Kencha at Tenryuji

We went to kencha for the founding abbot of Tenryuji zen temple in Arashiyama (a beautiful mountainous area of west Kyoto, or west of Kyoto, depending on how you want to think of it). We all sat in the main hall, ranged on two sides with iemoto in the middle. Midorikai and the other gakuen students are always first there, but always grouped in the back. I suppose it's a privilege to get to go, but we're supposed to be unobtrusive and self-effacing, so we get there first then fill up the back seats to make the room look nice and full. Seriously. This happens in tea seatings too-- if it looks sort of thin, they grab helpers and have us go out and be guests so it's full.
So, back row. And as much as I'm fairly tall for a girl in Japan, I'm short waisted and by no means an Amazon, so I couldn't really see anything unless I hitched myself up on my toes instead of kneeling properly. I did that some, but then I also didn't want people to think it was because I'm not capable of sitting, and also, it's kinda uncomfortable and I couldn't see that much more anyway. So kencha. Like the other kenchas, the "Mizuya boys" (these are the junior tea assistant guys, who are simultaneously high-ranking amongst us Urasenke tea folks above non-Mizuya employees and students because they are part of the iemoto's household and they are probably on their way to gyotei-sensei (which is the highest ranking tea teachers), but also very much like domestic servants, because the part of the household they're in is the Mizuya--the kitchen-- doing all the labor of running the Urasenke estate Konnichian at all hours, stoking fires, prepping ash (haigata), packing, carrying-- everything.) So anyway, Mizuya boys (many of whom are, to be fair, men) set everything up, keep an eye on everything; iemoto pops out at the moment when everyone is set and does the temae (procedure).

Here's a shot from waiting:

So, I couldn't really see very well in the fifth or sixth row, but I discovered that if I cocked my head a certain way I could see over the shoulders and below the heads of a few ladies to the temaeza--the area where oiemoto was sitting and doing the tea.  So I cocked my head just so and watched through a keyhole made of two women's heads, their black hair, ears, necks, and the collars of their pastel kimono (a pink one and a peach one) into a tiny fraction of the main event. Through the hole, making up the back wall of my tiny theatre space was precisely the face of an older woman with fabulous kimono hair (that is, teased and smoothed high and lacquered to a "shin-nuri" sheen.  Into this little empty space at key moments would pass iemoto's hands, or sometimes his face when he leaned forward.

Sometimes his hand came up into my keyhole with the chasen (whisk), or with the hishaku (scoop) to steady it before going into the water. I saw him straighten out the white brocade shifuku bags that had been holding the tea containers in that window. When he put things all the way down to the floor, or leaned forward to get something from the daisu (stand), his face would momentarily pop into the frame from the upper right. The rest of the time, nothing. Just heads, ears, necks, and the empty space before the woman across from us. I started to be really into this perspective; since I couldn't see the vast majority of what was happening, these few short glimpses started to come into crystal clear focus. Just iemoto's hand cradling the bowl while he inspected the chasen with his other hand (this is something we don't even do in regular procedures). Or a fraction of his face with a fraction of white surgical mask (that he wears as soon as it's time to scoop the powdered tea into the bowl for the honoree, in this case Muso Soseki, the founding abbot who died in the 14th century. The rest was a blank.

But here were the sounds: some dudes were talking throughout the whole solemn thing. They weren't in the room, but they were just on the other side of the wall of the hall and perhaps didn't realize there was a silent ritual tea going on. And also someone had a digital cricket. That is, a cell phone rang with a tinny electronic sound, and kept ringing. And rang more. And no one made that flurried commotion that one makes when one realizes that one's phone is going off in a silent, solemn, no phones occasion. But there were a whole heap of old guys not far from us, many of whom were dozing, and I became convinced in was one man who seemed deep in slumber about 10 or 15 feet away. Everyone else was subtly looking around. And the phone stopped.  Then started again. And again and again. Of course it was terribly rude of someone to sleep through their own phone, but I started to like it because it sounded like a computer cricket in the room. A cricket respects no hall and neither does ojiisan's keitai.

And then, the head current abbot got up off his fancy chair, put his fan in the fancy chair's special fan holder (dead serious, exactly like a car cup holder), and then took the bowl of tea on the dai (the stand) to the altar. And then, soon we were done and everyone was taking a look at the brazier and the daisu and the two tea containers, one with an uzu (whirlpool) design on top and the other with koma (a cone-shaped top), which are the crests for the women and the men of the Sen family, respectively. The karakane furo (a shiny metal--bronze I think- with made-to-fit kettle had a big old roof tile from the temple covering its ash from view through its little window.

After everyone had checked out the stuff up close and burned some incense for Muso-sama, then we walked around to the famous veranda view of Tenryuji's garden (laid out by that same Muso Soseki we were honoring that day).

We took one group photo, then some people rushed through because iemoto and family were coming through, so we scattered like birds and trotted back to the fukuseki to try our hand at waiting a second time to get in there. So then here's the thing. Now I would tell you about all the utensils and things, but the truth is, here's how it went: we scrutinized the kaiki (the list of all the utensils to be used) and we spent a huge amount of time in the machiya (waiting room). There was a nice big scroll painting of momiji (red maple leaves) there. I enjoyed the kimono fashion show immensely. Especially the lady who wore a black iromuji montsuki (solid black with a crest in the back)--usually there's no solid black unless its mourning clothes. But this woman was just a BALLER and rocked it out.  She was an older woman, and also roamed around instead of sitting down and waiting like the rest of us. Also observed a lot of black obis with embroidered or woven brocade patterns, mostly of fall leaves on them.

