Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Would you please correct my mistakes in the first part of my short story?
The two neighbouring countries, Frommia and Galia were like twins. They were almost similar in size and had roughly the same number of inhabitants. They shared the same political and economical system and spoke the same language. Their citizens ate the same food, loved the same sports, listened to the similar music and shared the similar outlook on life. Although there was an official border between the two countries with border crossings and guards, people would move smoothly from one country to another without noticing any difference. Nature had gifted the both nations with a large number of clean, almost intact rivers and lakes, and high mountains. These tourist attractions were visited by a large number of tourists, many of whom would return to their homelands with a tinge of envy. Such a harmony between two nations was seldom seen in the history of humankind.
Both peoples were so infatuated with tea that they would say that, instead of blood, in their veins ran tea. That could be an exaggeration, but probably it would be almost impossible to find someone in the both countries who did not drink tea. They would start sipping it as small babies, even before they could pronounce the word tea, and they would end up gulping down a few litters every day when they grew older. In many countries, a dying person would be given the last rites, but in Frommia and Galia it was a cup of tea. To die without tasting your favourite drink one last time was an unforgivable sin.
When people woke in the morning, they would rush to put a kettle on and make a nice cup of tea. The ritual would be repeated in all homes all over the two countries, from small quiet villages to busy towns and cities, in the simple homes of ordinary workers as well as in the mansions of intellectuals and businesspersons. Tea drinking was so deep-rooted in these societies that it had imbued every part of life. Everything and everybody was subordinate to it. Work places, schools, offices, old people’s homes, prisons and other institutions, they all had to make provision for tea drinking. Even Parliament sessions would be stopped or delayed so that MPs could refresh their minds and mouths with a few cups of tea. In many countries in the world people used to build mosques and churches, but in Frommia and Galia they built temples of tea. They were splendid buildings to which people congregated in their thousands to worship tea and learn how to brew it. Of course, you could buy all kinds of tea in these two countries, like Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Assam or Jasmine, but the majority of citizens preferred to make their own blend. People wished to express themselves through their teas. Thus, lovers made each other the most exquisite sweet teas, which echoed their love. But those who were contemplating divorce brewed the most bitter teas imaginable, as if they wished to poison their partners. This subtle art of tea was so advanced that you did not need to wonder what your spouses, friends and colleagues thought of you. A mouthful of their tea was more informative than their spoken words.
Only a small detail told apart these neighbouring countries. While in Frommia people drank tea without milk, in Galia they drank it with it. Nobody was able to prove scientifically the cause of this difference, but the legend said that in the 14th century Galia’s young King Bartoleo married a beautiful woman from abroad. She was called Adonia, and she became the Queen of Galia. She loved tea, just as her husband had, and it was she who introduced milk with tea. The young king did not like the idea of milk in tea, which was viewed as a taboo, but seeing his wife suffering of nostalgia and withering away, he had to compromise. After he had granted her her wish, Adonia’s health improved immediately, and her beauty blossomed like a flower in the springtime. The legend said that one cold winter night, as she and the King sat huddled together whispering endearing words to each other, Adonia, crafty as women are, lifted her cup and put it to Bartoleo’s lips. In the room lit by a dancing fire in the fireplace and a few candles, the enchanted King did not notice he was sipping from his wife’s cup. Although he had broken the taboo, he had to admit his wife was right - tea tasted better with milk. From that moment, it had not taken long before all the Royal family and then the whole country drank their tea with milk. But another mystery remained unsolved. Why tea with milk never took hold in the neighbouring Frommia? The scientists, tea specialists and historians from both countries had tried to find the answer, but despite their endeavour, they were unable to agree on their theories.
TO BE CONTINUED
The two neighbouring countries, Frommia and Galia were like twins. They were almost similar in size and had roughly the same number of inhabitants. They shared the same political and economical system and spoke the same language. Their citizens ate the same food, loved the same sports, listened to the similar music and shared the similar outlook on life. Although there was an official border between the two countries with border crossings and guards, people would move smoothly from one country to another without noticing any difference. Nature had gifted the both nations with a large number of clean, almost intact rivers and lakes, and high mountains. These tourist attractions were visited by a large number of tourists, many of whom would return to their homelands with a tinge of envy. Such a harmony between two nations was seldom seen in the history of humankind.
Both peoples were so infatuated with tea that they would say that, instead of blood, in their veins ran tea. That could be an exaggeration, but probably it would be almost impossible to find someone in the both countries who did not drink tea. They would start sipping it as small babies, even before they could pronounce the word tea, and they would end up gulping down a few litters every day when they grew older. In many countries, a dying person would be given the last rites, but in Frommia and Galia it was a cup of tea. To die without tasting your favourite drink one last time was an unforgivable sin.
When people woke in the morning, they would rush to put a kettle on and make a nice cup of tea. The ritual would be repeated in all homes all over the two countries, from small quiet villages to busy towns and cities, in the simple homes of ordinary workers as well as in the mansions of intellectuals and businesspersons. Tea drinking was so deep-rooted in these societies that it had imbued every part of life. Everything and everybody was subordinate to it. Work places, schools, offices, old people’s homes, prisons and other institutions, they all had to make provision for tea drinking. Even Parliament sessions would be stopped or delayed so that MPs could refresh their minds and mouths with a few cups of tea. In many countries in the world people used to build mosques and churches, but in Frommia and Galia they built temples of tea. They were splendid buildings to which people congregated in their thousands to worship tea and learn how to brew it. Of course, you could buy all kinds of tea in these two countries, like Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Assam or Jasmine, but the majority of citizens preferred to make their own blend. People wished to express themselves through their teas. Thus, lovers made each other the most exquisite sweet teas, which echoed their love. But those who were contemplating divorce brewed the most bitter teas imaginable, as if they wished to poison their partners. This subtle art of tea was so advanced that you did not need to wonder what your spouses, friends and colleagues thought of you. A mouthful of their tea was more informative than their spoken words.
Only a small detail told apart these neighbouring countries. While in Frommia people drank tea without milk, in Galia they drank it with it. Nobody was able to prove scientifically the cause of this difference, but the legend said that in the 14th century Galia’s young King Bartoleo married a beautiful woman from abroad. She was called Adonia, and she became the Queen of Galia. She loved tea, just as her husband had, and it was she who introduced milk with tea. The young king did not like the idea of milk in tea, which was viewed as a taboo, but seeing his wife suffering of nostalgia and withering away, he had to compromise. After he had granted her her wish, Adonia’s health improved immediately, and her beauty blossomed like a flower in the springtime. The legend said that one cold winter night, as she and the King sat huddled together whispering endearing words to each other, Adonia, crafty as women are, lifted her cup and put it to Bartoleo’s lips. In the room lit by a dancing fire in the fireplace and a few candles, the enchanted King did not notice he was sipping from his wife’s cup. Although he had broken the taboo, he had to admit his wife was right - tea tasted better with milk. From that moment, it had not taken long before all the Royal family and then the whole country drank their tea with milk. But another mystery remained unsolved. Why tea with milk never took hold in the neighbouring Frommia? The scientists, tea specialists and historians from both countries had tried to find the answer, but despite their endeavour, they were unable to agree on their theories.
TO BE CONTINUED
