My Brew Heaven: The Chinese "Way of Tea" in Today's Taiwan

The humorist Lin Yutang once de-scribed the Chinese as people who "can be happy anywhere so long as they have a teapot." The Chinese people have developed a tea industry and raised the art of tea drinking to levels rarely seen elsewhere in the world.

The morning sunlight on Yangming Mountain is beautiful to behold. Here a group of tea lovers meets to maximize the aesthetic value of their tea-drinking.

Sadly, after Chinese tea culture reached an apogee-following centuries of development in the Tang, Song, and Ming dynasties-it declined in the late Qing during a period of war and revolution. However, at about the same time, in Taiwan, right across the water, the elegant art of tea drinking developed into a recreational and family activity. Thus did "Taiwan tea culture" succeed to the Chinese tradition.

"The tea leaves are new／ the water is fresh／ Fresh water to make tea／ to give to the one I love!" Tea mountain love songs have not been heard for a long time, but vistas of verdant tea-covered mountains are still common. This is a tea farm in the area of Lungtan in northern Taiwan.

It is five o'clock in the morning, and Yangming Mountain is wrapped in a blanket of darkness. Yet there are already scattered sounds of human activity in the manicured area at the front of the park. There are 10 or so visitors, carrying baskets and pots in their hands, or shouldering cloth or straw mats. It is not long before they all sit down, light their small stoves, and open their baskets to bring out all kinds of tea paraphernalia.Tea at sunrise

It turns out they have come to make tea. Along the banks of a small lake, the tea lovers spread their mats on the ground. The grass, trees, insects, fish, and stones of the lakeside form an improvised backdrop. Trays, decanters (into which the tea is poured from the steeping pot, and from which the tea is poured into the cups), and cups are all set out in their proper order. The tea lovers look left and right, moving a teacup here, turning a teapot spout there, or even embellishing the flowers in the vases with branches or leaves. Everything has to be pleasing to the eye before anything else can be done.

The sky gradually lightens. When the tea mats and background props are finally arranged-including the tea utensils, coordinated colors of the fresh flowers in the vases, the color scheme and overall ambience, even the attire of the master of ceremonies-everything comes together to form a coherent whole. One tea setting presents a vision of layers of purple; a vegetable basket off to the side lends a bucolic touch. Another is coffee colored with a touch of grey, setting a light and frisky mood. And there is also a setting which is entirely blue, the individual pieces of teaware looking like cool observers standing off to one side.

Each setting has its own "tea server" (who is the master of ceremonies, though not necessarily a "tea master"). When the tea server is seated, he or she begins to make tea. Steaming and bubbling, boiling water is poured into a little teapot, then the water-which for the first pouring is only designed to warm up and wash the tea leaves-is poured out. The tea server then opens the little pot and allows his or her guests to look at the tea leaves that have just been soaked by the hot water. The still not yet fully opened tea leaves have a slightly burnt fragrance; you can imagine what it must have been like when they were being dried over an open fire.

The tea servers begin to introduce the teas and where they come from. At one table is tea said to be from last year's winter crop on Mount Ali. This will be the last prepared, as it is already impossible to buy it on the market. At that table, the host says, there is Huangshan Maofeng spring-crop green tea (from Anhui in mainland China), which is truly a rare and superior product.

The tea server at one mat is an elegant but spirited high school girl. As the others watch her, she somewhat shyly prepares the first pot. When the guests have drunk the tea, someone says "It's a little bitter, but also a little sweet." Some guests think: "That's just like people the age of the hostess herself." How well this fits with the traditional idea that a person's character is reflected in the flavor of the tea they brew.

With the second infusion-a fresh pouring of water over the same leaves-the sweet fragrance of the high mountain tea begins to drift out. By the third steeping, the aroma has reached a peak. By the fourth pot, the darker, fuller taste has begun to recede, and the lighter, sweet taste returns. One of the guests exclaims, "You can still smell the aroma in the bottom of the cup!"

