In Cihawuk, coffee does not arrive merely as an aroma. It comes along with the cold air, the steep uphill roads, the now-familiar hum of machinery, and the memory of days when everything was still done by hand. Between the orchards and the villagers’ homes, coffee once traveled a long road before becoming a beverage: picked, dried, pounded, carried to distant roasting facilities, and then brought back to the village with stories of exhaustion that buyers do not always see.
For some, coffee might only be a matter of taste. For the locals who process it from scratch, coffee is a matter of energy, time, cost, courage, and patience. Before the machinery arrived, the process was far from simple. There was coffee that had to be ditutu—pounded manually—using whatever tools were available. There were beans that had to be carried all the way to Tarumajaya to be roasted. Sometimes setting off in the afternoon, there was no guarantee it would be finished by nightfall, and then they had to journey back to Cihawuk. Behind a single package of coffee, there is a distance traveled, an exhausted body, and the sheer determination of a group learning to stand on its own.
That story lives through the voice of Pak Sugandi, the Treasurer of KPS Mencil Lestari, whom the villagers familiarly call Uwa Mas. He does not speak in fabricated or flowery language. He begins with gratitude, then slowly uncovers memories of the time before the mentoring, before the machinery, and before the group truly believed that Cihawuk coffee could be processed further within their own village.
From Manual Pounding to Machinery that Opens the Way
Before the assistance of tools and mentoring arrived, coffee processing at KPS Mencil Lestari was carried out in a very simple manner. Many things were done independently, driven by their own inspiration, and with whatever limited capabilities they possessed. Pak Sugandi describes that period as a time of “extraordinary” difficulty.
He remembers how he, alongside the group leader, had to process the coffee manually. Once the coffee was dry, the beans were pounded until they became green beans. After that, the coffee had to be taken to Tarumajaya to be roasted. This process was not only physically exhausting, but it also highlighted the group’s limited position within the coffee value chain. They had the coffee, the spirit, and the members, but they did not yet possess the necessary tools to process their own harvest more efficiently.
That was the turning point where change began to be felt, as the pulper, huller, sorting, and roasting machines arrived. For Pak Sugandi, that moment was more than just technical assistance. He describes it as one of the most beautiful experiences. There was a sense of joy that was hard to imagine when something that once felt so far out of reach finally stood right in front of the group.
Those machines changed the rhythm of the work. Coffee that once had to be pounded manually can now be processed much faster. Operations that used to depend on other places are now starting to be done right in Cihawuk. Tasks that once drained so much physical energy now have a new way forward. For a group learning completely from scratch, the equipment is not just an object; it has become a sign that their efforts are deemed possible.
“What Used to Be Left Behind, Is Now Beginning to Open Up”
Pak Sugandi does not attribute the changes solely to the machinery. For him, what has also shifted is insight. He admits that he was previously unfamiliar with FOLU, agroforestry, and broader approaches to the coffee business. All of that began to become familiar after several meetings, discussions, and mentoring sessions.
“Our former selves, who were once left behind, are now beginning to open up,” he said.
That sentence is crucial because it indicates a change far deeper than just the upgrading of production tools. Before the mentoring, the group worked with knowledge that grew from their own experience. As the process got underway, they began to recognize other ways of reading the orchard, the coffee, and the business. Agroforestry no longer sounded merely like an external term, but began to be translated into guidance for group members: how to farm, how to care for plants, and how to view coffee as part of a longer-term land management strategy.
At the same time, the business model mentoring also opened up a new space for learning. Previously, Pak Sugandi admitted he had never been exposed to discussions about business models. Now, albeit gradually, he is starting to understand that the coffee business is not just about selling the harvest. There are production costs, labor, processing fees, bookkeeping, cost of goods sold, equipment service fees, and plans to expand the business from upstream to downstream.
This transformation is not yet complete. However, it has already moved the group from simply “processing because they have to” to “processing while learning to run the numbers.”
Minculak: A Greater Desire
In the midst of this process, the product name became part of the story. Their coffee product is named Minculak. According to Pak Sugandi, the name was born from an old saying: kahayang anu leuwih—a greater desire. That name is more than just a brand. It holds the memory of fighting from scratch, of the pessimism that once came from their surroundings, and of the effort to prove that a small group in Cihawuk could have its own product.
