Rolling in the hills

To make most of our day we woke up early, made a quick breakfast and headed out in Patrick’s car with his friend Michel. Our destination was Banská Štiavnica, a small medieval town in the central region of Slovakia. It’s known for its historical buildings and is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. On the way, we made a few pit stops at scenic viewpoints. 

Rolling hills of Central Europe

We stopped at a restaurant on our way into town, which was recommended to us. Unlike the more traditional Slovakian restaurants that had similar menus, the Penzion Na Kopci not only had a female chef, but she was known to brake a few rules when it came to Slovakian cuisine. Her menu is less conventional, as it combines traditional dishes with a more international flair. We all started with some venison pate served with wildberry compote. The boys followed this up with the Pyramida: roasted chicken breast, pork fillet, chicken liver, Ermine cheese and a roquefort sauce. Laura had the baked camembert served with a creamy blueberry sauce, whilst I was glad to see some fish on the menu, so ordered potatoes stuffed with smoked salmon and sour cream.  

Venison pate

Pyramida

Baked camembert

Stuffed potatoes

The food was fantastic. It was fresh, different and really well thought out. The flavours were well balanced and the meal didn’t feel overly heavy compared to more traditional Slovakian cuisine we had tried before. Our view from where we were sat on the terrace of the restaurant was also rather breathtaking. 

Banská Štiavnica

After lunch we went to a cute little coffee shop where we ordered coffee as well as every cake on the menu. We had two cakes each. Gluttonous? Not at all! 

Time slipped away fast, and there was still so much to see. We hopped back in the car and headed to one of the nearby lakes, Velka Vindsachta. We chilled there for a little bit, then headed back towards Krupina to pick up Michel’s girlfriend then headed over to his family farm. 

Velka Vindsachta

On arriving to the farm, we were greeted by three of Michel’s family members sat outside around a large vat of boiling water, plucking three plump headless chickens. Their father was in the barn milking the family cow. We had a tour of the farm, but unfortunately I was unable to take any decent pictures as it was already dark by now. This is the best of a bad bunch. Some very cute curious sheep.

Curious sheep

Proximity Design, Yangon

A month ago, I was fortunate enough to have visited Proximity Design’s Office in Yangon, the winners of the CurryStone Design award 2013. Their approach to design for change is inspirational, not only because of their direct relationship with rural communities, but also because of the ingenuity of their designs. Proximity Design use the Human Centred Design (HCD) model when creating now products for their users. This requires living and working with their customer to develop live prototypes through participatory discussions and activities. This allows the designers to really empathise with their customers, which should inspire them to create products that are specialised to their needs as well as their budgets.

When talking to Jim Taylor, co-founder of Proximity Design, I began to realise the actual scale of the social enterprise and their operation. Not only had they successfully produced and distributed more than 110,000 irrigation pumps, water storage units and drip irrigation sets around Myanmar, but are also expanding to provide more services to their customers including financial services, farm advisory services, and are in the process of developing a solar energy range for use on the farm. At the time of my visit I was shown their latest design, a solar powered water pump, the cheapest in the world and soon to be sold to farmers. One project I found extremely interesting was a project being conducted by the graphics team who were working on information handouts that would be easily legible by farmers who are often illiterate and/or have eyesight problems. This included using HCD to develop clear graphics and a new font that would help communicate vital information to the farmers about how to use their products.

The range of products available allows small-scale farmers to increase yields sustainably, making such investments immensely beneficial. The products give farmers a reason to continue and expand their farming practices, hopefully considering it a viable means of making a living. Myanmar is extremely lucky to have a high water table, although there is often a minor problem of accessing, storing and distributing water on small farms. The range of products offered by Proximity Design allows for farmers to solve this problem and distribute water evenly throughout their farm, with little effort and also without relying on an unsustainable energy sources.

The staff at the organisation were a mixed bunch of young hip Mayanmese with different degrees and background. Jim told me that this was vital to create an innovative environment. I couldn't agree with him more, it seemed like the dynamic mix of engineers, social designers, innovators, anthropologists, and financial specialist made for the perfect knowledge base for the HCD process. This video explains a little bit more about this process and how Proximity Design use HCD to help rural farmers with their design of the foot pump which won the CurryStone award last year:

Street Market, Yangon, Myanmar

Myanmar, described as the final frontier of Asia. Still in the early stages of development, the country is vulnerable to external exploitations and this is being seen in the heavy influx of foreign investers who all want a cut of the virgin pie.