When true tea experts evaluate tea, besides noting its color, aroma, and flavor, they can also tell how the tea has been processed, and even whether or not it is tea from a different growing season. （photo by Vincent Chang）

Following this pattern, they go through six rounds of tea. The tea servers dump the already fully opened (and thus exhausted) tea leaves into the trays, which take on the appearance of tables of famous culinary delights set out for everyone to admire. Looking at the leaves, one aficionado says: "That's just what classic good tea should look like, with one center leaf and two branching leaves."Pot of goldM

This was the scene at a tea class sponsored by the Ching Hsiang Chi Way of Tea Association on Yangming Mountain this August. It is also part of the efforts led by the Taiwan Tea Museum to "reinvigorate the Chinese 'Way of Tea.'" Hsieh Chih-chang, an instructor at the Association, explains that most of these activities are deliberately held in the mountains in early morning, "in hopes of taking people out of their normal surroundings." The purpose of the extremely meticulous arrangements-from the rituals and the patterned exchanges between hosts and guests, and the utensils, prepared with loving attention to detail, to the tea snacks, flowers, and even the arrangement of the tea mats-"is to create a distance between the world of tea and the mundane world," she says.

Chinese have been drinking tea for thousands of years, and it has long been a routine part of daily life. It appears in the traditional Chinese list of "essential items" for the kitchen, right up there with rice, soy sauce, oil, firewood, salt and vinegar. The late Lin Yutang described it as "a widespread custom that has added much color to everyday life of the people." How is it that this kind of tea tradition, in 1990s Taiwan, has been turned around, and has the aim of "creating distance between the tea world and the mundane world"?

Hsieh Chih-chang points out that if tea is too close to people's lives, it becomes "commonplace." Thus, "everybody drinks tea, but the vast majority of people have no feeling about it." In her Way of Tea class, she invites everyone, regardless of whether in the classroom or in a natural setting, to lift the restraints on their sense of texture and smell, to really taste the tea in every exquisite detail, and to really feel the aesthetic beauty of all the various accoutrements related to tea.

The purpose of all this is to "to express the beauty of the tea world to its fullest extent." Through the various rituals and steps of the ceremony-warming the pots, setting out the cups, setting out the tea, infusion, the sniffing of the aroma, the pouring of the tea, the observation of the tea, and the tasting and evaluation of its flavor-the most important thing is "cultivating one's heart." That is to say: to sit tranquilly, with peace of mind, and reflect on oneself.

Let's talk about the development of the art of tea in Taiwan. The refined and elegant form observed in the activities to "reinvigorate the Chinese Way of Tea" is one branch.

This tea shop in Paiho Township in Tainan County has been operated for t hree generations. Its tea is packaged entirely by hand. The white-haired boss says that yo u have to get the angle just right, that's the only way the tea will be "squared away"--bo th for appearance and permeability to air. This technique of wrapping has nearly been lost in Taiwan's tea industry. The large characters on the tin cans behind the owner are all famous tea growing areas of the past in mainland China.

However, in Taiwan, drinking tea in this "elegant" way-with tiny tea pots, warm cups, and the sniffing of the aroma-is not limited to the affluent leisure class. The only difference is in the "environment in which the tea is prepared, the people with whom you associate, and the degree of beauty of the teapots and other implements," says Lu Li-chih, who served two terms as director of the China Tea Arts Friendship Association. When the organization holds activities, among those who participate are construction workers, truck drivers, and other working-class people. But when it comes to tea, there is no chewing of betelnut and no swearing-they assume elegant postures and everything is done according to the Way.From "tea soup" to little pots of tea

Looking back into history, how far back does this "elegant" manner of tea drinking go? How did the currently most popular method used in tea houses these days-using small tea pots, tea boats, and so on-come about?

Cheng Pei-kai, a professor of Chinese culture at the City University of Hong Kong, points out that there is a clear documentary record of the Chinese custom of tea drinking. This record can be traced back 2300 years to the Warring States Period. However, prior to the Tang Dynasty, Chinese drank tea like they "drank vegetable soup." Tea leaves were just dumped into a pot of boiling water and cooked.

It was only in the Tang and Song period that the court and the upper classes in society developed the method which is still used today in the Japanese Way of Tea: Bricks of processed tea (then round in shape, and thus called "round tea") were ground into small bits, and then either boiling water was added to the tea powder and whisked, or the ground tea was placed in a teapot of boiling water.

