Fair Trade alcohol: yo ho ho (but no bottle of rum)

It’s fair trade alcohol, but (sorry to disappoint you) not the drinking kind, at least not yet. Alcohol has many other uses, so when I met Carlos Cabrera in Quito, the capital of Ecuador, I was keen to find out more about how alcohol production fits into the fair trade picture. For Carlos’s organisation CRACYP, their fair trade alcohol is produced for cosmetics.

Leaving Colombia, I travelled a little of the backbone of the Andes and wound my way to Quito. It sits snugly in a scenic valley at 2,800m above sea level. Hills of varied gradients radiate outwards on all sides. I liked it immediately. The city comprises a mix of the colonial and modern, with spacious parks and boulevards giving breath to the confined, historical centre.

I met Carlos Cabrera, the General Manager of CRACYP (Rural Reforestation and Progress Network Corporation), in the tourist district. CRACYP is a non-profit organisation founded in 1999 that works with more than 200 communities (many indigenous) in the poorer regions in the south of the country. Their mission is Progreso Verde (Green Progress) that promotes sustainable, environmental development for these people. Their communities produce a diverse range of crops, not just sugarcane for alcohol. Cacao (for chocolate) and coffee are produced in-house as Fair Trade. Other initiatives include ecotourism, community banking and youth development projects. When I met Carlos in a quiet cafe one afternoon he told me more.

With CRACYP’s help, a sugarcane cooperative was formed in 2003. This cooperative, CADO, helps 280 families. Over the years training and technical development have enabled the coop to produce alcohol for many purposes, including perfumes, cosmetics and now liqueurs (surely the best part!). Clients include the Body Shop and since 2011, Dr. Bronner’s, when Fair Trade certification was obtained.

Fair Trade certification gives these communities a helping hand. And at the same time, it gives the families here a chance to maintain their way of life, producing alcohol in an environmentally and socially responsible way. But despite benefits such as higher prices and community ‘social premiums’, life is still incredibly tough for these families. Carlos told me that the current season had been one of intense rainfall, which wiped out some crops and reduced the quality of the ones that survived. The community still lacks the capacity to produce more and many children find it hard to access good educational opportunities. Fair Trade certification helps overcome these problems, but it is a long-term project that requires patience and relationship-building from North American and European clients.

Carlos is based in Quito as it is easier for him to deal with the various clients, NGOs and government groups that are part of developing and promoting the organisation. As such, he’s a busy man and our meeting was rushed. Despite looking tired, he was animated and excitable with years of knowledge and experience behind him. I only got a brief insight into the organisation, but I was grateful just for that.

My plan from Quito included visiting some of the cooperatives we talked about. But in keeping with my travel experience there were glitches ahead and I wasn’t able to make it there. So I missed out on seeing some Fair Trade alcohol first hand. Pity…by this time, I’d got used to such things. Once again, I dug my map out, tracing the road south looking for my next Fair Trade port of call.

Carlos Cabrera of CRACYP squeezed in some time with me to tell me about Fair Trade alcohol when we met at this quiet cafe in Quito
Carlos Cabrera of CRACYP squeezed in some time with me to tell me about Fair Trade alcohol when we met at this quiet cafe in Quito

Football, Ecuadorian style

Football. Best game on the planet. I’ve seen many games in England and the odd one or two in Vancouver. One thing on my list during this trip was to try to catch a live game somewhere. It proved difficult to be in the right place at the right time, but the stars eventually aligned and I got an opportunity to see a match in Quito, home of Deportivo Quito. The competition was the Copa Libertadores America (the South American equivalent of the European Champions League) and the opposition on the night was Velez Sarsfield from Argentina (I have no idea who they are either).

I hoped it would be a good game, certainly different from what I’d experienced before. And it was…from the crush of getting into the stadium, where half of it was closed and so fans had restricted points of entry and impatience reigned. We were packed into one side of the stadium, a decrepit-looking thing, though the views of the nearby mountains, with aircraft flying under the backdrop, made a stunning panorama. I was seated on bare concrete not far from the hardcore fans. The flags and banners were out, and the huge bass drums were being readied. Fencing surrounded the pitch, which was a shock. I can’t imagine fan safety was ever a priority for these occasions.

As the game was about to start, Velez got a typical away-team reception of a chorus of boos. There wasn’t a single away fan, unsurprisingly. The Quito chants were underway, the flares were lit and the drums rolled.

Into the game and I notice the differences. The pace is slow, like treacle. There’s little goalmouth action. The funniest part is when the referee, miles behind the play, books a Velez player when he made a foul. Just as I’ve seen on television many times, the ref races over and dramatically shoves the yellow card in the Velez player’s face. Hilarious. Right before the end of a desperately poor first half, a Quito player hoofs the ball downfield towards the Velez area, a real up-and-under. The Quito forward gives chase and falls inside the Velez penalty area. Diving, surely? No, the ref (again, miles behind play) agrees with the linesman’s flag to give a penalty to Quito. The fans go absolutely mad and the penalty is duly converted, 1-0. Then the flares really got going. A dozen of them. The fans chant, the drums bang louder. I’m surprised when some riot police jog onto the pitch to accompany the ref when he blows the half-time whistle.

It quietens down quickly, and the food vendors walk up and down the aisles selling their snacks. Nothing vegan, though, so I skip the offerings. I notice one young lad, shirtless, carrying a fire extinguisher, and wonder how he managed to smuggle it in. Quickly though, I spot several more lads with them. The players come out, and the extinguishers are let off in unison. Colour-coordinated in pink and blue, the air is filled with dust. The flares had already gone out, so the fire risk was minimal, and then the CO2 dust rains down on the crowd.

The chants continue but the noise erupts once again when Quito score early in the second half. It looks like they can play after all. Later I notice the ref has a paint gun to mark the ’10 yard’ distance at free kicks. He carefully marks where the ball is to be set and where the opposing players can stand. What an idea! Why don’t they use that in the Premiership?? When one of the players feigns injury (sorry, that’s my prejudice – all players in South America feign injury…) a golf cart comes on to cart the player off. Needless to say he is absolutely fine.

The game peters out, despite another goal for Quito. They win 3-0 and the crowd are happy. The chants continued throughout the rest of the game. An estimated 9,000 were there, though it was hard to tell given how empty the stadium looked on the other sides. But I didn’t care. It had been quite an experience for me and I enjoyed it, despite having to sit out in the cool mountain air. It wasn’t as good as English football, but you try telling that to the thousands of Quito fans who left the stadium, paying 10 cents to use the toilet on their way out.

Unfortunately I forgot to bring my camera, so here’s another picture of Carlos Valderrama…

Carlos Valderrama is Colombian, but you just can't beat that hairstyle