I am visiting my parents who have moved to Yangon last September (for some of this humble pie) and can not help feeling like I am part of the problem. Listening to expats whine and moan about the poor water quality, the lack of sanitation and the communication issues they have with their drivers is a little tiresome and frustrating. Worse still is the insistent trips to the only three air-conditioned malls/super-markets with "proper coffee", "sugar-free bread" and "cheese". I needed to escape and see what lay beyond Western Superficiality. So I took a trip down-town with chef Tuk Tuk from Horizon Golf Club, and ventured beyond the pagodas and river boats into the busy narrow streets of old Yangon. What I found was the most diverse variety of food, colour, and smells I had experienced since my arrival.

With 80% of the population still relying on agriculture as their main source of income, I truly hope this variety continues as Yangon develops, especially as padi-fields and farms around the city are being gobbled up by factories and high rise buildings. Like similar Asian cities, as competition increases with economic growth, there could be a reduction in variety of produce and an increase in more intensive agricultural practices. I wonder how this would effect the livelihoods of low-input agricultural farmers that supply majority of the city's fresh produce.

The polite patient nature of the Burmese people is something we could all learn from, but I feel it could also be detrimental when it comes to resisting the exploitation of human and environmental rights that are not being stripped by the government, but by foreign hands.

I dont want this post to be overly political. I would just like to show people what is worth preserving...

One of the many market streets in Down Town Yangon

Vegetables

Garnishes

Roots...  

...More Roots... 

...And Pickled Roots

Dried Mushrooms

Achari (Pickles)

Dried Chilli 

Fish Products

Chicken with all the bits and bobs

Live Eels

Fish, prawns, squid, clams and cray fish

Lobster and Langoustine 

Ice!!!

Pig and all the bits and bobs

Flowers

Indoor fish and meat market

Fruit 

Rambutan

Typical street in Old Yangon

Kericho Tea

Unilever Tea Estate, with the Mau forest in the background  

Tea (or ‘chai’ in Swahili) plays a big role in Kenyan culture whilst also being the country’s largest export. Luckily enough Kenya grows more then it consumes and so has plenty to export around the world. Majority of Kenyan tea comes from Kericho, a small, but extremely lush county west of the rift valley. The high altitude, cool climate and fertile soil helps produce some of the world’s most desirable black tea: rich in flavor and dark in colour.

Most of the tea plantations in Kericho are owned by large companies; Unilever, Brook Bonds, and James Finlay. Since the beginning of large-scale tea production in the 1930s, these companies have dominated the Kenyan Tea market, buying out acres of land for the production of tea. These vast areas, called “tea estates”, can be seen east of Kericho town, on the way to Nairobi. As well as processing factories and small offices, tea estates also have housing facilities for their workers, majority of whom have traveled from around the country to be part of this lucrative industry.

As with most tea estates around the world, the carpet of green tea gardens as far as the eye can see is a sight to behold. Dotted with trees, and maybe the odd factory or two, one begins to comprehend the drastic impact humans have had on our natural environment. The exploitation of the land for harvesting cash crops is only realised when one visits the Mau forest which once extended from Western Kenya through to Uganda, Rawanda and all the way to the Congo. This once dense forest was cut down by the British to make way for the rolling tea plantations. The same vast tea estates are also largely responsible for the growth in Kenya’s economy, putting it on the international trade map.  

If you were to go east of Kericho town, you will see an entirely different tea landscape. Here, smaller patches of tea gardens pop up amongst forests and farmland. This is where smallholding tea farmers live, and have lived for generations. The people here are indigenous Kipsigis people who started to grow Tea when the British first introduced it around a century ago. Majority of the farmers make most of their living from tea production, and tend to have a number of buyers they supply to. This keeps prices competitive as well as ensuring high quality tea.

Kareena's Family Tea Plantation, mid morning

I visited Kericho with a good friend of mine in early July 2013. We stayed with a friend of ours called, Kereena, whose family owned a smallholding tea farm. Her grandfather, who gave each son a portion to grow tea on, had divided the land up. This subsequently will happen to Kereena and her brothers and sisters. It does make one question though, how much can a land be divided before it loses its value?  