At that time, Chinese mainly drank unfermented tea. It was only later that semi-fermented oolong tea and fully fermented black teas were developed.

The large-scale consumption among Chinese people of "leaf tea" (tea leaves that had been cured over a fire) only began when the founder of the Ming Dynasty, by imperial edict, banned the use of "round tea" and compelled the use of leaf tea for the offering of tribute by his subjects. It only goes back 300 years.

It was only much later, in the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, that significant numbers of Chinese made their way to Taiwan. It was in the middle of the Qing Dynasty that tea bushes were transplanted to Taiwan from Wuyishan in Fujian Province. Thus it is extremely natural that the method of tea drinking to which Taiwan is heir is that of using leaf tea steeped in boiling water.

Chang Hung-yung, a professor in the Department of Chinese at National Tsing Hua University and an expert on tea, notes that in modern history (that is to say, from the Kangxi reign of the Qing Dynasty to retrocession), there were a number of different ways of drinking tea. These included shahu (the use of a very large clay tea pot), gaiwan (covered individual bowls), cha'niangpao (the "tea girl steeping" method, using a large pot with several small cups), and gongfu (using a very small pot to infuse the tea leaves).

In Taiwan, the first three methods have not been carried forward to any great extent. It has been the fourth, gongfu tea, which has become the most popular method of tea preparation since the 1970s, when the art of tea was given a big boost among the public.

The gongfu tea method originated in the Chaozhou region of Guangdong and was popular in Fujian and Guangdong provinces. It spread during the period lasting from the Qianlong reign of the Qing Dynasty through the early Republican era.

However, its meaning changed considerably after coming to Taiwan. Of course there were still people in Taiwan who were meticulous about their tea, as revealed in the tea poem by Lien Heng, author of A History of Taiwan: "A Ruo Shen cup, a Meng Chen teapot/ And a Geyao tray are carefully laid out/ Investing great effort to infuse the renowned tea/ The flavor of each cup surpasses that of tihu wine." (Ruo Shen and Meng Chen were famous ceramic artisans, Geyao a famous pottery and porcelain area, and tihu an elegant type of wine.)

But such people were not in the majority. Taiwan in the Qing dynasty era was still primarily a pioneering agricultural society. People were not very particular about their tea utensils, nor about the environment in which the tea was consumed."Old man" tea? "Leisurely spirit" tea?

Summarizing the descriptions of various people in the tea community, we can describe the so-called "common gongfu tea method" as follows: It employs one small deep-red-earthenware teapot, with four small clay cups. The tea cups are glazed on the inside. The tea cups and pot are placed together on a ceramic "tea boat" (chachuan, a deep bowl). When the tea is steeped, boiling water is not only poured into the pot, but fills the chachuan. The four cups and the outside of the pot are thus also "steeped." A skilled tea server can show off by making the cups, bobbing lightly in the water, produce a charming jingling sound. The purpose of pouring boiling water over the pot and cups in the "tea boat" is to keep everything warm and also to wash out the cups between rounds.

This way of tea drinking devotes little attention to the elegance of the tea utensils; it is also not very sanitary. In the old days, there were many tea houses along the Chunghua Road market offering Fujian-style "old man tea," with old people gathered together alongside temples and under the trees. Today, you can still come across such scenes in central and southern Taiwan in the countryside, and next to the day-labor market in Taipei. This is how the gongfu tea method came to be called "old man tea."

Meanwhile, the gentry gave the gongfu method yet another name: lanshen, or "the spirit of leisure." Chen Huan-tang, who grew up on a tea growing mountain in Nantou County, and is a third-generation tea grower, offers an explanation as to why people in the older generation in Taiwan used this term. He says that the term is slightly sarcastic, since this type of tea drinking was seen as rather flashy, as an attempt to show off that one was "part of the trendy leisure class."

