The few roads in the Darjeeling high country were notorious for their steepness and narrowness. We finally arrived at the tea estate around 2:00 p.m. I walked up the steps to the manager’s house, knocked on the door, and asked the housekeeper if I could speak to him. I was shown into the living room. Managers lived rather well, from what I could see.
I explained who I was and then said, “I don’t want to disrupt your operations, but I would like to visit the workers’ quarters and see if there are any family members that I can query about rash-and-fever cases.” Also, I understood that the workers brought in the tea around 4:00 p.m., and I asked if I could I talk to them about smallpox.
He gave permission and then said, “After you see the workers, please come back to the big house for tea.” I wholeheartedly agreed, because I wanted to taste some good Darjeeling tea. Maybe he could enlighten me about where to buy some. I couldn’t find one shop in all Darjeeling that carried it, which was strange.
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