Sri Lanka’s Tea Trails
- and a renaissance in tea ethics
By Cindy-Lou Dale
A cockerel announced the break of a new
day. The world was bathed in that predawn light that seems to come from nowhere.
An elusive bouquet wafted across the room, rousing me to a freshly-brewed cup of
Ceylon tea. Wrapped in a duvet, cup in hand, I shuffled across to my window
seat.
Set in a deep bowl of emerald velvet was
a small mist shrouded village stirring to wakefulness. The first golden rays of
dawn unfolded across a dewy plantation of shimmering mint coloured tea bushes,
as trim as urban hedgerows, punctuated by scarlet and turquoise coloured saris
of the early shift tea pickers. Their poised silhouettes, slightly stooped,
merged with the tea bushes. This was a landscape so timeless and fetching, so
companionably rooted to an ancient past it all but reduced me to verbal
paralysis.
Some four thousand feet above the Indian
Ocean, in the central highlands of Sri Lanka, lies Bogawantalawa Valley, known
as the golden valley of tea and home to old Ceylon, the country’s former name,
synonymous with the world’s finest tea.
Numerous myths and legends surround the
arrival of tea plantations in Ceylon, but in reality it was due to the skill and
foresight of Sir James Taylor, a Scottish coffee plantation manger, who
initially experimented with just nineteen acres (eight hectares) of tea in 1867.
Three years later the colonial coffee plantations were struck by a rotting
fungus. Within a few short years of the coffee crop failure, the island’s
plantations changed to tea and today Ceylon is the world's largest tea exporter.
The tea sector in Ceylon is a vital component of the economy - the country's
largest employer, both directly and indirectly, to over one-million people.
Ceylon’s very best teas draw their
distinctive essence and flavour from the stimulating environmental conditions of
the mountainous regions of the hill country.
I stood beside Andrew Taylor, a kindly
and deferential fellow, whose ancestral lineage dates back to Sir James, the
founding father of Ceylon tea.
We quietly surveyed the glorious swathes
of intensely green tea acreage containing some of the original tea bushes
planted by Sir James.
I was spellbound by the vivid saris of
the women, whose hands resembled butterflies flitting over the shrubs, moving
independently of one another, nipping off the youngest and topmost leaves by
snapping the stem with a sharp movement of the index and middle fingers,
then tossing their pickings into large baskets on their backs.
Following my gaze to the colourful
swirls interspersed amongst the tea bushes, Andrew smiled. “It is said that only
small and agile feminine hands, and the patience of the female temperament, can
achieve high yield plucking.”
This interpretation aside, quite clearly
plucking tea leaves requires exacting skills, more specifically nimble fingers.
It’s all in the wrist
“That,” Andrew pointed out, “is what we
refer to as a fine plucking. Those ladies are removing only the bud on the stem,
together with the first two leaves directly below it.” We watched them in
silence, listening to their whispered voices and soft humming.
Here and there turbaned men, clothed in
crisp white linen jacket and sarongs, pruned and supervised the plucking
process. Once the pluckers had filled their baskets they would meet at an
assembly point where the leaves were inspected and weighed before being
transported to the tea estate factory, a rectangular white building at the end
of the valley.
“Ceylon’s tea bushes, if left untended,
shoot up to become immensely tall trees,” Andrew explained. “They are pruned
regularly for tea growing purposes and are never taller than a squat bush – thus
making the plucking process of the tender young top leaves easier.”
“Teas are graded according to the
geographic heights at which they are grown,” Andrew continued. “The low-grown
tea, which accounts for about half of Ceylon’s total production, is found from
sea level up to 600 metres. The principal Ceylon crops come from these lowlands
and are popular in Western Asia, the Middle East and Russia as the tea leaves
are twisted and retain much of their original length. Medium-grown teas are
found from around 600 to 1,200 metres and produce a thicker tea popular in
Australia, Europe, Japan and North America. But it’s at the slow-growing higher
altitudes of 1,200 metres and above where the optimum grades are nurtured and
where Ceylon’s reputation for taste and aroma is found.”
