TEA CEREMONY

Recycled Cardiff Market shot from August 2005

In general, living in Britain for a year has not converted me from coffee to tea. But there is one thing about tea drinking that I hope to continue to have in my life. It took me nearly a year to realize how it works and what’s great about it, because I have made few friends here who I see in their homes. The main exception to that are my friends Phil and Oci. Phil is really the one I credit with teaching me about tea. Whenever he would come over casually to hang out, drop something off or whatever, we would do the greeting thing and then he would pause for a bit and then give in and ask me if he could have a cup of tea. (Not always, but I definitely remember it happening.) I still didn’t quite get that it’s what needs to happen whenever someone enters my home. Though I did note a trip where I went to pick up something from their house and Oci was out of town, so it was me going over and Phil inviting me in for a cup of tea. I accepted and we sat down for a tea-length chat. It was the first time I’d ever talked to Phil alone, as it usually works out that he’s over to hang out with Jason or that we’re all doing something as a foursome. It was quite cozy and felt like friendship.

More recently, I went to visit Oci and her friends and family for a campout weekend at her family’s field. Most drank tea, though some were happy to see that I’d brought my little camp coffee maker. There was no ritual. But on our way out, when we went to her step-grandmother’s house to drop off some things we had borrowed, she invited us in to tea. We accepted, and had a very pleasant tea-length talk. Tea-length talks are satisfying (unlike tea-length Gunne Sax dresses from the 80s). It’s enough time to pass along some interesting facts and opinions, to compare newspaper preferences and slightly revealing bits of family history. Later, when we got to Oci’s shared house, her roommate was there cooking dinner and immediately offered us tea, warming and welcoming and nice. The next day, Oci and I got up and had tea in our pajamas before breakfast.. And then later, when we were wandering around Greenwich looking at the Prime Meridian and the Cutty Sark we stopped by her mom’s house to say hi, were offered a cup of tea, accepted, and had a nice perfect-length conversation about the house, childhood, how the times they are a-changin’ etc. Then we helped move a dresser downstairs and were on our way.

It was that weekend that finally, after more than a year in the UK, really settled in my mind what tea is good for. The time it takes to make and drink a cup of tea is the perfect length of time for small, but meaningful conversations with new acquaintances, lingering musings with close friends, and cozy breaks in otherwise hectic days. It’s a small commitment with a definite end, and means that neither party need feel that they’re being kept from whatever important things they might be doing that day. Even stopping by unannounced is not a problem if a cup of tea is an easy timekeeper. Obviously, one or the other could then suggest a walk, or another cup of tea, or whatever other extension device is appropriate, and if it sounds nice, which it often does, things can continue from there. But having given, or accepted, tea is always an acceptable total interaction, so either party can then extricate themselves gracefully with social comfort and warmth still intact. It seems perfect to me. I think I’ll bring the ritual home with me to the States. But I think it works for coffee too, so don’t be afraid I’m going to try to get you to drink milky white Earl Grey when you ring my doorbell. But I do recommend you give it a try.