tea & sympathy

Amid the bustle of Seoul lies Jogyesa Temple, the center of Seon (Zen) Buddhism in South Korea. Located within the city limits, worshipers come to offer their prayers while curious visitors can learn about Buddhist life, check out the Central Buddhist Museum or shop the museum’s store. But a stop at the adjoining Namu teashop provided a much-needed decompression from a busy day of sightseeing. As tea and its accompanying ritual are integral to Zen Buddhism, different varieties and a description of each tea’s health benefits filled most of the menu’s pages. Suffering from a paralysis of analysis, the set menu of the lotus leaf rice and a choice of tea was the easy answer. Yellow tea was brought out and the waitress patiently explained the ritual of the pour, as several steps were involved before the tea finally made its way into a delicate teacup resting on a black, wooden saucer. During the conversation, I revealed I recently uprooted myself from the U.S. to live and work in Korea so the present job search was causing some anxiety. She applauded I was brave and welcomed me to the country. Time passed and as the hot water began to run low, the waitress appeared with a serving of daechu (jujube) tea. She explained that jujube is for calming, reducing stress and inducing better sleep. I thanked her for the gratis tea and reveled in her kindness. The mention of my stress earlier prompted the waitress to offer me a tea that would help mitigate my distress. Culturally, Koreans speak indirectly and their state of being and feelings are implied rather than declared. This fosters careful listening to search for clues to make the other person more comfortable. And sharing, particularly food, is a means to bond with strangers. Realizing the waitress was truly "present" and listened during our conversation, then acted on making my time at the café more enjoyable somehow instilled a glimmer of confidence in my overseas move that maybe everything will be okay.