Karakorum Cha Cha Cha

I went a bit overboard with my praise for Greg Mortenson and his incredibly popular book Three Cups of Tea last year.  It appears the incredibility of the book's popularity was more incredible than at first suspected.  There was a huge scandal about Mr Mortensen and his questionable handling of his charity in general and his books inflated sales in particular.

Before all of that, I was rather taken with the ideas he espoused in the book (still am actually) and paraphrased his main ideas here: Tea Alchemy.

Once people find out you're into tea, they start bringing you tea samples.  That's exactly what happened when a friend went to see Greg Mortensen in person.  The Karakorum Cha pictured above was on sale after his presentation, and it was purchased and brought to me.

Although I'm always grateful to receive tea that I don't know yet, I wasn't particularly impressed with this tea.  It took a long while before I figured out the way to brew it that brought out its best qualities, but I'll save all of that for the tea review I'll be writing over at the Tea Review Blog.

But the bigger questions are: Can we still support Greg Mortensen's ideas without supporting deceptive method of collecting charity?  Can we still like the tea regardless of the bizarre circumstances that it came to us?

My answer to both is: Why yes, of course.  I still like the idea of our relationship going from stranger to friendship to family while drinking several cups of tea.  It continues to be a naive but powerful idea.

And as much as I love high quality Darjeeling tea, it's a pleasure to get to know other tea from the Himalayan regions.

So, I'll talk more about how it tastes in my tea review, but you want to see the leaves, don't you?  Here they are:

Karakorum Cha Cha Cha

striving to understand

I already read Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson quickly for pleasure, and am rereading it, and sharing my favourite tea-related things here as I come to them. On page 150, he finally explains the main idea of the book, which I've repeated here many times. While drinking three simple cups of tea, the people sitting across from one another go from being strangers to friends to family. Of course it's simplistic, and I don't think I can easily start seeing you as my blood just because we've had several cups of tea.

But the context of his example is important. He brought enough money to build a school he'd promised, but was delayed because first a bridge had to be built. Then when the bridge had been built, he became obsessed to have the school built as rapidly as possible. He was demanding and pushy with the locals as he ordered the people he was working with to do this and that.

Haji Ali, the village elder and Mortenson's mentor, pulled him aside and insisted that he sit down in order to share some tea. The old man explained to him that his way of accomplishing things didn't fit in this context. Here's how Mortenson explains what he was told in this passage:

Haji Ali taught me to share three cups of tea, to slow down and make building relationships as important as building projects. He taught me that I had more to learn from the people I work with than I could ever hope to teach them.

There's part of me that just wants to reject this outright. What if he was an expert in construction? He wasn't. What if he really had better ideas and they were being lazy? Well so what? I've worked with bossy people. It can be a nightmare. It's almost worse when they're right.

Here I am tonight drinking my Sencha Dong-Bai and continuing to pick apart this book. My biggest problem with reading this sort of book, which I'd call inspirational of a sort, is that then I put the book down and cannot imagine how I could ever do such a courageous thing. But this idea about building relationships is something I can imagine myself doing.

Pouring tea and trying to understand the other people more than to make sure I'm understood. That's certainly something I can strive for. Often, I'm looking for something more complicated. Something mind-blowing. The simpler the better, eh? Yeah-I can see that.

tea drinking and resolve

As he worked his way throught the pot of tea, Mortenson told Abdul the story of his failure on K2, his wanderings on the glacier, and the way the people of Korphe had cared for the stranger who wandered into their village.

from Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea (p. 58)

As I'm going through this book again, I've decided to ponder some of the things he brings up, and leave my thoughts here. I plan to at least start off talking about tea, but there's no telling where these thoughts might take me. That's part of my attraction to tea. You could certainly make a case for the spirited conversation one might have drinking whiskey or the heightened alertness that coffee might create.

But tea is both calming and enlightening. Whether drinking it alone or sharing it with others, something exquisite often happens in the process of draining a pot.

