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A New Dawn in Shangri-La:
The Struggle & Success of Tea in Nepal

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A New Dawn for Shangri-La:
The Struggle & Success of Tea in Nepal
Story and Photographs by David Drouin

The Thai monk in the next seat was taking pictures out the window with his digital camera when I woke up over the Aleutian Islands in the Bering Sea. He pointed to the icy string of islands jutting out from a tip of land below and whispered, "Alaska." At that moment, I realized my dream was becoming a reality. Winrock International, a non-government organization (NGO), had offered Fresh Cup Magazine the opportunity to send a delegate to Nepal Tea and the World 2004. As the resident tea enthusiast at the magazine, this was my chance to plunge into a real-world education in tea. Following a layover in bustling Bangkok, Thailand, I hopped on the plane to Kathmandu and met Marty Kushner, another delegate from the United States. After commiserating over our white-knuckled taxi rides in Bangkok, the conversation turned immediately to tea. Marty had started Southern Tea Company in Atlanta, Ga., almost 40 years ago, and had been invited to present a paper at the conference regarding the market for Nepali tea in the U.S. He told stories of his many trips to origin and how his commitment to the tea industry had continued even after his retirement. My tea education had officially begun.
   At the Kathmandu airport, we were greeted with a hearty "Namasté!" from Bhushan Subba, Winrock International's tea guru in Nepal. Our driver barreled down the chaotic, noisy streets, past fume-belching taxis, buses, animals, motorcycles, three-wheeled tempos and brave pedestrians, through the narrow, winding passages of the ancient capital of Shangri-La. Despite fatigue from the three-day journey, I was excited to be in a land that seemed surreal to my Western sensibilities.
   The conference began the next day and was filled with Nepali tea producers as well as delegates, journalists and tea buyers from around the world, encompassing hundreds of years of combined experience in tea. I immediately learned that Nepal's tea industry is facing two major challenges: exportation and identity. While tea has been growing in Nepal for well over 100 years, the export infrastructure is still in its infancy. Nepal's northern border is formed by the massive Himalayas, making India the easiest route of export. It can take up to two weeks for Nepali tea to leave India. In addition, the Indian government has imposed a 20-percent luxury tax on the import of foreign tea, forming a financial obstacle for Nepali tea export. Nepal's proximity to Darjeeling, one of India's most well-known and treasured tea growing regions, is a mixed blessing. The Himalayan foothills shared by both countries produce similar climate, elevation and soil conditions for growing tea, resulting in competition in the world tea market. In the past, high-quality Nepali teas were often blended with Darjeeling tea in order to add desirable characteristics. The product would then be sold as Darjeeling. Nepali tea producers explained that part of the reason for this practice is that the aging tea bushes in Darjeeling can create a brittle leaf, lowering quality during processing.
   Despite the similarities between Darjeeling and Nepali tea, many Nepali tea farmers sought to point out the significant differences in the way the two countries produce tea. While India's estates are often owned by large companies, Nepal tea is grown almost exclusively by smallholders, which facilitates better quality control. Through the Nepal Tree Crop Global Development Alliance (NTC-GDA), Winrock International has established a marketing cooperative known as the Himalayan Tea Producers Cooperative (HIMCOOP), with support from Rabo Bank. The idea is to provide smallholders with appropriate production and processing technologies in order to develop high-quality orthodox tea and bring it to market.
   Operating on a more grassroots level has its benefits. Luke Colavito, Winrock International's agricultural coordinator for Southern Asia, outlined the Nepal Smallholder Irrigation Market Initiative, or SIMI, a three-year micro-irrigation project designed to help smallholder farmers escape poverty. Funded by USAID, the Dutch government and the OPEC Fund, the project is targeting 27,000 poor smallholder families (200,000 people) to increase their annual incomes by 50 percent. Nepal's high rate of rural poverty has allowed a Maoist insurgency to develop, particularly in the midwest and western regions of the country. According to Colavito, "SIMI is attempting to reduce support for the insurgency by dramatically increasing rural incomes, showing that markets work for poor smallholders, and building government capacity to provide effective services to the rural poor." This is done in part through developing the supply chain involving agro-input suppliers and installers for micro-irrigation equipment such as treadle pumps, drip systems and low-cost water storage tanks. In addition, SIMI focuses on training farmer groups and working with them to build awareness of new opportunities, building piped water systems that provide water for drinking and irrigation, increasing literacy and facilitating access to micro-credit programs. The project has been successful in its first year, increasing the annual incomes of 15,694 families by 50 percent, or more than $100 U.S.
