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| Kelby |
This past Sunday - ironically the day of rest - was one of the most tiring days I have had in a while. As of now in Hangzhou, Spring is approaching. In America, Spring Can mean many different things: flowers blooming, warmer weather, graduation soon approaching, etc. In Hangzhou, only one thing matters - new tea leaves. The new tea leaves are in! Naturally my host mother knew this, so she decided to take Liz, Mrs. Waterman, Henry, and me out to pick tea.
The tea trees themselves are not in the city, so we had to drive about 45 minutes into the hills to pick the tea. Being foreigners, we were very fortunate to have permission to pick the new tea. Apparently Henry has a friend from middle school who’s family owns a small patch of trees. The friend’s family owns a restaurant near their patch of trees, so we were able to drink some tea and eat some sunflower seeds before working. After that, we climbed into the hills.
The scenery was beautiful. Lines of bushes occupied acre upon acre of land, with each line being no further than two feet apart. Every inch of every hill was coated with greenery, even the tops of the mountains weren’t bare. One then takes a closer glance to see small brown dots moving about the bushes - those would be the farmers. Hundreds of woman taking to the trees in order to pick the ripest of the tea. Even bushes that were hundreds of meters high were being plucked by these woman.
We were up on the hill for an hour, as we barely picked four cups of tea (probably less). Nonetheless, it was 85 degrees outside... our day was cut short. We proceeded back down the hill, saw some tea plants that Mao had picked from, and had some lunch at the family restaurant.
We didn’t get back to the city until around 6:00 that evening, but my host mom kept us going. She took us to a famous shopping road in Hangzhou where we saw tea, umbrellas, key chains, sand pictures, sugar cane, rosaries, stinky tofu, and so much more. Anything you could think of was on that street. We walked around there for an hour, but Liz, Mrs. Waterman and I were exhausted. Henry’s mother brought us all home, I found my bed, sat down, and the next thing I knew it was morning.
Days like Sunday are memories that will last a lifetime. Yes, we got to pick the new tea, see the beautiful hills, and explore a fascinating street, but we were also able to see the locals in their undisturbed element. For example, we started eating lunch at 1:00, we’re finished by 1:39, but because Henry’s mother knew the locals so well, we didn’t leave until 2:45. Little children came up to us to practice their English, but also because they were curious about who we were. The farmers (who didn’t speak English) would come up to us and attempt to communicate with us, eventually aiding our efforts in trying to pick the best tea. The vibe of the village was bustling with peace and kindness in a way I had never experienced before.
With only two weeks left, I hope to see as many places like this as I can before we return. Thankfully, I have a driving force that no amount of rain, wind, or fatigue can stop from helping me achieve this goal. That force? Henry’s mom.
We were up on the hill for an hour, as we barely picked four cups of tea (probably less). Nonetheless, it was 85 degrees outside... our day was cut short. We proceeded back down the hill, saw some tea plants that Mao had picked from, and had some lunch at the family restaurant.
We didn’t get back to the city until around 6:00 that evening, but my host mom kept us going. She took us to a famous shopping road in Hangzhou where we saw tea, umbrellas, key chains, sand pictures, sugar cane, rosaries, stinky tofu, and so much more. Anything you could think of was on that street. We walked around there for an hour, but Liz, Mrs. Waterman and I were exhausted. Henry’s mother brought us all home, I found my bed, sat down, and the next thing I knew it was morning.
Days like Sunday are memories that will last a lifetime. Yes, we got to pick the new tea, see the beautiful hills, and explore a fascinating street, but we were also able to see the locals in their undisturbed element. For example, we started eating lunch at 1:00, we’re finished by 1:39, but because Henry’s mother knew the locals so well, we didn’t leave until 2:45. Little children came up to us to practice their English, but also because they were curious about who we were. The farmers (who didn’t speak English) would come up to us and attempt to communicate with us, eventually aiding our efforts in trying to pick the best tea. The vibe of the village was bustling with peace and kindness in a way I had never experienced before.
With only two weeks left, I hope to see as many places like this as I can before we return. Thankfully, I have a driving force that no amount of rain, wind, or fatigue can stop from helping me achieve this goal. That force? Henry’s mom.
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