Lao Ban Zhang Revisited

Plucking out the huang pian, without touching the tea

For this, our 50th blog post, I thought I would spend some time to write a special report on Lao Ban Zhang, one of the most sought after puer teas in the world. Belle and I first visited Lao Ban Zhang in 2011, finding a remote tea village high up in the Bulang mountain range, flooded with sudden wealth, and in the midst of a building boom. Today that village is one of the richest in Banna, if not all of Yunnan. As reported in our account of the 2013 Spring puerh harvest, Lao Ban Zhang has held onto its crown as the king of puer producing regions, primarily because of the extraordinary taste and tea energy it gives its drinkers.

Lao Ban Zhang's astronomic rise from rags to riches has taken less than a decade. It's a story that parallels the meteoric rise of China itself. All over China, the newly rich are rediscovering traditional Chinese culture, including tea & incense appreciation, calligraphy & porcelain collecting. Nowhere else on earth has so many tea markets and specialty stores dedicated to the humble leaf. Our home in Shanghai is within walking distance of two major tea markets, which together boast around 200 tea stores. So it's no surprise that the very best teas are becoming priceless luxuries, treasured as works of art, not a humble thirst quencher.

Stopping the freshly fried leaves from sticking together

Whilst many ardent puer drinkers decry the sudden price inflation of mother nature's gifts, there is something special happening in Lao Ban Zhang, that is rather positive for the whole puer industry. The farmers have self organized and set rules to protect how the tea is produced, and how the trees are to be cultivated and maintained for future generations. One of their main challenges, is guarding against outside tea infiltrating the village. Currently the farmers have very little recourse against the multitude of sellers peddling counterfeit Lao Ban Zhang, but they can at the very least, stop their own from profiteering by blending in cheaper material from outside the appellation. Regular patrols and checkpoints have been set up to stop outsiders bringing maocha into the village.

We chatted with a local boy Er Da, who is part of a team of 20 guards setup to prevent smuggling. They had recently caught an outsider from Hunan trying to bring in 30kg of fresh leaves, and fined him RMB 65,000 ($10,590 US dollars). Some say the majority of fake Lao Ban Zhang is produced in Menghai. Just print a wrapper with Lao Ban Zhang on the label, slap it on any tea you like, and away you go. Much easier than trying to sneak leaves into the village. This has a ring of truth to it, yet the fact that smugglers are still being caught suggests the borders of Lao Ban Zhang remain relatively amorphous and porous.

A glimpse of the traditional way of life in Lao Ban Zhang

Not everyone in Lao Ban Zhang has an equal holding. The farmers here only started owning land from 1998, when the communal land was privatised & divided by lucky draw, according to household headcount. The more people in your family, the more land & trees you got. Because it was a lottery, each family received several small plots on different parts of the mountain. Some got older, and better tasting trees than others. Back then LBZ tea was less than $1 US dollar per kilo, by 2003 it was just under $2, by 2005 it was $65, and by 2007 it was $150. Today, LBZ maocha sells for $814 a kilo.

Despite this astronomical increase, the desperate days of living poor, are still in recent memory. It's staggering to think that less than 20 years ago, they had to grow their own food for survival, as their tea was worth less than potatoes.

An old "rou nian" tea rolling machine, partly made from wood!

But with wealth, comes outsourcing and automation of tea production. Many of Lao Ban Zhang's ethnic Hani families now pay Dai minority women from the lowlands to help pick their tea trees. It was the empire building Dai who pushed the Hani tribes up into the hills centuries ago, so it is a somewhat poetic reversal of the traditional power structure. The Dai women are bused in each morning, spend the day picking tea, are fed at dusk, and then bused back out in the evening.

In another challenge to tradition, it is now common to use a "rou nian" machine to roll the fried tea leaves. The locals argue that this back breaking monotonous work is better done by a machine, which cannot get tired, and produces a more consistent level of rolling. This gives each family more time to spend on getting the wok frying right, which they claim is the more technically challenging process, the crucible in which the expert hands of a master decides if a tea will be great, or just mediocre.

