Could I Interest You in a Warm Cup of Ceylon Tea?

Michelle Gross

Sri Lanka really is a paradise island.  It is such a small country but is filled with so much biodiversity. 

Waterfall and cloud forest in high country, cooler climate

Some delicious tropical fruits, grown in the low country

I was saddened to hear about the social and environmental impact of the tea industry on Sri Lanka. Employees and managers of small and large tea corporations, government officials involved in commerce, hotel and guest-house owners, random taxi or tuktuk drivers, young professionals in the capital, Colombo, staff of Grace, the orphanage and elder care center where I was interning, and many other people I had the opportunity to speak to openly expressed their concern. It was at least somewhat of a relief to hear Sri Lankans of diverse backgrounds bring up this issue. 

Tea plantation, high country, in Nuwara Eliyah

Tuktuk to get to a tea plantation and visitors center

Meeting at Grace to discuss progress with tea companies

Some History: Social and Environmental Impact of the Ceylon Tea Industry

Sri Lanka was a major coffee producer until the late 1800s before the major outbreaks of a disease similar to coffee rust, a fungus that is a serious threat to coffee all over the world (and a topic of interest in my current research of specialty coffee in Costa Rica for my Masters project at the School of Natural Resources and Environment.)

Then, in the late 1800s, tea cultivation was introduced by the British. Sir Thomas Lipton and his business partners converted vast acres of land into tea plantations, and revolutionized the tea industry, selling individually sealed bags to lock in freshness. The new presentation and promotions of tea increased popularity of Ceylon tea, and the growing industry needed more workers. Tamils from India of the lowest caste were brought as migrant workers to work as tea pickers, given the most basic living conditions and hardly any wage. Increased deforestation of the jungle, and farming practices of monoculture, the use of non-native species of trees on the plantations, and other cookie-cutter approaches led to the current environmental state. Today there is heavy erosion all over the country, causing the rivers to literally turn brown due to the excess silt. I was amazed to see a country lush with endless bodies of water, and devastated to see many of them dark, thick brown in color, only to hear that this was not the case thirty or forty years ago. The social and environmental cost of the tea industry was incurred a long time ago, but the effects are being felt today.

"No Chemical Zone" : Some plantations are now enforcing restrictions on use of certain pesticides and fertilizer

Tea pickers carrying fresh tea sack to the factory to be weighed for their daily wage


Tea processing, near Kandy

Tea bagging facility, High-end pyramid tea bags

Mangroves near Colombo

The environmental department of the government has been looking for ways to mitigate the problem. One of the proposals is to remove the silt from the rivers and ‘refertilize’ the tea plantations; a move that would have a heavy economic cost, and only offer a short term solution, since the erosion would continue to be a reality and the silt would make its way back to the rivers once again. I hope that they find other ways to reverse some of the environmental damage.

River somewhere between Colombo and Trincomalee

Fun Ceylon Tea Facts and Other Observations 

Tea brand with buds used for Silver Tips

Tea leaves and buds

Tea buds used for Silver Tips

Sri Lanka has 6 or 7 tea regions. The exact number depends on whom you speak with. The regions vary in elevation, with 1,800m above sea level in Nuwara Eliyah, where arguably the best tea comes from. Blended tea is considered the best way to drink tea in Sri Lanka, as they say that mixing them together makes it possible to increase complexity of the flavors. Tea at high altitudes has a lighter flavor and redder color; tea produced at low altitudes has a stronger, more astringent flavor and darker color.

Teas of different grades from a single estate in Nuwara Eliyah

Different grades of processed teas

·    Tea is always picked by hand in Sri Lanka. This means that the estate can decide to only pick a few of the youngest leaves, enhancing the quality of the cup. The estates that I visited in Nuwara Eliyah and Kandy regions had some variation in number of leaves picked, but most common was two leaves and a bud. Tea in Sri Lanka is mainly processed by machinery, much of which is dated from the late 1800s or early 1900s. Hand picking and machine processing makes it possible to ‘standardize’ quality. Ceylon tea has a consistently high quality for the cup, but has low market price. Unlike in Japan, Taiwan or China, where hand picked and hand rolled teas are easier to find, and prices can be $100/kilo or more, Sri Lanka does not produce tea that is sold at these specialty prices.  However, there are only a few smaller estates in the country that hand process their teas.  Their output is very small (I.e. A couple dozen kilos per month of single estate, single origin tea).

Mural of a tea picker, Tea Museum, Kandy

Tea pickers

Having tea with owners of a tea house in Japan after the Tea Museum tour, Kandy

     Tea is not seasonal in Sri Lanka, but rather grows and is harvested constantly. There is constant rain and constant sun, so tea can be grown and harvested year-round and generally has a consistent flavor. This could be a benefit, as it only takes about ten days for a plant to produce a bud ready for harvest. However,  this can also make it [nearly] impossible to produce very unique and flavorful teas. Some say that Ceylon tea does not have a flavor that really stands out, or is not complex. In order for those rich flavors to develop, the plant needs to be under stress. In other words, lack of rain, lack of sun, prolonged dryness or drought can make the tea plant go through a process that affects its flavor… (Now, it’s up to the consumer to debate whether this causes a better or worse flavor balance.)

