Diary of My Country Life-May 9th, 2026

The original source of this blog: https://www.lotusandmichael.com/blogs/diary-of-my-country-life

05/09/2026 Saturday 54-68F Cloudy

It’s not easy to get a simple cup of tea—behind it, a lot of efforts are needed. 

In general, there are six types of tea which are defined by the processing technics: White tea, yellow tea, green tea, Oolong tea, black tea, and dark tea. So theoretically we can make different tea with the same tea plant. But because of many other factors, such as the climate, the environment, the soil, the tradition, tea plants growing in specific area are best suited for specific type of tea. So that’s why some areas produce green tea, while some others are famous for oolong. 

About the procedures, the main differences focus on: When the tea leaves should be picked; process with fresh leaves or wilted ones; and fermentations. If the freshly picked leaves are toasted right away, the tea will be green tea; opposite, if the fresh leaves wilt a bit then shaken so their edges can rub against each other to get partially fermented before toasting, the tea will become Oolong tea; but if you choose to rub (more like knead) the wilted leaves hard so they can ferment more thoroughly, the tea will become black tea rather than Oolong. 

Among all the six types of tea, Pu-er is the most special. There are two kinds of Pu-er commonly seen: Raw Pu-er and Fermented Pu-er. I consider raw Pu-er sort of green tea while fermented Pu-er dark tea based on their respective procedures. Personally, I prefer raw Pu-er; I like its clean, mellow flavor since its fermentation is naturally processed during the storage so in the market, the longer raw Pu-er has aged, the higher its price. Sometimes we can even find raw Pu-er produced half century ago; in that case, its price is influenced more by its rareness rather than its taste.

I like drinking tea; we drink tea every early afternoon not only because tea offers a lot of health benefits, but also because it allows us to have a short break during the day. Our daily tea is very simple—due to the limited amount of my raw Pu-er which I purchased in Shanghai more than ten years ago, we only drink it occasionally. Most days we drink the green tea from my hometown, the flower tea I harvested from my garden, like peonies, and sometimes our tea can be just as simple as a slice of lemon in plain water. 

But referring to the traditional tea, good tea always comes from mountain areas regardless of its type. The higher, the deeper the mountains are, the better flavor the tea will obtain. In the southern mountains, all year round there are mists hanging over so the weather is warm yet cool, and humid. On the other hand, because of this tea-favored landscape, the use of modern equipment is limited. In many tea plantations nowadays, people still mainly depend on hand-picking to harvest tea leaves and use laborers to carry baskets of leaves out of the narrow, bumpy-pathed mountains.

In fact, when I painted the painting “Tea on Their Shoulders”, I had a strong emotion. In my childhood, I saw often how farmers used shoulder sticks to carry heavy loads of more than one hundred pounds, and walk for miles. My father told me that during his teenhood and young manhood in 1960s and 1970s, he used to shoulder carry the family’s farm produce from the village to the town. The distance was about sixteen miles. He left the village far before dawn, wearing his worn cloth shoes on the dirt road, most of time with an empty stomach. The light was dim; he alone headed for the town. He must hurry; he needed to arrive his destination at dawn so he could sell his produce earlier and hopefully at a better price. Usually, it took him about four hours to get there; if that day he was lucky, he could sell his produce before noon; then after eating one or two dry bread or boiled potatoes taken from home, or sometimes remaining hungry, he set for home. No rest: There would be dozens of farm tasks waiting for him. If that day’s sale was bad, he had to wait for a longer time and carry the unsold goods home at dusk. 

When my father told me this, I felt desperate for him. Since he had experienced all the bitter and hardships, he cherished what he had and never allowed us to waste even a single grain of rice in the rice bowl. 

So I painted these men; they are fathers; they are sons; they are someone’s husbands, and they are someone’s siblings, friends…they could be, and can be you and me. I sing praises of them, of the men who earn their livings with their hands and sweat beads, so their money is clean--no matter what sum they make, and what services they offer.

Now I have painted two paintings about tea harvesting; I am thinking that perhaps I can do more by painting farmers selling their tea in the market, and toasting tea at a kiln…The last painting of this tea serial should be just a glass of tea, simple but powerful, after all these hard work and long journeys. 

I will finish some other works first, then will let you know once I fulfill this idea.