Several paragraphs later, after Abdul has resolved to help Mortenson get the best deal possible on the materials for the school he's going to build, the story continues:

He swept aside the doubts about his ability to build the school that had nagged at himfor the last year, as Abdul had briskly cleared the tea try. Tomorrow it was time to begin. (p.59)

Something else I've noticed about tea drinking and resolve. If I'm debating with myself about doing something and first sit quietly with a bit of tea, I normally find at least the beginnings of an answer. I try to make a point of ignoring my very first impulse. Not always, but often it's my worst thought. While the tea cools and I sip it slowly, alternatives that I hadn't thought of start to materialise.

My friend Patsy used to always say, 'If you think there're only two answers to a problem, you're not looking at it clearly enough.' Her point was that upon further reflection, there's always another way to look at a situation.

That's it for tonight. Although it's not a long post, there's plenty here. Am drinking a really simple Darjeeling Green that I got at a shop in Hamburg back in April. It's so simple it didn't even have a specific name. Nothing more than Darjeeling Green Tea. I was intrigued because I'd never had a green tea from Darjeeling. Third infusion and it's still going strong.

Off to ponder.

there was a woman involved...

Had another three-cups-of-tea moment with a friend of mine tonight. I've done this before, so I hope I'm not boring you, but while we drink the first cup we're strangers. During the second cup we're friends, and by the end of the third cup we're family.

In Greg Mortenson's book, it's used as a peace making method. Over three cups of tea, we can start to see things as two from the same family. Rather than members of opposing tribes.

But does it work with someone you're already friends with? Why not.

My buddy Wolfgang was worked up about something, but couldn't quite get out what it was. I tried to get him to drink some Oolong with me, but he was worried about the caffeine. I had some Rooibus with little orange pieces which I served him, and It smelled so good I thought the whole experience would be better if we drank the same thing.

The first cup was just him calming down. It was really soothing. For both of us. He drained that first cup, and it was the first time I saw him smile. A big, sweet smile. He took a deep breath in, and started to tell me his story as I poured the second cup. It was quite a story.

I won't go into it (he'd never forgive me for spilling his private life here), but needless to say...there was a woman involved. While we slowly sipped at the second cup, he started filling me in on more details. The reasons why this was bothering him so much and why this situation was going to destroy the small semblance of sanity he'd created at home. I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said there was a bit of gnashing of teeth. The deeper we delved into his problem, the more emotional it got. Were there actual tears, I wouldn't mention it. He's Bavarian. It's better to be angry than to be sad. From me you'll hear no talk of crying.

He paused as the third cup was poured. A deep, long breath. I asked him if he wanted to know what I thought. He was so spent from all of the energy he'd burned while telling me his story. He begrudgingly agreed to hear my opinion. We slurped and pondered a few more moments before I finally spoke.

'What day is it?'

'Huh?'

'What day is it?'

'Uhm...the 30th.'

'Of what month?'

'What d'you mean "What month"? It's June. You know that.'

'Ok...30th of June. What was your biggest problem on May 30th?'

He thought a minute. Wondered what on earth had been his biggest concern back then. Couldn't remember. For the life of him, the man had no idea what had been bothering him a mere four weeks ago.

I knew. I knew exactly what'd been bothering him on the 30th of May. The point of all of this is to see that the things we're so worked up about are only an issue because we're so close to them...and that problems are fleeting. If we look at things objectively, we can normally see that the solution is easier than our hot-headed self could ever imagine.

Simple solutions. While we finished that third cup, he looked across at me and laughed. His problem wasn't so massive anymore because he wasn't nearly as important as he'd been. Rather than the star of the show, he was just another bit player. He'd been playing with all the gusto of a prima donna, but had no lines to speak of. He finally laughed at his earlier pompousness.

From nervously smiling, to yelling (and maybe even crying), and then laughing in the time it took to drink three simple cups of tea. So far, in my experience, it's always worked.

Healing old wounds with tea

Have made an executive decision here at http://lahikmajoedrinkstea.blogspot.com.

