Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.
- Ludwig Wittgenstein
I stumbled upon this beautiful tea house while wandering around old town - it is part of a local social enterprise and run by speech and hearing impaired persons. So to place your order you are provided with little wooden blocks that say 'hot water' or 'bill' or 'thank you', alongside with pencil and paper to scribble. It opens unto a street with only bicycles and pedestrians and on another side, a small rustic courtyard where a local gentleman teaches you to play his self-made pentatonic instrument. 'So you play the piano?' I smiled. My snow mountain jasmine tea arrived, and I drank slowly, pouring gently, as if it is ceremonial. Here every one, as if captivated by the extraordinary silence, stops speaking and starts devouring the sounds of the rain, leaves fluttering with the wind, book page turning. And there she stands, making tea, quiet and resolute.