老茶館
Level 4 · 文化 · 215 vocabulary words
成都的一条老街上,有一家开了一百多年的茶馆。木头房子,竹椅子,门口挂着一块旧旧的牌子。
On an old street in Chengdu stands a teahouse over a hundred years old: wooden rooms, bamboo chairs, a faded sign at the door.
每天早上六点,茶馆就开门了。第一批客人是附近的老人,他们带着自己的茶杯,一坐就是一上午。
It opens at six each morning. The first guests are old neighbors who bring their own cups and sit the whole morning.
这里的规矩很简单:一杯茶十几块钱,坐多久都行。茶没了,喊一声添水,伙计提着大铜壶就过来了。
The rule is simple: a pot of tea costs a dozen yuan, sit as long as you like. When it runs low, call for water and the server comes with a big copper kettle.
长嘴铜壶是这里的特色。壶嘴有一米多长,伙计站在桌子外面,手腕一翻,滚水就从高高的地方冲进茶杯,一滴也不洒。
The long-spouted kettle is its pride. The spout runs over a meter; the server stands back, turns a wrist, and boiling water arcs high into the cup without spilling a drop.
上午十点以后,人渐渐多了。有人在下棋,有人在聊天,有人什么也不做,就看着街上的人走来走去。
After ten the crowd grows. Some play chess, some chat, some do nothing but watch people pass.
四川人管这叫摆龙门阵,意思是坐在一起说闲话,天南海北,什么都能聊。
Sichuan people call this setting out the dragon gate: sitting together for idle talk about everything under the sky.
角落里,几位老人在谈一笔生意。四川人谈生意不在办公室,在茶馆。茶喝透了,事情也就谈好了。
In a corner, old men talk business. Sichuan people do business not in offices but in teahouses; when the tea is drunk through, the deal is done.
茶馆的一边,还有掏耳朵的师傅在干活。细细的银签在客人耳边轻轻转,客人闭着眼睛,舒服得快要睡着了。
Along one side an ear-cleaning master works, a slim silver pick turning gently by a customer's ear; the customer's eyes close, nearly asleep.
一百多年了,这条街上的高楼起来了,马路宽了,只有这家茶馆还是老样子。
For over a century the street has grown tall buildings and wide roads; only this teahouse stays the same.
中午,茶馆里来了几个游客,举着手机对着铜壶拍照。伙计也不恼,反而把壶嘴举得更高,让他们拍个够。
At noon a few tourists came in holding phones at the copper kettle. The server wasn't annoyed; he raised the spout higher so they could shoot their fill.
下午三点,阳光从木窗照进来,落在盖碗茶上。有人眯着眼睛打盹,茶壶里的水咕嘟咕嘟,像这条老街的心跳。
At three in the afternoon sunlight slants through the wooden window onto the covered-bowl tea. Someone dozes with half-shut eyes while kettles murmur, like the heartbeat of this old street.
收茶钱的时候,老客人把钱放在桌上,伙计从来不数,也不多问。这种信任,是几十年一杯茶一杯茶泡出来的。
When the old customers pay, they leave the money on the table and the server never counts it or asks. That kind of trust was brewed cup by cup over decades.
茶馆墙上挂着一张老照片,是五十年代拍的:一样的竹椅子,一样的铜壶,只是喝茶的人换了一代又一代。
On the wall hangs an old photograph from the fifties: the same bamboo chairs, the same copper kettles, only the tea drinkers have changed, generation after generation.
有人问老板,为什么不重新装修一下。老板说:客人来这里,喝的不是茶,是老成都的日子。
Someone asked the owner why not renovate. He answered: what guests come to drink here is not tea, but the old days of Chengdu.