Wu Chen-tuo, known as "Dr. Tea," holds in his hand a brick of tea that he carried with him when he left mainland China. "When we came to Taiwan, we didn't bring anything, we only remembered to bring this block of tea, " says his wife. Wu's tea career began in mainland China's Wuyishan tea growing region, and he has been in the tea industry since coming to Taiwan. It is almost as long as the 50-year existence of his tea brick.

Taiwan has had its own tea-growing industry since the late Qing Dynasty. In postwar Taiwan, prior to economic takeoff, how did ordinary people usually drink tea? As Chen Huan-tang describes it: "They just took a few stems of tea and threw them in the teapot, then boiled of a big pot of tea." Obviously tea has served a number of different functions: relieving thirst, flaunting fashionability, and as a casual collective activity.Not in the tea leaves?

After Taiwan was returned to ROC rule after World War II, in the midst of the Chinese Civil War, as many as two million people came from mainland China to Taiwan. Tea drinking entered a period of diversity. At that time, standing opposite to the Fujian style tea houses in the Chunghua Road market were "old mainland soldier tea houses," often called qingcha ("clear tea") houses.

Hsien Chih-chang, who is very familiar with tea house history, says that in the Fujian-style tea houses they drank semi-fermented teas, mainly oolong and tieguanyin teas; these were usually steeped in small earthenware pots. In the "mainlander" tea houses, people drank mostly very lightly fermented teas (which come under the generic name qingcha, thus the nickname for these tea houses); these were prepared in large cups rather than tiny teapots.

Why would older people from different provincial origins have different ways of drinking tea? Hsieh says that this is quite natural. "In the region south of the Yangzi River, lightly fermented longjing tea was most popular, and heat-resistant glass cups are most suitable for steeping it. Oolong tea, on the other hand, has a higher degree of fermentation, and it is more flavorful to use more permeable purple earthenware pots," she explains.

At that time, besides tea houses, there were also numerous tea stands, located under trees in parks or at the entrances to temples. They were surrounded by an air of leisure and fun rare in pre-industrial Taiwan. Hsieh Chih-chang recalls that on Yangming mountain near the hot springs there used to be a stand that sold tea and even threw in a bamboo recliner for free. At that time, she was a university student, and she often went, book in hand, to while away the afternoon. Cool winds blew through the trees, and birds sang and insects chirped. She can still remember the relaxed atmosphere with elderly people, baby carriages, children, and entire families all enjoying themselves.

It seems that tea has always been inseparable from a leisurely atmosphere. But in the eyes of some tea aficionados, the old man tea houses or tea stands placed more emphasis on chess, meeting friends, or whiling away the time than on the tea itself. Thus they were not truly of the art of tea. So when did people in Taiwan really become serious about drinking tea, taking special care with everything from the tea leaves to the utensils to the atmosphere? In the words of Chan Hsun-hwa, a tea merchant who is very clear about the development of the tea industry in Taiwan, this only happened "in the middle 1970s, when Taiwan tea went from being largely exported to consumed domestically."Taiwan oolong: the prodigal child

Sometimes historical developments are really strange. According to Cheng Pei-kai, the art of Chinese tea reached peaks in the Tang, Song, and Ming dynasties, but near the end of the Qing Dynasty, in the 1890s, tea manufacturing and the tea drinking arts fell into decline due to war and revolution. How ironic, then, that it was just when tea culture was declining in China that, just across the water in Taiwan, the tea culture model of the Ming and Qing dynasties was taken up.

Historical sources say that the first tea plants in Taiwan were brought in from Wuyishan in Fujian in the Jiaqing reign period of the Qing Dynasty (1796-1820). During the Song and Ming dynasties, Wuyishan had already become famous for manufacturing highly refined teas which were sent to the Imperial household. The type of tea brought into Taiwan during the Qing Dynasty was oolong tea. This was first planted in the Wenshan district, and afterwards along the Tanshui river. It is said that near Shihting in northern Taiwan, tea bushes more than 100 years old still survive.