   A huge step in response to many concerns at the conference was the introduction and signing of a Code of Conduct (CoC) by 15 orthodox tea producers and estates. Created by the Nepali government and the private sector, the agreement is an attempt to capitalize on the small size and relative immaturity of Nepal's tea operations to create lasting value and establish quality standards for orthodox tea. Nepal intends to differentiate from many other tea exporting countries by establishing transparency in tea production. The rationale for the CoC is multifaceted and incorporates provisions for farming, labor and business practices. The code contains provisions for environmental stewardship by developing programs that teach farmers sustainable, biodynamic growing practices resulting in reduced pesticide use. The CoC addresses the empowerment of women and labor issues by creating a business model wherein signatories establish themselves as Equal Opportunity Employers who also ban the use of child labor. According to Harish Mukhia, a tea farmer for over 40 years, "In tea plantations, women play a vital role, as 80 percent of the tea pluckers in Nepali tea plantations are women... who are, therefore, the backbone of sustainability in tea plantations." Producers made it clear that their definition of quality includes building trust and sustaining relationships with international buyers, thereby reducing costs, transactions and delivery times. Orthodox tea producers in Nepal have chosen to implement the CoC as a demonstration of not only their commitment to their own country, but also to the countries receiving their tea.
   In order to take a look at how these programs were being implemented in practice, Marty, Bhushan and I met with Dilli Baskota, the general secretary of the Himalayan Orthodox Tea Producers' Association (HOTPA). Baskota welcomed us at his Kathmandu office with a contagious smile and the humble gift of a silk scarf, a sign of respect. He led us upstairs to his office and brought us some of his delicious tea. I was delighted to learn that almost every conversation about tea in Nepal begins with the consumption of it. In a room full of tea masters, I sipped quietly and took notes. Baskota discussed one of HOTPA's unique programs, the Cow Bank. The association had purchased cows to donate to 36 tea farmers, which would provide milk for the community and create compost for growing tea. Due to the program's success, they are planning to distribute another 80 to 100 cows, with priority given to those with smaller plots. I was impressed by the small scale and practical nature of the programs. Rather than simply throw money at the situation, private sector organizations were actually listening to the farmers, addressing their needs and giving them a small push that would allow them to establish themselves as tea producers while building a solid and sustainable economic foundation for their community.
   Baskota had prepared a tea tasting for us and gestured for us to follow him. Sunlight poured into the large room as the sounds of honking horns, barking dogs and children playing outside faded into those of my colleagues slurping and spitting. I timidly began to work my way down the table, choking and coughing at almost every other cup, the signature of a novice. I looked over my shoulder at our gracious host, expecting an exasperated response, but his ever-present smile indicated that this was an appropriate venue for my rite of passage.
   As the conference drew to a close, the next step in my journey was to fly to Biratnagar, an industrial town about three miles from the Indian border in the flat southeastern plains of Nepal. Suraj Vaidya, president of Guranse Tea Estate Pvt. Ltd., had invited me to view the construction of a blending facility on the outskirts of town, which would service his estate in Dhankuta, a tea-growing region high in the northeastern hills. I was joined by Guranse employees Ram and Surnam, who invited me into town for "real" Nepali food. The most common dish found in Nepal is Dal Bhat-lentils and rice-which is usually accompanied by greens and pickled vegetables. I was ravenously hungry from the trip and the food was delicious. In my haste, I inadvertently ingested an entire korsani, an extremely hot pepper used in Nepali cooking intended for consumption in tiny amounts except by those hearty souls able to withstand its power. The result was 20 minutes of profuse sweating and continuous water consumption. Once my breathing returned to normal, Ram and Surnam felt it was safe to find humor in the moment. We drank some tea and laughed at my ignorance, though they were very apologetic for not having warned me in advance.
