Oxapampa might have the best Peruvian coffee, but like the town itself, the dark roast is used to being overlooked. This region has always been a country apart. German settlers first established the town of Pozuzo in 1851, and architecture resembles 19th-century Prussia.
The pioneers became cattle ranchers and coffee farmers. For this reason you’ll spot Oxapampinos in cowboy hats and leather boots, another way the region sets itself apart. For a while, the mother country was more tightly tied to Oxapampa than was Peru. To Spanish descendents in Lima, Oxapampa was just another part of the interior, another backwater rural province.
But now Oxapampa is en vogue. The cool kids know all about the annual music festival selvamanos, and the perfect weather attracts Peruvians from all over. The history of the area is an attraction, too. There are stories of tourists arriving in “Oxa” and asking for the gringos; they come to see the white people with blue eyes and blonde hair, farming in the middle of the country.
We were going to see Janina’s family for the first time since our marriage. It was going to include a ceremony to renew our vows, a second wedding since they did not make it to the one in the USA. I was excited to meet my in-laws. But I was just as excited to go back to the Central Jungle.
The Wild West of Peru
Arriving To Oxa
Peruvians hate open windows. Our 10-hr bus ride came with a bonus hour of traffic and bickering over whether we could open one window after leaving Lima. We lost the argument and steamed like potatoes in the stale air on the overnight route.
So it was just another bus ride in Peru.
Fortunately Oxapampa has epic breakfasts. Fresh milk, tamales, cecina bacon, bread, cocona jelly, and local coffee awaited us. We ate in jeans and t-shirts inside an open-air cafeteria built from logs. Maybe it was the dry heat and wooden buildings, but “Oxa” felt like the Wild West at that moment. Clouds rolled over green hills, lazily brushed away by the morning heat.
Consuming Our Way Through The Central Jungle
It was a day of food. Janina’s grandmother prepared a traditional Pachamanca for lunch. Pachamanca is slow-cooked meat, potatoes, and tamal with Peruvian spices. The specific ingredients change according to the landscape. In Oxapampa they use pork.
And nothing beats slow-cooked pork.
Then the family showed me their homes. Years ago the gigantic estate was divided up equally among siblings. Each owns an entire transect, from the road to the top of the hill. The Hassingers were original settlers in Oxapampa. Today their descendents still harvest the fruit and coffee plants that flourish in the tropics, and most have pigs or chickens, too.
Afterwards we had a few free days. The first thing I wanted to try was the sauna. Now, rural Peru is not known for saunas. But Janina’s cousin mentioned a “sauna rustica” that only cost S/ 5, and I was hooked. That’s UNDER 2 DOLLARS.
She said it was 10 minutes away by foot. So on a whim I forced along my mother and Janina’s family to a small farm across the bridge under a slightly sweltering sun. Naturally the walk was 30 minutes long.
Upon arrival, we realized “rustica” was not an exaggeration. It was a sauna in the loosest sense of the word. Really, it was a man-sized adobe box with a hole to stick out one’s head. Steam flowed through a tube into the structure. On the other side of the tube was a pot full of herbs and water, sitting over an open fire.
I opened the tiny door, stood up, and poked my head out. Steam started to flow into the sauna. It was a bit warm, and the smoke from the fire made it uncomfortable to breathe.
“Rustica”
Nobody else volunteered after Janina and me. But we were the most exfoliated people at the church that evening.
The ceremony was short and sweet. The priest found it funny that we were renewing our vows after one year of marriage. Since he didn’t know us, that was pretty much all he talked about.
The last morning of the trip involved a cave, a cheese factory, and a distillery. Thankfully, the last two had free samples. Sugar cane liquor was too good to pass up, and we shared a half liter after the freebies finished. A nun, who came with a busload of chaotic children, was in front of us in line. Their chaperone, apparently.
“I’ll take a double,” she told the bartender.
Preparing The Best Peruvian Coffee
After lunch, held at the abuelita’s, we prepared coffee. Janina and her aunt showed me the process. First, you pick the berries when they are ripe. Then, you process the berries through a machine that turns them into pulp and spits out the white seeds, which are the actual coffee beans. The pulp is sweet and people make jelly with it. After the seeds dry on a tin roof for some days, you roast them over fire and finish the job with a manual coffee grinder.
We were slowly lumbering because of the lunch and liquor. But the earthy roast of our final product jump started everyone. It was the best Peruvian coffee I’ve had.
Certainly there is no fresher coffee experience. And there was no need to go to the store for a filter, much less cream and sugar. One provides for themselves in this part of the interior. Janina’s family gave us a 10lb bag of coffee beans. I didn’t know at the time that this bag would begin my coffee obsession.
The Struggle to Smuggle
I wanted that 10 pounds of coffee. It was the best Peruvian coffee I had tried. But I wasn’t convinced that a giant unmarked plastic bag filled with an agricultural product would pass through US customs.
So I got creative. First, I went to a cafe in Lima and asked for empty coffee bags, which would seem more legit to a customs agent. But the barista wanted to charge more than the coffee itself would have cost. Once again, the precio gringo was screwing me over.
Then I tried to find a marker and a non-transparent bag, thinking if I wrote “cafe” on the side, it would be better. But that seemed sketchier than just carrying the unmarked, see-through bag.
Soon enough I ran out of time and stuffed the giant bag into my duffel before hailing a taxi to the airport. The coffee was on my mind the entire flight to Miami. When I arrived, I was directed to a customs official since I indicated that I had an agricultural product.
“And what are you bringing from Peru?”
“Coffee”
The agent waved me by with the same expression that horses have when they wave flies away with their tails. Of course, Janina’s family never worried about the coffee not getting through customs. In Peru’s Wild West, one goes by their own rules.
Delicious German beer Restaurants offer German inspired dishes in Oxapampa Cool carriage outside our hotel room Log cabin in Oxapampa
Conclusion
Oxapampa is one of my favorite places of all time. The weather, food, and experiences are incredibly unique and awesome.
If you’re interested in visiting Oxapampa and the Central Jungle, check out my Central Peru Adventure Guide. Or this off-the-beaten-path Peru itinerary, which includes the Central Jungle.
And if you’re too excited to wait to try the best Peruvian coffee, your best bet is organic coffee from nearby Chanchamayo. You can find this online or a local supermarket.
Leave a comment below if you love coffee or want to visit Oxapampa :)
