Tea-ism

Not defeated in our failed attempt to see a dance show, we decide to see something else worth while. We walk across Tienanmen Square to reach LaoShe Tea House. I shall remind you that the square is the largest in the world, with a full kilometer long. And that the weather is (slightly) below 0 (not so bad for me with my nice long coat, but my Israeli Darling would still remind me of how much better 40 degree feels). 

We could not take a taxi because 1) there were no free taxi passing by and 2) even if there were any, we were not sure of the exact location of that place, and with our limited vocabulary we could not have directed the driver. So we walked. 

We reached the tea house to realize that it is a major (touristic) location. As we entered we were lead upstairs. I proudly was able to tell them in Chinese that we are here to drink tea(喝茶    "he cha"). Obviously.

We are lead upstairs, and walk in what is a replica of some old hutong gate, to an area filled with the sounds of water, music and crickets. 

We are led to a small room. Unfortunately, our view is not only to the courtyard, but also to several jars of crickets lined up. Their song might be lovely, but their sight is not so inspiring for tea tasting. We ask for a new room.  

We are led to a new little space furnished with a table and 4 straight back chair. The tea equipment is on the table. As we sit, a young lady brings us a menu, written on bamboo sticks. Paul leaves me glance at it and order. The prices are out of control, ranging from 2220 RMB (about 350$) to a meager 280 RMB (45$). I think it must be the price per pound, and choose the cheapest, a jasmine tea. Tea can't be that expensive. 

She returns with the tray, and shows to Pauli a few pellets of tea at the bottom of a jar. As she does so, she mentions the price. It is that expensive, at 280 per cup (plus the room 60, plus the cookies)! We prevaricate a bit, almost ready to go, ask to see the menu again. We spot a tea, the only one, at 86 per cup. Sounds like more reasonable. Our waitress can avoid showing a certain disappointment. We are so uncultured she must think!

Indeed one must be a real connoisseur to sip a weak tea sitting on a straight back wooden chair, in a cold little room lit by a florescent, with no carpet or cushions, with the sound of the one cord Chinese violin in the background. The repertory of the instrument sounds more like a constant tuning exercise. 

Our hostess returns with two tall glasses and a teapot of hot water. She pours the water in our glasses to warm them up, and discart it. She then puts in them a large fluffy ball. A flower opens as the water warms it. It is very interesting to see, the taste is slightly bitter. 

As we sit there sipping our tea, we browse the leaflets left on the table. It proudly boast about numerous foreign heads of state who greeted a visit to the teahouse. I munch on a few special cookies while we discuss the experiment. 

Unfortunate Lao She, we, novice tea drinkers, walk out of his house thinking that coffee is still a much nicer drink for this cold weather.