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C

My siblings and I often lament how difficult it must
have been for our parents to raise seven children. But
when we were children, we never realized this. They had
nothing, yet they gave us a happy childhood and let us
have everything. My father was the richest man in the
world, even though he didn’t have much wealth.
However, Mediomundo no longer existed. We spent
less days on the farm, and could only look forward to the
holidays to meet up with cousins there. We all grew up,
having our own friends, our classmates and neighbors.
We left the farm and the coffee and moved to the city.
Dear Coffee, we will see you again.

*
Lucía had not had contact with coffee for years.
Living in Pereira, she was immersed in the world of design
and dressmaking, and won recognition for her work. She
got married, had three children and led a quiet life. But
she felt something was missing.
They had lost the farm for family reunion. Dozens
of family members barely contacted each other, and the
scenes of gathering together to bake and tell stories
seemed to have disappeared forever. Everyone once knew
they were a family, but their expansion in Pereira has
somewhat swallowed up the family memories. The big city
belonged to everyone and also no one; the city was a
prisoner of solitude. The fate of the farm was the same.
Given the rising land cost, the corrupt, the fraudulent or
the rich built leisure villas on their estates. The peasant
tradition of cultivating the land disappeared into oblivion.
One day, Lucía went to visit her father and talked to
him about the emptiness she had felt when he was ill. They
talked about the happy years in Mediomundo and the
coffee they had at home every morning. They recalled the
dreams of their siblings that had come true there. For
Lucía, her father was a romanticist with nothing and al-
ways a smile on his face. With tears in her eyes, she said
goodbye to her father and closed the door. She made her
decision before walking across the street to her car.
*
I didn’t hesitate to quit my job. It wasn’t that I was
sick of the textile industry; in fact, I was doing well and
even teaching at a university. I needed more, and that was
That farm was as big as half a block big, the only thing I was sure of. My husband was supportive
and did his best. Then I spent some of my savings to buy
and maybe that’s why it was called a farm. I wanted my farm, my Mediomundo, though it
sounds quite pretentious.
I knew my older brother and second brother had the
Mediomundo (meaning half of the world). same idea. They miss that world and both of them are big
For me, it was the whole universe. coffee lovers. How could you not grow coffee in such a
beautiful coffee region?

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