Tea people

In his village of Soyam, Yaad Bahadur Limbu is known as the “tea father”. He was the first to plant tea in the village, and today, tea is its main source of income. Everyone is involved. To reach Soyam, you must cross a suspension bridge and then climb for several hours. You pass terraced rice paddies and fields of millet, and cross farmyards. When Soyam’s villagers harvest the tea leaves, they are transported on horseback. This requires four or five horses. They take the same path as the one that had me huffing and puffing, and they cross the same suspension bridge. Each horse wears a pack saddle allowing it to carry a load of 100 kilos. The caravan takes five hours to reach the factory, and must return to the village the same evening. It is a long expedition.

I have just returned from Nepal, where I had the opportunity to spend several days with my friend Andrew Gardner, who came to join me in Ilam valley. He had planned a four-hour walk for me, to reach a village of small producers. Andrew has worked on several plantations, but you could say he was the first to make very good teas in Nepal. We owe the renaissance of tea in the country to him. He started by working at Jun Chiyabari, and he is now applying his talents at Guranse. He’s passionate about what he does.

The optimal storage period can vary a great deal from one tea to another. Green teas from Japan and China do not last long, and just a few months after harvest the difference in flavour is noticeable. The same goes for first flush Darjeelings. On the other hand, what are known as dark teas, the famous Pu Ers, get better with age. Lastly, many black teas as well as the most oxidised of the Wulongs often retain their qualities for years. Like this Nepalese plucker whose smile, charm and generosity are impervious to the passing of time.