A Yeti Heart

This is a collaboration between
@cecicastor and @tatswaru

all photos courtesy of pixabay

Chapter 14 continued...

With great dignity the yeti tea ceremony began. Barati took the teapot and set it before him. He carefully poured some of the steaming water into the teapot and gently swirled it around. He began chanting some thing unintelligible in low guttural sounds.

After a few minutes he tossed the swirled water aside, poured in another small measure of steaming water, added a handful of dried tea leaves, then filled the pot to the brim and replaced the lid. He then set the pot to the side and methodically wrapped it in a small cream coloured woven cloth.

He reached into the basket a few more times and brought out two small earthen jars, three tiny carved bamboo sticks, one larger carved piece of wood, a minuscule scoop made from a baby gourd,and a medium sized covered basket.

One of the jars contained honey which he deftly poured into the sugar bowl and added the large carved piece of wood. The other jar contained what resembled real English clotted cream! This he spooned into the creamer with the scoop. He then opened the other basket to reveal blueberry scones and a tiny earthen jar containing some mixed berry compote!

He set the teacups and saucers in front of him, placed a small bamboo stick beside each cup and began to pour the tea in a precise fashion, handing me the first cup, the second to Gyaltsen, and finally serving himself all the while chanting lowly.

At last Barati stopped chanting, smiled and said; “Here is to good friendship and fond memories; to friends we have in common and those we keep in our hearts!” Now he indicted that we should sweeten our tea with the honey.

He passed the basket of scones, fruit compote, and clotted cream to each of us in turn. The only sounds heard were the sounds made by the happy fishermen splashing in the water, a few chirping birds and the soft baaing of sheep in the distance.

After a time, Barati broke from his reverie, and looked to his friend. Their eyes met and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Gyaltsen asked me if I enjoyed the yeti tea ceremony.

I replied that this was the very first tea ceremony that I had ever experienced and I found it quite stirring. I glanced at Barati. I found that I had an unquenchable desire for knowledge of the ceremony, and pondered whether or not I dare ask any of the multitudes of questions begging to be answered.

Almost as if he could read my inquiring mind, Barati spoke.

“Many years ago a New Zealand mountain climber by the name of Edmund Hillary came to the mountains on a personal quest; to be the first to conquer Everest. On the first attempt he became lost in a blinding snow storm and was separated from his guide. He was suffering from the mountain sickness, snow blindness and hypothermia when my father found him lying on a ledge, far from civilization.

My father carried him back to our clan-gather over his shoulder, much in the same fashion as I carried you. Against the advice of the elders, my father decided to nurse Edmund back to health.

After many weeks of convalescence in my father’s clan, my father and Edmund became inseparable friends. When Edmund was ready to leave and return home, he made a promise to my father that he would not reveal the existence of the yetis and that he would return unaccompanied to visit from time to time.

With each visit, Edmund would bring wonderful gifts. On the first trip he brought my mother the tea set that Duma now uses, among other fine things. Another trip provided our clan-gather an oak weaving loom. Over the years we learned much from Edmund.

He was a bee-keeper in a lace called Auckland, New Zealand before he started his serious mountain climbing. He taught my father and some other yetis about bee-keeping. He taught the elders how to make a good cup of tea. In due course the tea ceremony evolved and was passed down from clan to clan.

To be continued...