Kapi
One of the things I always try to remind people is this: the beans you brew every morning didn’t “just grow on trees.” Okay, yes—it did grow on a tree, but you get what I mean! Every cup of coffee carries with it months of care, labor, and practices rooted in generations of tradition.
In the Cordillera, where coffee is both livelihood and heritage, farmers take coffee rearing to heart. If the term sounds new to you, think of it this way: it’s never “just farming”—it’s the patient, careful process and cultivation of coffee trees until they are ready to bear fruit. From choosing seeds and preparing the land, to pruning, caring, and finally harvesting, every step requires dedication and careful management. For farmers, rearing coffee is like looking after something precious.
When you talk to farmers, you often hear them say, “Coffee is like gold.” And while that’s true, the reality is that this gold doesn’t come easy. The labor cost to produce coffee is very high—everything I’ve mentioned, from soil preparation to harvest, comes with both effort and expense. Usually, about 50% of the gross income earned from coffee goes to labor costs and other expenditures.
And when the harvest finally arrives, it is valued much like gold—hard-earned, treasured, and deeply meaningful. It not only sustains culture and tradition, but also helps support livelihoods year after year.
Coffee rearing—or coffee farming—covers the entire life cycle of the plant. It begins with preparing the soil, planting seeds or seedlings, and ensuring the trees take root. As the trees grow, they need regular pruning to stay healthy, protection from pests, and sometimes a bit of fertilization to thrive. Years may pass before the first cherries appear, and even then, the harvest happens just once a year, usually between October and February in the Cordillera.
Coffee trees require patience, protection, and care through the years before they begin to bear fruit. Unlike vegetables, which can be harvested in a few months, coffee takes time. The payoff is slow, but when it arrives, it’s something worth celebrating.
In many Cordilleran households, coffee trees are planted on ancestral land. They are rarely large-scale plantations; often, you’ll find them scattered around their backyard garden (or baëng in Ibaloi), growing alongside bananas, avocados, kamote, or sayote. Families watch over them season after season. And when the cherries ripen, relatives and neighbors gather to harvest them together, handpicking only the ripest fruit.
Everything begins with the land. Farmers ready their ancestral plots by clearing weeds, turning the soil, and planting beside shade trees that have already taken root. The most common is the Alnos tree (alder tree), which doesn’t just provide shade—it also helps fertilize the soil. Some farmers plant lemon, dalandan, or banana trees for shade, while others let sayote vines grow around the coffee plants. Though not trees, sayote serves as natural shade and an extra source of income since it bears fruit every few months. In some areas, bamboo is also planted to act as a windbreaker, protecting both the crops and the soil beneath. This stage is about more than just digging—it’s about ensuring the foundation is healthy enough to sustain the trees for years to come.
Next comes the planting of seeds or seedlings, usually grown in small nurseries until they’re strong enough to transfer into the fields. Once in the ground, these trees demand constant attention: pruning, watering, and making sure they get the right amount of shade and sun. Farmers often say that this is the “rearing” part in its truest sense—because coffee, much like a child, needs consistent nurture as it grows.
Coffee trees take a while before they bear fruit, and even then, the harvest only comes once a year. During this long waiting period, farmers do what they can to protect the plants from pests and disease. Weather, however, is beyond anyone’s control—so they focus instead on tending to their other crops, like root crops, which can withstand unpredictable seasons. It’s a test of patience and resilience—watching over trees season after season, knowing the reward won’t come immediately.
Finally, when the cherries turn bright red—usually between December and February—it’s time to harvest. Families and neighbors often gather to handpick the fruit, selecting only the ripest ones. This moment is a celebration in itself—a time when hard work meets reward, and the community comes together to share in the season’s yield. Because it happens just once a year, the harvest is treasured like gold.
So why do we describe coffee rearing to be “like gold”? Well, because when it yields, it can change lives. The income from coffee harvests can cover bigger household needs that everyday crops may not. It can send children to school, fund medical care, or help improve farms and homes. It also supports the wider community—covering labor costs for neighbors who help during planting or harvest. Some of them don’t own land, so their income depends on working alongside farmers who do. In that way, every harvest sustains not just one family, but the community around it. It brings a kind of security that farmers hold on to, even if it comes only once a year.
But the value of coffee isn’t measured only in pesos. For many Cordilleran families, coffee is also a legacy. Some trees were planted by grandparents or great-grandparents, making every harvest a link between past and present. It’s a living connection—each cup brewed elsewhere carries the story, culture, and quiet resilience of the people who grew it.
To rear coffee is to invest in both livelihood and identity. It requires resilience to wait, patience to care, and hope that each harvest will sustain the family and preserve tradition. Beyond monetary value, it holds a worth far deeper than money.
Coffee in the Cordillera is part of a cultural rhythm, woven into ancestral land, family life, and community ties. The harvest season is a reminder of what can grow when people care for the land together, and how generations of farmers have kept this tradition alive despite challenges.
When we sip coffee, it is easy to focus only on the flavor in the cup. But behind that flavor is a story of farmers patiently rearing trees for years, of families handpicking cherries, of communities balancing their harvest with other crops to endure through the seasons.
In honoring coffee, we also honor the culture and people who have carried it forward, one harvest and one cup at a time.