Tea(rs) for Two

Posted on May 29, 2007 by leeannafar

Ever since I was a kid I had a hard time learning how to practice new tasks, skills, whatever, in front of others. Not so much a fear of performing, if I was prepared in advance, no problem. But if I had to actually make mistakes or learn through repeated processes, well, I wasn’t really into that. So learning how to participate in and actually perform a tea ceremony in a traditional tea school in KamakuraAncient capital of Japan during the Kamakura shogunate, from 1185 to 1333. One hour from Tokyo. Very cultural city where best of traditional Japan is still alive., it was basically my idea of hell wrapped in a beautiful silk kimono. Now I don’t want to seem ungrateful, this was a fantastic opportunity that quite a few people went to a lot of trouble to set up. So I most definitely wasn’t going to waste it. Maybe the best thing that came from it is a cringingly funny account of a naive gaijinJapanese word meaning "outsider" commonly used to describe foreigners. Considered somewhat impolite. ’s introduction to a revered Japanese tradition.

The day started with a trip to the woman’s house who would supply two kimono for us to wear. My friend Tomoko and I were both pretty excited about this, since neither of us had ever participated in a tea ceremony. However, since Tomoko is Japanese (she lived there pretty much her whole life, just came to the states for college, which is how we met) I was the one who got preferential treatment. I was dressed in an amazing silk kimono, which took about an hour to put on. She was dressed in a simple cotton yukata, which the dresser and assistant basically threw at her (okay, they weren’t that bad, they were very nice to both of us, but just to paint a picture). Anyway, off to the tea school, where the much revered and aged head of the school shuffled out to preside over the ceremony, even though she was in ill health and rarely instructed herself. We were first instructed on how to appropriately contemplate the scroll in the entrance alcove, then how many steps to take across the room, and then correct seating placement, hand placement, napkin placement, passing of tea, treats, plates, in a clockwise fashion, etc. Mind you this is all taking place in Japanese, with Tomoko translating for me. An added difficulty was that the instructor assumed Tomoko was well versed in tea ceremony, so she only gave the broad strokes, expecting Tomoko to fill in the rest. Uh huh, right, she was just as confused as I was. So after I had examined the tea bowl confusedly, sliced my treat improperly, and passed the bowl fumblingly, I was starting to hope this ceremony was coming to a close (reminding the reader here that I am not ungrateful, just humiliated). However, they had other ideas in mind for me. After I practiced being a “guest” at the ceremony, I was then asked if I would like to make the tea myself. The horror, the horror! But I had guessed this may be offered, and I would never forgive myself if I was given this opportunity and turned it down. So I determinedly walked up to the delicate tea instruments and prepared myself for the ensuing tragedy that was about to take place. I won’t go into too much detail (mainly because I have blocked most of it out) but I really couldn’t have done much worse. I knew it wasn’t going to go well at all when I sat in front of the instruments and realized it was set up for a right hander. I am LEFT HANDED, and an in no way one of those lucky left handers who is pretty adept with their right hand as well. I asked Tomoko about this, and she informed me that the Japanese are ALL right handed, whether their physiology agrees or not. Nothing I can do about it now. The instructor shows me how to hold the instruments properly, and I forget every time, because my muscle memory in my right hand just refuses to be taught. Tomoko is trying to translate, but “put your finger exactly here and do this and this and this” doesn’t exactly work to really explain what I am supposed to do. I feel so lame, and so, well, gaijin, that a couple of tears pop out. I know the instructor is trying to console me (she keeps saying “so so so so so”, which I guess is “yes, that’s right”). I go through all the steps, spooning the macha, pouring the water, but when I get to the stirring, there is no way I can make the foam properly form with my right hand. I finally move the whisk to my left hand and stir. A collective OOOHHHH!! rises from the room, the other women realizing how difficult it was for me with my other (wrong) hand. I finally present the tea bowl to Tomoko, who I am sure is hating me by now, since I am frustrated, crying, and practically shaking with embarrassment. Of course this is not true, she is Japanese after all, and is much more worried about my comfort. After I am repeatedly praised by the instructor and other students (riiigghht) we are finally let out of that beautiful and serene world of TORTURE. Now all that is left is to get the kimono laundered, send thank you notes, and try to regain some of my dignity.