He continued, detailing information
about medium-grown and high-grown territories which are further subdivided into
western (Dimbula) and eastern (Uva) regions.
“Teas from these regions have their own
characteristics, depending on factors like the direction of the slope and
weather conditions at plucking time; also basic climatic conditions like
temperature - cool nights for example, produce a better tea.”
Where the transition takes place
We took a torturously slow drive along a
steep mountain path to the Norwood factory. On route Andrew explained the
production process, which starts with the withering of semi-dry green leaves
which are then transferred to a machine to be rolled, causing them to rupture
and twist. These crushed leaves are left to oxidize for a while and then fired,
producing black tea.
“The secret of producing a good quality
tea,” Andrew said, “is in the precise timing of each process along the way.
Whatever feelings of unhurried
tranquillity the plantations may have evoked, the opposite was true of the
stifling hot and dimly lit tea factory where barefoot labourers toiled amid a
jumble of roaring mechanical contraptions.
Andrew broke off to speak with a
supervisor, slipping into fluent Sinhala, one of Ceylon’s official languages –
the others being English and Tamil, spoken mostly in the north.
He went on to explain that it is a
common misconception that black and green tea leaves are derived from two
different plants.
“They are in fact from the same bush,
Camellia Sinensis, the only difference being that green tea is unfermented tea
while black tea is oxidized and turned into black tea by drying. In green tea
production, the leaves are first steamed to prevent any fermentation taking
place, then sun-dried and pan-roasted, while with black tea, the leaves are
withered, rolled, oxidized and dried in high heat.”
Andrew’s voice was all but lost amongst
the deafening factory noises. He pointed out a machine and detailed the
happenings of the mechanical rolling process.
“The withered leaves are rolled -
actually it’s more of a twisting and crushing action - which causes the cell
walls to break down, releasing the leaves green tannin, which gives tea its
distinctive flavour. The more the leaf is twisted and broken the more superior
its strength and flavour.” He considered his statement for a moment, then added.
“Historically this was done in the palm of the hand, but was considered
unsanitary and now the rolling machines’ rotating metal disks perform this
task.”
The process continued onto roll
breaking, a procedure which separates the twisted balls of leaves and allows
them to cool. The roll-breaker is a long mechanised sieve that vibrates while
pushing the leaves over the mesh from one end to the other.
The leaves are then fired and dried for
21 minutes in an enormous dryer on a series of trays exposing them to
temperatures as high as 260°F (120°C). If the drying period is too short, the
leaves may become mouldy in time; too long, and the flavour becomes a bitter and
caramelised.
Before packing, the dry leaves are
graded and sorted by vibrating sieves into two main categories, namely whole
leaf and broken leaf, and then still further subdivided.
How the tea is graded
Grading machines are fitted with meshed
screens of different seizes - uniform to those used in tea plantations around
the world.
“Ceylon’s fragrant liquor teas are famed
the world over for the luxuriously full bodied, sharp black leaves that come
from these hills,” Andrew announced.
Purists flinch at the notion of adding
sugar and milk to tea, but it works well with a sweet breakfast or afternoon
pastry. Unlike pale-pink or jade-green Oriental brews, the average tea lover
finds the familiar golden buttercup hues of black tea, somewhat pleasing.
To experience life on a working tea
estate I reserved a suite at one of the Ceylon Tea Trails four converted
colonial bungalows which were originally built for the British tea estate
managers in the days of the Raj. Now, sitting on the shaded veranda overlooking
Norwood Estate, Andrew critically inspected the contents of a tea pot placed
before him; then dutifully went about pouring me a brew.
“This tea was given almost no oxidation
time,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at the cup. “I’d say it’s given the
final product a characteristic rawness.” I nodded, agreeing with what tasted
like a mouthful of amber liquid infused with something remarkably silken.