   In the morning we had tea and walked over to the blending facility. Surnam showed me a model of the final building and explained the purpose intended for each section of the warehouse. Herbs and spices would be separate from the tea, divided by concrete walls. The intent was to create a completely clean room, where tea could be blended using both art and science. Ram and I then made the three-and-a-half-hour drive up the winding hills to Dhankuta. Unexpectedly, the road to Dhankuta was paved and perfectly pitched, having been built by the British in the 1970s. We passed through tiny villages, most of which were barred by military checkpoints. In rural areas, the Maoist threat was greater, and the military presence was significantly larger. At checkpoints throughout the journey, I noticed brightly decorated and painted Tata buses filled with families on the side of the road. The passengers were unloaded, lined up single file and individually inspected in an attempt to ensure no Maoist rebels were onboard. Because I was obviously a Westerner, our vehicle was only inspected briefly, then allowed to continue. As we passed them, I wondered what my pale face meant to those waiting in long lines to be inspected in their own country. From sea level we rose almost 7000 feet. The scenery was incredible-artistically terraced hills layered down the hillsides as far as the eye could see.
   I was welcomed at Guranse with another silk scarf, a wreath of flowers and of course, tea. Near the main house, the landscape was covered with young tea bushes. Huge fycus trees dotted the hillsides and formed spidery silhouettes against the foggy valley below. The air was thin and crisp, and the chilly wind cut through my coat, even as the midday sun was high in the sky. The faint sound of a tractor sputtering up a hill in the distance complemented the vocal bull in the barn and the busy chatter of birds who called Guranse home. It seems the quiet nature found in a cup of tea has quiet beginnings as well.
   Ranging in elevation from 3200 to 7000 feet, Guranse (which means "rhododendron" in Nepali) is one of the highest tea estates in the world. Guranse is experimenting with several varietals to learn which types of plants accept the varying conditions in light, moisture and elevation. What was once considered a wasteland due to the extremely steep and rough terrain, had been transformed into beautiful rows of tea covering the hills around us. All of the tea at Guranse is organic, a practice which begins in the nursery, using clones as opposed to seeds. While seedlings can live from 100 to 150 years, clones tend to only live 50 to 55 years. However, clones obtained from young Darjeeling mother bushes are used for their robust, disease-resistant properties and flavor profiles. This takes the guess work out of determining which plants work best in various conditions. Farmers are also anxious to reap the financial benefits from bushes that are closer to yielding tea, making clones a more viable option.
   In the lowland plains, tea plants are ready for plucking in three to five years. But at this high elevation, it can take up to seven years before they are mature enough to be plucked. The tea plants are planted approximately two-and-a-half feet apart from bush to bush, with three feet between rows. During the first year, the plants are monitored and maintained, but largely left alone to mature. In the second year of growth the plants are decentered, a process in which the shoots are spread out manually to form a frame. Stems that cross over one another during the third year are cut in order to provide aeration. The frame is formed in the fourth year of growth and frame pruning is performed until the branches reach about the thickness of a pencil. By the fifth year the bushes reach approximately 16 inches in height. The plants are ready to be plucked after seven years in the ground when they measure between 24 and 26 inches.
   An important element in producing organic tea is the use of compost, made from manure, vegetables and flowers. Compost piles strategically placed near tea plots are constructed out of hardened mud and manure and vegetable matter from nearby can be placed inside. Indoor concrete compost troughs were used as well. Excess vegetable matter is chopped and placed in the troughs, watered and allowed to decay for about a week. Manure is then added to provide food for indigenous worms. The result is organic food for tea plants, which requires approximately 13 pounds of compost per plant. Hearty fycus trees that are planted throughout the garden aid in the aeration of tea bush root systems and provide a habitat for native creatures.
