There is chocolate in my head and in my mouth. The last remaining corner of a bar
I made last week from the last remaining slab of chocolate my friend Alan made last year (in Missouri of all places) from cacao he bought from a farmer who works hard for his efforts and is paid just okay for the pods he grows.
But it isn’t usually that way.
The chocolate chips and candy bars and cake mixes and chocolate you eat every day are not bought from a farmer who is paid just okay for the pods he grows, they are not purchased by a chocolate maker (like Alan) who loves every bit of chocolate he makes like he loves his family and his wife, they are not made into beautiful rare Peruvian bars by chocolatiers like myself, and they do not end up in my mouth, but perhaps in my head.
That farmer is paid near to nothing.
When you buy that chocolate cheap, spend your hard-earned money (and that money IS hard-earned), that hard-earned money pays for movie placements and advertising firms and lobbyists and investors and a little goes to the hard-working people who actually make stuff in that big company and more goes to the brokers who buy the chocolate at discount rates from the farmers who make
Fifty cents a day? A dollar a day? A few dollars if they’re really good and really savvy and know how to sell their stuff? Nothing, near enough. Why can I eat chocolate when the farmer can’t eat anything? “WHO SAID LIFE IS FAIR?”
I say life is fair, because we have a hand in making that life and we can make it fair.
I say buy from chocolate makers who buy from farmers who can afford to feed their families.
I say “you think a $10 chocolate bar is expensive? A $15 chocolate bar is expensive?” For the farmer who makes fifty cents a day that bar is cheap.
The chocolate in my mouth is a memory, and the chocolate in my head is still there. Soon, I will be in Guatemala and Honduras with my friends (and farmers) Jorge and Hugo, and I will bring them back to you in my head, and you will meet my farmers, friends, and you will understand.