Dan Cong Tea with Amayah

5 year old Amayah rang the bell, accompanied by J.J. She was my friend’s housekeeper’s daughter, originally from Puerto Rico. I had met Amayah briefly a few weeks back at a party and J.J. who had never tasted Chinese tea, wanted to bring her along to my tea ceremony.  

At first I thought, a tea ceremony might be too grown up for a child, but she seemed very eager to come even though she had no idea what to expect and we set up an appointment for a late Sunday afternoon.

I was intrigued by Amayah’s curiosity and I agreed to host her. As the week passed, I was getting more excited as it was a first experience for me as well to share Chinese tea with a young child. How would I convey the mystery of a leaf, the aroma and perfume that evolve  in our mouth as you drink it, the sacredness of a beverage older than she could ever imagine what thousand years might represent.

On Sunday, I welcomed them in. She was a bit shy and disoriented, yet followed the pictured sign at the door and removed her shoes.  I held her hand and led her into the living room as she looked around bashfully. I was just as timid.

In the background  some Chinese tea ballads played softly - traditional instrumental music of the erhu, the pipa and guzheng - celebrating the melodies of the tea plucker’s singing and enlivening the beauty of nature where tea is found, by the Xiang river, the Shu Mountain, of Dongting Lake and  Xihu Lake, the famous West Lake of Hangzhou. The mood was set.

They sat on the couch and I asked if she drank tea at home. She nodded, but I saw in her eyes, she didn’t really understand the meaning of the question so I decided to show her a picture book with a tea leaf, a tea flower, a tea plantation. Now she had a point of reference. She looked at it attentively. I had gained her concentration and asked her what kind of tea she wanted to drink: white, green or black. She surprised me when she immediately chose black. She seemed so assured of her choice. Even though I thought of challenging her, I would have preferred to have shared white tea which is softer to the palate and easier on a beginner. But she was determined.

It was now time to sit down at the round table where I had set up the bamboo tray, a gaiwan, a pitcher and my memorabilia of tea accessories. Each of us had our own small celadon cup placed in front of us.

I decided to serve Amayah a Dan Cong Oolong, also called Mi Lan Xiang “Snow Orchid”. Its strong oxidation and roasted quality make it a bold tea.  She watched me set aside some dry loose leaves then smelled them as I handed them to her. I put the tea inside the gaiwan, poured gently the hot water over it then rested the lid on top. Each step I took brought her attention to focus. She let me guide her in awakening her senses, nodding, watching, listening to my explanation. She began to take longer and deeper sniffs, noticing the different aromas that evolved.

 When I poured some tea in her cup, it was too hot for her to taste. I tried to show her how the Chinese sip, by letting air in between their lips to cool the hot beverage. She did not understand what the slurp was about, so I made a loud noise while drinking, giving her permission that this time, here and now, it was OK to slurp and make noise, in fact it was encouraged. 

It was not until the fourth infusion that Amayah surprised us and sipped from the cup, letting in the hot beverage past her lips and taking in a bigger gulp. We rejoiced and applauded. She had finally understood how to drink Chinese tea. Her body became more responsive and flexible, standing closer to the table, straighter and more attentive to the moment; she smiled and laughed; she even twirled the liquid in her mouth… she had befriended the tea. 

I then introduced her to my tea pet, a small clay pig sitting on the tea tray. I explained that he was my watch pet, bringing luck and blessing the tea we were drinking. She made a pig face. It was so sweet.  The ceremony was over. She had drunk five infusions of oolong and it was time to go back home.  As a souvenir, I gave her one un-swirled wet tea leaf from the gaiwan and put it gently in a napkin and wrapped a piece of tape around it as a gift. 

On the way back to the front door, I pointed to my miniature zen garden and showed her how one can rake the sand and carefully move the stones. All that was required was her quiet, careful attention. She held the rake in her tiny hand and made wavy motions with the sand, following the natural flow in a circle until the garden was coiffed.

She gave me a warm hug and kissed me goodbye. 

Later I heard from JJ that Amayah was very excited about the tea leaf she had taken home and showed it to her mother, practicing the way to drink tea and how to sip from the cup. Amaya had asked her mother to get their own tea set so she can show everyone how to serve it and drink it and was so excited to tell her teacher the next day about her day at the Chinese tea party.  

In a pensive unspoken moment, she had also understood the meaning of the Zen garden and the thoughtful attention it requires, just like preparing and drinking tea.