Then, into the seki and we all sat down; I couldn't see the area where they were making tea very well, although I got to see the scroll "Buji kore kinin" (The noble man is one without rank.) by current iemoto Zabousai, and later I got up close enough that the kogo (incense container) of two iccho (gingko) leaves was memorable. Then, as we tried to work our way over to see the other utensils, the hanto very pleasantly thanked us all and told us to "hayaku goyukkuri" (Quickly take our time) because the oiemoto was waiting to come in to tea. "Goyukuri" is the set phrase for enjoying and taking our leisure, but this hayaku goyukkuri meant we that we turned and left immediately. Although coming out, we passed by where Iemoto and his wife and daughter and son were standing in the VIP waiting area and greeted them with lots of bows. The son and daughter smiled at us and greeted us and looked genuinely happy to see the Midorikai folks.

Then off to wait for the next seki, and waiting on the veranda the foreigners in kimono became a very popular photo opportunity. We ignored some, turned in weird directions for some, and then I think Damian put something in front of his face. There's a whole other post to be made about the being-a-photo-op thing. Soon. Later.  For now I shall only facetiously say that I totally understand celebrities' attitudes toward the paparazzi now.

Honseki. It was in a LOVELY room, accessed around a little corner veranda entrance with a tiny winding stream running around it

We however were the very last people to be shoehorned in, to the extent that Murata-sensei didn't get in at all (truthfully, I don't think he really minds much) and Damian and I were wedged sideways against the entrance door between a low wall nominally separating the back tatami row from the rest of the room and the double-depth tokonoma. Basically, there was one flower container and a tiny incense container that had a whole two mats to themselves while 50 + people were crammed four or five to a mat.  This amuses me greatly.

"Our" boys-- the gakuen boy students-- were the servers at this seki and despite the tight quarters, it was fun to get tea from them. It's always funner to be served by (or serve) people we know. The furo was yatsure buro-- the wrecked old iron brazier that can no longer hold up the kettle so you add a stand and keep using it and the kama (kettle) on top had a stair step up around the middle-- it reminded me of the building that King Kong used to climb in our old Intellivision game console. Like an atari.
In THIS seki I noticed near the end that a big wasp was flying around in the inner section. We mostly ignored it and went up to try to get a look at things after tea had been served (btw, delicious sweets in rolled steamed cake), but the hanto finally saw the wasp, so he tried to warn out all the people, who did eventually start filing out, although we were now deep in the room and trying to get out got really hairy. Especially since the gakuen boys started battling the wasp before we were all the way out-- so THEN there were a bunch of boys in hakama who got their two felt sticky rollers (for cleaning the mosen felt seating) and started attacking the wasp.  So THEN there was a stampede to get out, although I snapped one shot of the madness as I ran:

(Oh look! You can see the King Kong kettle in the background!)

So then the nodate (table) seki. This one was up a long fabulous covered walkway:

(See the picture Damian was about to take here.This might not work. Let me know.)

And then miraculously this seki was no one but us and we could finally for real "goyukkuri." Murata-sensei got tapped to be shokyaku, but everyone filed in weird so we ended up being the only guests over near the end of the seating instead of the beginning. Minor case of the crazy fights that people have NOT to be shoukyaku (first guest)-- I guess it seems erasou (arrogant) to agree to do it.

The scroll was a fan with "sansui seion nari" (mountain water has a pure sound), chosen for the stream running past the honseki room. The flowers were in a totally wild super rustic Thai vase with a wide opening funnel mouth and a narrow base.
At the nodate there was a big beautiful Portuguese mizusashi and the kama was mubyo-- Mubyo is a pun for "six gourds" and "no illness." It's Hounsai konomi, and there are two outlines of gourds on the side of the kettle which is shaped like a gourd, with two gourd lugs for the carrying rings and a knob in the shape of an inverted gourd:
Mubyo kama

There were some lovely bowls. Mine was a grey, not really round, with small Iccho (gingko leaves) drawn in pairs.  Olya was next to me and she had an awesome bowl shaped like tawara-- a rice bale-- also not round, but more oval, with the straw drawn, and a "kotobuki" (longevitiy) kanji on the sign on the front.



When we finished at the nodate seki, we went back to the big main hall and then waited for tenshin-- the light meal.  And this tenshin is the tenshin to rule them all, and we waited a concomitant amount of time for this fabulous meal. Well, I got to go to a bathroom, and we saw a hilarious big Daruma painting, and we watch koi fish taking showers in turns, putting their heads under the little stream of water cascading into their pool:

And then it was over, and we were on our way out although the sun was coming out in Arashiyama, so Murata-sensei said we could go back on our own if we wanted to walk around a little. Fun! So we took off down the choked street, provoking many stares, and then all of a sudden Murata-sensei appeared again-- I had to go do gorei immediately. That is, I was the representative for the group to thank the whole hierarchy of people at Gakuen from the school staff up to Iemoto's household for letting us go to the event. And I had to go back to do it immediately. So Murata-sensei and I rode the train back together alone while the others stayed. It's funny, I hadn't care much about whether or not I touristed around a bit afterward until we'd decided to do it and I caught a glimpse of the river, then I was sad I had to go. But afterwards I got presents from the others-- little silk versions of sweets and a Daruma mini-folder.

And that's why I barely remembered any of the utensils from the chakai. I was chased out by Sen family members and wasps.