“The flavour is extraordinarily bright
and invigorating,” Andrew pursed his lips; this particular tea evidently soothed
his soul. “This is a creation of the slow growing altitude.” He closed his eyes,
savouring the after-taste.
After a moment he continued. “Ceylon’s
tea grades are encoded in obscure initials on the packaging, identifying the
grade of leaf.”
He spoke to a member of staff, asking
for a few samples of sealed packs to be brought to the table and spent the next
hour dutifully explaining the tea grading process to me.
It’s all in the tasting
“The final and equally important part of
the whole process is evaluating the taste,” Andrew announced.
“A producer would taste his tea merely
for quality control purposes and then the broker would do a tasting and inform
buyers as to what qualities are available. In turn the broker advises what the
requirements of the buyers are seeking. The buyers will also do a tasting,
either to assess the broker’s appraisal prior to purchase or for blending
purposes. However, we deal directly with the buyers who all have expert palates
and can instantly establish any miscalculations in the production process.”
Going Native
Heading back to Castlereagh Lake, where
my airtaxi waited to take me back to Colombo, we followed a windy road which led
through a magical montage of deep valleys and high mountains draped in hues of
moss and jade. I asked my driver, Gunapala, if we could stop off at a tea room
at the nearby village. He smiled broadly, nodding enthusiastically.
I tried to ignore the abject poverty
around me and quietly wondered after the efficiency of Fairtrade.
We were each handed a cup of
treacle-like black tea and what appeared to be a cube of sugar.
“This is the way locals drink Ceylon
tea,” Gunapala informed me, picking up the sugar cube.
“To drink tea with us you need to take
this jaggery and place it here, in front of your teeth. Then you carefully sip
the tea through the cube.” We exchanged smiles and I followed his direction.
Jaggery is an intensely sweet, solid
block of sugar derived from the reduction of the sap from the coconut flower
which, when evaporated and caramelised, has a sugary-fudgey character, making it
an ideal accompaniment to the intensely thick, strong, smaller-leafed teas
favoured by the local market. Without jaggery, these teas would be a real trial
to drink. The sugar counteracts the strength and bitterness of the tea and
ensures an energy boost which will keep the recipient purring on productively
for several hours.
Sri Lanka’s Tea Guerrillas
“We are way beyond Fairtrade,” announced
Malik Fernando, the dynamic Operations Director of Colombo based Dilmah Tea, who
dismisses Fairtrade as a once noble concept which has been exploited and
developed into a marketing strategy.
Spearheading the commodity culture of
multi-origin blends some thirty years ago, ruthless traders began acquiring the
many family owned, quality oriented tea brands. Those brands who did not
willingly sell out were doomed to bankruptcy.
Heavily discounted multi-origin blend
supermarket teas all but guaranteed a nose-dive in quality, creating in its
place brand-name consumer dependency. As such, almost any tea brand bought today
is a commodity tea, made from a blend of thirty or more countries.
“My father created Dilmah Tea in 1988,
providing tea lovers around the world with a single origin pure Ceylon tea, and
a personal guarantee of distinctive quality and absolute freshness.”
Dilmah is the world’s first fully
integrated family tea company who grow, pick, process, package and market tea
under their own international brand-name.
“Most Fairtrade stamped products are
typically littered with three to five middlemen who wedge themselves between the
tea farmer and the consumer,” Malik paused for reflection. “This means poverty
stricken farmers remain penniless as the middleman purchases their crops at very
low prices, seldom enough for the farmers to cover their production costs.”
“Earnings from Dilmah remain in Sri
Lanka,” Malik continued. “We focus on business ethics and social responsibility
by sharing our proceeds with our workers and the community - reinvesting in the
industry, making tea a sustainable commodity for all.”
As the world’s top tea exporter for
2006, Sri Lanka’s tea industry earned $850-million dollars in 2006 ($750-million
in 2005) by exporting 327-million kilograms of black tea (309-million kilograms
in 2005).
