Mirror Magazine

Mirror Magazine

Tea at Great Western
By Aditha Dissanayake
Hoooot! Screeeeech! The Udarata Menike comes to a halt at the quaint little station called the Great Western. I am the only passenger to get off from my compartment. I feel like a bounty hunter in an old Western Movie - James Coburn in A Few Dollars More! Any minute I expect to hear the sound of whistling, a man on horse back, then dishoooo, the sound of a bullet piercing through the crisp cold air, perhaps to lodge deep in my heart forever.

I shake my head from side to side hoping this would shake off the images in my mind too. I blame the name of the station for these thoughts. The words Great Western inevitably brings to my mind, cowboy movies. The old clock on the wall of the station master's office chimes eleven strokes. I am sure a billion moons ago, the same clock would have sounded the same hour on a day similar to this. For a second I feel as if I have been transported back in time to the days when British planters roamed the region.

But the green coloured trooper waiting to pick me up belongs so much to the present, I find I need not struggle too hard to keep my imagination at bay - especially when driver Rohitha switches on the radio and someone begins to sing about a daffodil. The road we are on is so narrow, every passing minute I expect myself to be at the bottom of the ravine on my left. To keep my mind occupied, I begin to count the number of songs written about flowers these days, apple mal, veralu mal, pinna mal, the list seems endless.

Rohitha deposits me safe and sound, in front of the Great Western Tea factory. Inside the spacious office, I meet the manager. He introduces himself as Nishantha Abeysinghe. I try to hide my surprise. On the phone he had called himself N. P. Abeysinghe and I had expected to meet someone very much older than myself - a fatherly figure, with a pipe in his mouth and a walking stick in his hands. Little did I know that this was only the beginning of many surprises. In the next few hours, all my pre-conceived notions of how a tea factory operates would be turned upside down.

For, the Great Western is no ordinary factory that produces tea. To begin with, it is the first ever tea factory in Sri Lanka to be given the HACCP certificate.

"Has-ap?" I ask Nishantha. I am honest enough not to hide my ignorance.

"Hazard Analysis at Critical Controlling Points in Production," he explains with great patience. I write this down with equally great devotion. Young, yet efficient, and ever so serious, he takes me around the entire factory explaining in minute detail, the entire production process.

Everywhere I look, cleanliness reigns supreme. Workers are dressed in blue uniforms. Wire mesh cover the windows to prevent sparrows and other insects from contaminating the leaves while they wither, which is the first and according to Nishantha, the most important step in the process of manufacture. I am shown the workers' rest rooms, military style bunkers with lockers for those who work the night shift, which begins at two in the morning. The tiled floors are as clean as though they have never been used.

Painted paths. Arrows. Circles drawn round the legs of chairs. Piped music.

Suddenly I pick my ears when Nishantha begins to voice a string of strange words, "Seiri, Seiton, Seiso, Seiketsu, Shitsuke". The factory is operated according to the Japanese Five-S system, represented by these five words.

The result is seen on a chart on the wall where the profit line has risen sky high since these new methods have been introduced.

Lunch is at the manager's bungalow. As we drive towards the two storied white coloured building, resembling a house in a fairy tale, we pass the two SDs - sinna doreis - podi mahaththayas in everyday jargon- on their hefty motor bikes. Rukshan Ranasinghe and Channa Ikiriwatte raise their caps and salute us. Chivalry is not dead yet, I tell myself. Both of them could not be more than 26. I glance at Nishantha, who himself could not be much older than his assistant managers. "How does it feel to be so young and be in command of around 2000 acres of tea with a work force of 1000 and 45 staff members?"

"Hmmmmm... oh well..." he looks embarrassed for a minute.

"I am proud of myself and my young team, I suppose. It feels good to be in total control." Then, obviously wishing to change the subject, he points his finger towards the tea fields and asks me if I know what the best fertilizer is for a bush of tea. "Urea," comes my prompt answer. He shakes his head to say no. "Compost?" I ask with less confidence. No again. "I know! Some kind of seaweed. I read about it somewhere in the paper but can't remember the name." He shakes his head again. I give up. Then, he grins and gives the answer. "The manager's shadow."

While the faithful Aiyaavor, the appu, prepares lunch, we sit on white cane chairs on the lawn and sip homemade lemonade. Everywhere I look, I see nothing but mountains covered in different colours of green. Adam's Peak is among them, majestic and awe-inspiring. The sky is an amazing blue without a single cloud. The crisp air is more intoxicating than a glass of champagne.

I count about 50 kinds of roses adorning the edges of the lawn. "Paradise couldn't be better," I tell Nishantha and wait for him to agree. When I am met with silence I ask, "Don't you feel like Adam?" He shakes his head and says, "Not every day is as beautiful as this. Most of the time it's gloomy and misty and raining non-stop. Besides, Eve has to be here if it is to be like Paradise".

"Where is Mrs. Abeysinghe?" I ask him.

"She is working in Colombo. We meet during weekends."

His face lights up with a smile once more. "And then...?" I begin the sentence but leave it unfinished. "Then it's paradise," he agrees.

Across lunch, Nishantha explains his vision. He says Ceylon Tea has begun to lose the reputation it had enjoyed in the past. "Foreigners liked our tea for its aroma. But today, most manufacturers have begun to forget this fact. They think quantity is more important than quality. I would like to get back to the concept of the 'Bud'n two leaves' and concentrate more on the raw material like the tea leaves and produce tea with flavour and aroma. I believe I can succeed because I have the backing of the Chief Executive Officer, Mr. S. T. G. Gunatilleke and the top-management of our company."

It is three-thirty when Rohitha deposits me at the Hatton bus stand. I travel back to Colombo in a semi-luxury bus with my head filled with enough material about tea to write a thesis.

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