The student sat in seiza, close to Ogawa sensei. In front of her was a round bronze brazier. A squat iron kettle sat in it, and a swirling entrail of steam escaped from its mouth. She moved the the tea bowl, and several curious little utensils about in a bewildering series of gestures. Ogawa sensei explained that she was performing a temae in order to make me feel at ease, and that each movement was a study in efficiency and artistry. It was "moving meditation," a practice that allowed one to develop powers of focus and concentration, he continued. The student had to think about the moment at hand, and if she was going "with the flow," then her smooth dexterity would engage my senses and I would feel calm and relaxed.

Her movements were graceful and sublime, like a ballet, except that instead of a dance on stage, the "host" was involved in what, at its most functional, was a utilitarian endeavor: that of making a bowl of tea. But I was also enthralled by her feminine beauty. Her white skin glowed ivory against the muted wood and plaster walls and yellowed tatami mats of the room. Seconds passed into minutes, minutes into. . .I don't know how long it was, time had stopped for me, until I was presented with the bowl of tea. The deep, rounded bowl had less than a half cup of mixed green tea, or matcha, in the bottom. The student mixed the powdered tea with steaming hot water, creating a frothy, bubbly mixture.

She then passed the bowl to me. Drinking the tea was like imbibing bitter-sweet clouds, like the foam of an ocean wave break without the salty taste, of drinking summer down your throat. Was it always this good, or was my hot young blood simply enthralled by the exoticness of it all, and most especially by the procelain-like beauty of the Japanese student? "Ichigo, ichi-e," Ogawa sensei said. "In tea, we have a saying. One meeting, one chance. No matter what, you will never have this moment again, so you should enjoy each moment of your life because it will not happen again. Sadako-san here may one day make you another bowl of tea [-Please!!! Anytime, I thought!], but it will never be the same, never be when you are a total beginner, a shoshinsha, ever again. You will never feel the same again."

Sadako-san, when I returned the bowl to her, proceeded to continue her intricate movements, moving the tea bowl back and forth in her hands, placing it down in front of her, using a bamboo ladle to scoop hot water and cold water into the it. "Now she is 'cleaning up,' but each step is also symbolic, not just practical," Ogawa explained. "The hot water and cold water are used not only to rinse out the bowl, but to symbolize the balance of in and yo, or yin and yang. They are the two complimentary forces of the universe. Hot and cold, male and female, up and down, darkness and light, the changing seasons. Everything flows into the other, continuously, becoming transformed, and we are just vessels, like the tea bowl, for that transformation. . ."

Uh huh. Sure, anything you say. I was preoccupied with watching Sadako-san's hands. Her fingers never splayed open. Each movement was an encyclopedia of restraint, of enticing grace. Hiding the fullness of her movements, in an odd way, was becoming quite sensual for me. Sadako-san placed a small, black-lacquered container in front of me on the tatami. She smiled when she bowed again to me, and I flushed, again, and returned the bow quite awkwardly.

"That is a natsume," Ogawa sensei said. "It is the container for the matcha tea. As a guest, she is letting you see it to appreciate it as an art object. You can open the lid up, too. . ."

I opened it up, noticing that the inside of the lid was speckled with gold flakes that glistened in the natural daylight that filtered into the room through paper-screened windows. In the natsume, which fit in the palm of my hand, was the powdered green tea, ground fine. It peaked into a mound, with one side of it cut away when Sadako scooped out some tea for the temae. I tapped the bottom of the natsume on the tatami to level off the mound. Sadako-san gasped and put a hand to her mouth.