Merrill Fernando, the founder of Dilmah
and the Godfather of Tea, strode into reception where I was waiting for my
driver. He had a certain Nelson Mandela air about him. We exchanged smiles when
he saw my parcel of tea. “Our tea is different,” he said “I know you’ll like
it.”
Mile High Club
“Tea? Coffee?” the airline stewardess
enquired.
“Depends,” I said, “got any Jaggery?”
She looked at me with a touch of wonder.
“No Jaggery here, I’m afraid, but as
we’re the country’s official airline we consider ourselves ambassadors to
Ceylon’s best.”
She produced a distinctively marked “T”
tin of Dilmah. We swapped smiles.
“Go on then,” I said, inclining my head
at my cup.
I considered the destiny of the
sweet-scented leaves as they travelled to their final destinations and
envisioned well dressed tea-trays in homes around the world, bearing scones and
china tea pots, warm milk and sugar lumps.
Andrew Taylor’s easy smile came to mind.
“Splendid stuff, wouldn’t you say?” I could hear him ask.
Dilmah Tea is a Sri Lankan based family
company who challenges multinational control of the global tea industry. Dilmah
is a global tea brand which markets its pure unblended Ceylon tea directly to
the consumer in more than 80 countries worldwide.
www.dilmahtea.com
GETTING THERE:
Start your trip on the culturally right
foot and travel with SriLankan Airlines who fly from JFK.
www.srilankan.lk
SriLankan Airlines offers an air taxi
service from Colombo International Airport to the inland tea country, with a
first touchdown scheduled for Castlereagh Lake in early March 2007, thus
avoiding many hours of torturous road travel.
www.srilankan.aero/airtaxi
ACCOMMODATIONS:
There are four sprawling single storey
Tea Trails bungalows in the tea country ranging from four to six rooms each -
twenty luxurious rooms and suites in all. Each has been sympathetically restored
offering a unique experience of life on a working tea estate. All the bungalows
differ: on the shores of Lake Castlereagh is Summerville which has an air of a
country cottage and on the opposite bank is Castlereagh, with an eclectic style
of its own; at the opposite end of the valley is Norwood, modern with a twist of
history and in the valley beyond is Tientsin, regally colonial. Each bungalow
comes with its own chef, butler and several houseboys. All inclusive rates start
at $180 per person.
www.teatrails.com
Round off your trip with a night at
Colombo’s colonial Grande Dame - the Galle Face Hotel. Reserve a room in the
Regency Wing and savour high tea on the lawns overlooking the Indian Ocean. B&B
rates start at $125.
www.gallefacehotel.com
The word pekoe comes from the Chinese
pak-ho, which alludes to the fine hair of the newborn infant and was applied to
young tea buds still covered with light down. Orange, contrary to popular
belief, has nothing to do with colour or flavour but refers to the princes of
Orange, who were descended from the house of Nassau. The word thus conveys the
idea of noble quality and was probably first used by Dutch merchants to give
distinction to the product.
TEA TASTING TERMS:
Blackish: a satisfactory appearance in
CTC-type teas;
Bloom: a sign of good manufacture; a
sheen that has not been lost;
Brown: an appearance in CTC-type teas
indicating harsh treatment;
Chesty: a taint created by inferior or
unseasoned packing material;
Crepy: a crimped leaf feature common to
BOP teas;
Curly: the appearance of whole leaf teas
such as OP;
Grainy: describes primary grades of CTC
teas;
Leafy: tea in which the leaves tend to
be on the large or long size;
Mushy: tea that has been packed with
high moisture content;
Musty: tea affected by mildew
Neat: a grade having good make and size;
Ragged: an uneven, badly manufactured
tea;
Stalk: and fibre should be minimal in
superior grades;
Tip: a sign of fine plucking apparent in
top grades;
Wiry: leaf appearance of a well-twisted
thin-leaf tea. |