No one likes to talking about Burma . . . or Myanmar . . . or whatever it’s calling itself, now.
Photo by David Blackwell.
Even the name of the country is a hotly contested issue. At college parties, whenever some Eastern Philosophy major brought up Buddhism as an example of a nonviolent religion, all someone had to do was say, “Myanmar.” Or Burma. Or whatever!
Over the last year or so, I’ve expressed my . . . displeasure with detox culture. I particularly took issue with the belief that someone could eliminate “toxins” from their body by ingesting weird herbs and other unlikely ingredients (like literal silver and gold). When talk of these practices spilled over into my tea life (in the form of “teatoxing”), I grew more vocal in my vehemence.
I made the same counter claims as many other tea friends did. Examples: (1) Unless you had overdosed on a drug or were exposed to an actual poison, detoxing wasn’t necessary. (2) Anything in trace amounts wasn’t overly harmful. (3) “Toxins”—as a malicious, invisible entity—were as mythical as fairy dust. And finally, (4) if someone had a workable liver and kidney(s), their body had all it needed to do the natural detoxing for them. If they didn’t have those . . . they were probably dead already.
Of course, my online ravings fell squarely on deaf ears. My corner of the tea Internet was way below the radar of the twentysomethings, fashionistas, health food folks, and . . . well . . . pretty much everyone, really. I even had to distance myself from a tea shop I loved because they started hocking detox drinks.
The only way I could get through to people was to finally come clean. For you see? When I was in my twenties, I was one of them. This is . . .
Two weeks ago, I attended the Northwest Tea Festival.
For both days, even!
It was an epic time of tea drunkenness and cuppa camaraderie. But when the time came to actually write about the two-day tea-stravaganza . . . I had nothing to say. Sure, I drank a lot of tea, met new people, reunited with old friends and contacts, but there was no story there. I drank, I saw, and then I trained home. That was pretty much it. If you want full(er) accounts on the tea fest, I suggest visiting The Oolong Owl and Delights of the Heart. Their coverage was pretty comprehensive, and I probably couldn’t have said it better. (Or more concisely.)
The festive weekend, however, did serve one weird purpose. It was a springboard for a few stories that I need to tell. This is one of them:
The first day of the tea fest, I stopped by the Young Mountain Tea booth a couple of times. One, to talk to the owner, Raj Vable, again—since I hadn’t seen him in (what felt like) years; two, I wanted to meet his guest of honor. Rajah Banerjee, owner and manager of the Makaibari tea estate in Darjeeling.
Rajah Banerjee and Raj Vable
In the spring of 2013, I tried a tisane made from the dried leaves of a Hawaiian coffee plant.
Arabica coffee plant. Image owned by Wize Monkey.
And I wasn’t a fan.
The flavor was not overly offensive, just . . . herbal. And nutty. Nutty-herbal. Okay, on “Internet” paper that doesn’t sound too terrible or unappetizing, but it wasn’t very palatable, either. It reminded me of nettle leaf that had gone slightly off. It would take another two years before I’d revisit the prospect of trying it again.
At World Tea Expo 2015, such an opportunity arose. The culprit? Wize Monkey.
It’s officially the first day of September. The outside temperature has dropped twenty degrees. Skies are gray, and big-ass raindrops are falling. Yep, summer time is just about over.
And I couldn’t be happier.
Not that I bear summer any ill will in general, and not that this summer was bad, but—y’see?—I’m a fall kid at heart. However, to usher summer’s drunk arse out the door, I thought I’d reflect on the good moments of the last three heat-searing months. And, of course, all those great moments involved tea. And, sometimes, even people.
In order to wrap up the summer in a quickie fashion, Rachel “I Heart Teas” Carter gave me permission to mooch her “Photo Micro-Blogging” format. Just this once. Brace yourself, it’s time for a breakneck Summer Time Tea . . .
It was the last day of World Tea Expo, and I seemed to have lost my “Way”.
That’s how I felt that morning—kinda lost. Rousting out of bed was difficult, as per usual. But today was particularly hard. Last days of anything usually are. To kick the tiredness to the curb, I went from zero-to-“wake-the-hell-up” with a yaupon RTD.
It did the trick.
Let me tell you a little about my “Tea Uncle”, Austin Hodge.
Austin Hodge and I. Photo by Nicole Schwartz.
Why is he wearing a Zhong Shan Zhuang, and how did someone convince me to wear a suit? I’ll get to that.
I needed a vacation.
And I needed it as soon as possible.
That was probably why—when I planned it—I decided to leave for Las Vegas four days earlier than I really needed to. The original intent was to go down just for the days of World Tea Expo. Well, I decided to tack on a few additional vacation days to that. And Naomi “Joy’s Teaspoon” Rosen was to put me up (and put up with me) for those extra days.
What occurred could best (and simply) be described as “tea-fueled tourism”.
Seven Days of Seven Cups, Day 3 – “Ba Xian: Oolong of the Eight Immortals”
Ba Xian literally means “Eight Immortals” in Chinese. The name refers to the tea plant cultivar used to create this particularly odd Wuyi oolong, but it also has a legend attached to it. Don’t they all?
The name is a direct reference to eight legendary heroes in Chinese mythology, particularly the Taoist tradition.
Ba Xian or “Eight Immortals”
I don’t get out much these days. For tea or anything else.
Not sure if it’s by accident or by design, but in the last couple of months, I’ve preferred to take tea at home. Perhaps it’s the allure of the natural light hitting my personal tea tray, or the sheer ease of never having to leave my pajamas. Or, maybe still, it’s the given fact that most of my tea friends are in other parts of the country – nay, the world!
There is one drawback, though.
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