Posted in Ceremony and Comradery, Tea and Spirituality by Lhasha Tizer
In Tucson, Arizona summer begins earlier than in most places. We actually have 2 summers here. The first is hot and dry with temperatures well into the 100’s and the second is the Monsoon season, a time of moisture, rain, magnificent cloud formations, and thunder and lightening. It is this life giving water that once again revitalizes the high, Sonoran desert; succulents and cactus swell in size producing buds and flowers, desert plants thrive and the animals, bird life, and insects are abundant. This is the source of that wonderful Prickly Pear that so delights the ice teas blends that we enjoy.
The summer is not my favorite time of year because it means negotiating with high heat and sometimes humidity that creates some physical discomfort. But over the years I have learned to adapt and even appreciate this creation of nature. Summer here is like winter in other places, you stay indoors in the daytime and come out in the morning and evening. The city quiets down with so many people leaving on vacation, the “snow birds” are long gone, and the University is at a very minimal enrollment. The streets are empty and traffic congestion eases, this is grand.
So I make the best of those early mornings that are filled with dragonflies and hummingbirds hovering over my back yard garden as I slowly sip and savor the light green, bud abundant, elegant, Lung Ching green tea (pronounced lone jin) from China. Green and white teas are energetically cooling to the body according to Traditional Chinese medicine. So even if you drink them warm they still have this cooling effect. Anyway I am very partial to hot, brewed tea unless it is late afternoon and I need a cold pick-me -up. So I sit outside and watch the sights, I close my eyes and listen to the lyrical song of singing birds, and smell the amazing scent of the Chaparral bush emanating its distinct, pungent aroma aroused by the rain.
Posted Tue, 17 Jul 2007 23:11:00 GMT
Posted in Ceremony and Comradery, Tea’s Roots by Rebecca Sheeran
While staying in my hotel I met a lovely woman who didn’t really speak English and I spoke even less Chinese. I was able to say xie xie meaning thank you and ni hao which is hello and of course cha for tea and that was the extent of my vocabulary. She spoke more English than that but not a whole lot. This lead to quiet an adventure between a woman with great hospitality and love for helping people and another woman with such a love for tea she’d follow you anywhere if there was a promise for experiencing something new about tea.
As we attempted to communicate in the hotel she understood I was in Taiwan to learn about tea. She said ‘me my family….miaoli (a city in Taiwan)....powder tea…my family miaoli …you come?” She said tea so I followed. I immediately thought well, I ‘ve never heard that they powder tea in Taiwan only in Japan, maybe they powder it for cooking or something and I can at least see the concept of powdering tea.
So off we went on a drive to miaoli. A nice but taxing drive with two people trying to talk and not really being able to.
After arriving in miaoli, meeting the family and seeing their house (just lots of warm smilies between human strangers communicating through their eyes) we arrived at what I understood to be her sisters daughters shop. It looked like a tea shop one would come to drink tea. She took me over to a table with a ceramic bowl that had indentations in the bottom and a stick. This was my first indication that I wasn’t really going to see powdered tea processing but I remained excited to see what was next.
She brought out tea leaves, pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds, and peanuts. We put the tea leaves in the bowl and “powdered” them with the stick. After the leaves became broken up we put in the sesame seeds and ground them until they started to become more like a paste or dough. We did this with the rest of the ingredients and then she brought a powder mix (which I learned later through extensive translating efforts that the mixture was all kinds of nuts, rice, beans and herbs). After about 20 minutes we added hot water and drank. It was good.
I think because of my love for tea and the adventure and the whole process of making it I loved it. I’ve brought all the utensils and ingredients home to determine its worth. She said that on the weekends lots of local young people come and enjoy time together and making tea. Turns out it is called le cha or Thunder tea. It was a recipe from the Hakka people (the original Taiwanese people). They used this method more as a meal than anything.
My new found friend Ms. Lee and I beamed with smiles and talked with our eyes on the trip back to Taipei.
Posted Mon, 28 May 2007 18:30:00 GMT
Posted in Ceremony and Comradery, Tea’s Roots by Lhasha Tizer
Tea is naught but this:
First you heat the water,
Then you make the tea.
Then you drink it properly
That is all you need to know.
Rikyu
Having recently returned from Kyoto, Japan home of the Japanese Tea Ceremony, Chanoyu, the living presence of “hot water for tea” is alive within me. The wabi/sabi aesthetic of the many tea rooms we visited, especially those handcrafted gems of antiquity whose earthy simplicity and rusticness blend the art of both man and nature, captures the zen of tea.
Matcha the green tea powder derived from Japanese tea called Gyokuro is composed of shade grown leaves minus the stems and then steamed and ground. It is a smooth, grassy, umami flavor unique in both it’s texture and taste. Whipped either to a frothy foam in Usucha, thin tea or kneaded in to a thicker tea drink called Koicha it is always the right amount (about one-third of a cup) of hot, good quality water that makes the tea superior or inferior.
