Paul greeting Red Szao women in Northern Vietnam

What in the world does a warm cup of water and some herbs have to do with uncovering Life’s meaning? Or fostering peace amongst the people of planet earth?

Discover how the power of Tea Ceremony turns simple, ritualized acts into transformative, life altering experiences.

Sixty kilometers east of Hanoi, our metal, flat-bottomed skiff plied the muddied shallows of the Yen River, past the foot of the Mountain of the Perfume Traces. A short way up from the river sat the Perfume Pagoda, one of northern Vietnam’s most popular sites of worship during the Tet Holiday season.

Tet is Vietnam’s lunar new years, a popular time for families to get together for meals, fellowship and prayer. The Perfume Pagoda, Chua Huong Tich, dedicated to Quan Am, the guardian Spirit of Mother and Child, is one of several shrines built into the limestone caves of this lush, mountainous region.

The beauty of the Yen River

Our short glide up the river left my friend and guide, Tuan, relaxed and happy.  I thanked our pretty oarswoman, Tuan translating, and we disembarked.  Before getting on with the next leg of our pilgrimage to the pagoda cave, Tuan suggested a ‘comfort stop’, his term for a short rest, beverage and snack.

A cool breeze rippled the river and sent the moored sampans bobbing. We walked a few minutes before arriving at a rough and ready little market where Tuan found us a wobbly table in a tarp-covered, makeshift restaurant, filled with the infamous, Asian low plastic stools.

On this late morning, I was the standout white guy, the token American who within minutes had drawn a small crowd of village children, gawking, laughing and pointing, amused at me as if I’d come in dressed as a clown. While my Vietnamese vocabulary extends to a few dozen phrases, I take pride in my ability to at least imitate the language’s six tones.

If I was to be the morning’s entertainment, I figured why not play it to the hilt? I hit the youngsters with a few of my best lines: “I swam up river. No boat! No boat for me!”

Tuan and I did a Laurel and Hardy shtick, where he’d whisper my fun observations back to me in Vietnamese that I would then parrot back to the crowd.
“Where are you from?” one boy asked in English.
“I am from Wei!” I bluffed, giving him the name of a seaside city on the central coast.

Tuan, familiar with my routines, set about ordering a few dishes of sautéed vegetables and tofu, rice, pho, a thinly sliced meat and rice noodle dish, and Vietnamese coffee. I’d come to love this sweet concoction of condensed milk, sugar and chicory flavored coffee beans.

Out of nowhere, a middle-aged man with a husky build and a scowl imposed himself on our languid meal. Plastic stool in hand, he plunked down opposite our spot, leaned in and began upbraiding me in rapid-fire Vietnamese, his spittle adding an un-welcomed new flavor to my pho. Too overwhelmed by the intrusion to respond, I darted Tuan a look that said, “Am I in trouble here?”

Tuan too was speechless. I couldn’t understand a word of the Vietnamese, but when he began pantomiming gunfire, it was hard to misread his play by play of what I guessed to be U.S. violence against his countrymen during the American War. He didn’t look as if he was going to heave my bowl of pho in my face as much as let my American ass fill a need to unburden some seriously pent up anger.

“He’s talking about the war with America. He’s talking about the past,” I say to Tuan.
Tuan nodded.
Our aggressive, uninvited guest’s diatribe begins to lose momentum, an opening I took to respond.
“Tell him,” I said to Tuan, “the past is called the past… because it’s in the past.”
The angry man’s face drew a blank and he stopped screaming at me. He rose, withdrawing from our table as abruptly as he’d appeared. The children recoiled a bit but lingered, all traces of smiles and mischief gone from their faces.

What was left of my meal was nudged to the side, as I turned to Tuan to get the check in hopes of retreat. I feared I hadn’t seen the last of our visitor. When the waiter came, I handed my wallet to Tuan who fished out enough money to cover our tab. I felt a bit too jarred to even bid the children adieu. I just wanted to get out of there, when the man reappeared suddenly, marching toward us.

A peace offering - tea for three

To my relief, I saw that it wasn’t a firearm or machete he held in his hand, but what looked to be a turquoise teapot and three small cups.

It was the same man and it wasn’t. His entire demeanor had changed. I still couldn’t understand his words, but his voice was filled with warmth. He pressed on my shoulder to sit me back down. A man who had spit on me 10 minutes earlier was now pouring me a cup of tea. Following a formalized action that said, “I’m over it”, he filled my cup and called to the waiter, who brought over a plate of cassava sweets.

