Dragons and Rainbows

Rainbows and Dragons

Stepping into the room felt like entering a magical world. Outside everything was pure chaos. Typical high school life: go to class, the bell rings, leave the classroom, head to your locker, swap textbooks, and then race to the next classroom before the bell rings again. This was the world she had just left behind. Being the last student to arrive, as the bell rang, she turned to close the door. That was when she saw it. The largest, brightest rainbow in the world, or so she thought. It started on the floor, arched over the door she had just walked through, and then came back down to the floor on the other side. She stood there, transfixed. Surrounding the rainbow, the wall was painted blue, the colour of the sky outside. Mixed into the ‘sky’ were stars of various sizes. As she gazed at them, they seemed to twinkle and sparkle. This was where she belonged. Not in Math or English or History or Science, but here in this magical classroom called ‘Art’. She was afraid to turn fearing she might lose the feeling of wonderment that the rainbow gave her, yet she must.   

Turning to look at the wall to her right, she saw a large green climbing vine.  It wound its way up and down the wall with colourful flowers intermingled among the vine’s stem and its leaves.  The leaves were large, heart shaped with purplish looking veins.  It appeared so real she felt compelled to touch it.  Embarrassed, she quickly turned away, but not before her fingers brushed over the vine.

To her left, there was an emerald-coloured creek winding up and down the wall. Along its shoreline were cat-o'-nine tails, tall reeds, and stones of various sizes.  She blinked; had she just seen the reeds sway as if in a breeze?  Suddenly, she saw a fish swim up the creek, right past her.  Its scales sparkled a glistening silver as it swam by. Then another and another.  Shaking her head in disbelief she turned away as they disappeared.

At the far end of the room stood the teacher.  “Welcome to Art class.  I am Mrs. Marsh.  We have all afternoon to get to know each other.  Feel free to wander around.”  Her dress, a mixture of bright and vibrant colours, flowed around her, swishing as it brushed the floor.  Not at all like the pastel-coloured dresses her prime and proper mother always wore. Was Mrs. Marsh, with her flowing black hair held back with a colourful scarf, with dark eyes and red lips, a gypsy woman?  Her voice was soft, almost melodious.  On her desk sat a large teapot.  It was the largest one she had ever seen. Painted on it was a brightly coloured green and red dragon, its body winding around the pot.  On the lid was a pair of golden-coloured eyes which appeared to glow.  Wait, did they just blink?  Of course not.  The spout was the dragon’s mouth, open wide with its gleaming white teeth.  The handle was the dragon’s glistening tail. As Mrs. Marsh reached for the handle, it appeared to wind around her hand.  On her desk were 12 teacups. The same number as students.  Each cup was painted a different coloured dragon.

“We must have tea before the class begins.  Come and pick for yourself a teacup.”  As she began to pour the tea, red flames streamed from its mouth. We all gasped, hesitating to reach for a teacup.  She didn’t seem to notice our reaction.

“The tea is Rooibos.  It is a caffeine-free herbal tea made from the leaves of the Aspalathus linearis plant, which is native to South Africa.”

What kind of plant? ‘Aspala’ something, I contemplated as I warily picked up the sapphire-coloured dragon cup.  Being careful not to spill the tea.  Worried my fingers would get burnt by the flames, aka red tea.  Still musing she must be a gypsy.  Yet, looking into my cup, all I saw was reddish-brown tea.

“On the board behind me are three pictures.  The first is of the plant before harvest, next the tea leaves freshly harvested, and finally the dried leaves which I used to brew the tea you are about to drink.  The map beside the pictures is of Cederberg, a small mountainous area on the western coast of South Africa where rooibos is commonly grown.  Look closely at the picture beside the map. It shows rows of green rooibos shrubs on a hillside farm.  Can you see the differences and the similarities of the local canola fields?” 

Ah, now this is more like it.  Time to learn.  Wonder if I will get to paint a rainbow, I thought as my mind wandered away from the rooibos story and I glanced back at the rainbow.   Will my paintings come alive as those on the walls, I wondered?

“Before you take a drink, I would like everyone breathe in the scent of the tea. What do you imagine as you smell it?”  

As I took in the aroma, it reminded me of the out-of-doors, like wet dirt after the rain.  Unconsciously, I turned to look at the creek.  I realized it was the same smell I had had when I first looked at that wall.  The earthy whiff as the creek’s water flowed alongside the reeds and stones.  How had I forgotten that scent or was I just smelling it now?

“Next, I would like everyone to slowly sip the tea.  As you do, what does the flavour remind you of?”  

At home, we drank bitter tasting black tea. I always added a splash of cream and some sugar.  This tea tasted different. It had a sweet nutty flavour.  Looking over at the vine on the other wall, I noticed there were small brownish looking nuts sprinkled on the ground.  How did I miss them?  

“Everyone, please take a seat.  As you finish sipping your tea, paint a picture that comes to your mind.  Use your senses of touch, taste, smell, hear, and see.”  

Class had begun.  Yet, I kept glancing back at the three walls as I slowly put paint to paper.  Feeling the energy from those paintings merge into mine.

Each week when we arrived at Art class, there was a different teapot with a different tea for us to savour.