Cultural Experiences in Japan: a Tea Ceremony

Clear. Cool. Crisp. A fall morning in Tokyo. Today would be a day I would remember for the rest of my life. My Japanese guide, I'll call her "Maiko," arrived at the hotel to accompany me on our adventure. We caught the train at Shinjuku Station, switching trains several times to get to Shibamata, the neighborhood in Tokyo where a traditional Japanese Tea Ceremony class is held. And we were going.

Disembarking the train, we walked until we reached the Yamamoto-Tei (it means "Yamamoto House" in English). Yamamoto House is historic and was built in the 1920s. The grounds, small and lovely, were bordered by high fencing and bushes.

Entering the Tea House, a 40-something geisha and a teenage geisha greeted us. They led us to a small, empty room. The older geisha instructed us to remove our shoes and enter the tatami room. Tatami mats--made of various woods, such as bamboo--covered the floor. She told us to sit on the floor in the traditional Japanese pose--feet and legs tucked under buttocks. Being a Westerner, I was unaccustomed to floor-sitting.

Frankly, it hurt. I tried to hold myself up using my stomach and leg muscles. I finally told Maiko that I could not sit that way any longer. She suggested I sit in a more comfortable position. So, I rearranged myself with knees and legs together, bent to my left side.

Eight students, mostly Japanese, attended the class. I was the only "foreigner", an American. One woman brought her 5-year-old daughter dressed in a kimono for her first Tea Ceremony class. The child was attentive, quiet, and well-behaved.

The teacher--the 40-something geisha--said to remove all jewelry as it could damage the tea cups. She gave all directions verbally in Japanese. As I speak only basic Japanese, Maiko quietly translated for me to avoid disturbing the other attendees. Maiko said the purposes of the tea ceremony are to focus on the moment, notice the beauty around you, and to be fully conscious of life.

The teacher led us out onto a deck that encircled the building. We were instructed to wash our hands in water trickling from a wooden spigot in a wooden bucket, with a ladle. The teacher said to hold the ladle with our right hand and pour water over the fingers of our left hand.

Then, we reversed the process to cleanse the other hand. After filling the ladle a 3rd time, we tilted it upside down so the water ran down the ladle's handle to clean it for the next person. We dried off our hands with a small clean towel and walked to a different tatami room where tea was served.

We bowed often--to the teacher and to each other. The teacher instructed us to make a triangle shape with our hands on the floor and bow down toward it, leaning over, placing our noses in the middle of the triangle. Bowing low was to rid the body of ego, another purpose of the ceremony.

While the tea steeped, a pair of chopsticks was passed around. Then came a tray of sweets. Each of us used chopsticks to select one of the identical sweets from the tray. Made from sugar dough, like marzipan, the sweets were colored pink and shaped like a flower.

We were instructed to hold our right palm up, flattened and with fingers close together to hold the candy on our palm. We were then shown how to cut and eat it. We took the short plastic utensil, and used the edge to cut the candy like a pie. One slice at a time, we cut and speared the slices with the utensil, eating slowly.

Next, one by one, we were served tea in beautifully painted cups. They had no handles and were actually more like bowls in the Western sense. When we received our bowl of tea, we were to turn it to the left, one-quarter turn, so the front of the bowl does not face us. Then, after wiping the edge with our fingers, we were told to place the bowls in front of our knees.

The teacher showed us how to bow low with our foreheads near the floor in front of us, face near the bowl to study its beauty. Then, the teacher said to bow to the person next to us and say something in Japanese, like a toast. Next, we drank the tea, being careful to keep the painting on the cup facing away from us. Finally, we set the cup on the floor. The teacher said to drink all the tea in just 3 or 4 drinks. Of special importance, we were told to drink the last sip noisily to send a message to the hostess that we were enjoying the tea.

Once finished, we each leaned toward our cup to study it, noticing and enjoying its beauty. The teacher discussed the bowls' artwork. She explained that at every Tea Ceremony, a special guest is designated. What a surprise it was to learn that I was the "special guest" on this day! I was given a very old bowl from which to drink my tea. The teacher picked it up and described it in detail to the class. The bowl was black with 4 fans pictured on it. Each fan depicted a season of the year.

The bowls were quite old and had been used to serve tea to many generations of women in Japan. After her discussion of my bowl's art, she collected all the bowls. The teacher explained a few more things about the Tea Ceremony before dismissing us. We stood up and bowed to the geishas, uttering our sincere thanks. I was never so glad to get up off the floor in all my life! I could hardly stand up--my left foot and ankle had gone to sleep. I limped carefully on my sleeping foot, hoping I would not collapse.

Slowly, we filed out of the room into the hallway and back to the foyer, to get our shoes. After slipping them on, we headed into the lush, beautiful gardens. Maiko and I meandered down the path, through the gate. A cultural ritual steeped in tradition and history, memories of the Japanese Tea Ceremony on that fall morning in Tokyo surround me with peace, beauty, and serenity. Sayonara.