For now on when I'm not sure what to write about, which quite honestly happens very rarely, I'm going to riff on the Three Cups of Tea premise. I've talked enough about this that my regular readers know that I've already credited Greg Mortenson with this idea. I'm certainly not stealing any ideas. To be pedantic, it wasn't even his idea. He was recounting a common practice in Pakistan/Afghanistan and not inventing something new.

But I never would've heard anything about it were it not for his fantastic book on the subject.

My plan is to take a great idea and run with it. As far as I can go, actually. I think this is going to be a lot of fun. Not just today, but for many posts in the future.

The basic premise is that we meet and have a cup of tea and are strangers. While we drink the second cup, we become friends. During the enjoyment of the third, we become family. That's the premise. I think it's good, but I've talked to people in my daily life and they seem to believe it's unrealistic.

Sure for little problems, it might work. Maybe. But for real problems. Geopolitical problems? Never. Family problems that go back years? Forget about it. People you've hated for years for good reason? No flippin' way, lahikmajoe. That's just not to be solved over three cups of your godforsaken tea. No way.

So, I'm going to start with a real person. A real situation. Now this is a guy I've disliked since university. He loathed me and I returned the sentiment. We were the opposite of thick as thieves. We were merely thieves. He stole my energy and I took his. The more I thought of him, the more I despised him. The more I lorded my successes over him, the more he went to mutual friends and talked about what an ass I was. He was in all honesty probably right. I was an ass. Still am sometimes.

When I tried to imagine a situation where this Three Cups of Tea idea wouldn't work, it was with this guy. No way. Not with him.

But I'm going to imagine the conversation and spill it out here. Please notice that we still despise each other while the first cuppa is being drunk. Both he and I are hard nuts to crack.

He reminds me that I gloated every time anything went my way. I retorted that things certainly went my way more often than things went his way. The guy came from such a small town that he thought there were no homosexuals where he grew up. I still think about that when I encounter intolerance. If you live in a town with more then 10 people, there's a very good statistical chance that you know someone who's gay. But somehow I refrain from reminding him of his ignorance while we down our first cup. He smiles as he finishes the tea and complements me on my choice. In this little fantasy, I'm tea mother and I pour the second cup.

Turns out he likes tea too. Just like my story, he was primarily a coffee drinker when he married, but his wife pulled him over to the leaf-side. He's not quite as obsessive about it as I am, but appears to enjoy a good cup of tea. He smiles. I smile. I think we're friends. Too early to tell.

While we drink the second cup, both of us can tell that something is altered. We have a different perspective than we did when we first sat down. Because we're both lost in our thoughts, it gets relatively quiet. We still manage to bleat out a few pleasantries. Somehow.

I pour the third cup and we start to get really personal. Upon finding out how my dad died, he shares that his father-in-law has the same disease. We start to really bond. Is this even possible? Apparently so. I tell him about a friend I have who has two forms of really bad cancer. Not one, but TWO!

He knew someone our age who died last year. A high school friend of his, who happened to be gay it turned out, and they stayed close over the intervening years. He'd taken the friend's death really hard, but somehow things were slowly and softly improving. Because we connected so deeply on these two points, I realise something. We're family. We really are.

And if I'm completely honestI have to admit that he and I were always family. We both studied classical music at University. We both love Brahms.

Three Cups of Tea & we're on an entirely different footing. Entirely.

Tea Alchemy

I wrote about something the other day and as always, Sir William joined the party. However, the rest of you lot are reading, but not saying a damned thing.

It's certainly plausible that the topic doesn't get your brain cooking like it does mine, but it's also entirely possible that I presented it poorly. As well as I sometimes express myself here, we all have off days.

Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin wrote a book a while back called Three Cups of Tea, and the more I read it and read about it, the more I think it's rather profound. Paraphrased it the other day, but I'll gladly repeat myself.

The first cup we're strangers. The second we're friends, and by the third, you are family. If this seems ridiculous to you, my contention is that we are already family. Not tea fanatics, although that's also entirely true, but we humans. The divisions we have created and perpetuate lead to so many, if not all, of our problems.