   Guranse serves as a green leaf processing facility for tea farmers tending small plots in extremely remote areas. Seventy-three farmers formed a cooperative in order to sell their product in larger quantities-approximately three tons of green leaf per day during the growing season. I arrived at the tail end of the growing season, so most of the leaf that had been brought to Guranse had already been processed. The estate manager gave me a tour of the processing facility, which produces approximately 66,000 pounds of black tea per year. We removed our shoes and walked upstairs where several long wooden troughs containing metal screens filled the dimly lit withering room. The green leaf is placed in the troughs where the temperature and airflow through the screens is carefully regulated and monitored every hour in order to achieve desired results. After 12-13 hours of withering, 60-70 percent of the moisture in the green leaf has been removed. From there, the leaves are dropped down a shoot into the rolling machines waiting in the cavernous room below. The rolling process ruptures the cell walls of the tea leaves. The standard speed is 42 revolutions per minute, but can be adjusted down to 35 revolutions per minute. After rolling, the oxidation process begins, which allows the flavor to develop. To halt the oxidation process, the leaves are put into huge coal fired driers. The driers at Guranse can process approximately 176 pounds of leaf per hour. Each batch is dried between 15 and 24 minutes, varying from season to season, tea to tea. At this point, the green leaf has become tea and is sorted first by machine, then by hand. I climbed the ladder of a sorting machine, which is essentially a massive sifter with varying-sized holes for the tea to pass through. The tea is sorted into four categories: whole leaf, broken, fannings and dust. Women wearing masks circled around piles of tea in the room and sorted the final product by hand using sifting baskets, picking carefully through the tea and removing any defects.
   A small group of German journalists, tea buyers and scientists joined me the next day at the estate. Tea farmers and their families in the co-op were on their way to Guranse to meet us and share their stories. The paved road ended in Hile, a tiny village just a few miles from Guranse. The farmers had left at 7 a.m. and rode in the back of an open truck for six tortuous hours along the virtually impassable bumpy dirt track. Though they must have been exhausted from the trip, the farmers greeted us with smiles and were extremely appreciative of the opportunity to meet with us. The Germans and I felt the privilege was ours.
   We gathered in a circle alongside the estate office and were immediately served sweetened tea, or chiya, and social barriers began to melt away. The farmers initiated the conversation by expressing their gratitude to Suraj and Guranse, who had helped form their cooperative and implemented social programs to assist them.
   During the dry season, the roads to Guranse were barely passable. Throughout the monsoon, however, washed out can roads hamper farmers' efforts to bring their product to market. When trucks are unable to make the trip, the tea sent to Guranse for processing can drop from 4000 pounds to 3300 pounds per week, with much of it spoiled. At an average annual family income of around $200 U.S in Nepal, massive financial undertakings such as road construction over rough terrain are nearly impossible. The farmers stated that financial assistance was being acquired from India due to lack of help from the Nepali government in this dilemma.
   Some of the farmers came from the village of Surma, which has been producing tea for nearly 20 years, but had experienced great difficulty in finding a market for their product prior to forming a cooperative and a relationship with Guranse. Additionally, many of the farmers in the group did not have previous experience in tea and as a result of the adolescence of their operations, the farmers had yet to realize a profit. Drawing from their agricultural experience, resourceful farmers supplement their incomes and add to the biodiversity of the region by planting spices such as cardamom. They are considering growing oranges and coffee as well.
   The yield of green leaf from individual farmers varies, from one kilogram to 2200 pounds, making the idea of forming of a cooperative appealing to everyone. Each member puts 2000 Nepalese rupees a year (about $30 U.S.) into the membership fund. These funds are used for adaptive research in nurseries, education, training and irrigation equipment. Clones are donated from the nurseries at Guranse as well as distributed by the HOTPA. In addition, farmers are regularly called to a central location to undergo training, as new farmers join the co-op every year. Their ultimate production goals are to have 185 acres of plantation among the members and to maintain their own processing units. Transportation of green leaf is done by Guranse, which purchases the green leaf at 23-and-a-half rupees per kilogram. Green leaf production has increased from 8800 pounds in 1998 to an estimated 105,000 pounds in 2004-encouraging numbers for hopeful farmers.
   Following our discussion, Suraj gathered the farmers for some food. Once they were nourished, the Germans and I joined them in planting small tea plants. We knelt side by side on the ground and dug holes in the earth with our hands. Not having a green thumb, I was assisted by a smiling farmer, a seasoned expert. This was a symbolic event that will be forever burned in my memory.
