Late April is cherry blossom viewing time around here. On April 20th., ICIEA held the 10th annual o-hanami, or cherry blossom viewing party. It took place at Shimi no Mori, (Citizen’s Park), at the top of the hill. Last year there were no trees in bloom yet. This year was perfect, with the trees in perhaps 70% full bloom.
I was asked by Tabusa-san if I wanted to serve tea in a shortened tea ceremony. She has various students do this at o-hanami every year. She asked in February…which didn’t leave much time. Having taken part in this shortened ceremony several times, I felt perhaps it was time to give it back…so I said yes.
My feeling at this time was that this art was a sort of partly idealized, partly sentimentalized call to Japan’s medieval past. I did enjoy the bitter, gorgeously green tea.
I found out, however, that o-cha is a rigorous ritual, endlessly detailed and quite difficult to master, even in the short version we were studying. It didn’t help that I can’t sit seizei for more than five minutes before my knees threaten me. During the five or six lessons my teacher gave me, she was very patient.
Tabusa-san lives in a beautiful Meiji era house in Sakurai, the south part of Imabari. It’s a forty minute bike ride from my house in Oshinden in the north. One enters her house via a very pretty moss covered garden.
Her tea room is in the shoin room of her house, quite big, and the walls are covered in black stucco made from black sand. Usually this stucco is beige, like it is in my house, and a common wall component indoors. Apparently during Edo and Meiji times, this black sand stucco was prized. It looks very odd and beautiful…six years ago, when they renovated her house, she and her husband left the shoin room with it’s original walls.
She told me her sensei, who is 94, and very, very old school, would be coming to the cherry blossom viewing. I started freaking out; there was no possibility of even approaching her standards! I was reassured, however, that she couldn’t see so well. So, Yano-san, a fellow practisioner, was then asked to lend me his kimono, under-kimono, and zori. He agreed, reluctantly, to do this.
April 20th. was sunny. Fluffy white clouds were floating around in the sky. The trees were in bloom. It looked great! Lots of people showed up. Everything started a little late; Yano-san dressed me in his really nice green kimono, muttering ‘chotto metabolic’ repeatedly. It means ‘you’re a bit over weight’. He said it six times.
Wearing kimono was really amazing this time around as it was formal; under-kimono, kimono, Hakata (pant things),and of course, obi. I quite enjoyed wearing it; it was also quite comfortable, nearly all of the time.
Taijo and my teacher, Nanae Tabusa
There were four of us serving tea: Mei-chan, Tabusa-san’s neice, Felicity, a visiting Australian high school exchange student, Taijo-kun, Yano-san’s 12 year old son, and me. We’d each serve a couple of times.
My turn came third round in, and was a complete disaster. I forgot everything I’d learned, and did everything backwards, which is my common failing in Japan. The two men I was making tea for were very kind, however, and tried to help me relax as I became increasingly nervous through the procedure. Luckily I seem to be able to make a passable cup of tea, even when I get the ritual completely wrong. Finally, trying to get up to take away the waste water container, I brought my left knee forward to stand and heard the soft sound of expensive fabric trying not to rip. Horrified, I looked over to my guests, who, looking very concerned, raised their hands, and said, in English, ‘slowly, slowly’.
Eventually I was able to stand up. I stepped off the felt tea surface into Yano-san’s zori, and walked under the cherry tree right there, to place the water container on a little table reserved for it…and walked straight into a low hanging branch I didn’t even realize was there. Standing still for a moment to collect my wits, I looked down and realized my zori had been knocked off my feet! Really. I almost laughed at that point, put them back on, and returned to the felt to bow and excuse my long suffering guests. They seemed well entertained.
Then I was privileged to watch Taisho-kun show me how to do it. He was great to watch, relaxed, totally focused, and wearing the most amazing emerald green hakama. He looked stunning against the red carpet, under the gently waving shadows of the cherry blossoms overhead. Way cool.
Tabusa san wanted to know if I’d learned anything. I said yes.
Later I found Yano-san wandering around in his bare feet (because I had his zori on…). I was appalled, and insisted he take them back. I served my second tea set in my sneakers.
Some time after this, I served tea to two young engineering students and their friend. It was much more relaxed, we talked and I enjoyed myself (still making mistakes, however!). But o-cha is about creating a relaxing experience as much as about making tea, and this round felt much closer…
Then we took some pictures, and I gave the kimono back to Yano-san. I was relieved to see that it appeared undamaged. I’d like to get one, but have not liberated the required $1,000 or so which would be a normal starting point...
I have discovered a mail order business, who buy old kimono, clean them (an expensive process where the kimono is deconstructed, dry cleaned, and re-sewn!) and sell them on the net.
I could buy the requisite inner and outer kimono, haori (a kind of overcoat), and hakama (pant things) for perhaps $500, plus another $100 for sori or geta, and wrappers. Some inner kimono and haori are hand painted works of art, signed by their painters.
My friend, Yoshio Tanaka
I signed up to serve again next April, so maybe I’ll get one this year.