Cloud forest and tea plantation in the highlands

     Tea tasters use all four senses to get a sense of and fully taste tea: first they look at the tea leaves and its intricate shapes, observing from up close and arms length.  Dry, spread on a white cardboard paper, and wet, in a white tea cup (or holder). Then, they touch the tea with their fingers (usually dry) . they smell both dry and wet and finally taste the tea, slurping it in, making a huge sound, the kind that your mother tells you not to make when drinking hot soup. And then again, and again, going down the line of tea to try each sample.

Tea Tasting workshop at De Mel's Tea Academy

 

·     There is a lot of misinformation.  For example, I was told several times by different individuals that legally estates must sell 80% their processed tea through the Tea Auction, which happens several times a week. The Ceylon Tea Auction is the single largest tea auction in the world where about 6.5 million kilograms are sold weekly.  Tea agents and sellers who attend  the auction must be extremely prepared. They try tea samples each week before attending, and prepare their valuation of each tea they are interested in buying that week. They must be very experienced to be able to taste the intricacies of each sample, and to be able to follow the fast pace of the sellers at the auction. I was told by government officials at the Chamber of Commerce that even they do not understand what goes on; the sellers speak so fast that it all sounds like gibberish. 

      Actually, the different ratios that I was told of 70, 76, 80% of tea having to be sold at the Auction is completely false. Tea estates can sell their product to the buyer of their choice. Most choose to sell through the auction since it is an easy, standardized procedure they are comfortable with, and the payback period is just under a week.

·      Gender Divide Besides tea pickers, it seems women are absent from this industry in Sri Lanka. This is a good conversation starter, so we can talk about this more next time we meet.

Tea pickers busy at the plantation

Tea picker and Manager

Tea Mission Meets True Cinnamon

Michelle Gross - Ross School of Business & School for Environment and Sustainability

Back in April I participated in a spice workshop held at Zingerman’s by the Spice Trekkers, a family from Montreal who travels the world buying high quality deliciously poignant spices directly from producers. Sometimes they share their abundance of knowledge (and secrets) to curious workshop goers like myself. Little did I know they would put me in touch with their ‘Cinnamon friends’ in Sri Lanka, who would introduce me to the world of true cinnamon.

I spent a day touring the cinnamon plantation and factory near Bentota, Sri Lanka, observing the plantation, with its diverse plant and animal species, seeing how the cinnamon plants are taken care of, and how a cinnamon stick is produced: cut and separated from its wood, dried and processed. My new friends Sanath and Deepa showed me what True Cinnamon is (delicate, soft) and what it is not (Cassia bark).

        

In most countries, an evergreen plant called Cinnamomum cassia, or Chinese cassia is cultivated. It produces a bark that looks similar to Cinnamon, and it is  often sold as Cinnamon or blended with Cinnamomum verum, or True Cinnamon, native to Sri Lanka. Cassia can be easily distinguished from Ceylon cinnamon as it has much tougher, harder bark that cannot be easily ground with a coffee grinder, and the taste simply does not compare. As I stepped into the factory, I was blown away by the intensely sweet smell, and later when the cinnamon powder touched my tongue, I experienced the exquisite, delightful flavor. The taste of Cassia does not even come close to Ceylon Cinnamon, whose aroma is sharp; sweet and spicy at the same time.

                       

Sanath showed me his new equipment, including the stools that he bought for his employees, as well as the recently constructed addition to the factory. I learned that many of the challenges he faces as a producer and exporter of cinnamon are similar to those of producers of tea, cashews, and other products in Sri Lanka. It seems that across the board, Sri Lankans are choosing to work in construction jobs rather than in the agricultural sector. Hopefully comfortable work settings can help these agricultural businesses retain employees. I took a go at scraping off the bark of one trunk, and was very satisfied with the comfortable seating and set up.

Thank you Sanath, Deepa, Ethné, Marika and their families for their generosity and for opening my eyes (and mouth) to True Cinnamon! 

On Breasts, Talking to Strangers, and Other Things My Mother Taught Me.

Julio Villasenor

Have you ever thought how cool it would be if our eyes had little cameras that could capture moments and the emotion behind them? This is something that I find myself wishing for lately. Imagine it.

Blink. The image of a five year old boy with the biggest smile waving to you when you pass by as he carries a bag full of branches bigger than him on top of his head. Blink. The joy of seeing a truck that has been bouncing you around all day being loaded with the mill necessary to make porridge. Blink. The wonder of driving through fields on the back on a bike on a night so dark yet so full of stars that it feels like the sky is a giant black snow-globe that has been pierced by thousands of tiny needles. Blink. The warm feeling of seeing a sea of little six year olds in their school uniforms run towards you to shake hands and sometimes hug your legs. Blink. The sense of peace as you watch sunrays and clouds play hide and seek behind rows of endless hills. Blink. The awkwardness of having a stranger’s breast pop out. Blink. Having another stranger pop out a breast. Blink. And a third one…

Ok. Wait. My little eye-camera wish hasn’t happened and those last blinks might need some explanation. After all, this is not that kind of blog.