Walking around the family plantation with Mama Kareena and Kareena's cousins 

We walked around the family plantation, which seemed well organised and easy enough to navigate. Amongst the tea gardens were fruit trees and designated areas for growing maize. We were told that the tea bushes never stop producing tealeaves, as long as they are maintained well, which means regular pruning. The bushes should never exceed 4 meters. Kareena’s granddad first planted the Tea bushes in the sixties. The same tea bushes still exist and still produce high quality tealeaves.

Tea pickers

Due to the enormity of their tea gardens, Kareena’s parents outsourced a few local women to pick leaves on their behalf. I was told that an average picker could pluck up to 50kg of leaves a day. As the tea pickers are paid by weight, they are expected to pick about 6-10kg an hour to earn a decent wage. Unlike on the tea estates, where scissors are used, these women picked the tea by hand, which ensures only the best leaves are picked and no that no leaves are damaged in the process.

Plucking tea

Picking tea by hand is a skill to master. It needs a good eye and a couple of speedy hands. Only the top two leaves on the plant should be picked, leaving some stem. This is called a “fine plucking”. 

"fine plucking"

The leaves are collected and then taken to buying stations where the bags of leaves are randomly sampled, weighed and the farmer is given some money in exchange for the tea they have picked. Prices can range from 15ksh – 60ksh (12p – 48p) per kilo depending on the buying company.

We went to visit one of the more ethical buying and processing companies in the area that Kareena’s family supply to:

Tegat Tea Factory, Kericho

The Tegat Tea Factory was initially built in 1971 by the James Finley co. It was later bought three years later, in 1974, by the Kenyan Tea Development Agency, the leading management agency for small scale tea farmers in Kenya. This means that the factory and the running of operations is owned and controlled by the farmers, who select the board members and have the largest stake in the company.

The tea processed by the factory comes from approximately 9000 different farmers all within a 12km radius of the factory. Consistency is maintained by the KTDA who regularly visit farmers and their farms to ensure high standards are kept. They also supply the farmers with any farming inputs they may need, like fertilisers and seeds. This is all supported by the Kenyan Tea Research Foundation who are consistently developing better and more efficient ways of growing tea.

The Tegat Tea Factory processes between 20,000 – 100,000 kg of leaves a day. Most of the tea is exported to the UK, Pakistan, Egypt and even Afganistan. Companies that buy the tea, include Tetleys, Lipton, and Taylors of Harrogate. The tea is Rain Forest Alliance Certified, which makes it highly desirable by tea companies that want to appeal to the new “ethical market”. Unsurprisingly enough, most of the smallholding farms had to go through little or no changes to achieve this status.

The processing of the tea takes around 3hr from start to finish:

Leaves are dried over fans for 2hrs

The leaves are then chopped and rotated, then fermented by being oxidised 

The leaves still have 65% moisture content, this is removed by steam drying five times 

The tea comes out ungraded and is perfectly suitable for human consumption at this point. Although for the international market, the tea has to be graded, not according to taste (as it all tastes the same) but according to size: 

Grade1: larger leaf, creates a light liquor; Grade2: Medium Leaf, creates a semi thick liquor; and Grade3: small leaves, creates a thick liquor.

The tea is graded using a large sieve which separates the tea into it’s three different grades.

Now, this only matters because different countries have different preferences and trends for their tea. For example, in the UK teabags are the preferred method, and because the tea only need a short time in water, grade 3 leaves are used. In Pakistan, where lose tea is brewed in a pot, grade 1 leaves are used. 

Large sieve which grades the tea

Grading tea is a curtail stage as prices for each grade change according to market demand. This inevitably affects the price of the other grades. This can be witnessed first hand at the largest Tea Trading House in the world which in on the East Coast of Kenya in the port city of Mombasa. Here is where tea is tasted, and bought before entering the world market. 

Graded Tea: (left to right) grade 1, grade 2 and grade 3

Once the tea is graded and packed, it is ready for transporting around Kenya and the world. Kenya only consumes 2% of the tea it produces. The other 98% is exported. For every 5kg of raw leaves you get 1kg of the final product. Tegat alone processed 15,000,000kg of raw tea leaves in 2012, and this is from one of the smaller tea factories in Kericho!

As one of the world’s largest consumers of tea, the UK has a vested interest in tea production globally. As demands grow, we need to think about how they can best be met. Are we willing to sacrifice quality? Will we sacrifice Mother Nature? Or are we even willing to sacrifice our much loved commodity? I was really inspired by how Tegat and the KTDA were managing tea production to meet international markets. Their approach which put small scale farmers in control, not only ensures less land degradation but also allows empowers farmers to make the right choices when it comes to the management of their tea production.  

