Aunt Tiwi’s Tea

By Shafa F.K.

When asked if I would like a drink, sometimes I would say, “Yes, thank you.” And if the next question was, “What kind?” My answer would be, “Anything works for me.” Surely, “Thank you” would be the words that came to mind for the person. I encountered these common situations whenever I visited friends, family, acquaintances, or people in general.

I remembered it was noon. I was about 11 years old when my father picked me up from school, and he didn’t take me straight home. Instead, he took me to Aunt Tiwi’s house. The house was a good size, with a garage and a small yard for flowers and plants. The wall used to be cream, not blue, as I saw a few days ago. It’s been eleven years, and even simple things like wall paint have changed.

Unannounced, my father honked outside the slightly rusty copper fence to see if she was home. Soon after, her bright, smiling face greeted us from the other side of the wall. I kissed her hand, known as salim—a respectful gesture when meeting older people.

Then she made us tea.

Scorching hot teas were poured into tiny white-green porcelain cups. I breathed in the intoxicating scent of floral jasmine. The reddish-brown color on top gave the impression of enough astringency to make it more enjoyable. My father and I had to wait a few minutes for it to cool down before we could drink it. Just staring at it made my glasses foggy. It tasted strongly of sweet jasmine, blooming in my mouth with a subtle hint of bitterness at the finish. I used to hate waiting a few minutes before drinking it, and I still do today.

It was her birthday just last Friday. My family and other relatives gathered at her house to celebrate. These days, she makes iced tea. I eagerly sipped the chilled drinks. The tea offered me swirls of a polar breeze, cooling the heat of the hot weather. As always, her tea was uniquely special. It’s been almost two months since I returned home from Jogja. In Jogja, there was an angkringan—a food stall selling various traditional foods owned by my mom’s friend, which I occasionally visited.

Tea was part of her menu.

Her tea was exceptionally refreshing, and I found myself enjoying every sip. In fact, the flavor reminded me remarkably of Aunt Tiwi’s tea. So, I thought that was the key to what I was searching for. I just needed the brand of the tea leaves to make it back home. Turns out I made a few attempts and failed. The tea tasted different, although my mom said it was the same brand. It was still pleasantly nice, though I never tried making it again and returned to using the tea bags I had at the back of my cupboard. 

“I’d had enough of experimenting with brewed tea leaves,” I said. 

Then, I asked my mom to make it for me. Maybe it would taste better because, like food, sometimes it tastes better when someone else makes it for us.

Yet it didn’t.

I never questioned it until later. My mom said, “Aunt Tiwi’s tea was different. She said, Aunt Tiwi uses different recipes for her tea. The hot tea only uses a specific brand of tea leaves, but for the cold tea, she blends six different brands.”

This utterly shocked me.

I was usually delicate about flavors. I’m quite particular about mineral water because I thought they all tasted different, and I have my own preferences— yet I missed this one. And in that moment, it occurred to me. I finally got my unanswered question after a long time. It was never the tea that brought me the feeling. It was the place and the person. Buying a bulk of the so-called best tea wouldn’t matter to me if it weren’t for Aunt Tiwi’s. Her place is like a red pin on Google Maps—where everyone gathers happily with laughter, then leaves before coming together again. With the right people, maybe that’s why Mom’s friend’s tea tasted almost the same as Aunt Tiwi’s. It reminded me of the significance and beauty of human connection shared over a drink. The real ingredient was found in familiar places that comfort us and make shared moments unforgettable.

Shafa F.K. (b. 2003) is from Indonesia. Writing has been her passion, as reading the stories of other writers brings her joy. She earned an undergraduate degree in Philosophy from Universitas Gadjah Mada. Her works are diverse, but she mainly enjoys writing about emotions and relationships through the river of life. Connect with her through writing: https://dailyprompt.com/profile/zdOsyPg9cBXbAYmWQGpMgArKFP43