The Northwest Rain (Sai Pa Ho) is a type of sudden rain that occurs in central Taiwan. It is subtropical, intense, and surprisingly quick to leave, making it an impatient rain.
The Northwest Rain, named by someone, always seems to come from the same exact direction: rising from the west across the Taiwan Strait, and the low-hanging clouds swiftly invade central Taiwan.
Taichung is a city located quite inland, with a port town called Taichung Port located halfway between the mouths of the Dajia and Dazi creeks, which flow north and south.Today's rain was coming from the direction of Taichung Port, and was beginning to spread over the hills between the two towns, its ridges already beginning to be enveloped in a vague veil of water vapor.
Intense lightning splits the sky, and a short delay later, thunder strikes the earth. "The northwest rain has arrived," says Uncle Hung, picking up a large fruit called jackfruit, known in Taiwan as bolomi.
"I guess it's what we call a 'thunderstorm' in Japan."
"But I think this northwest rain is heavier. The air feels different," I said.
At the same time, I was reminded of the smell of dust that wafted after an evening shower in the city of Kyoto where I grew up. The alley where our house was located was a small gravel-paved street, but the unique scent that emanated from the rain falling on the plants and roof tiles was one of joy, the union of heaven and earth. This is the home of Uncle Hong's eldest son. Even in the rapidly developing city of Taichung, this high-rise apartment building stands out, built by the construction company where he is an executive. It is the first of its kind to symbolize a new way of life in Taiwan.
The familiar smell of the evening showers seems unlikely to reach the terrace of the 15th-floor penthouse, but the lingering rain that has already moved away from the old town toward the Central Mountain Range has transformed the air from the harshness of summer into something refreshing. My wife's cousin, the eldest son of the Hong family, announces that tea is ready. Gen-chan, the eldest son, serves us his special spring tea, using the same technique inherited from his father. The water must be brought to a boiling point, and the right amount of tea leaves must be placed in a teapot the right size for the number of people. Uncle Hong, who lives in Changhua, was the first person to teach me the correct way to brew Chinese tea.
The uncle is the husband of my wife's mother's younger sister. We have known each other since my wife first visited Taiwan, the land of her ancestors, over a dozen years ago, when she stayed with the Hung family. That night, after entertaining guests at a nearby restaurant, the uncle taught me how to make Tianfu tea in the Hung family's living room. Until then, I had enjoyed Chinese tea in a large pot, just like black tea, so the way he made the tea was a constant surprise to me.
I put the teapot and teacups in the teapot and thoroughly warm all the vessels with boiling water. I also learned for the first time that it is possible to make quite strong tea using a small teapot.
"Young people these days seem to shy away from strong teas like this, but good tea has always been enjoyed this way."
It was a deeply stimulating tea unlike anything I had ever tasted before. The color and flavor of the tea ceremony was like a deep golden yellow, and the noble fragrance filled the room.
At the time, my uncle was working at a pineapple canning factory. This was just before the boom in Taiwanese oolong tea, and it was not yet the era in Taiwan where everyone drank expensive tea on a daily basis like they do today.
The house in the suburban alleyway that is home to the famous Changhua landmark, the Bakkasan Great Buddha, was an average-sized house for the central region, located in a section of the alley where houses lined the street, but in the breezy windows and backyard there were an astonishing number of potted Phalaenopsis orchids. In other words, the uncle embodied the tastes of a Chinese literati.
He was born in a time when Taiwan was still part of the Empire of Japan and was known as Taiwan Prefecture, and was an intellectual enough to graduate from a former junior high school as a child of Taiwanese descent.However, he overcame many hardships during the chaotic times of war and postwar Japan, and is a member of the generation that built the foundation for today's amazing economic development during the postwar reconstruction period.
Therefore, he had high expectations for his children, giving them the best possible educational opportunities, and enjoying tea and orchids was a small source of comfort for him as he worked silently every day.
"This is the first time I've had such delicious oolong tea. I see, so that's how you brew it."
As I was overwhelmed by the oolong tea being poured one after the other into teacups the size of walnut shells, I was impressed that Taiwan had such fine taste, when the teacher said, "This is tea from a place called Luku in Nantou County. The tea there is very popular right now."
The man seems to have been born before the war, and he pronounces Taiwanese place names in the way they were pronounced during the Japanese era.
"It might not be possible on this trip, but the next time you come to Taiwan, it would be a good idea to stop by Lugu. I went directly to Lugu in my friend's car the other day and bought this at the agricultural cooperative store."
The tea bag the man showed me had the symbol of the Lugu Farmers' Association, the year in the Republic of China calendar, the words Spring Tea Sales Exhibition and Dongding Oolong Tea on it.
"From the poor postwar period until recently, tea was a drink that was far removed from the common people of Taiwan. Originally it was an export product and a source of income for Taiwan, so domestic consumption was low."