Sunset over smallholding tea plantations, Kericho

As our time in Kericho came to an end we watched the sun set over the tea planations whilst tea pickers walked home, I began to realise how important the tea industry is to Kenya. As the country’s largest export for the last forty years, tea has help shaped Kenya into one of the most powerful countries on the continent. As this. continues, I hope more and more that we will see more factories like Tegat, which will give Kareena’s family the opportunity to buy more smallholdings for future generations. The tea we love so much is also a means to a living for many people around the world. Choosing and supporting the right brand is not only good for the farmers, but also for the environment and most importantly for the future of the industry. Maybe that next time I chose which tea I want in my cup, I will think about what kind of future Kareena and her family would like for the future of tea production in Kenya. 

True Swahili Hospitality

Culinary appreciation takes a while to develop here in Mombasa. It has taken me two months to value Swahili food, and it’s not because the food is bad by any means, but because the variety available is not so obvious at first glance. With time I have come to understand that diversity comes with different locations. What people eat in Mombasa city is very different to what people eat in rural Mombasa. The people in the city come from all over Kenya and put preference on convenience, which is reflected in the food they eat. But go to the slow paced rural areas of Mombasa, and this is where you will find true Swahili food. The Swahili people are descendants of Arabic settlers and the indigenous Bantu people of Sub-Saharan Africa. They are hospitable, laid back, and very resourceful. Visiting these rural areas, you are forever reminded of the cross breed of cultures in the food they eat.

A recent visit to a small farm in Diani, the south coast of the Mombasa, was a perfect example of Swahili culture. We went to visit a group of farmers who were finding that their farm was too reliant on farming inputs. They were looking at ways of reducing this with assistance from a Japanese intern called Toshihiro Yoshida. Toshi’s task is a big one, and I wanted to see how he plans on overcoming these problems, by visiting the farm and talking to the farmer group.

Walking to the farm

Our journey began on the main tourist strip of Diani, where we were met by Toshi, who led us down a dirt track and away from the fancy beach hotels. As we headed inland, we noticed, that coral rocks still made up much of the ground. This is a problem for many farmers in the area as the coral that runs deep into the ground makes farming difficult, whilst also contributing to serious flooding during the rainy seasons because of it’s impermeable nature.We strolled through lush vegetation and darker soil for about 30 minuets. As we head towards the farm, we began to notice the plants around us: mango trees, coconut trees, cashew trees, maize and cassava. Hardy plants that are common across the Indian Ocean. Settlers introduced many of these plants to the coastal area for their ability to grow in tough conditions. Salty water and sandy soil has meant that there is little variety when it comes to growing fruit and vegetables. The difficult environment also means that only a few varieties of introduced crops have actually survived.

Toshi and Kursheui

When we arrived at the farm, Kursheui, the Chief farmer of the Mwakamba Farmer Group greeted us and introduced us to the rest of the farmers that comprised of both women and men. We talked about the lack of rain, and the expected yield of the season’s produce. We then discussed problems faced by the farmers with regards to their reliance on external inputs and considered ways of reducing this. As we talked, they began to reveal other problems: too much diversification, unpredictable weather and member fallouts. We took a look around their farm and noticed signs of trailed and failed projects: a big greenhouse; water tanks; a well with no pump; and an empty chicken coup. Classic examples of projects that have had heavy foreign investment but no post monitoring. A common problem in Africa. 

Mwakamba Greenhouse

This aside, (I don't really want to delve into the politics of agricultural development in this post), the farmers were very happy to consider our suggestions. We drew diagrams in the dirt to explain how they could make their own manual pump for the well, harness rainwater, and create their own compost heap. Communication can sometimes be hard, but in this case it was extremely hard as we had three languages in the group: Swahili, English and Japanese.

To show their gratitude we were treaded to a feast of fresh produce from the farm. We began with freshly gathered cashews. I had never really thought about how cashews grow, so I was really surprised to see this:

Cashew fruit growing on tree

Cashew fruit and pod

The cashew fruit smelt deliciously sweet when cut into. But because it was under ripe, it was extremely sour, and the skin was a little bit chalky. Despite this, I liked it. It was refreshing and juicy, which was exactly what we needed after three hours in the sun.