We each introduced ourselves. Photos came out of wallets. Surprisingly few words were exchanged, mostly nods and a feeling of goodwill. Each time I finished my cup, which only required two good sips, my new comrade quickly refilled it. Our plan to reach the Perfume Pagoda felt deferred. Whatever healing might come from visiting a Buddhist shrine was taking place right here, now.

~Paul T. for Samovarlife.com

Samovar’s Ceremonial blog contributor, Paul T. reaches for Monkey Picked Iron Goddess of Mercy, Kuan Yin’s classic elixir, to ease the monkey mind and loves getting the job done with assistance from the smoky buzz of Samovar’s Russian Blend.

Tea Mind

©2009 Jennifer Leigh Sauer

I just finished reading the book The Republic of Tea: Letters to a Young Zentrepreneur, by the company’s original founders, Will Rosenzweig and Mel & Patricial Ziegler.  In a series of whimsical faxes exchanged during the early 1990s between Mel (as mentor) and Will (as mentee), Mel describes not only how to build a company from the ground up, but how to craft a life: “sip by sip, not gulp by gulp.”

As the book progresses, Mel invites both his colleague, Will, and his readers to consider the benefits of Tea Mind– the state of mind one enters at around cup number five, according to Tang Dynasty poet, Lu Tong who wrote, “At the fifth cup, I am purified,” in his poem, Tea Drinking.

“I want what I have,” Mel petitions the reader, through his advice to Will. This statement is at the nucleus of Tea Mind, and the raison d’etre of creating a tea business, particularly in a severe economic downturn.

Wanting what you have provides relief, particularly when you need a distraction from thinking about what you may recently have lost or might lose in the unknown future. Tea is a wonderful tonic for any depression, be it economic or physiological. Tea Mind comes naturally from drinking tea and taking time out of one’s day to be quiet, observant and resident in his or her own stillness. It comes of itself, as easily as the steam.

Tea Mind is enduring and even more important now than it was during that puny recession of the early 1990’s when The Republic of Tea book was written (and the company founded).

Tea Mind is wanting what you have rather than angling to get what you want.  This small shift in words nudges the reader towards a huge yet simple segue in thinking and values. You find that wanting what you have is much more gratifying and takes much less energy than wanting things to be different.  “I want, I want, I want,” says the incumbent monkey mind. Yet when you sit down and sip a rare, hand-crafted oolong made from the ancient trees of China, you suddenly look around, and although life and its present challenges are still the same, you somehow settle into yourself, and the need for things to change somehow evaporates like streaks of steam rising then disappearing from your cup.

Suddenly, you are still and empty, and simply enjoying the gorgeousness of the steam itself, its aroma mingling with the comfort of your favorite books sitting on the shelf, and the lovely color of your living room walls.

Life has changed, and you didn’t do a thing, but drink some tea and start thinking differently. “Wow,” says Tea Mind. “Steam, color, smell.” Tea Mind is that simple:  “I want what I have.”

~Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither~

By Jennifer Leigh Sauer for Samovar Life

Tea Entrepreneur: Will Rosenzweig

Please join Will Rosenzweig, original founder of The Republic of Tea, at the first Samovar Tea Salon series, “Coping With The New Economy”.  The “Minister of Progress” will speak on the topic of Entrepreneurship as the first event of the series.

Details:
Tuesday, June 2
7-8:30 p.m.
Samovar Tea Lounge Zen Valley
297 Page Street/Laguna, San Francisco
(415) 861-0303

Tickets will be available for sale in the Zen Valley Store location only, for $12 per event. Save money, and purchase the entire series of 6 salons for $65. As this is a very intimate event, there are only 30 available seats. Tickets are non refundable.

Samovar Tea Lounge will serve fine premium teas  at the start of each event. Dining is available from 5:00 pm – 7:00 pm prior to the forum. Discount tickets are also available if purchasing the entire series of 6 salons for $65. All events will be held from 7:00 pm – 8:30 pm, and tickets are available for purchase only at Samovar’s Zen Valley location.

-Jennifer Leigh Sauer, is a freelance photographer, award-winning video journalist, and author based in the San Francisco Bay Area. She is the author of The Way to Tea: Your Adventure Guide to San Francisco Tea Culture (2007). Click here to reach her by email.

Water is important in every step of making sencha green teas: from the growing, to steaming, to brewing of the leaves.

