On the tough moral questions before us all: is there a point when one should refuse to drink just because the beverage is too good? How can tea heroes protect us from losing the ability to taste?
I have tea heroes. Not many, but a few. Some I have lost contact with over the years, some remain strong pillars in my tea cosmos. Fortunate for them – their hero status is never lost though contact may be, because I am the gatekeeper of those chronicles. Yingmei is one of my lost superheroes. She could teach more about flavour in a couple of hours, without really even trying, than anybody I have come across since. She closed shop after becoming pregnant, and I finally lost all tracking signal by the time her daughter was one years of age.
Yingmei was very principled in her drinking and what she sold. Interestingly, this lady with exquisite taste buds, never spoke much while she drank or served – she let the tea talk. Through this method, Yingmei got to know her customers well: she knew what they liked and what the majority could afford. And guided by this information Yingmei had made her maxims. One of her strong principles has become a guiding light for me, especially recently. It goes something like this: keep your own personal drinking habits within the range of your main cliental. Indulge sometimes.
As she explained: I am here to serve my customers, thanks to them I make a living. I don’t want to get used to drinking extremely good tea, and by way of doing so, spoil my ability to drink comfortably with my clients. So, she made active decisions to keep her own personal drinking about at the same price range as her customers. She chose to exercise self-restraint for the sake of the greater good. And yet, Yingmei was getting expensive tea given to her by colleagues, she personally went to the tea tastings way up in Anxi mountains to decide what she stocked and sold… In other words, Yingmei was there every time the cream of the crop was being served up by the tea deities to the highest bidder! She knew better than most of us what sublime Tieguanyin can taste like!
And this lady, with access to the primary source, says no. It must have not been easy. By doing so, she thus brings the moral of the story right in front of us all, no matter what area of the cosmos of flavour you sport. Does one drink for the tea or does one drink for the company? Does something taste good because proverbial Auntie Rose made it or because the flavour really is so mouth-watering? Without her knowing it, Yingmei had intuitively tapped into the logic behind hedonic adaptation, but without knowing the scientific term for it.
Huh, hedonic what? Hedonic adaptation is when circumstances provide an opportunity to better our lot in life by material means, causing the previously acceptably satisfying mediums to cease to bring the pleasure they used to, thus forcing us to pursue presumably ever more fleeting moments or products. In the end, we are no more satisfied with the luxuries than we were with the original goods, leaving us feeling ever less gratified.
To illustrate: originally, you like a run of the mill white wine. One day, you get a bottle to take to your friend’s house. But, because you want to seem better than you are or something, you grab a bottle out of your normal price range. You get to your friend’s house and as the circumstances go – you get to have a glass of the wine you brought. It turns out to be nice. Next time, when you are standing in the off license choosing wine, you will be sorely tempted by your new-found wine-love. The old bottle doesn’t really have the same appeal anymore. Congratulations! Hedonic adaptation has kicked in…
I may have lost track of Yingmei, but she is even closer to me now than when I had the pleasure of her company. I think I have arrived at the same place as she was, or at least very similar, but via a completely different road. Regardless of not selling tea, as a consumer I too have to make decisions; hard moral choices, and often at that.
In Xiamen, tea is like water. Or coffee. Or whatever the common beverage is where you are. It is the one must-serve item on any agenda of any social interaction, regardless of social strata or place. I am being very serious. Waiting to be seated for a meal, buying clothes, visiting a friend’s house, business deal discussions, you name it – it involves drinking tea. Sometimes better, sometimes unmentionably bad. Or sometimes one is given tea: the ones in the know will honour you with fabulous tea, and the ones with less means or less interest will give you either what they can afford or whatever happened to be given to them as how-manyeth-a-hand-me-down. Let alone the tea one buys oneself: can one afford the acquired taste? Prices rise, crops differ… So, where does one draw the line? Does one keep striving for superlatives only or does one also keep the ability to drink for the company? In other words, is hedonic adaptation in the driving seat with its authority never questioned?
The reasons why Yingmei has hero status are many. But this is one of them. Her stellar example of balance even when one’s abilities would open other possibilities remains invaluable. You can’t always have what you want. But, you can indulge every once in a while.