Tucked into the steep green folds of Bolivia’s Caranavi region, Mery Avircata’s tiny two-hectare farm, El Porvenir (“the future”), looks almost hidden. A narrow mountain path leads to her modest wooden house, surrounded by cacao and coffee trees that seem to grow straight out of the clay-loam hillsides. Jaguars still roam these forests, and mist rolls through daily. It’s a place that feels both wild and watchful.
Mery is new to coffee, though not to cultivation. After years managing cacao production in the lower Amazon, she brought that same precision and patience upslope to Kantutani, where she planted her first Icatu and Gesha trees. Icatu, a hybrid known for its resilience and sweetness, forms the structure of the cup, while the Gesha adds lightness and floral complexity. The pairing is uncommon but deliberate, and a great example of how a thoughtful farmer can build balance directly into the landscape.
Her process mirrors that blend of control and curiosity. After hand-picking at full ripeness, she ferments the coffee in limited-oxygen bags for 24 hours, a semi-anaerobic approach that coaxes out clarity while keeping acidity soft. The result is a cup that feels composed but alive, the flavor shaped as much by careful intent as by the mountain air itself.
While Gesha is best known for its ethereal florals and honeyed clarity, Mery’s take shows a wilder side. The jasmine remains, but it’s joined by chamomile, lemon balm, and a soft caramel finish — flavors grounded by Bolivia’s jungle climate and her experimental process. It feels like Gesha seen through Bolivian forest light, proof that even the most celebrated variety still has room to surprise.
El Porvenir reminds us that excellence can emerge from the most unassuming places. In a landscape that still feels untamed, Mery’s work captures the balance between nature’s chance and human care, showing how “the future” can taste both familiar and entirely new.
