Touched by the Sun's Rays
When Adelina Tarino introduces herself, it takes a while.
Kadte leader of the Daraghuyan Ancestral Domain. Protected Area Management Board member. Tribal solemnizing officer. Barangay chieftain. Former Indigenous Peoples Mandatory Representative. Chairperson of the Mt. Kitanglad Council of Elders.
And Bae. Bae Inatlawan, to be exact. Touched by the sun's rays.
That last part is an honorific, not a name she chose for herself. It was given to her, the way the title itself was: through ceremony, a role she still holds. In Malaybalay, Bukidnon, a Bae isn't a decoration. She's the person who keeps customary law, mediates disputes, and leads ritual, on top of everything else on that long list.
None of those titles mention coffee. It isn't named in any of them. It's what grows on the ancestral land she leads as kadte, the Daraghuyan Ancestral Domain. When a field officer once asked for a sample of her coffee, Adelina's answer was as plain as her titles are formal: "If you want that coffee, just take it."
She can hold the weight of a title conferred through ceremony and, in the same breath, say something as plain as "just take it."
Some of what she carries is harder to hand off than a coffee sample. Her ancestors read the stars, the wind, the mist, to know when a season would turn. She still teaches that every Sunday. "Only a few want to learn anymore," she says, "because the cellphone has taken over." Being the one who still knows something that could disappear is its own weight.
Even her clothing says something about who she is. The panika, a headdress worn during festivities. The benoong, a ribbon-cloth ornament, hers specifically, a symbol of respect for the woman chieftain. A title you can see, not just hear.
Ask her about the coffee itself and she gets careful. When she's tired, she says, coffee without sugar seems to clear her vision. She calls it medicine, then catches herself: "We can't really confirm if it's truly medicine because it hasn't been seen through proper study, but we can feel it."
This is coffee that has already proven itself. In 2017, out of 78 entries, hers placed first nationally at the Kape Pilipino competition, a score of 85.75. She barely spoke English at the time, and needed an interpreter just to get through the interviews before flying to Seattle to represent the Philippines. In 2026, a fellow Bae in her own cooperative, Gloria Lagawan, placed first, the highest score of any winner that year.
None of it came easily. As recently as 2024, road access, electricity, and water were still among the challenges keeping households from feeling the benefit. Until this year, quality checks meant touching the beans, and biting into them. This year, a moisture meter arrived, and a broken depulper is being replaced, both from Good Cup.
Adelina and Gloria live on a mountain many of us have never heard of, wear clothes many of us have never seen, and practice rituals many of us have never read about.
Somewhere in the Philippines, there's a version of home most of us have never known. How much of it will still be here by the time we get to know it?
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