The Estate Appus – a dead or dying species?

by ACB Pethiyagoda

In the past few weeks much has appeared in the newspapers about plantations: worker’s union leaders demanding wage increases for their members (with little concern for productivity); employment of estate workers’ children in estates and as domestics in town houses; and lack of employment opportunities of their choice.

These brought to mind a unique category of workers on estates – the Cook Appus of Superintendents and their Assistants. They were virtually institutions in the days of the Pukka Sahib. Some of them particularly towards the end of the era of the Plantation Raj in the mid or early 1950s were men whose fathers or perhaps even grandfathers had worked for European families.

In the estate hierarchy among the monthly paid employees, the position of Appu was somewhere close to that of the lorry driver but below a factory or field supervisor. Needless to say, the Superintendent’s Appu was superior in status to that of the Assistant Superintendent’s and so were their salaries.

These men need not have necessarily been permanent residents of the particular estate but were allocated quarters. Their wives were entitled to work on terms applicable to other women workers but most chose to sew clothes for payment or run small boutiques rather than work in the field, which both husbands and wives considered too menial for their station in life.

The man moved from one estate to another on change of employer. They carried bundles of dog-eared testimonials from previous employers stating their capabilities and reasons for leaving. Close examination of these sometimes revealed long gaps in service which were often explained away as ill health in the family. Instances were also obvious where the employee had not dared ask for a certificate from the company parted from. Or who had dared got this: “He cooked to his entire satisfaction.”

In unmarried Assistant’s or Superintendent’s bungalows, the Appu played the role of cook, butler, housekeeper, valet and, if encouraged or tolerated, a willing conveyor of the thotam pechchi (estate gossip). The Appu was boss of the second servant/s, gardener/s and tappal man, all of whom had to do his bidding.

The unmarried planter who gave his full attention to his work had no time to look into his domestic affairs unless on a rare non-working Sunday. Therefore, they depended to varying degrees on their Appu’s management of those segments of his life on the thotam which included the care of the estate furniture and his own household goods, clothes, linen etc.

It was the Appu who most often ordered groceries and foodstuff from a regular supplier or two in the nearest town with such purchases and prices being noted in a ‘pass book’ for settlement at the end of the month. Small amounts of over-expenditure, if noticed when the accounts were examined, were easily explained by the Appu’s accurate reckoning of entertainment of guests during the month. No disputes were possible; none worthwhile!

The well trained and elderly Appus were generally of Indian Tamil origin, smartly dressed in white verti and white shirt with an apron worn while at work. They were punctual, polite, alert whatever time of day or night they were summoned, and had rarely to be corrected. Hence for days on end there was little talk in the house except the formal exchange of greetings in the mornings and thank you for services rendered during the day.

These Appus could bake, steam, fry, roast meats, poultry and do fish dishes; turn out an excellent three or four course lunch or dinner and present it on a well laid table with shining cutlery and warmed crockery. However, many could not cook rice and curry to suit the local palate. For that the homegrown planter had to go to relatives or on visits to Colombo, to the Globe or Metropole in the Fort or pop into one of those fire eating places in Hospital or Chekku Street.

A model Appu was Gomesz – a Malayali Christian who in the course of his duties willingly lit the oil lamp and placed flowers in the first Buddhist shrine room in the Superintendent’s bungalow in Mayfield Estate. He had worked for two previous European families and prior to the departure of the third and the first incoming Sri Lankan unmarried Superintendent, Gomesz was asked to remain along with all the other servants on existing terms.

He agreed and so did the others. Gomesz was the epitome of a Jeeves and Man Friday rolled into one. An instance of his ingenuity – just about two weeks after the new Superintendent had assumed duties, a telephone call, on a Sunday morning when the Superintendent was away for the day, from an executive in the Colombo Agency announced that three London directors with their wives would arrive for lunch on the following Tuesday to leave after breakfast on Thursday.

The news was given to the prospective host on his return late in the evening. The first reaction was consternation; up until then as an Assistant he had not entertained directors as house guests and therefore did not have sufficient blankets and bed linen for such visitors and that many as well, to boot. Gomesz was told this.

His calm response was that he had contacted the host’s closest friend in the neighbourhood; the predicament explained; and all requirements to supplement what was at hand had already been delivered. In addition, he had discussed with the lady of that house the six meals to be served and the foodstuff ordered for collection the next morning.

Need it be mentioned that the visit went off very well, and the host even enjoyed having his bungalow overrun by Londoners?

On another occasion, among several such sudden contingencies, two men and two women had arrived on a Sunday, when the man of the house was away. The spokesperson of the four assured Gomesz they were friends of his master and requested lunch. Gomesz declined not only lunch but even entry to the bungalow.

For many months thereafter a complaint was expected but none received. Four people who thought they were smart did not realize some estate Appus were smarter!

A man who had served so well needed to be rewarded, and so he was. With a little pull here and a gentle push there a building block was obtained for Gomesz from government owned land in Nuwara Eliya in which he could settle down to his richy deserved retirement.

Recollection of these men at various levels who served so well their masters and the Agency Houses they belonged to, brings on a nostalgic feeling mixed with consternation at how situations and loyalties have changed. Sri Lankan planters when serving in foreign owned companies knew very well that profits were being sent to foreign countries. But acceptance was there; the foreigner invested and marketed and local planters helped with commitment, accountability and loyalty.

Thus both parties and hundreds of locals benefited. Binding this relationship was discipline. It was the same between house employer and employee – Superintendent and Cook Appu. The master had immense material comfort, but he worked hard- often 14 hours a day – responsible for every aspect of the estates business. The Appu knew just what he had to do, where he was slotted in. Thus the smooth running of estates and estate bungalows.

The work ethos now is shocking to many. It’s always `me’ first and then the company/department, the public, then job in hand. One major cause for this difference of how jobs were executed and institutions run, whether in the private sector or government departments and how they are managed now was the absence then of callous, interfering politicians and their jabbing often corrupt fingers into every matter!

Planters were answerable to their bosses in Colombo and plantation workers to the Assistant Superintendent or Superintendent. The hierarchy was known and strictly maintained. And so work was successfully carried out. Hiccups there certainly were, but efficiently dealt with. Now there’s invariably the interfering politicians to be considered.

(First published in The Sunday Island date not available)