The café buzzed with the scent of fresh grounds, but the La Marzocco Strada loomed before Raúl Rafael Artigas Perozo—an untouchable steel god. He wasn’t a barista, just the pastry guy, mesmerized as latte art swirled into cups. How did milk bend like that? He clutched the chipped mug his mother gave him in Venezuela, a quiet promise to find out. Eight years later, that curiosity would haul him from a small café to a famous Colombian roastery. Back then, he only felt the itch.
Breaking Rules, Chasing Dreams
In 2017, Raúl started at Cuppa Café, stuck behind the pastry counter while his eyes tracked the espresso machine. His colleagues smirked. “Learn to drink coffee first,” they said, “then we’ll teach you.” Specialty brews hit him like a punch—too sharp, too strange—but he gritted through. Six months later, he filled his chipped mug with a cup he could finally savor.
The café owner’s rule stung: only baristas touch the machine. Still, Raúl hovered, peppered questions, stole moments to steam milk. It wasn’t enough. He quit, hunger clawing at him for more. His coworkers gave him a parting gift—a crash course, one week of everything they knew. At his next gig, fate cracked open a door: a barista bolted, and the manager barked, “Who can run this thing?”
Raúl’s pulse hammered. “I can,” he lied, stepping up. That first week, his hands shook over the steam wand, but his mentor’s words anchored him: “What’s well learned sticks forever.” Soon, the machine bowed to him.
Leaving Home, Clinging to Hope
In 2018, Raúl abandoned Venezuela for Colombia, betting on a coffee future. Reality hit like cold rain. Barista jobs slipped away; instead, he pedaled deliveries, stacked shelves, scrubbed dishes—each gig gnawing at his dream until he wondered if he’d lost it all. The chipped mug sat on his shelf, a fading echo of home.
Desperate to reconnect with his passion, he took a weekend to visit a coffee farm in the Colombian highlands. Standing among the rows of coffee plants, feeling the earth under his boots and hearing farmers’ stories of their beans, he found his spark again. It was his first real glimpse into where coffee begins—and it reignited his resolve.
Then a friend mentioned Tropicalia Coffee. Raúl fired off his résumé and waited, hope curdling into doubt. He took a bicycle shop job to survive. Then, a call: “We’d like to see you.”
The interview was chaos—two seasoned baristas, one an Aeropress champ, against Raúl’s grit and zero credentials.
“I’ve got no certificates, but I learn fast. I’ll give everything.”
Days crawled. Thursday, 6:00 AM, his phone jolted him awake.
“Raúl, you’re in.”
“Why me?” he stammered. The manager chuckled. “The owner liked you—the woman who made you repeat yourself. She said, ‘Experience trumps paper. And he’s honest.’”
From Barista to Roaster: Fear to Fire
At Tropicalia, Raúl thrived—filter coffee, bar work, smiles for customers. Nine months in, he faced his boss. “Can I roast?” The question hung heavy. Roasting was a beast—precise, punishing. His first time at the roaster, panic gripped him. What if I torch it? The beans, the cost, the trust—it crushed him.
He pushed anyway. Curves, heat, timing—he wrestled it daily, fear melting into skill. That farm visit lingered in his mind, guiding him to honor each bean’s story through his roasts. Now, he chases the perfect roast, filling his chipped mug with each victory, a ritual tying him to where he began. Over the years, he’s discovered an incredible passion for crafting unique profiles for each coffee, ensuring every bean’s story shines through in the cup.
A Hard-Earned Truth
Three years at Tropicalia, and Raúl’s come far—from a wide-eyed Venezuelan café hand to a Colombian roaster. He’s proof passion and stubbornness crack doors wide. Reflecting on his journey, he says,
“Never give up. I’ve climbed step by step, meeting amazing people who’ve helped me grow. If you have the chance and feel it in your heart, dive into the world of roasting. You’ll find the greatest joy in coffee—especially in discovering the perfect curve for each bean.”
He grins.
“Visiting a coffee farm in Colombia has been my greatest adventure. Stand there, feel the earth, and hear the beans whisper their story. It’s where mine turned real.”
What’s Your Coffee Story?
