Kyoto Tea Party

This week I received an unexpected email from my previous host mother from when I studied abroad at Kansai Gaidai, asking if I was in Japan yet and if I had time this Sunday for a ‘tea party.’ 

My host mother (hereafter Okaasan) is very much into various Japanese traditional and non-traditional arts.  She regularly attends tea ceremonies, wears kimono, does flower arranging, and the two of us bonded over our love of sewing and other fabric crafts.  We even both entered a basket decorating contest at the local craft store when I was here last.  She beat me pretty handily. 

In any case, Okaasan had two tickets two a tea ceremony event at the Heian Jingu Shrine in Kyoto this Sunday, but because of other commitments could not make it.  Instead, she offered to mail the tickets to me so I could take a friend and go.  I had always wanted to try a tea ceremony with my host mother when I was here last, so although this would not be with her, I jumped at the opportunity.  The tickets arrived in the mail the next day with a detailed explanation of what to do and what not to do at a tea ceremony from Okaasan, plus a pair of little bamboo sticks and some rice paper napkins to eat tea ceremony sweets with.

I invited one of my grad school classmates to come with me, but she backed out at the last minute, so I went to the event by myself.  My kimono is still in the US, waiting for my family to visit in November and bring it with them, and a cotton yukata is too informal for such an event, so I put on my nicest cotton dress and headed to the shrine.

The Heian Jingu is a huge temple in eastern Kyoto, the history of which I am unfortunately rusty on, but it is a pretty spectacular compound and a major tourist trap.  What I didn’t realize is that it also has some expansive, gorgeous gardens.  The tea ceremony event had representatives from six different schools of tea ceremony.  Each of the six groups had set up in one of several pavilions on the temple compound.  Not only were these rooms usually closed to the public, but the two ceremonies I went to were in a part of the gardens that were usually completely off-limits to the public.

I arrived at the temple gates and found the welcome desk for the tea ceremony event, and showed them my ticket.  They gave me a little red ribbon to pin to my purse so that I would be allowed into the restricted parts of the temple.  They asked me which of the six schools I wanted to go to, and having no clue at the difference between them, I asked the two women for a recommendation.  They both enthusiastically pointed to the first school on the list and told me how to get there.

I found the first school’s pavilion in the restricted garden, overlooking a serene pond garden.  I was told that there was only room left in the last party of the day, in two hours, but if I took a number, I could come back then.  Riding on the firm recommendation of the two women up front, I agreed.  Seeing another pavilion just across the path, I walked over and asked them when the next open ceremony was and they said, “Right now, go on it!”  I was given one of the last three spots.

Before I could step up the stairs into the building, I had to remove my shoes.  But, instead of walking them over to the shoe rack myself, it was sort of valet shoes.  Two men by the door told me to step out of my shoes onto the wooden platform, then they took my shoes for me and gave me a number to claim then when I returned.  Now that is fancy shoe service.  It makes me wish I had been wearing fancier shoes than my beat-up walking flats.

Inside was a large tatami mat room (traditional woven mat flooring) with long, narrow felt mats around the outside for guests to kneel on.  You are expected to sit on your knees for the entire 45 minute ceremony.  There were probably 30-40 guests partaking in the ceremony.  No sooner had I gotten inside then the ceremony started.  A pleasant elderly woman in the center of the room had a full set of tea-making instruments bowed to the room and we all bowed back.  She began the process of making tea that seemed to be part ceremony, part art, and part practical tea-making.  As she was preparing the tea, several other women came around with platters of sweets.  This is what Okaasan’s rice paper and bamboo stick was for. 

The open spot I had seated myself in was in the middle of the room, so I figured it was a safe place to follow Okaasan’s instructions of, “Watch the other people and do what they do.”  However, the tray of sweets for our section started with me.  The woman put it down in front of me, bowed, and left.  Glancing to my right and left, I couldn’t see any cues to follow, so I took the chopsticks, took one of the peach-shaped sweets, put it on my rice paper then returned the chopsticks to the bowl.  I looked at the woman to my left with an embarrassed shrug, and she looked a bit confused before she slid the platter to herself and continued.  As I watched everyone else, I realized that I was supposed to first bow to the woman after me, as an apology for going first, take my snack, then wipe off the ends of the chopsticks with the top right corner of my rice paper before putting them back on the platter, writing facing up.  As the only foreigner in the room, she seemed to forgive me for that, especially since I explained that it was my first time.

