Tea is a drink. The art lies in how people prepare it and drink it. Unfortunately, the art of tea has been distorted.

The biggest tormenter is the invention of bagged tea. Western people, unable to fully appreciate the oriental culture, drink the tea like eating fast foods. You dip an ugly paper bag into the hot water and, bingo, without actually seeing the tea leaves, the smell of tea fills in the room, the water turns into brown or red, and the tea is done. You never know what is inside that bag. It is said that cheap tea bags may contain really low grade tea leaves and even dregs. The smell of tea and jasmine might be flavored, i.e., made by artificially additives. But people still drink it, enjoy it, and feel being invigorated by it.

Bagged tea is now a multi-billion business. Commercialized anything is a sure way to destroy its inherent art. On the other hand, the tea ceremony has been claimed to replay the old art of tea drinking. Thus, the tea ceremony in modern tea houses becomes popular in China recently. However, the tea ceremony also twists the art of tea in some subtle ways .

In China, modern tea houses are different from traditional tea houses. Although they both are socializing places, in traditional tea houses, the purpose is not the tea drinking and the tea is not necessary good. People go there to chat, listen to oral stories, or appreciate something else. But in modern tea houses, the tea is usually very fine and expensive, and there are some elaborated tea ceremonies. You appreciate both the performance and the tea itself.

Certainly, the so-called modern tea houses are not modern in Japan. In Japan, watching a Geisha performing the tea ceremony in a tea house is one of common social activities. Although similar tea ceremonies have been around in China since the very beginning of the tea drinking, the introduction of the Japanese tea style do help revive and popularize the tea ceremony in China.

Several months ago, I was entertained by a friend with this kind of tea ceremony. He learned this fancy stuff in China and brought a tea ceremony set here. The set consisted of a wood platform with sophisticate carves, a small dark brown porcelain tea pot, four tiny porcelain cups, and some other small gadgets which he was still unsure how to use them. The tea packed in a delicately embroiled tin was very expensive. After a brief introduction about these things, he almost fully stuffed the small pot with the fine tea leaves. He then slowly poured hot water into the pot, covered it and flipped it a couple times. In no time, the tea aroma filled the room. We all agreed that the tea was indeed really good. After a few more minutes to let the tea leaves be completed soaked, he lifted the pot and poured the tea through the dumping hole on the platform. He explained that the first course was merely to wash the tea leaves. Well, this made sense because the first course of the tea might be dirty (pollution? Dust?) and likely very strong, given so many leaves and so little water. Then he quickly poured hot water into the pot again. We waited impatiently. A couple minutes later, he proudly announced that the tea was ready. He carefully arranged the four cups in a row and dripped the tea into them in a rotating fashion. He educated us that this serving method was called “General Hanxin counts soldiers.” After this silly ritual, we finally picked up the cups. I took one sip, and “Hmmm,” I said. Well, my friend kindly stopped me from taking another sip. He instructed that I should not sip the tea like that. The right way to drink the tea was to look at the tea first, smell it, and then take a small sip. The tea should stay in the mouth for a while to fully stimulate the taste buds. Besides, I should take at least four sips to finish this small amount of tea. That was a little bit overwhelming and hypocritical, I protested.

Anyway, my friend served several courses of tea for us and performed some other tricks. We had a lot of fun that night. I learned that the whole ceremony was called “Gong-fu Cha.” It has been popular in the southern China for hundreds of years. I believe it has some connections with the old tea ceremony in Sung or Ming dynasties. Chinese tradition may be preserved in southern China quite well. Similar to the Japanese Teaism, the “Gong-fu Cha” may be related to Zen and Taoism too. Zen teaches us that we can understand our lives by appreciating small things.

However, there is something not very right in this kind of tea ceremony. It is true that the elaborated tea making steps are to raise the expectation for the tea itself, and the smell, color, and taste of the tea is fully appreciated during the ceremony. But these extra fancy rituals of making the tea push the art of tea drinking to a pathetic stage. Tea is a drink after all. If you pay too much attention to the ritualistic performance, the tea loses its meanings. In fact, the rituals prevent people fully appreciating the tea itself. The tea ceremony is in contrary to the fundamental Zen doctrine, that is, matter is the matter itself.

A real tea lover, I think, should make the tea in a simple way. You pick out some tea leaves, examine their color, shape, and texture, smell them, and maybe taste them even before drop them into the cup. After pouring water into the cup, you can see the leaves dancing merrily, opening up gradually, and floating or standing gracefully in the water. You can watch the water turning into green or red, feel and smell the tea fragrance rising from the cup, and appreciating this liquid jade. Then you taste it, one sip by another, and will enjoy it immensely.

Yes, I prefer not throwing away the first course of tea. I think the strong flavor is what the tea is supposed to have. Further, if there are any healthy ingredients in the tea, discarding the first course is certainly a big waste. Wise person never does that.