After Taiwan was opened to trade in the late Qing dynasty, tea became one of its main export products. Wu Chen-tuo, former director of the Taiwan Tea Improvement Station, who holds the honorable title "Dr. Tea," notes that in 1869 a British merchant shipped high-grade northern Taiwan tea made in a Wanhua plant to New York under the label "Formosa tea." Wu says: "Not only did it sell for a high price, it earned a great reputation." Thereafter, a number of British merchants abandoned their habit of buying crude tea in Taiwan and shipping it to Fuzhou for refining and Macao for trial sales. They switched over to doing refining of oolong tea directly in Taiwan. This was the first brush with worldwide fame for Taiwan oolong tea.

After the Japanese occupation, demand in the world tea market led to the planting of large amounts of black tea in Taiwan's main tea production areas of Taoyuan, Hsinchu, and Miaoli. However, prior to WWII, semi-fermented oolong and pouchong (baozong) were still the main export products.

The main impact of Japanese management on Taiwan's tea industry was the establishment of tea-breeding and tea-refining experimental stations in various locations. The Japanese also encouraged tea farmers to establish tea-refining cooperatives and tea-marketing associations, thus laying the foundations for mechanization and modern marketing for Taiwan's tea industry.

A sniffing cup is one of the main accoutrements for Taiwan-style gongfu tea making （characterized by use of a very small pot to steep tea）. Its design is meant to cool the tea, concentrate the aroma, and to be clearly distinguishablerom the teacup proper. It is said that the gongfu tea style which got its start in Fujian and Guangdong provinces in China did not have sniffing cups. This type of cup was only developed with the refinement of tea appreciation in Taiwan.

After the island was returned to Chinese rule, tea was still exported. But by the middle of the 1970s, the export price of Taiwan tea fell dramatically. In order to prevent the already developed tea farms from collapsing, and thus adversely affecting farmers' incomes, the government worked to create a domestic market for tea. By this time, Taiwan's tea industry had already had more than a century of development behind it.Prize-winning teas

Compared to the thousand-plus years of tea making in mainland China, a century or so of development for Taiwan tea may seem like a short period. However, by the end of this 100 years-which included the Japanese occupation era and postwar use of mechanization and scientific methods-Taiwan's tea making crafts reached unprecedented heights, especially for special local teas (baozong, oolong, and tieguanyin).

Chan Hsun-hwa notes that the first province-wide tea competition was held in the 1975 in Luku Rural Township in Nantou County, famous for its dongding oolong tea. The first-place tea and was sold for NT$4200 per Taiwan catty (at that time the export price for unprocessed tea leaves was NT$12 per Taiwan catty). Since "large rewards bring out heroism," from this point on the tea growing areas competed to make the production of wonderfully aromatic teas their first priority.

Chang Chih-yang of the Chang Hsieh Hsing tea shop in Mucha recalls the intense competition of those times. One tea farmer, in an effort to make sure that the judges were fair, deliberately divided the same batch of processed tea into two bags and submitted them under different names. In the end they both won special mention. Another time, the farmer used three names, and the judges were still not fooled. All three were rated "top grade."

One judge challenged in the above stories was none other than Wu Chen-tuo. In 1984, before he retired, he was always one of the most important judges in any competition anywhere in Taiwan. It is said that besides the exterior qualities of appearance, fragrance, and taste, he could tell at a glance such things as the tea refinement process, such as whether or not it was raining on the day the tea was picked, the length of exposure to sunlight, the type of tea leaves, and even whether or not they were from a previous season.

Chen Huan-tang states that it is relatively easy to make distinctions among lightly cured teas because the flavor is relatively "clean" and distinct. But more strongly cured teas have a deep smokey flavor, so it is by no means easy to make such incredibly refined distinctions. Wu's ability to judge teas "right down to the roots," including when they were grown and how they were processed, is no less than that of the renowned tea aficionados of old.

Lai Meng-hsun of the Wu Wei Tsao Tang Company points out that most of the tea produced in Taiwan is oolong tea, so the ability to judge oolong tea is correspondingly more refined. Wu Wei Tsao Tang in fact sells only oolong teas, "since we are fortunate enough to be located at the foot of the mountains of the oolong tea growing area," explains Lai. (The most famous oolong tea growing areas in Taiwan, including Luku-famous for dongding oolong-Shanlin River, Lishan, and Fushoushan-known for "high mountain oolong"-are at high elevations along the transportation networks in central Taiwan.)