We then took our cashew pods and roasted them whole. This took as little as ten minuets. The tricky part was cracking the pods. Their exterior shell is extremely tough, which makes getting out the nut intact rather hard.

Raw cashews in their pods

Geting the cashews out of their pods, roasted

Roasted cashews

I can honestly say that freshly roasted cashews, straight out of their pods, are in my top five flavour experiences. The texture, the warmth and the nutty flavour was just incredible. I sat there in silence with the biggest smile on my face.

After this, we uprooted a cassava (mogo) plant and pulled off the edible roots. We rinsed them and peeled off the exterior then began munching on the white flesh. The milky starchiness of the root was thirst quenching, like sugar cane, whilst also being distinctly rooty… or earthy. Like maize, cassava can be ground into flour and is used to make mogo ugali, mogo bread and mogo ugi. It can also be boiled, roasted… and my favourite: thinly sliced, deep fried then sprinkled with chilly powder, salt and heavily limed. 

Peeling fresh casava

To top this off, a small semi dried coconut was collected. It was cut in half and we passed around the sweet coconut water.

Coconut

The white flesh was removed and everyone was given a piece. We were told to eat the raw cassava and coconut together and combine the two in our mouth for a third dimensional flavour… WOW! The fibrous texture of the cassava and the crunchiness of the coconut were harmonised by the simultaneous milkyness released by both counterparts. It was definitely an unforgettable flavour combination that I never would have thought of putting together.

Eating coconut and raw casava together

We refreshed at the well and as we did, Kursheui invited us to his house, which we were told was “20 minuets” away, in the adjacent coastal district of Tiwi. Without contemplation, we accepted. We said our good-byes to the other farmers and made our way by foot to Kursheui’s home.

In true African style we took the scenic route and walked “pole pole” through a few villages were we got distracted a few times and stopped and talked to people. We then came to a river crossing, where there was a man on his canoe, who, for 10 bob helped people get to the other side. “Before this, we used to cross the river by foot,” explained Kursheui. 

Crossing the saline river

We huddled into the tiny canoe and took in the surrounding beauty. On the other side we noticed these little funny guys:

Mangrove Crabs

We continued our safari in the stiffening heat for about 40 minuets, until finally we arriving to a Kurcheui’s “little” compound of self-sufficiency. A typical mud hut nestled amongst towering trees. We were taken around the compound and shown projects that Kurcheui was working on:

Natural fencing

Nursery

Sour fruit, used in cooking

Custard apples

As we relaxed under a big mango tree and sliced up a ripe mango. We talked about how Kurcheui’s father had passed down the land to him, about his future plans for the compound and his dreams to see his farming group grow.

We rested for an hour or so before heading to the local hospital for a cold soda. I noticed a few colourful murals on the wall aimed at spreading awareness about HIV. I noticed most of the people in the hospital were women, and that all were Muslim. The set up looked pretty good, and I was impressed by the accessibility for the local villages.

Poster, raising awareness about HIV

We downed our sodas and made our way to the main road. Our trip took longer then expected, but in all honestly I could have stayed longer. There was so much to learn and talk about that I felt that our trip was cut short.

Empty soda bottles

We got on our bus back to the hustle and bustle of Mombasa, and as we entered the city, I began to notice how different the Swahili culture of the city and rural areas are. The people, the language and the food of Mombasa are so different because of it's foreign influences, compared to the rural micro-culture of the rural villages.

This is what makes community specific projects important. At times when organisations are low on funding, they can hardly afford to go to the field and meet the communities they need to meet. Desktop research becomes the norm, and that connection with the community is lost. This is exactly what a great deal of organisations are suffering from. The organisation forgets about their initial intentions and gets bogged down with finding funding… and this is dangerous.

In the case of Mwakamba, they are lucky to have Toshi working closely with the farmer group over the period of two years. This integration and immersion process is vital in identifying actual community needs and implementing a sustainable project. It costs very little, or at least it should. It means that the community will eventually take control over their project with close training monitoring. Most importantly it helps preserve the community’s culture. It’s a timely process, but it means that projects last because they are community specific. Innovation not duplication is crucial.

The sincere hospitality I have experience here in Mombasa from small-scale producers is inspirational. They have all been through hard times, but despite this, they continue to welcome outsiders, such as myself. I feel like I have learnt much more then I can ever give, which makes these people are my inspiration. Asante Sana!