David Lee Hoffman’s appreciation for quality tea water reminds me of those of Lu Yu, the eighth century Tang Dynasty tea sage who instructed his readers in The Classic of Tea about how and where to collect water for tea:

“On the question of water to use, I would suggest that tea made from mountain streams is best, river water is all right, but well-water is quite inferior.”1

Other tea masters rave about the water used for brewing tea in the rural mountain villages of China where they go to find teas. They believe that where good tea grows, good water is often close at hand.  As well, the experience of drinking a tea in its natural habitat with local stream water meant for that tea is an inimitable lifetime experience to be treasured.

Rites and rituals for heating water for tea can of course be found in Japanese tea ceremony. If you were to be a fly on the wall watching a Japanese tea master prepare for a gathering, you would see him or her carefully positioning hot coals in the hearth.

The vision of the gleaming scarlet coals heightens the aesthetic experience of having tea.  Whether it influences the water or not is hard to say, but seeing and hearing the bright coals glowing and crackling under the large cast iron teapot makes the guest feel warm and cared for, as if they were existentially “home”.  There are even ceremonies to mark the seasons by changing the hearth itself.  The act of brewing water for tea is that important.

If you don’t have the time or will to go to the mountains to collect water for tea, and you don’t happen to have a tea brewing hearth or a fire pit nearby, you will probably, like most of us, be using tap water heated in a tea kettle on a gas or electric range.

You can still attain an easily-met, higher standard by simply filtering the water.  You can find a variety of filters, some that are quite sophisticated and are installed in your water system, and some that are more basic, like a Brita® filter over a plastic jug.  You can also put a special piece of whole-stalk bamboo charcoal into your tea kettle, which absorbs undesirable chemicals and odors while your water heats up. (These can be found in some Asian tea shops and in places like San Francisco’s Japantown). However you do it, it’s worth the effort of filtering local tap water.  Your tea will taste better this way.

As an extra note, the distillation process is said to rid water of the minerals that bind with the tea to bring out its best flavor, so you will not want to use distilled water for brewing tea.

In my final blog about the importance of water for tea, I will talk about the ideal water temperatures for making the best tasting tea.

-Jennifer for Samovarlife

Jennifer Leigh Sauer, is a freelance photographer, award-winning video journalist, and author based in the San Francisco Bay Area. She is the author of The Way to Tea: Your Adventure Guide to San Francisco Tea Culture (2007).  Click here to reach her by email.

1, 2: The Classic of Tea, translated by Francis Ross Carpenter (Ecco Press, 1974)

Tea's A-Brewing All Over America

Tea aficionados in the U.S. are quick to point out that tea is an age-old beverage with deep cultural roots around the world, and that its popularity as a drink is only surpassed by water. Meanwhile, those in the tea business hype the rapidly rising sales figures the industry has seen over the last decade or so, predicting enormous yields in future years. Strangely, both of these divergent outlooks completely fail to capture something essential and incredible that’s happening with tea in America.

The U.S. is in the midst of a tea renaissance. Tea traditions that had long lain dormant under the surface of American culture have sprung to vibrant life. Tea rituals, tea flavors and types, tea foods and teaware have begun to intermix with one another to create a new fusion style of tea that is wildly international and yet distinctly American. The American palate has become vastly more sophisticated with regard to tea, just as it did with coffee, beer, chocolate, sushi and wine in previous years. American culture has been infused, if you will, with tea.

Still more interesting is the fact that tea culture in America has been infused with an independent, experimentalist approach. This approach is distinctly American – after all, the same kind of innovation gave birth to jazz music and the same openness to transposing and transforming ideas gave birth to the hippie movement.

The pith of this movement is, unsurprisingly, San Francisco. However, revolutions have a way of refusing to sit still and this one, like others before it, is spreading across the country. Samovar, a San-Francisco-based company that in many ways epitomizes the new wave of tea in America, is a part of that growth and change. I anticipate seeing how Samovar’s most recent venture into the digital world of tea, Samovarlife, impacts the new tea traditions that are currently forming across the country.

Lindsey “Vee” Goodwin is a professional tea writer and consultant. Click here to reach her by email.

The View from the Path of the Old Tea-Horse Road

Tea has been traded far and wide since time immemorial. Before there were planes, trains, boats, and automobiles, tea was transported strapped to the backs of people and horses. For over a millennium, one ancient footpath has connected the tea markets of Yunnan, China to the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.

Known as the Ancient Tea-Horse Road, this unpaved and rugged path— which was formed only by the foot traffic of humans and horses— is one of the most dangerous ancient commercial roads. It stretches across nearly 2,500 miles of mountains, rivers, canyons, valleys and planes.  In addition to tea, trade goods like salt and sugar flow into Tibet via the Tea-Horse Road, while livestock, furs, musk, and other Tibetan products are transported to world beyond.