There are many different kinds of oolong tea, including lightly cured Shanlin River high mountain, medium-fired smokey dongding, Ali Mountain variety, and even yancha (dried, then set aside for five years, then cured the traditional way, over a charcoal fire-as opposed to the modern methods of natural gas flame or electric heat curing). There are also all manner of aromas-dark, robust or sweet-and of flavors. The variety of grades of Taiwan oolong shows how far its manufacture has progressed.What's the best way?

From the history of the development of Taiwan tea, it appears that the era from the 1970s through the 1980s was one in which the line that had formerly divided Taiwan tea culture into separate "gentry" and "commoner" classes blurred. Hsieh Chih-chang points out that at that time, the economic situation obviously played a critical role: "Everyone was getting wealthier, and could afford to buy good tea." And because they were paying a significant amount for the tea, they wanted the utensils and the surroundings to match, so they began being more meticulous about these elements. Thus did a culture of refined appreciation for tea spread among the general public.

The culture of tea appreciation began to take root. In 1977, the first gongfu tea house opened on Linsen North Road in Taipei City. In sharp contrast to the laid-back attitude of the "old man tea" houses and lanshen tea houses, "the China Gongfu Tea House was designed like a Suzhou garden, emphasizing the classical Chinese style, in hopes that customers could, amidst their busy practical lives, enjoy the warm surroundings of graceful music and fragrant tea." This description comes from Chang Ming-hsiung's book A Journey Through Taiwan Tea Culture. Similar tea houses appeared in large numbers in urban areas in the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s.

Tea houses not only sold exquisite teas from specially designated mountains, they also spread "tea culture." That is to say, besides selling tea, they also taught customers the rudiments of the "Way of Tea." They not only emphasized the refined understanding of tea leaves, water temperature and tea utensils, they also emphasized proper posture and forms. "Tea art classes" appeared in large numbers.

Tsai Jung-chang, former general manager of the Lu Yu Tea Art Company, says that the preparation of tea may seem a small matter, but to do it right requires great attention to detail. Take for example simply lifting the teapot. He suggests that people lift the water pot and the teapot at the same time, using their right hands to take the water pot from the stove while holding the teapot in their left hand. He recommends against lifting just the water pot, because "this looks unbalanced and feels insecure."

Also, when pouring the boiled water into the little pot, the water kettle should be held high in the air over the tea pot, with the water flowing out like a waterfall, to avoid "the unpleasant sensation of the water being dumped in like irrigation water." He adds: "There will only be a graceful feeling if it is done in a refined way." When pouring the tea from the small pot, one should not shake the pot strongly. "This is too intense, and even creates the impression that the server is so anxious that others feel squeezed," he says.

Like many forms of traditional culture, the art of tea is a full circle. Whether the place you enter will lead you to the real "Way of Tea" depends on the practitioner.

Lu Li-chih, who today is still a tea art teacher, talks about the correct posture to use in offering a guest a cup of tea, which should be done with both hands. One must "not be too forward and familiar, and yet not so polite as to create an atmosphere of excessive formality," he says. The ability to do this depends on the judgment, character and intelligence of the server in being able to grasp the appropriate level of behavior.In search of the Chinese Way of Tea

Besides the discussions of tea etiquette, many people are also talking about how to improve the gongfu tea method. For example, is it really necessary to have so many tea utensils, including tea boats, sniffing cups, tea trays, decanters, and tea scoops? Couldn't one just have one teapot and two cups? Indeed, is it absolutely necessary to use the traditional tiny earthenware teapot? Could one not use the horizontally handled Tang style teapot? Or even not use any pot at all, but simply use covered bowls? As Chang Chih-yang says: "Tea utensils can develop from the very simple to the very complex, and may return again to the simple style. It seems that tea drinking methods in Taiwan today are somewhere between the two extremes."

Another point of discussion among those in the tea world is the spirit of the "Way of Tea" and its relationship to life.

"China has developed a highly refined art of tea. But has China developed a true 'Way of Tea,' corresponding to the Japanese 'Way of Tea' that everyone knows? What is the Chinese Way of Tea?"

