People begin love affairs for many different reasons: the relationship they're in isn't giving them the love they want, their new romance, or the idea of the secrecy of the affair, is more exciting. All these reasons begin a new relationship. The security of a solid relationship isn't quite enough for some, and the taste of a new involvement overcomes their sense of commitment. It was that taste that caused my slip, the new flavour I had taken sips of but never before had I given myself fully. My affair began long before I left for England. Yes, I had had glimpses of the ache this love would give me, but the "warm fuzzy feelings" won out and like everything I put 110% of me into this.

At first it was just once or twice a week, and I could justify every meeting. You know: on the way to the store, that great study break, wanting it as soon as the first foggy thoughts of awaking came to me, long before my eyes even opened. Then, almost before I even realized it, those once a week meetings became a daily rendezvous. Like anyone else in a situation similar to this, I claimed I could get out of it whenever I wanted, and that I could say no at any point. By the time I left for England, I realized that this was grossly untrue. Now there was no escape, I was in over my head, and I couldn't last a day without that glorious contact. Secrecy became less of an issue and one day I no longer cared. I had gone past the point of no return and even now, I revel in the openness.

Initially when I left for England I thought the contact would suffer, and I would begin my departure from the relationship. Oh, no. England made it worse, beautifully, brilliantly, worse. For here, in this land of crazy football fans, some of the best musicians in the world, and more than half the known audio engineers on the South Coast, my love affair grew, was fed, and blew out of control...

Unlike America, tea in England is not only a social event, but a remedy as well. My first encounter with the remedial value of tea came soon after my arrival in England. The newness had begun to wear off, homesickness had kicked in, and email had become my main source of communication with my American life. On this particular day the American news had been bad and along with pictures of my family, my homesickness took hold and tears came in full force. My new English friend patted me on the back and asked, "do you want a cup of tea?"

Startled, I nodded, for I had never used tea as a remedy, only for pleasure. It seems that had been his mother's remedy for everything from illness to a lost football match. I had long loved to drink tea. On a cold, damp and dreary, Oregon winter day, there is nothing compared to a hot cup of tea whilst reading or studying. Or just for the pure, unadulterated, beautiful pleasure of it. But in my case it was pleasure tea, or even social tea. I had not yet discovered the art of drinking the remedy of tea. My love affair broadened.

England is the perfect place to learn this...

Unlike the philosophy of bustling, corporate, coffee shops, tea drinking is not only a daily habit, a social and historical event, but also a comfort, ease for shock, and basic heal-all. So common that it borders on the mundane, the average Brit consumes 4-5 cups of tea a day. Nearly always black with a bit of milk, tea in England is a sacred ritual. One cannot just make tea; one must learn how to "make tea." Milk in the cups first, once perhaps a social status symbol, now keeps the cups from cracking. Sugar is an option, but for many, milk is the only additive. Just like the tea, personality additives are rare in this country, and it's the sincerity of the people that should be the focus of letters home. As tea became more than my pleasurable love affair and became my daily connection with these people, I learned more about their culture and way of life than any tourist guide could tell me. Without the remedy of tea, without my love affair with it, I would never have fallen so deeply in love with an entire country of people, and their way of life.

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