As I mentioned in my last blog I have been going to Health Care Centers to understand more about the healthcare system in Rwanda, implement a small market survey and meet the women that participate in TIP’s programs. Meeting these women is always a fun experience. I especially enjoy watching how women handle and carry their babies. In Rwanda women will bend forward from the waist, balance their babies on their backs and then drape a piece of cloth over them, tie the blanket in the front and proceed with their daily lives. The final effect is like a small strapless backpack with a little doll head popping out of it. Sometimes they’ll also tie a blanket around their necks use it as a cape Superman-style to cover their babies.

I was in a HC watching the woman in front of me do this simple yet elaborate baby wrapping dance when the toddler next to her started pulling at his mother’s skirt. The mother, who was midsentence, grabbed the baby by the arm, quickly placed him on her lap and nonchalantly pulled out her breast for some baby casual dining open-air style. All of this without the slightest pause in the conversation she was having.

So what do you do in this situation? Do you politely turn the other way? Make eye contact followed by a slight “good job” nod? Stare into space? Ask how you say “bon appetite” in Kinyarwandan? Pretend something super interesting just happened in the opposite side of the room and turn around? I was tempted to go for this last option but suddenly all the children started pulling at their mothers who did the same exact thing the first one had done. No corner of the room was safe, I was cornered by bare breasted breastfeeding mothers… It was a feeding frenzy…

The only thing is, I was the only one that was freaking out. The rest of the room went on with the conversation they were having despite the fact that half of them where flashing each other. Once I realized that the skies weren’t falling and that what was going on was absolutely natural I actually started seeing the beauty in the scene and was slightly embarrassed by my initial reaction. You see, I am in Rwanda to help a business that is focused on fighting malnutrition by giving people fortified porridge, but what if not a mother’s milk is the original fortified food? What best way to fight malnutrition than by breastfeeding? And if we are really getting poetic, what best way to strengthen the bond between a mother and child?

I guess at this point I should acknowledge that my mother is a card-carrying member of La Leche League, a group dedicated to supporting breastfeeding. I should also say that my amazing wife breastfeed our kid even past the point at which it was no longer “socially cool”, which I have a feeling is now sadly around the three week mark. So, if anything, I now question when and why breastfeeding became uncool in the more “modern” world. Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange that, as a society, we are obsessed with super foods but whenever a mom super-feeds her baby people in the room get super uncomfortable?

Anyway… food for thought……

But now that we are sort of talking about families, let me tell you the quick story of how I spent father’s day this year.

The designated Sunday found me slightly hung-over (another story) walking around Nyabugogo (the taxi-van/bus station) looking for my ride home. I met a driver who recognized me and pointed me to his taxi-van. As I approached it I noticed that the vehicle was already very crammed and the only remaining seats were those in the first and second row next to the door. Not the best seats because sometimes the taxi will pick up people on the way back to Ruli, if the taxi is full (which it always is) and you are in one of the aforementioned seats, people WILL seat on you. So, not feeling up to the task of potentially being a stranger’s cushion I asked the driver if there was another taxi leaving soon. He replied in the negative and so started an exchange that was partly English, partly French, partly Kinyarwandan but mostly hand gestures the objective of which was to get me in the taxi-van.

The driver, though friendly, was adamant and so I did what any self-respecting modern day person would do: I pretended my phone rang and somehow conveyed to the driver that it was going to be an important and long call. Once the taxi-van drove off I finished my imaginary conversation and started looking for a new ride. I soon found one, mostly empty, that was waiting for passengers, so I took a seat in the corner of the very last row. While waiting for the taxi-van to fill up, which took about an hour, I had the pleasure of regretting the previous night’s beers, so when the engine came alive I had a mixture of happiness at the prospect of finally getting home and dread at the road that would get me there.

The taxi, as always, was crammed to the point at which I marveled that I wasn’t fluent in Kinyarwandan yet simply by virtue of osmosis. As I pondered these thoughts I made eye contact with a girl sitting two seats away from me who had been looking at me inquisitively. She told me her name was Leopold and asked me what I was doing in Rwanda. This sparked a small conversation about me and my family so I brought out my phone to show her pictures of my loved ones. Before I knew it the phone was taxi-van public property; as it went through different hands people started commenting on the pictures they saw and asking me more questions. The woman sitting in front of me started having some form of argument with her husband; an argument that was resolved when she grabbed my hand and, forgetting that it was still attached to my body, pulled it forward to show her husband, seated in the row in front of her, that there was a ring on it.

The rest of the ride home was a taxi-van conversation on family, marriage, porridge, kids, the economy, health and several other subjects. Everyone chimed in, everyone laughed at my broken Kinyarwandan and everyone shared something about themselves. It was dark when we made it back and as I walked home I reflected on the amazing father’s day gift I had just gotten: I had boarded a taxi full of strangers and, by sharing pictures of my family, by the time we got to Ruli I got out of a taxi full of new friends.  

Hide-and-seek

Loading our truck with the hammermill

How much life do you see in these two pictures