In the past, when the group first started building the business, not everyone believed in them right away. Some doubted, feeling the endeavor would amount to nothing. Yet, Pak Sugandi and the other managers kept moving forward. He describes that struggle as being carried out “heart-to-heart” to the point of “tears.” From that journey, Minculak became more than just a name on a package. It became a sign that Cihawuk coffee is carving out its own place.
The change is beginning to show in the way farmers deliver their coffee. While the flow used to lean heavily toward middlemen or other channels, a portion is now starting to enter the KPS. Pak Sugandi notes an increase from small quantities like one, two, or five kilograms, up to 60 to 70 kilograms on several occasions. These figures do not need to be read as grand claims, but rather as early signs: trust is beginning to grow, slowly, transforming small transactions into a more regular relationship.
Coffee, Group Cash, and Learning to Value Labor
One of the crucial lessons from this transformation is the realization that a group business must have a foundation of calculation. Pak Sugandi realizes that labor needs to be calculated. Processing costs must be recorded. Equipment service fees must be set aside for the group’s needs, including the possibility of future maintenance or repairs.
This is where the KPS is beginning to shift from pure communal cooperation (gotong royong) toward a more orderly economic institution. The machinery indeed helps speed up the process, but it also brings new responsibilities: who uses it, how much does it cost, how to record income, how to manage the cash reserves, and how to ensure the equipment remains beneficial long-term.
Pak Sugandi notes that all the machinery is being utilized, though not yet at optimal capacity. Some members use it, and some outsiders also utilize it for small quantities. However, its utilization still needs to be expanded. This serves as an important note: the assistance of equipment does not automatically create a mature business. It must be sustained by management, promotion, markets, bookkeeping, and the habituation of the members.
In other words, the machinery opens the way. But that way still has to be maintained.
An Honest Note from an Unfinished Space
The changes at KPS Mencil Lestari are certainly felt, but not everything is running perfectly yet. The utilization capacity of the equipment is still progressing gradually. Outside users are still few. The recording of production costs and labor is only just being learned. The Minculak product still needs to be introduced more widely. The group must also build new habits so that coffee is not just processed for immediate cash needs, but becomes a planned business enterprise.
This critical note actually strengthens the story. Because social change never happens like a light switch instantly flicking on. A group that used to process coffee manually is now learning to become business managers. That requires time, mentoring, markets, and a more orderly division of roles. Without these, the machinery can run, but the business will not necessarily grow to its full potential.
Pak Sugandi himself understands that this process is only the beginning. He sees the need to keep learning, to improve methods of work, and to open up opportunities so that the product from Cihawuk becomes increasingly well-known.
Uwah Gingsir, Never Give Up Easily
When asked about the most important lesson, Pak Sugandi mentions togetherness. He uses the phrase uwah gingsir—never give up easily. This expression captures the character of the transformation currently being undergone by KPS Mencil Lestari. They did not suddenly become strong. They once worked manually, once traveled far to roast, once processed with makeshift tools, and were once unknown. Yet, from those bittersweet experiences, they built the conviction that Cihawuk coffee has a path forward.
His hopes are simple yet profound: that Minculak becomes well-known, the group grows stronger, the coffee business develops from upstream to downstream, and the benefits flow back to the community. For partners, mentors, universities, the government, and buyers, the message from Uwa Mas is clear enough. The next stage of mentoring needs to strengthen marketing, cost accounting, equipment maintenance, production capacity, packaging, and consumer networks. The group does not just need tools, but also an ecosystem so that those tools can generate longer-term change.
In Cihawuk, Minculak coffee was not born in a neat showroom. It was born from peurih-peuheurna—the bittersweet struggles of manual labor, long journeys, and the courage to try. From the hands of Uwa Mas and the people who do not easily gingsir, the future of smallholder coffee is slowly being shaped: from beans that were once crushed with whatever was at hand, toward a product that wishes to stand on its own name, taste, and dignity.