Quote:
Originally Posted by astra
Do you know that you are not supposed to drink from this type of drinking bowls? You should sip tea in small amounts with an audible sound. That way tea entering your mouth properly washes all of taste buds. It is almost like drinking whisky 
This sound might be considered rude in some societies but I think in Japan and China it is an norm and the way to drink tea? Anybody? |
No, dear I did not know. Actually the tea shop has a few like that. This gives me a good subject of discussion with the little lady of the shop.
Yes, the small sips and the noises. I am aware of that. I actually enjoy doing it. It is useful while drinking coffee in a bar. It makes more room around me instantly. I learned to do it when tasting wine. The clicking makes a small
cavitation that evaporates the aromatic substances.
Yes it is a rude sound, but not as rude as the other sounds that are emitted by the mouth during a meal after that some of it has entered the cavities of the body. The aspiration of air, which is consequent to the noisy drinking and eating which is more a sucking in, promotes the production of deep rumbling audibles, that are considered manifestation of the highest appreciation. I some part of the world. Not where I live or in the circle of my friends and acquaintances. No.
An old episode.
Spoiler:
Ages ago, I had the good fortune of being engaged as a research associate by a prestigious North America University. The second graduate student that I had to supervise was originally from a Far East country that is not Japan and neither is China. This guy was and is an immense source of merriment and satisfaction for his never ending adventures. He is like a vortex in the structure of the universe. Things happen to him. Generally good, like getting me as his supervisor. After about 6 months without me hitting him with a wooden stick as he probably expected, he thought that was his duty to invite me out for dinner. He told me that he had to honor two men in his life: his father and his teacher, and as his father was so far away he had to double honor his teacher, that was me and he actually pointed a finger in my direction. He was telling me these things with a straight face, looking at me and seeing my long hair, the general yippee attire and that far out look. I realized than that he lived in one unique continuum were facts, desires and dreams were intertwined and inseparable. He took me to some fancy Chinese eatery on the outer ring of the town. He reserved for two but he had is wife with us just to serve us. A ridiculous thing as she was the nicest and smartest girl and, although very young, already a professor in Ancient Corean (not very useful where they were living). He loved her as the light of his eyes, for that he was visibly reciprocated, but that was the way. She had to serve us, and did it admiringly. Obviously we all took this as seriously as we could and each played his part at his best. He certainly did not have problems emitting rumbling and exploding sounds in sign of appreciation, which he did not do when he had his lunch in the office. The climax was when he payed the bill. He had a roll of denominations, like they used to and some still do in the Americas. Apparently he kept it in his underpants, because he put his hand in, with some effort went down and came back with his roll and a silly grin on his moonshine face. Pecunia non olet. Money does not stink. How false.