Being present to watch the tea being made and all the preparation involved in making a simple bowl of tea is what makes the experience so profound. In our book Tea Here Now Chapter 5 The Japanese Tea Ceremony we say:
”...Chanoyu teaches us to move slowly treating every utensil as a prized possession, and helps the body to absorb these movements through artful, focused repetition. When the whisk for whipping the tea into a frothy foam is set down on the mat, it is placed just so, as we move from our center with our hands, arms, and even each finger in a certain manner. We breathe keeping our head straight, allowing our shoulders to be relaxed, and not forgetting that the tea is being made for a special guest.”
Posted Wed, 28 Feb 2007 01:59:00 GMT
Posted in Ceremony and Comradery, Ceremony and Comradery by Lhasha Tizer
Around the world it is well known that tea is only second to water to quench thirst. When dining out in Kyoto and Taiwan the first thing that is served when you sit down is ocha; we call it tea. Cha is word used most often when tea is spoken of. I was amazed and pleased to discover that water was the drink we always had to ask for.
It seems so civilized and appropriate to first be served tea when you sit down. Not only does it quench our thirst but it revives us, appeases our appetite temporarily, it warms our body when cold, relaxes our muscles, and most of all it soothes. Ocha in Kyoto was either hojicha, genmaicha, and sometimes sencha. This is everyday tea in Japan and to me it was a treat. Of course the quality varies and at times it would be very weak, probably having been steeped several times(and then caffeine free) and other times it was fresh, vital, delicious. The nutty character of the roasted tea has a very nourishing aspect.
In Taiwan the same tradition exists, but the tea we drank would more often be an oolong, black tea, or sometimes green. In Taiwan the tea served appeared to match the region we were visiting and what was most common to that area. Drinking tea with food seems to let the digestive juices flow. I did ask for water at times and yet ocha was able to most often able to quench my thirst on more than the physical level. I think we call this sate satisfaction!
Posted Mon, 05 Feb 2007 18:01:00 GMT
Posted in Ceremony and Comradery, Ceremony and Comradery by Lhasha Tizer
Around the world it is well known that tea is only second to water to quench thirst. When dining out in Kyoto and Taiwan the first thing that is served when you sit down is ocha; we call it tea. Cha is word used most often when tea is spoken of. I was amazed and pleased to discover that water was the drink we always had to ask for.
It seems so civilized and appropriate to first be served tea when you sit down. Not only does it quench our thirst but it revives us, appeases our appetite temporarily, it warms our body when cold, relaxes our muscles, and most of all it soothes. Ocha in Kyoto was either hojicha, genmaicha, and sometimes sencha. This is everyday tea in Japan and to me it was a treat. Of course the quality varies and at times it would be very weak, probably having been steeped several times(and then caffeine free) and other times it was fresh, vital, delicious. The nutty character of the roasted tea has a very nourishing aspect.
In Taiwan the same tradition exists, but the tea we drank would more often be an oolong, black tea, or sometimes green. In Taiwan the tea served appeared to match the region we were visiting and what was most common to that area. Drinking tea with food seems to let the digestive juices flow. I did ask for water at times and yet ocha was able to most often able to quench my thirst on more than the physical level. I think we call this sate satisfaction!
Posted Mon, 05 Feb 2007 18:01:00 GMT
Posted in Ceremony and Comradery by Lhasha Tizer
I am fresh from traveling to Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan, and the center of Chanoyu, the Japanese Way of Tea, the traditional Japanese tea ceremony. We also visited Taiwan the heartland of many of the world’s finest and rare Oolong teas. Impressed by so many alluring sights and sounds what has remained with me most is the friendliness and generous hospitality of our tea hosts.
In our book Tea Here Now chapter 8, Sharing Tea: the essence of hospitality, captures and expresses this quality that we derive from tea drinking:
“Showing sincere friendliness, generosity , and consideration for all who enter our world is the hospitality of tea. The word “hospitality“ derives from the same root word as “hospital,“ originally a place of shelter and rest for travelers. Whether we offer tea to a weary traveler or invite a guest to a fancy tea party, the act of opening our hearts and homes to another touches the essence of our humanness. The sharing of tea provides nourishment, creates comfort, and puts all at ease.“
Whether we were served a frothy, green bowl of Japanese matcha in the ceremonial tea room by a fellow chajin or a hearty cup of Japanese hojicha with sweets in a wabi-style teahouse, or when we visited the tea farmers at Tung Ting mountain and sipped fragrant jade green oolong tea with them our experience was the same—tea creates a bond of friendship between us. So potent was this experience that now when I sit to have my morning cup of tea I remember the smiling faces and gracious gestures of these wonderful tea friends.
Perhaps for part of your New Years resolution you will give yourself the gift of shared tea time. The next time you prepare to drink a cup of tea consider if you would better appreciate it with an other? Join them for an outing to The Tea Grotto or for a spontaneous drop-in to your home. Bring joy to life with tea!
Posted Sat, 20 Jan 2007 00:27:00 GMT