The Art of Tea

Since coming to Taiwan and having been accepted as a government-sponsored foreign scholar, I have been doing some intense studying on several important subjects related to Chinese culture.

Initially, I thought I might speak about music stores with good listening stations in Taipei, but the Office of Traditional Costume and Fashion Research (part of the Ministry of Education, and also in charge of managing and costuming foreign scholars), gave that one a big "不行" ("no way, Jose").

So, today I will speak about tea.

In many ways, tea represents the essence of Chinese culture. Varieties of tea abound. You've got your greens, your wulongs, and your black teas, to make a long story short. In Taiwan, wulong teas are preferred. Green teas are mostly gotten from 7-11 in plastic bottles and also contain lots of sugar, or sometimes, you can find a cafe here or there that serves authentic tea from Japan.

But today, we are not here to talk about Japan. Or Korea. Did you know that in the United Nations registry of holidays, the Koreans recently claimed Dragon Boat Festival as their "authentic" Korean holiday. Oh, come on Koreans. Are you going to claim Thanksgiving, too, as your own? I bet you will, and will also have TV shows with pilgrims.

Anyway, I am getting off the topic.

Why tea? I once heard that while coffee is prose, tea is poetry. Doesn't that just rock, as analogies go? I mean, think about a novel, one that you can't put down, a classic, like, say, . That's a cup of coffee. It keeps you enthralled and entertained, and when you can't read it, you sort of go through withdrawal. I also think coffee is like rocket fuel. Soon after drink it, you feel like you can conquer the world.

But then there's tea. When I drink a cup of tea, it slowly.