One could argue that the Bible of the Chinese way of tea is the Classic of Tea written more than 1000 years ago in the Tang Dynasty by Lu Yu. We might get some answers from this source. The second volume, besides recording special knacks to preparing tea, also notes some attitudes and methods to the way Chinese drink tea.

For example, it says, one must drink tea in its natural state, without adding fruits or spices or flavoring. Also, one should drink tea sparingly rather than gulping down cup after cup; one should not drink like a cow. As the character Miao Yu said in the Qing Dynasty novel Dream of the Red Chamber: "One cup is tasting, two cups is an indulgence to relieve thirst, and three cups is the drinking of a mule."

In other words, when Chinese people drink tea, they are not merely drinking for the taste. They also wish to enter the tea "state of mind." Moreover, this state has many levels. And like chewing on a stick of sugar cane, the deeper you get the better it is.

The Tang dynasty literati Lu Tong once sent a friend named Xie a poem about tea, the now famous Seven Bowls of Tea. This is its meaning: The first bowl wets the throat and lips/ (Tea can provide an immediate lift by "wetting your whistle.") The second bowl breaks the stifled feeling in your heart/ (It can open your heart and dispel sadness.) The third bowl reaches into your dried-up insides, and you can write 5000 volumes/ (It clears the brain and reaches all the way down to the pit of your stomach, breaking through writer's block so that you can write endless volumes.) The fourth bowl releases a light sweat, and the unpleasant matters of mundane life escape through your pores/ (You feel relaxed, and sweat slightly, as if in a warming sauna, and the trivia of daily life that often is so annoying disappears with the sweat.) The fifth bowl cleanses the muscles and skin/ (You feel an incredible sense of well-being.) The sixth bowl opens the way to the spirit/ (You feel your mind and spirit set free.)

Finally, Lu Tong advises people not to continue on, because the woundrousness of the flavor of the next bowl could cause one to become so removed from the cares of daily life that one would become light enough to be blown off to Penglai, Island of the Immortals: The seventh bowl cannot be drunk/ You would feel the wind under your arms/ Where can Penglai Mountain be found?/ Yu Chuan Zi sails there on this breeze.What bowl of tea are you on?

In Taiwan today, there are few people who can enjoy tea to the point of being "carried away." The people who have been drinking tea over the last two decades have, in fact, been perhaps a little too serious. They want to derive some great wisdom or something from tea drinking, and spout all kinds of platitudes, just like commercials: "Behind the Chinese drinking of tea is a quest for purity, tranquillity, peace, and elegance." "The four requirements of the Way of Tea are aesthetics, health, self-cultivation, and ethics." "The spirit of the art of tea lies in purity, respect, freedom from worry and truth." "Through the art of tea you can observe yourself, and build relationships with others." Such statements sound like a renaissance for traditional culture, and a call to an ideal lifestyle.

So, is tea culture in the 1990s Taiwan simply growing refinement of utensils and of the settings for tea appreciation, plus the pursuit of the "Chinese Way of Tea" by aficionados?

Faced with this atmosphere of a tea culture that is refined and elegant, cultural critic Lin Ku-fang reminds tea lovers: "Drinking tea, the cup is narrow, but you must always be broad-minded." If tea is too close to life, it is too material. In drinking tea there is no need to place so much emphasis on fragrance, "famous-label" utensils or the external appearance of the tea leaves.

"To stop for a sip of tea in our busy lives and to take a moment of recreation is of course a good thing. But there are many things that are not enjoyable about life." says Lin, adding that the important thing should be to understand all of life. "Tea drinking can get too materialistic. If there is no self-awareness, if one is not careful, one will drown in it. What is really different between over-refinement and the drinking of a cow? Both of them driven by natural cravings, and both are just the pursuit of pleasure, aren't they?"

Tea used to be just another farm product, and tea drinking was a part of people's daily lives. But steeped in thousands of years of Chinese culture, the drinking of tea has developed flavor, wisdom, a state of mind, and other grand themes which can be connected to human life.

So I ask you, the tea aficionado, playing with your cups, with your elegant tea-pouring posture: What bowl of tea are you on?