Our story begins in 1920, the year Don Samarajeeva (my husband’s father) was born in Sri Lanka.  He was the only child of a prominent tea estate owner.  To the chagrin of his father, Samarajeeva preferred books over running an estate.  He wanted to be a doctor but compromised and studied biology.  His father reasoned medicine would be too time consuming to properly run the estates.  Eventually, Samarajeeva married Francesca. Not only was she Catholic, most Sri Lankans are Buddhist, she was also Tamil.  Theirs was a true love story.  Together they raised four boys and a girl and were proud grandparents to eight granddaughters.

One of their estates was Kosgahawela, a sprawling 50 acre rubber estate in the southern province of Sri Lanka.  Hema lived and worked on this estate for an entire year to raise money to attend university in the United States.  Hema left for the U.S.A to study at Bowling Green State University (BGSU) in Ohio. Never heard of it? Neither had the lanky, bright eyed Sri Lankan boy who had never traveled outside his country; a tiny island in the Indian ocean. Suffice it to say, the harsh, cold winters of northern Ohio came as quite a shock to his “tropical” system, leading to the beard you will hear more about later.

 
Fast forward to the Fall of 1984, where I enter the picture.  Wanting to connect back to the roots of my parents, who immigrated from Austria,  I studied at the University of Salzburg through a program administered by BGSU. A friend from the program convinced me to pursue my MBA at BGSU.  Hema and I met through mutual friends during my first semester. We didn’t hit it off right away.  He was shy and his beard made him look unfriendly. Eventually though, I discovered his kind, funny personality and yes, the beard came off.  The rest is history.

Our journey was not always an easy one.  After graduation Hema returned to Sri Lanka.  For two years we lived half a world apart. This was before the internet, email, iPhone and WhatsApp.  We had to rely on snail mail and an occasional phone call.  In 1988, we realized It’s now or never.  At the time, Hema was on an assignment in London, so we decided I would meet him there and together we would travel to Sri Lanka, where we were married one month later. As a little girl I remember watching a documentary with my parents on the majestic elephants of Sri Lanka, and later as I entered my teenage years, I recall the excitement I felt every time I came across a label “made in Sri Lanka”.  I had no idea then, how I would be tied to this beautiful country.

Fast forward again, Hema’s father would eventually divide Kosgahawela between all of his children. Hema inherited 10 acres. Rubber trees require replanting after around 28 years.  During one of these replanting cycles, Hema’s father fell ill and the replanting never took place.  After sometime it was discovered that cinnamon had started growing naturally.   This brings us to K’wela, and how we got into the cinnamon business.  Thank you for reading our story.  This was written in loving memory of Samarajeeva and Francesca.