The Universal Language

On certain Saturdays of the month, the students participate in clubs. Some clubs are for certain sports while others for academics and art. On Saturday morning I had the opportunity to go to a pottery making class with my co-teacher and some of my students. The class took place in a little village just up the mountain from our school.

The class itself was entertaining. As many of you may know my artistic experience ended in middle school and, well, actually, I don’t think it ever began. But I had a wonderful time being with my students and they encouraged me with “you do it, teacher!” and rolling the clay for me. I ended up with a pretty good looking bowl and can’t wait to finish it next month.

But perhaps the most fascinating part of my pottery experience came when the students left. I soon found out that the class was held at the home of a famous Korean ceramicist. Apparently he primarily does painting now, but his sons continue his work and make pottery. My teacher showed me their gallery. Walking into the gallery was almost magical. After struggling to make a bowl that could actually be useful, seeing shelf after shelf of intricate, colorful bowls, tea sets, and vases was invigorating in a way. Their pottery is unique because it is not usually painted. Instead, they adjust the kiln temperatures and use the wind to create different colors and patterns. Each raw, handmade piece revealed a more simplistic and authentic side of Korean culture that I had not experienced before.

Then, a woman entered the gallery and greeted my co-teacher. Apparently she was an old friend and the wife of one of the sons who makes the pottery. She invited us to have tea with her, so we sat on the floor at a little table in the middle of the gallery. Soon I realized this would be a very special experience. Oh how I wished I could understand Korean!

This woman teaches classes about tea and shared all her knowledge with my co-teacher and me. Through translation, I learned that I tasted a 70 year old black tea (apparently black tea should be fermented for many years in order for it to be good—nowadays they use chemicals to speed up the process which is not a good thing), red tea made from leaves 100 years old, and a powdered green tea. The teas were delicious but the woman’s demeanor really captured my attention. She prepared the tea so delicately and spiritually. We learned that one tea was supposed to improve our spirits while another improved our complexion. Then, with such humility, she intertwined her passion for tea with her husband’s pottery talents by explaining piece after piece of pottery. For example, she had us look into the bottom of a bowl and asked us if we could see the galaxy as the bowl’s colors and speckles represented our connection to the universe. And, while we drank hot water from one of the bowls, she asked if we could feel our bodies absorbing the minerals from the clay.

Finally, before leaving, she gave me nearly 200,000 won ($200) worth of pottery. I was in awe, but she graciously explained how she had met many foreigners and none were so respectful and interested in Korean culture as myself. She could see kindness in my eyes, she said. I was flattered. My teacher later explained that this was her way to show not only how proud she was of her culture, but her gratitude for my presence. “Just enjoy this kindness” my teacher continued to say as I was trying to think of something I could do in return for the woman. As my co-teacher explained this in English, I yearned for the chance to say a word or phrase the woman could understand. However, I suppose this universal language called “kindness” communicates more than any spoken word ever could.

-Callie