Guatemala Origin Trip 2026

First and foremost, I am extremely grateful to have had this opportunity to go on an origin trip. To see what we preach firsthand was incredible. I have worked with Bird Rock Coffee Roasters since 2012 in many different facets over the years, and my current position is marketing coordinator / photographer. Much of what I do is tell the stories connecting our customers with the places of origin we purchase coffee from. So being there, and really immersing myself in it all, is something I don’t take for granted.

I think what people don’t understand, or can’t fully understand, is how many vital hands play a part in your final cup.

Let me expand on that a little more.

The care and thought that is put into coffee before it even leaves the country is something you have to see to believe. From the seeds that are thoughtfully planted, to irrigation schedules, pruning, and even planting other crops like corn and beans alongside coffee trees to provide shade and nutrients. From selectively picking only the ripe cherries, leaving the others to mature, to wet milling, drying, resting, and eventually milling again before export…every step matters.

Watching it all unfold, I kept thinking: this is a well-oiled machine. But not in the way we think of machines. It’s not over-automated or sterile. It’s human. It’s generational knowledge. It’s people who have done this for years, sometimes their entire lives, moving with intention and precision. Of course there are tools and some machinery, but the backbone of coffee at origin is still people. And it works.

At Finca El Socorro, Juan Diego walked us through his farm, 700 hectares of land, with about 175 planted in coffee and the rest protected forest. He knew every inch of it. Every variety. Every plot. You could point in any direction and he’d tell you what was growing there, how it was performing, and what challenges it faced. It was honestly mind-blowing.

The farm itself is split by a river, creating two completely different microclimates. Same farm, totally different growing conditions. It’s a reminder that coffee isn’t just country-specific, it’s hyper-local. Tiny shifts in elevation, water, or sunlight can completely change the outcome in your cup.

At the wet mill, we watched workers unload bags of freshly picked cherries. Each bag marked carefully so they could track exactly who picked what. Again, intentional, detailed, human. You might think at first there has to be a “better” way. But then you realize, it’s what works for them. And "if it's not broke, don't fix it!"

But as beautiful and inspiring as all of this is, there’s also a reality that can’t be ignored.

One of the biggest challenges right now is labor.

Finding workers is becoming increasingly difficult. Not just at El Socorro, but across farms in Guatemala. Coffee picking is hard, physical work, and fewer people want to do it. Many are leaving for opportunities in the city, especially construction jobs, or migrating to the United States for work. And when workers leave, it creates a ripple effect.

At one point, we learned that farms often rely on traveling pickers, people who move from farm to farm during harvest season. But when harvests are delayed, like this year, those workers are still finishing up at other farms and can’t make it in time. The result? Coffee cherries ripening faster than they can be picked.

This year, the goal was to have about 70% of the harvest completed by a certain point, but they were only at 35%. And when cherries overripen, quality can suffer.

There are even layers to labor that most of us would never think about, like needing a cook to accompany the picking crews. No cook? No workers. It’s all interconnected.

Even improvements, like better roads, have unintended consequences. While they increase accessibility and are great for the community, they also make it easier for people to leave farm work for jobs in the city.

At the same time, farms are trying to adapt. Investing in things like mechanical dryers, solar panels, and tractors to reduce reliance on labor. But those investments take time, money, and infrastructure, and they don’t replace the human element entirely.

It made me realize that every cup of coffee is not just the result of careful farming. It’s also shaped by economic realities, migration patterns, and global labor shifts.

And then there’s the unpredictability of nature.

“Every year is different,” Juan Diego told us.

A frost earlier in the season had led to smaller cherries. Less volume. Less to sell. Other years it’s too much rain, or too much heat during drying that can damage the coffee. There’s no perfect formula. It’s a constant adaptation.

“Shit happens in the tropics,” he said, half joking, but also not.

And yet, despite all of that, the level of care never wavers.