Here in Lao Ban Zhang, the art of "sha qing" (kill green) has been taken to a new level, with farmers switching to innovative bronze woks, and increasing the sha qing times to 40 minutes per load. First the tea is fried for 20 minutes in the bronze wok. The bronze provides a more even dispersal of heat, reducing burnt leaf edges. Then the tea is moved to an iron wok for 20 mins, which improves the fragrance, in the same way that cooking with iron improves the flavor of food. Whilst I am a traditionalist, I find their willingness to try new methods refreshing, and the tea really is bloody good quality.

Kill-green enters the bronze age

In many ways, what makes Lao Ban Zhang fascinating is how the villagers are facing the modern world, assimilating technology & knowledge from the outside, whilst preserving elements of a tribal lifestyle. On their iPad's, next to the latest apps, are photos of their tea trees, their children, and Hani cultural events, with everyone dressed in colorful ceremonial costumes. Much has been written online about the greed & exploitation of ancient tea plantations, yet when you talk to the villagers and follow them on social media, there is a clear reverence for nature and the cycle of seasons which marks village life. While we show off our holiday destinations, fancy meals, and new purchases, they show off their harvests, festivals & handicrafts. These farmers are more educated and sensitive to the balance of nature than the tea buyers give them credit for. So much has changed for them, but not their connection to the land. It is neither exploitative nor romantic, but a pragmatic, respectful relationship.

In Lao Ban Zhang we see many signs of progress and improved farming practice. In contrast to the wild machete hacking of trees in other parts, which is intended to spur regrowth, and a higher volume flush, this branch has been pruned to prevent disease spreading. You can see the dark rot in the middle of the trunk.

Diseased tea tree branch

Walking around the tea gardens, we also see trenches dug into the ground, to stop tall stands of wild bamboo from competing with the tea trees. Bamboo is so fast growing, it aggressively sucks water and nutrients from the soil. The trenches isolate the bamboo's root systems from the clearings where tea trees grow, without killing the bamboo.

Lao Ban Zhang's Cha Wang Shu 茶王树

Protection of the trees can go too far however, as in the case of this beautiful 'king of tea trees' that has been desecrated by a hastily constructed brick wall. The exterior is clad in cheap white bathroom tiles - an eyesore that hopefully is only temporary. "The cement is no good for the soil," Er da tells us, "but it stops people harming the tree." Having seen the damage inflicted by tourists on other ancient tea trees, I can appreciate that protection is necessary, but wish there was a better way than building this hideous thing!

In a way, the wall symbolizes the clash between past and present in Lao Ban Zhang, it's in your face, the severe contrast is disconcerting. The villagers are understandably not very sentimental about the past. They love their brightly painted, new concrete homes, which to the tourist appear functional but charmless. The younger generation of farmers spend more time in Menghai town, where many have built a second home. The more entrepreneurial ones are building their own brand, opening tea shops and funding tea processing facilities in poorer villages to expand their production base. The prosperity of Lao Ban Zhang is flowing over to the rest of Bulang shan.

The new skyline of Lao Ban Zhang

One contradiction to this bright eyed adoption of the modern world, is the locals antipathy to the appalling road conditions. Although the government has taken steps to improve the road into Lao Ban Zhang, which is often closed by heavy rain or landslide, our host wishes they would just leave it alone. "Lao Ban Zhang isn't Lao Ban Zhang without that dirt track" she tells us. As a child, I imagine the bone rattling, potholed, journey was a symbolic portal separating the intimacy of village life from the endless expanse of the outside world. Bridging those two worlds with a paved road now, would be to erase that childhood sense of distance, and place. It's nice to know there is some sentimentality left in our LBZ friends after all.

Road to Lao Ban Zhang

Road to Lao Ban Zhang

Lao Ban Zhang maocha drying in the sun

The good life in Lao Ban Zhang