The sounds of the tea room

I was sitting in the tearoom the other day listening to the rain on the roof. The tea room is like a sensory deprivation chamber in that it is bare of decoration or furniture. It is quiet and often dimly lighted. The walls are a muted color and the tatami mats straw colored with black borders. Because of this austere setting, anything that happens is highlighted and perhaps magified in importance.

Like the rain on the roof. In the Pacific Northwest, it rains a lot. The weather forecasters have many ways to describe it: rain, heavy rain, rain then clearing, intermittent rain, chance of rain, rain likely, light rain, showers, drizzle, misty…
If you pay attention, there are many sounds of the rain. From the heavy, slow drip of large drops after a sudden shower to the quick patter of a cloud burst.

If you keep your ear tuned to the sounds of the tea room, you will find so many other sounds that you never heard before. Like the way the kettle sounds as it heats the water. Every kettle has its own song. As the water heats, it begins to sing and mummer. You know the water is at the right temperature for making tea when the kettle sounds like “the wind in the pines.”

Another sound you might notice the next time you are at a tea ceremony is the sound of the water as it is poured into the bowl. Hot water sounds completely different than cold water. No matter which bowl it is, the sound is different. Can you hear it?

The soft shuffling of the host as he enters and leaves the tea room, the whisk as it froths the tea, even the plunk of the water ladle as it is put on the stand. Listen, can you hear it?

The Samurai and the Tea Master

A long time ago there lived a Tea Master. He was an elderly, small and frail man. He was known throughout the countryside where he lived for his beautiful Tea Ceremony. His work was so good that one day the Emperor heard about him and summoned him to the Palace to perform this special ceremony.

The quiet, little Tea Master received this invitation from the Emperor. He packed his belongings, placed them on his back and started on a long journey by foot to the Palace.

After many long days the little man arrived and performed the ceremony for the Emperor. The Emperor was so impressed! He presented the Tea Master with the highest honor that he was allowed. He presented him with the two Japanese swords of the Samurai.

The Tea Master accepted the swords. He bowed to the emperor, placed the swords on his back, picked up his belongings and started his journey home.

Two days later the little man was walking through a small country village when he was spotted by the Samurai that protected that area. He was a great and powerful Samurai. At first the Samurai could not believe his eyes. Where those swords? What was this little frail man doing with them?!

The Samurai confronted the little man. “How dare you make a mockery of all Samurai! I can not stand for this dishonor. "

The Samurai challenged the Tea Ceremony master to a duel to the death with swords, and said: "Meet me here today at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and we shall fight.”

Honor would not permit the Tea Ceremony master to refuse the challenge, so he had to agree. But he was frightened, and went to his own teacher of Tea Ceremony, to ask him what to do. "I have never held a sword in my hand in my life," he said. "He will surely kill me".

The older Tea Ceremony master replied with a calm smile. "Do not worry," he said. "Go meet him at the appointed time, and do what you know how to do. Perform the Tea Ceremony."

At four o'clock, the Samurai arrived with swords. But the Tea Ceremony master arrived with charcoal, matches, a tea kettle, water, cups, and began to prepare the tea.

The Tea Master opened his tea container and the pungent smell of the green tea mingled with the fragrance of the flowers. Quietly and purposefully, the tea master scooped a small amount of green tea into a cup. With the ladle he dipped hot water from the kettle and poured it onto the tea. The Samurai watched, caught up in the quiet intensity of the tea master’s movements. Taking the whisk, the tea master applied it vigorously until the tea foamed. Then bowing with complete calmness, the tea master handed the cup to the Samurai.

The Samurai sipped the tea properly. When he finished, he said to the Tea Master: "I am defeated. You have united body and soul so perfectly, you defeated me. The only thing I can honorably do to a man like you is ask you to teach me. Will you instruct me in the ways of the tea ceremony?"

“Of course,” said the Tea Master. “Meet me at sunset tomorrow.”

Kansha for gratitude

Kansha is a part of the etiquette for receiving tea and sweets. Before taking sweets, the tray or bowl is lifted slightly from the floor as the head is bowed in silent thanks. Then the guest can take out his pack of papers and take a sweet.

Just as before the guest drinks from the tea bowl, it is lifted slightly in the hands as the head is bowed again in silent thanks. This is gratitude not just to the host for making the tea, but for everyone and everything that made it possible to drink the tea here and now.

This small gesture, kansha reminds us to be thankful not just for the immediate right now, but for all the things that have allowed us to be here with what we have today. When we are about to eat and drink, kansha. When we are about to start something, a small bow as kansha, gratitude that allows to embark on what we are about to do. Yes, that includes housecleaning. Kansha.

Preparing for tea

Throughout the ceremony, the hosts and guests both aspire towards a sense of tranquility. The priest Takuan wrote of preparing for a tea ceremony and said, "and let this all be carried out in accordance with the idea that in this room we can enjoy the streams and rocks as we do the rivers and mountains in Nature, and appreciate the various moods and sentiments suggested by the snow, the moon, and the trees and flowers, as they go through the transformation of seasons, appearing and disappearing, blooming and withering. As visitors are greeted here with due reverence, we listen quietly to the boiling water in the kettle, which sounds like a breeze passing through the pine needles, and become oblivious of all worldly woes and worries…"

The language of kimono

The Portland Japanese Garden just concluded an exhibition of kimono from the collection of Susan Kastner. As part of the program, there were two special events: a kimono dressing workshop and a lecture on kimono depicted in woodblock prints. (There is an exhibition of the kimono woodblock prints opening at the Portland Art Museum, too).

The kimono in the exhibition were exquisite and showed the wide range of decoration from finely painted scenery to elaborate embroidery to painstaking tie dye. The language of kimono is many layered. Through the theme of kimono through the four seasons you could see not just the obvious symbols of the seasons – snow for winter, colored leaves for fall, flowers for spring and water for summer, but also the literary references to the stories in Noh plays, or puns and witticisms, for example. There were other not so obvious references in the kimono on exhibit such as the length of the sleeves to show the age of the wearer, the summer weight of the cloth and even the differences for a geisha kimono.

For tea ceremony, kimono is more subdued than those on exhibit. Appropriate colors are not as bright and the sleeves are shorter than the kimono shown. The most formal kimono for tea is iro muji, or one color kimono with no decoration. Though there is no applied or painted decoration, the richness of the kimono is apparent in the weight of the silk and weave. Sometimes there will be patterns woven into the fabric like damsak: waves, flowers, pine trees or motifs. The obi for tea can be elaborate and colorful.

The kimono is a garment that is wrapped and tied with lengths of cloth (called himo), there are no fasteners. Thus, every time you put on a kimono it is custom fitted. Though it looks like a kimono is one-size-fits-all, there are crucial measurements to fit a kimono and then can be adjusted precisely to the wearer.

The first time I dressed myself in kimono, it took me about three and a half hours. It was mostly because I didn’t know what I was doing. But with much practice (I wore kimono everyday when I lived in Japan) and a few tricks taught to me by teachers and senior students, have made it easier. Most days I can dress in about 15 minutes. If I am going to a formal event, I take my time and can do it in about 25 minutes.

Dressing in kimono for men is a little simpler than for women. The obi is tied in a simple style and usually there are a limited range of colors: dark blue, brown, grey and black. On formal occasions, men wear hakama, a wide divided skirt-like garment worn over the lower half of the kimono. There is a specific way to tie the hakama to make it look formal and keep it secure.

Some martial arts still wear the hakama for training and formal occasions. If you think that men in skirts look funny, you probably haven’t seen a man in full formal kimono and hakama. They look so gorgeous and manly, just like the samurai.