This ancient commercial passage first appeared more than 1,200 years ago, during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). Since then, movement on the Ancient Tea-Horse Road has promoted exchanges in culture and religion and has been the path of great migrations similar to those along the routes of the Silk Road.

The Ancient Tea-Horse Road

What is it like on the path of the Ancient Tea Horse Road?
While parts of the Ancient Tea-Horse Road pass by the bustling, picturesque cities of Dali, Lijang, and Shangrila, most of the ancient path crosses a rural terrain of imposing scenery and soul-stirring quietness.

As one walks along it, all things seem static and the surrounding mountains stand silent. There is a kind of beauty in the desolation that makes you feel like you are someplace timeless.

The distant mountains are peaked with strong and exquisite ridges, while rain and snow melt together, rushing down the slopes, flowing into innumerable rivers. If the mountains make up the skeleton of Tibet, then the rushing rivers and streams that flow down them are its veins, which pour vigor and vitality into the plateau.

A Caravan Treks along the Ancient Tea Horse Road

Walking along the Ancient Tea-Horse Road, you might meet reverent pilgrims heading to the holy city, Lhasa. They walk slowly along the rugged path—some of them even crawl— as they travel toward their sacred destination. But the main traffic you will encounter is still the traders’ caravans. Since ancient times, carvans (mabang) of men and horses  have carried goods back and forth along this treacherous and beautiful path– creating  distinctive music of jingling bells and clomping hooves. You never know, if you stop one, they may share a cup of tea from their thermos with you.

From China (the birthplace of tea),
Simon for Samovar Life

To experience the kinds of teas that are traded along the Ancient Tea Horse Road, check out any of teas that come from Yunnan: the Ancient Teas and the Pu-erh Teas.

Jodet Picking Tealeaves in Taiwan

I find that often times, what people don’t know is that tea, much like any other plant, takes great skill and process. How often does one ponder, while sipping their black tea in the morning, “Wow, someone actually hand picked these leaves and spent hours contributing to the final process?” I know I never used to. Until now.

Eventually after understanding how to describe tea and its basic processes, I thought, how amazing would it be if I could actually go out and live on a farm with a tea master who can teach me everything I need to know about the processes of tea? This little dream soon became a goal needing to be accomplished, and that’s where my trip to Taiwan comes in.

On October 12, one of my staff members, Lorraine and I flew to Puli, Taiwan,  a mountainous region three hours outside of Taipei where a large population of tea cultivation takes place. We were staying with a farmer whom I met in May at the World Tea Expo. The farmer, KC Chen and his wife, Katie, welcomed me and Lorraine into their home with open arms.

Lorraine and host Rebecca on the tea bus

We did not speak the language, nor did we know what to expect. We just shared a common love for tea. We packed our bags and traveled thousands of miles with our Flip camera, and our digitals in hopes of bringing back an experience for our Samovar staff and community. Mr.Chen had arranged for two lovely translators to guide us through the process.

Essentially, the itinerary was to process oolongs and black tea for a whole week from start to finish.  I was so intrigued with the complete tea experience. I feel that that’s not something you can find in a book.  We filmed and processed tea for the week and were able to get some amazing photographs and footage. I hope that the next couple blogs will enrich your knowledge of tea and help bring joy into your life as much as it has to mine.

Check out the tea in this video… Matcha.

* Special thanks to Toshiko, for making the tea!

Teas in this video…Moorish Mint

Jennifer Sauer, photographer, Bon Teavant, author of Way to Tea, (the beautiful guide to tea culture in the San Francisco Bay Area), shares her audio interview with Samovar founder, Jesse Jacobs.

Listen to the interview at Sauer’s website Bon Teavant.

Media Contact:
Jesse Cutler, Samovar: (415) 655-3431 / publicity@jpcutlermedia.com

Check out her blog and complete article

http://blog.waytotea.com/2009/02/11/tea-culture-and-leadership-in-difficult-times.aspx

“Our communities look to us for sanctuary, community, compassion, and the opportunity for sharing ideas, dreams, and sorrows during these trying times.  Tea culture is the perfect vehicle for meeting the deeper needs of our friends, family, colleagues, and customers.

“I drink it in my office every morning, and at times on my roof top overlooking the water at home while listening to the Idan Raichel Project. Pair it with a jook or an egg bowl, and you have yourself a perfect, warming meal! When Jodet isn’t sipping her Lychee, she’s practicing vinyasa yoga, obsessing about design and architecture, tending to her cat Madison, or flipping through Architectural Digest magazine.”

