Over Afternoon Tea

Tea is not only a drink but a ritual over which people have been relaxing, talking, and catching up on each other's lives for centuries. This blog is intended to serve as a virtual cup of tea, helping me keep in touch with friends and family in my physical absence.

Tea Makes the World Go Round

In the first floor of one of those ubiquitous old buildings Boston provides, polished wooden floors clash with furniture of various decades. A few icons are scattered here and there about the walls of this social hall; the actual Church is upstairs. At the moment the social hall is being used as a soup kitchen called Open Door. Boston's hungry--mostly, judging by their baggage or lack thereof, not the homeless, but those who are having a hard time making ends meet--crowd as many 10-foot tables as the Church can muster and a few more card tables put side by side to try to accommodate them all. They're downing their dinners with enjoyment and friendly conversation. Most are regulars; they know each other, and they generally sit at the same spot at the same table.

In the middle of all the havoc and bustle of guests making their way to the front to pick up donated clothes or loaves of bread and servers making their way to the back to deliver dishes and coffee, I venture out with the hot water and tea bags. Most people prefer coffee but I feel it's my duty to keep the tea going. The last thing people really need in the cold is dehydration, and tea (especially the decaf we have on hand) has much less caffeine than coffee, while still being a hot beverage--what most people seem to be really looking for.

I approach the table where a tall, thin man sits. He would have an impressively refined and intelligent look about him if he were wearing something more formal than khakis, red shirt and a baseball cap, but even so he manages to look neat and tidy as few people here do. I don't know his name, but I know he'll want a cup of tea. Nearly every week I set out with the tea pot I get warned about him: make sure to put the tea-bag in the cup first and pour the hot water over it, not pour the water first and then put the tea-bag in it. I always smile and nod. It's too busy, too crowded, and too loud to explain that I do that with every person because it makes a better cup of tea.

Most weeks, he reminds me as well, but this week he either observes that I serve one of his table-mates in the proper manner, or is too busy grumbling that we should make a pot of tea, but don't because coffee and tea bags are the American way. I've been waiting for this opportunity.

"True, but I think a pot would get cold," I say. "I like loose-leaf tea better, too, but you gotta do what you can."

This seems to impress him. Presented with the interesting topic of loose-leaf tea, he tells me that he just found a tea-for-one pot with a strainer to catch loose-leaf tea in the spout. I express my admiration for the clever idea, and now he's sure he's found a kindred spirit. He informs me that the lid is nicely weighted so that it won't fall off when you pour the tea. It's 25% off at such-and-such a museum gift store, he tells me. I respond with the discovery that a local liquor store sells whole-leaf tea, which I've never seen before, and describe the name of the store and its location. And suddenly, in the middle of all the bustle and poverty, I've made a friend. You never know what you're gonna learn.