Another stop on our trip was Santa Ana, where we spent time with Nando. While many of the same principles were present, care, attention to detail, and a deep understanding of the land, this visit highlighted another side of coffee production: innovation.

One of the things I found most interesting was learning about co-ferments and infused coffees. These terms often get lumped together, but they’re not the same thing. Nando explained that some of the processing methods they’re experimenting with, like a pineapple process, aren’t about making the coffee taste like pineapple. Instead, the fruit is used as part of the fermentation environment, influencing the microbial activity and ultimately affecting the cup profile. The goal isn’t to create an artificial flavor, but to guide fermentation in a way that brings out different characteristics in the coffee itself.

Water was another major topic of conversation. Irrigation is relatively new for Nando, and seeing the scale of it all was eye-opening. Their new irrigation system can deliver roughly 20,000 liters of water to 5,000 coffee plants twice a week. But it isn’t just about water—it’s also about nutrition. They’re currently experimenting with mixing nutrients into the irrigation system, allowing them to feed and support the trees more efficiently.

What stood out to me was how carefully every water source is managed. The house and the wet mill even pull water from different creeks, creating separate systems for different needs around the farm. Every resource is considered and accounted for.

Walking through the drying patios, I noticed sections covered with coffee in different colors. At first, I thought it was simply different lots, but Nando explained that many of them represented different fermentation approaches. Some coffees had spent additional days in fermentation tanks before being dried, creating subtle differences in flavor and character.

Seeing rows of coffee drying side by side, each the result of a slightly different process, was a reminder that coffee is part agriculture, part science experiment, and part art form.

It’s easy to think of coffee as a finished product when it reaches our cafes, but standing there on the patio, surrounded by coffees at different stages of development, I was reminded that the pursuit of quality never stops. Farmers like Nando are constantly learning, testing, adjusting, and refining, all in an effort to produce the best coffee possible.

One thing this trip taught me is that coffee's journey doesn't stop at the farm.

After spending time with producers like Juan Diego and Nando, seeing the planting, picking, processing, and drying, it would be easy to think the coffee is ready to go. But there's another critical step in the journey that most people never hear about: the dry mill.

The dry mill might be one of the most important, and least talked about, parts of the coffee supply chain.

While in Guatemala we visited Servex and toured the dry mill with Genaro and Serben. 

We saw where coffee is stored, rested, sorted, milled, and ultimately prepared for export. We learned that many lots sit for two to three months before being milled, allowing the coffee to settle and stabilize. In many cases, coffee isn't milled until there's an order ready for it.

What struck me most was how intentional the entire operation was. Every lot is carefully managed, every movement tracked, and every step focused on preserving quality.

And just like at the farms, very little goes to waste. Coffee pulp can be turned into cascara, husks are repurposed for fuel, and even lower-grade coffee finds a purpose. Every part of the coffee cherry has value.

Standing there, it reinforced something I'd been thinking throughout the entire trip: coffee is truly a chain of people, processes, and decisions. The dry mill is another vital link that most consumers never see, but one that plays a huge role in ensuring quality all the way to the final cup.

By the time a bag of green coffee arrives at Bird Rock, countless hands have already cared for it, improved it, protected it, and prepared it for its next chapter.

Bringing It All Home

What struck me most throughout this trip was that coffee exists in this fascinating space between tradition and innovation.

At El Socorro, I saw generations of knowledge, systems, and people working together to produce incredible coffee despite challenges ranging from labor shortages to unpredictable weather. At Santa Ana, I saw that same dedication applied through experimentation, new processing methods, and evolving farming practices.

Different farms. Different approaches. The same commitment to quality.

By the time coffee reaches a barista, or your kitchen, so many hands have touched it. So many decisions have been made. So much care has been taken.

And that responsibility passes on to us.

How we brew it. The water we use. The attention we give it.

Because this isn’t just coffee. It’s people. It’s time. It’s effort. It’s livelihoods.

Being there made that real in a way I’ll never forget.