   We were taken to the on site cupping laboratory to taste the tea produced by the hard working hands of the visiting farmers. The tea was full of fuzzy tips and filled with colorful shades of green, brown and red which formed a golden cuppa. The brew was more delicious than any black tea I had tasted up to that point. Perhaps it was the fact that I was on a tea estate with the farmers and Himalayas watching over me. My feelings were validated when an expert German tea buyer's face showed the approval of someone whose taste buds had met with something fantastic.
   As the sun began to set, I organized my gear in the tent and prepared for the chilly night ahead. As if to add insult to injury for the farmers in the back of the open truck, dark clouds rolled in and it began to hail. Suraj quickly jumped into a four-wheel drive and raced up the road to retrieve the farmers. He arranged rooms for some of them in homes in nearby Hile and returned with a large group. We packed inside the small house to warm up and seek refuge from the fearsome hailstorm outside. The staff prepared seemingly endless mountains of food and served hot tongba, an interesting alcoholic beverage reminiscent of Japanese sake, made from fermented millet.
   In the morning, I woke with the roosters. The sun had just kissed the horizon and the women in the village around Guranse were filling their water buckets from the spring water tap nearby. They sang quietly while they worked and children prepared for school. Suraj emerged from his tent shortly after and one of his staff brought us some tea to help shake off the chill. The clouds and fog from the evening before had burned off and made way for a bright, clear morning. Suraj suggested a ride up the road to a village where we could watch the sunrise over the Himalayas and get a view of 27,765-foot Mount Makalu, the fifth highest mountain in the world. It is an isolated peak, located just 14 miles east of Mount Everest. Part of the reason I was interested in visiting Nepal was to catch a glimpse of its mountains. We headed up the road, eventually passing the farmers, who were making their morning trek home. They waved and smiled as we passed and I felt privileged to have taken part in their lives. The ride was so slow going that school children kept pace with us, teasing us for a ride in the four-wheel drive. Finally we reached another village and Suraj brought me to a nearby overlook. The view was incredible: The Himalayas stretched out across the horizon as a snaking path of morning fog kept true to the river's path that it covered. Each moment the colors changed, ranging from orange to purple along the craggy faces of the frozen peaks.
   Suraj drove back to Guranse to retrieve the Germans so that they could take part in the beautiful scene as well. As I took in the air, I quickly realized that I was a lone Westerner in a village of people whose language was virtually unknown to me. Cautious children crept around the corner of a hill to inspect the stranger that was observing their amazing playground. As they surrounded me, inquiring in their native language, I wanted to somehow communicate with them. I showed them the screen of my digital camera-perhaps a stereotypical solution-which had translated the view into a tiny image. Their eyes grew huge with excitement, as they instinctively crammed together in hopes of capturing themselves as well. I took their lead and showed them the results. They erupted in laughter and insisted that I continue digitizing their antics. They led me to their mothers who were making tea in a small hut across the road. I was invited to sit down and share my photos with them as they offered me tea and anxiously practiced their English, which was considerably better than my Nepali. Despite the drastic cultural and language barrier, I was welcomed and treated as an honored guest. Eventually, Suraj and the Germans arrived and enjoyed the scenery for themselves as I watched a ball game being played in the village.
   Shortly thereafter, Suraj took us up to another sector of the tea plantation to see mature plants that had recently been plucked. We walked among the rows and rows of determined tea bushes that clung to the winding hillsides hoping to survive another year. He talked about the future and the importance of what they as farmers are trying to do. He accepts the financial challenges and sees tea as a part of the solution to end the Maoist insurgency that has plagued his struggling country. In his view, the outlook is quite positive. The incredible work ethic of the Nepali people was apparent everywhere I looked. They understand their need for outside assistance in order to move forward, but are extremely committed to finding ways to be self-sufficient. Though I only visited one tea estate in Nepal, the Germans shared that this phenomenon was visible throughout the country. The tremendous pride in what they do to secure their own future contains important lessons and garners my ultimate respect. The experience left me with confidence that the farmers of this tiny nation will strive to produce a quality product and carve out a well-earned place for themselves in the world of tea.



David Drouin is the art director of Fresh Cup. Comments on this article may be sent to comments@freshcup.com.

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