How coffee farming defied a king and shaped a town

Generous, open, and proud, Miguel Ubaque is the kind of Colombian you won’t see on Netflix. Yet he’s exactly the kind of Colombian I’ve met over and over again in my nearly three years here.

Colombian coffee grower Miguel Ubaque. (Delaney Turner)

He’s also the kind of Colombian you’d never have had the chance to meet a few years ago. But the cessation of violence in the region and the Traditional Bogotá Coffee Tour from Andes EcoTours have made meeting Miguel a reality for hundreds of coffee lovers.

Miguel enjoys meeting visitors, too.

Seven years ago, Miguel gave up his job in Bogotá to take over his father’s coffee farm in Tibacuy, about a two-hour drive southwest of the city. A few modern upgrades later (electric depulper, a custom-built drying rack) and his coffee is consistently rated export-quality.

Miguel’s latest crop earned him an 85.25 rating, high enough to be designated “Specialty.” (Delaney Turner)

The region just south of Bogotá was once a major hub of Colombian coffee production, a distinction now usually reserved for the Eje Cafetero (Coffee Axis) of Caldas, Quindío, and Risaralda.

Specialty coffee from bean to cup. (Delaney Turner)

Andes’ day-long tour takes you to three working coffee farms where you’ll see how the beans are grown and processed.

You’ll also strap on a basket and try your hand at picking ripe coffee cherries on the slippery slopes, roast your harvest over a wood-burning fire, and taste the results of your labor.

All of this is interesting. But what really made the experience worthwhile for me was host Andres’ stories of the role of coffee in the political history of the region.

Previously an area controlled by a few large landholders, coffee farmers in the 1930s successfully pushed for land reform, dividing what were large plantations into smaller family farms a few hectares in size.

Among the many crops grown here, coffee is the only one farmers can grow for a profit on small private farms. The reforms provided greater economic independence for more of the region’s farmers.

Coffee’s political dimension is also made apparent at our first stop in Silvania. Unlike many towns I’ve visited in Colombia, Silvania was not founded by Spanish Conquistadors, but by a citizen, Ismael Silva. Nor was it dedicated to a saint, but rather, to coffee farmers.

On the surface, Silvania’s town square looks like any other small Colombian town. But as I learned from Andres, its development by coffee farmers and long history of Liberal support have resulted in several key differences. For example:

• By Royal decree, Spanish colonial towns needed to be laid out in a 8X8 grid pattern emanating from a main square. Silvania has no such grid.
• Unlike Spanish colonial towns, the church is not in the main square. Rather, it lies a few blocks away. Further, church leaders were not even invited to the town’s founding in 1935.
• There is no cross in the town square, nor is there any Christian iconography. Instead, two naked Indigenous features adorn a pyramid-shaped obelisk.

Silvania’s unconventional town square. (Delaney Turner)

By now it should be apparent that (a) coffee is really important to the Colombian economy, and that (b), I really like Colombian coffee.

Until I took the tour, however, I hadn’t seen the painstaking process required to go from bean to cup, nor had I seen the pride that Colombians take in this critical crop.