches of mud. “Good, you wore your good boots today, you will move very well,” John says appreciatively.

John is the Manager of the Buweswa Growers Cooperative Society (BGCS), located in Mufufu village. We have been working closely together since I arrived at site a fortnight ago. The BGCS property is the center point of the village, and my little colonial-era cinder block house is right on top of its hill. I can see mountainous coffee farms covered in mist from my front porch.

This will be the ninth savings group that I have visited. Our window of opportunity is narrow because the rains begin at 1 PM, or earlier. We begin trudging up the muddy road, still sticky from last night’s showers. Boda Bodas come from both directions hauling supplies going up, and people coming down. Villagers are heading to the main road several kilometers down the mountain. We reach the tiny village at the top of the mountain behind my house, about a 45 minute hike, and we keep climbing. I haven’t had a chance to really explore these high altitude villages because of the rainy season but this morning the clouds parted, and we feel the full force of the equatorial sun on our faces. Small holder farmer families have built their homesteads close to the mountain road; they tend to their various plots spaced throughout the district. We stop to greet everyone; they are all curious to hear a foreigner greet them in Lumasaaba.

After another 45 minutes of hiking, we reach the savings group who have gathered in a church building on top of an adjoining mountain. The church is missing a wall, a welcome open-air shelter. Our group of farmers are all very much at home, calmly looking over the coffee farms and mountain vistas, comfortable in the cool mist. “Let the meeting commence.” 



I Will Ride About

Morning in Antsirabe

I have to ride about ½ hour to get out of the city then I’m riding through little towns, suburbs really, maneuvering my place on the road with semi-trailer trucks, taxi brousses, scooters, and motor bikes. There are some dirt road offshoots that I can explore. Muddy and deeply rutted paths. I’m saving those for when I’m brave or have time to get lost.


Most mornings, if I leave early enough, I greet the goat herder who allows his few animals to munch on the green grass lining our lane. Later in the day the goats will be replaced by street mothers asking for money, always in French.

Skinny cows pull their carts in belching traffic, sometimes the equally skinny farmer will hop out to guide them, whip in hand. Supplying the city of meat isn’t hidden in large regional packing houses, it is front and center of daily life.

Cycling in Antsirabe is not that different than Denver. I would dodge traffic and angry truck drivers there too. Though I reap new rewards here, all types of vendors line the road ranging from fresh vegetables and fruits to bicycle repair to used clothing.


sunrise in Antsirabe


Reboot, Restart, shortest reflection ever

Zambia, May 2022

Anyone else ever feel as if they need to restart life?

I thought it would be easy to do but instead it’s a lesson of forgetting old systems and just letting space be.

Beliefs are squashed

Identity questioned

Certainties lost

Lesson learnt

A life path suddenly drops from sight and the next step may ultimately lead to a long uncomfortable freefall.

South Luangwa Zambia

Himba Village in the Kunene Region

Archive Alert

I recently completed a school report regarding the impacts that prolonged drought events are having on the HImba in the Kunene Region. My photographs were taken in 2018 and the drought had continued since then through 2020 with predictions for unpredictable weather patterns to continue in the region at large.

I enjoyed my visit and learning about some of the cultural traditions that the Himba live by. It is humbling how well they have adapted to living in this arid environment for generations.