BLACK TEA

Words and Images by Nema Etebar

After spending over a month in Rwanda, I found myself in an off road truck, driving through the deepest forest to document one of the largest areas of tea fields in the country, the Gatare Tea Plantation, located at the border between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Rwanda has been exporting and sharing its tea with the world for many years. East Africa has textbook-perfect climate, with two rainy seasons a year, and rich volcanic soil, which creates a natural fertilizer. Mountain mists help hold the moisture close to the plants and protect them from the sun.

The Gatare plantation is owned by the Karyabwite family, which started harvesting crops ten years ago, when it founded the Rwanda Tea Trading Company (RTT). The crop is generally picked by women, and the year-round harvest allows them to earn a cash income. Eventually, 15 percent of company profits will be invested back into the community, according to plantation owners.

Each morning at 5 a.m., workers walk two hours to the fields, where they labor for seven hours, hand-picking leaves and plowing.They have a two-hour walk home, although landowners are in the midst of building them housing closer to the fields so the trip will be shorter. They also plan to build workers a school, hospital and recreational fields. But right now, employees live in small cabins with no electricity or hot water. The nearest market is a three and a half hour walk away.

Absolutely no one spoke English when I was there, so there was a huge language barrier, but with each day I slowly began to gain trust and comfort. They shared their banana beer with me, taking me on three-hour walks to visit in their homes and eat with their families, teaching me their native language, Kinyarwanda.

It was refreshing to be surrounded by miles and miles of endless elevation, calmness and silence, away from the busy streets filled with noise.

There was no heating or light other than the sun. Days were warm and nights close to freezing. I would sit by a fire, eating cooked cabbage and fall asleep around 7 p.m. I’d wake up at 5:30 a.m; and the crisp cool air and light fog felt fresh as I stood on a hilltop, the sun starting to speared across the valley, mist from the night soaking the tea leaves. In the distance, I could see the tops of old farm equipment being carried by workers as they hiked up small dirt paths leading towards fresh new tea leaves to pick and soil to pile.

Over the next 12 days I would spend time being humbled and inspired, laughing, learning and working with nature and the native Rwandese; sharing energy and smiles with amazing people in a place that will forever be etched in my memory.