Sweets on our rice papers in front of us, we were not to eat them just yet.  Meanwhile, the woman in the middle of the room finished making five cups of tea, which were given to the first five people to her left.  The women who had given us our sweets came out with trays of tea cups and handed each out.  After bowing once when given our cup and again when she emptied her tray to our whole section, then we could drink the tea, followed my mandatory admiring of the ceramic tea cups. 

Unlike the tea ceremony I had tried in college, this was leaf green tea and not powdered matcha.  Though, still bitter, the sweet is meant to cleans the palate before tea round two.  The sweet was some kind of mochi with red bean paste in the middle.  After that came the second round of tea, and then the woman in the center tidied up her tea station, left the room, and bowed to us all, for us to bow back.

After nearly 45 minutes of sitting on my knees I did pretty well to stand up straight, retrieve my shoes and stagger over to the nearest bench to wait out my legs coming out being completely numb.  After I got over that painful process, I still had an hour before my second ceremony (the ticket was good for two ceremonies).  I crossed the street from the temple to have lunch at the touristy temple café with overpriced foods (I was intrigued by the curry and cheese Heian hot dog, but they were all out).

On my way back in, an older woman noticed me following her towards the tea gardens and asked me if I was going back for more tea, noting that she had seen me at the other ceremony.  I suppose I am hard to miss.  Coincidentally, she also had a ticket for the same ceremony, still in 45 minutes.  I wound up spending the rest of my time sitting with her, Ota-san, in the gardens and chatting.  Ota-san is an unmarried, retired middle school teacher and gymnastics coach in her 70s that really loves tea ceremony, Kyoto, and other traditional Japanese arts.  When I said that I really love Japanese gardens, she said that her favorite was at a temple near her home, then gave me her phone number so I could let her know if I ever came to see it and was in her neighborhood.  I seem to have a knack for making friends with women a few generations ahead of me, and I really do love it.  I think I will have to take her up on it sometime later.

The second pavilion was even more beautiful than the first.  It was right on the water, and they left the sliding doors open to a view of the pond and gardens.  On the opposite wall were gold leafed paintings of trees and an stunningly decorated alter with incense.  When we sat down, Ota-san lent me a piece of kimono fabric to put over my knees, as she seemed to be concerned that my skirt was a bit too short when I was sitting down.

The second ceremony was very much like the first, with one major difference: this school of tea ceremony is practiced entirely by men.  A young man began to make tea in the center of the room while a woman narrated what he was doing and about the history of the school.  Meanwhile other men came out with trays of the sweets again.  I will admit I was a bit disappointed when the sweets were passed out on individual saucers, as I was totally ready with the chopsticks and rice paper procedures after messing that up the first time.  The saucers, the sweet, and the cups all had yin-yang symbols incorporated into them, which must have been the symbol of the school.  The tea was then passed out, and each cup only had about three drops of tea in it, but it was really flavorful.  After tea was snacks, a second round of tea, and then a third round that was warm water in the now tea-flavored cups.  I have to agree with Ota-san, being served by men in kimono and hakama, who held the trays steady and high in front of their chests, practically marching in a theatrical Noh style was pretty striking.  I never thought a tea party could be manly and handsome, but this definitely was.

While I am pretty good at sitting seiza on my knees for a white person, this one pushed the limits of it.  When it came time to go, I could hardly stand.  I did quite a bit of stumbling trying to get myself righted and hand trouble standing in one place as I painfully got feeling back to my legs.  I don’t know how everyone else did it, just standing up and walking away like it was nothing.  A man had come over when I first sat down to ask me if my legs would be alright and if I needed a sitting cushion (at least I think that was what he asked), but I was a bit prideful and refused.  When we were done and I was teetering to my feet, he was back and asking to make sure I was okay, and asking what I thought of the ceremony, if I had ever done that before, and how long I was in Kyoto for.  It was really sweet of him, and he said that their school would be back in Tokyo next March for Golden Week, if I wanted to come again.

It was a bit of a rushed day, and my knees still ache, but they will recover, and I had a great time.  Now, I would love to be able to do that with Okaasan sometime.