Yes of course we still have incurable disease and natural disasters, but when it comes to man-made havoc, there's nothing quite like pitting two people or groups of people against one another. Nothing.

Let me take a ridiculous example to make my point. Most of you already know that I'm a dog lover. I like cats, but really prefer dogs. Were I to invite a cat-lover over for tea, she and I might have the first cuppa and still be feeling out the other's perspective.

But here's one of the reasons the 3 Cups idea works: I've had a cup of tea together with my cat-lover friend. The warm, delicious stuff is coarsing through our system, and we start to feel somehow at ease. As the second cup is poured, we're somehow transformed to friends. Tea alchemy is how I see this. It's a beautiful moment in any tea gathering, whether in a group or 1-on-1. It's a moment to savour.

So now my soon to be familized friend of all things feline is simultaneously warming to my canine capabilities. As we down the dregs of the second cup, we're on a tea high that only Teegenießer verstehen können.

The third cup is where the real magic happens. A few moments previously we were strangers. Or possibly acquaintances. But at some point during the process that started with the pouring of this next cup and continued with the actual drinking of it, we became the equivalent of blood. You might scoff and say this is immaterial. Or too simplistic. Or you might even think the whole premise is stupid.

I whole-heartedly disagree. By the third cup, my cat-loving friend might not love dogs any more or less than she did before, but she'd do nearly anything to defend my right to have my dogs. Before those three cups, she might very well have cursed dogs every time she saw an instance where someone didn't clean up after his dog. Maybe. Maybe not. Similarly, I might no longer think cats are secretly plotting to over-throw the human race. I might continue to have my conspiracy theories about the suspect nature of these other-worldly creatures that the ancient Egyptians even worshipped, but by the time the third cup of tea is swimming in my bloodstream, I very probably have come to the conclusion that an earth run by cats might not be so bad after all.

It certainly couldn't be any worse.

tea and whirled peas

One thing I like to do is imagine a topic as far from tea as possible and write a blogpost about that. This strategy serves two purposes.

First of all, it means that I never run out of topics. Ever. I've written about football here, and sex, and religion and and and...

The other thing is that because I have a relatively hard time paying attention, this method of choosing things to write about plays to my strengths.

In most of life's endeavours, this inability to concentrate is a problem. In writing, it can be a problem, or one can actually make it an advantage.

For example, if you like a columnist, you go to his/her column regularly and if you miss a week, you go back and look at the archives. If I really love a writer, I go every time I know there'll be something new. I find Cary Tennis at http://Salon.com to be intriguing in almost every way. So I read him almost every time he leaves something online. Was devastated when he had surgery relatively recently and I had to find someone else to read religiously.

Or blog. That's roughly when I started seriously considering this teablog lark. And many things he said pushed me to finally stop talking about doing something unique. I used to imagine the songs I'd one day write. Or the short stories. Or certainly one day a novel. Even if, Ignatius J. Reilly-style, my mother had to hand the manuscript over to the publisher.

Here's what I love about his forum:

I can talk about literature. To my heart's content even. Middlemarch one week and Rilke the next. Music is never off-limits. Neither is politics.

Come to think of it, because it's mine...I can pretty much say anything.

So what am I going to do with that platform today?

I'm going to make a proclamation. Are you ready for it?

Everyone reads Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea, and assumes that'd only work for the third world. My contention is: we in the West should be practicing this now. Right now.

Allow me to paraphrase:

We drink a cup of tea, and we're still strangers. As a result of drinking the second cup, we're now friends. By the third cup, we're family.

Sounds like something out of Hair, right? Or now you think I'm some Abbie Hoffman throwback. I assure you I'm not. This isn't some pie-in-the-sky theory.

Think of someone you don't get along with, but you must. Your in-laws. Your co-worker who smells like feet. The neighbour you've never liked. Many people you can just ignore. Easily solved, right?

But now imagine your kid wants to marry their kid. Or your spouse really digs their spouse at the company office party, and they want to hang out. Go out to eat. See a movie together. What'll you do now? If you follow the advice of ol' lahikmajoe, you'll share three cups of tea. Can't hurt, can it?