She has a love for print journalism, fashion photography, Chinese herbs and acupuncture, white wine and fine dining, and of course, the tea culture and its many meticulous details.

Jodet speaks Farsi , Armenian, English (of course), and is currently studying Spanish with the intent to become fluent. She’s attending school for her MBA.

“I grew up drinking tea from really beautiful, authentic, gold-plated, traditional Samovars in Iran. Tea has been an important part of my life since childhood.”

Teresa Making a Difference at Samovar

Did I Make a Difference?

When it’s all said and done, will you consider whether your presence on this planet made one iota of difference? We believe everyone wants to know their lives made a difference. Why?

Because nothing else really matters. So what if you made a lot of money, traveled the world, or bought a lot of stuff. Did you make a difference? Let’s live our lives every single second of every single day knowing without hesitation that our lives made a difference for the better. And let’s live with an easygoing elegance that is contagious to everyone we touch. Below are six really simple ways you can make a huge difference.

1. Use compact fluorescent light bulbs.
If every household in America used just one bulb, this would equate to taking 1.3 million automobiles off the roads.

2. Shop at a farmer’s market once a month (or more) to eat healthy, seasonal, organic food produced by local farmers. It’s good for your taste buds, your health, local business, and the environment.

3. Help everyone get health care. We live in a great country, and it would be even greater if everyone had health care. Support initiative
H.R. 676 that supports universal health care.

4. Make peace by drinking tea. No, this is not blatant self promotion for Samovar. It’s just blatant truth. Tea is about connecting to the moment, whether alone or with others. If everyone were to have tea with a friend at least once a week, a lot of our problems would just go away.

5. Shorten your shower by just 10 seconds and conserve water and energy.

6. Reduce your environmental Toothprint.
By the time you die, most will have gone through at least 1,000 toothbrushes. That’s 100 million pounds of plastic toothbrushes in landfills in this country alone. Buy a toothbrush with a disposable head and you’ll have made a big difference.

For more information, check out these movies and resources:
Feature films: An Inconvenient Truth , by Al Gore and, Sicko by Michael Moore

http://www.climatecrisis.net/takeaction/whatyoucando/

http://www.michaelmoore.com/sicko/what-can-i-do/petitions/pnum649.php

http://www.eco-dent.com/

http://www.michaelpollan.com/

Tie Kwan Yin Agrees

Tara, one of our esteemed leaders from the Yerba Buena location recently inspiredus with her book recommendation The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz:

2. Nothing’s Personal. We aren’t at the center of the center of our own little Universe. Instead, our customers are. That said, we value your opinions and watch our actions, all without being too attached to outcomes. That way, we never take things hard, and always take it easy.

3. Assume Not. We live the questions and work our way toward answers on a daily basis. Communication is key, so our customers aren’t ever afraid to express what it is they want. With all eyes on our assumptions, misunderstandings, sadness and drama simply disappear.

4. Our Best, Always. Our best always looks the same, but we always give it. While circumstances change from moment to moment, our commitment to excellence never wavers. We’re simply too busy being the best that we can be, all day every day, to find room or time for judgments. Or, better yet, regrets.

The Secret of the Samovar

At Samovar, we treat the business of the tea experience, our work, as our art. And, we’re really proud of the art we are making for this world. The way we see it, the secret to being a successful artist is to really be able to listen. To listen to the customers, to our vendors, to the city, to the weather, to our farmers, our employees, and to listen to the world around us with all of our senses: sight, sound, smell, touch, and energy.

If we can listen, and really see our surroundings then we can do whatever is necessary to make our work a beautiful piece of art that improves the world around us.

And, we’ve figured out the secret to listening successfully. Ask questions. Any kind of question, big, small, smart, stupid, obvious, obscure, immediate, timeless, personal, professional, happy, sad, or indifferent. Because if we’re always asking questions, then we’re always looking, thinking, caring, and acting.

That’s one reason that as a company we don’t have thick booklets of training materials and checklists for managers and employees to follow. We want our people to ask questions, to think, and to be creative. Certainly we have “our” way that we brew tea, our way of processing payroll, or completing  mail order for a customer. But, we don’t want robotic drones working here.

We want people who care, think, and are creative. And, if our people are always asking questions, then they are always thinking about what they’re doing. And if they’re thinking about what they’re doing, then, they’re thinking about creative solutions for whatever it is they are doing and how it might be done better.

It’s all about creativity. And with thoughtful, mindful, creativity, comes beautiful art, beautiful business, and beautiful life.