The First Hours: Santiago Ft. Camille
I have found that this intention to tell stories of the people I meet has manifested quite effortlessly. Within the first few hours of my time in Santiago, I have already met some incredible souls.
A quick review on my time in Santiago up until the point of writing this:
Running on two hours of shitty airplane sleep, I found myself half asleep, but somehow wide awake as I walked the quiet Sunday streets of Bellavista Barrio in Santiago, Chile. It reminds me of Los Angeles-a city bustling with cyclists and joggers at the edges of a desert and just a hillside away from the sea. It is arid and warm. I arrived at my quaint hostel- Eco-Hostel Tambo Verde to find the sweetest hostess and a sleepy cat. This place feels like an extension of myself. Behind its modest red walls lies a tiny bohemian sanctuary. Books line the light wooden shelves and green wooden chairs line the tables set with clay eatery.
Not able to check in for a few hours, I wandered the streets, desperately in need of food. I walked through multiple parks filled with families and people practicing taekwon-do, and found myself at a hole in the wall coffee shop called Original Green Coffee where Camille made me a glorious cortado with excellent microfoam (for my coffee people out who may or may not be reading this), and a much needed omelette. I journaled while there. I wrote. “As the plane began its decent into Santiago, I felt the jitters and was asking myself things like: What am I doing? Can I even do this? Can I travel alone for months? What if this happens? My first few hours here have whispered all is well, TODO ESTA BIEN!”
Just after I put my pen down, I ran into a lady from my flight. We chatted for a few minutes in which I told her “I want to get better at speaking Spanish.” Camille, working her barista magic behind the coffee bar chimed in.
“I want to practice my English. We can help each other.” We talked for another hour or so, me with my terrible Spanish, and her with her impressive English. She offered to show me around Santiago whilst we practice our “second languages.”
I, of course, said HELL YES. This woman, who knew me for all of one hour, offered to take time out of her day to show a foreigner around her city. How often does this happen I the states?
So this leads me to Camille:
Camille is not just a barista. She is a coffee QUEEN. Her knowledge of the coffee world is extensive and her passion for coffee shines through her. She is also a photographer and videographer, a graphic designer, an anime lover, and a former kpop-style dancer.
She has a vision for the future of coffee and we talked extensively about the possibilities out there to create a more sustainable, just, and equitable chain of coffee production. She wants to figure out a way to connect farmers throughout South America to shops within and outside of South America in a way that is conducive to both shop owner and farmer.
She tells me that there is a broken chain (cadena rota). The disconnect begins, she believes, because of a language barrier. A lot of shop owners want to buy beans directly from the source, but often, only the farmers who are able to speak multiple languages are able to maintain relationships with buyers. This is why, there are often multiple brands and shops buying coffee from the same co-op of farms. I hadn’t thought of this before, even though it makes SO much sense. With the amount of coffee farms that are producing, or can produce, beans and the amount of coffee shops still popping up in cities around the world, there should be enough business for all parties to benefit.
I met Camille in the park around the corner from her coffee shop. She biked up to the bench I was sitting on, in the shade of a plantanus orientalis tree in Parque Forestal, on the outskirts of Bellavista. The sun glinted from her glasses, her blue helmet slanted slightly atop her head, her bleached bangs poking out on her forehead, her face cloaked in a wide grin. She was breathing heavily in the heat. It was 80 degrees (more like 87 with that southern hemisphere sun radiating).
“You know there are like four parks around here, no? I didn’t know which one.” She was still smiling.
“Ahhh. Lo siento!” I replied dumbly. After a few days navigating Santiago, I now know what she meant. Parks sprawling hundreds of blocks line the highways in this area of the city.
Camille just returned to her home-town of Santiago after spending two years in Cork, Ireland where she spent her time learning English and working at a local coffee shop. She told me that during this time she learned that there are many things she loves about her country and many things she wishes were different.
“South Americans are so together.” She talks with her hands and brings her two hands towards each other. “We do everything together. Every activity is with our family or with others. I realized I like to do some things alone. But, one thing I like about us is we [South Americans] are always trying to find the solution, we aren’t waiting for someone to do it for us, like in western places.”
She came away from her western coffee shop experience with an even deeper sense of purpose, as she realized just how essential it is to reconnect shop owners to coffee farmers and repair la cadena rota. After spending an afternoon with her, I have a strong inking that she will accomplish what she sets out to do. She doesn’t seem to be easily dismayed.
