The breakfast rhythm seems to be onigiri, sandwich, onigiri, sandwich. So today was onigiri day.
As I’ve mentioned, we begin and end our days with chores according to the tōban list. Today was the first day that we newbies didn’t have special activities in the morning or afternoon, so we got to follow our senpai around and learn. Anita and I were on mizuya-chō detail, in charge of the preparation area outside the tearoom. Before morning lecture we stopped into the school’s second-floor kitchen to bag up everything we’d need for practice later. Then we prepared sweets, tea, water, and a hot towel (oshibori) for our teacher. After class began with a bow, Anita brought in the sweets, retreated to whisk the tea, brought it in, disappeared once more, and returned carrying a tray with the towel, glass of water, and second kind of tea.
During the first lecture period Mittner-sensei explained Urasenke’s organizational structure to us. Most of her talk went not quite over, but definitely to one side of my head. Hamana-sensei dedicated the second lecture period to a round-table get-to-know-one-another session.
We lunched quickly on hayashi rice and hurried back to prepare for afternoon practice. The mizuya-chō retrieves the day’s special sweets from the kitchen along with the various trays and wooden picks needed to serve them, makes a mental note of the arrangement of the mizuya (everything must be cleaned and restored to its original position at the end of practice, and readies stacks of towels and chakin, the strips of linen used to clean tea bowls during temae.
Hamana-sensei taught us how to fold a fukusa and use it to symbolically purify the natsume and chashaku. Like everything in tea, this is harder than it looks–and done well, it looks beautiful. Dancers and some athletes know the kind of strength and control required to make a thing look effortless, but it was new to me. Posture and movement in tea, moreover, should communicate a feeling of peacefulness to the guest, and to let go of tension when one’s knees are screaming for mercy is no mean feat.
Before he dismissed us, Hamana-sensei helped us bend our copper haisaji (ash scoops) into their ideal shapes. Then we rejoined our senpai to help clean up. The mizuya-chō puts away everything he took out while making sure everyone else has done the same. Once all the dōgu have been cleaned and replaced, the head mizuya-chō for the whole practice facility is summoned; only after his review and approval can we leave.
We hurried back to our dorms to change into work clothes and then returned to school. The floor of the large room that hosted the opening ceremonies has been covered with dozens upon dozens of tatami to transform the space into a giant practice facility. Every day Midorikai is responsible for sweeping and wiping down all those tatami. We made short, fun work of it, though, and were soon over at the shokudō, eating nice broiled fish.
Sean and I needed more appropriate work clothes than jeans and t-shirts, so Szymon took us to a kimono shop to buy samue, the pajama-like working garments of Buddhist monks, and favored cleaning attire at Urasenke. (They would also make terrific pajamas, for that matter.) Then Sean and I stopped by the 100-yen shop to buy this and that. We realized on our way home that we hadn’t had a thing to drink since the airplane ride here a week before, so we popped into Lawson for some beer and holed up for the evening in Sean’s room.
Somebody had suggested soaking sore knees in hot water, so before I went to bed I used my big bathtub for the first time. Now I doubt I’ll go a night without a bath. It works magic on the joints and is just pleasantly relaxing in general. Warm, limber, and a happy distance from sobriety, I dropped off to sleep.