As a Nepali doctoral student, I joined my Chinese peers on a social-practice journey to Pinghe County, Zhangzhou, from July 9 to 13, 2026. I arrived with academic curiosity, but also with the uneasiness of a foreigner entering an unfamiliar place. My Chinese was still limited. Yet over those five days, I gradually discovered that tea can speak across languages, and that technology can help build bridges between cultures.
Our journey began in the misty mountains of Pengxi Village, the birthplace of Bai Ya Qilan tea, a tea cultivar known for its delicate orchid-like fragrance. Standing among approximately 3,600 mu of tea gardens, I felt an immediate connection with the land. Nepal also has tea-covered hills, but the fragrance in Pinghe carried a character that was distinctly local.
Under Professor Hao Zhilong's patient guidance, I learned about the carefully connected stages of Bai Ya Qilan tea processing: plucking moderately mature shoots with two or three leaves, withering, repeated shaking and resting during the zuoqing process, fixation, rolling, and drying. Each step required technical skill, patience, and respect for the leaves.
Senior Agronomist Huang Manrong's demonstration of traditional rolling techniques, passed down through generations, moved me deeply. Before this visit, I had mostly encountered tea as a finished beverage. Seeing fresh leaves transformed step by step into aromatic tea changed the way I understood tea.
Throughout the journey, AI tools became quiet companions in my language learning. My Chinese classmates showed me how to use translation applications and voice-recognition tools to learn new words in real situations. In tea gardens and processing areas, I learned terms such as "withering", "oxidation", "aroma", and "rolling".
This combination of AI tools and real-life experience turned the five-day visit into an immersive language course. By the end of the journey, I could greet farmers, ask simple questions about tea harvesting, and communicate through smiles, gestures, and digital tools that never tired of my repeated practice.
One highlight of the journey was the New-Style Tea Beverage Exchange Competition, jointly organized with another summer social-practice team from Fujian Agriculture and Forestry University: the Pinghe Honey Pomelo Science and Technology Backyard Practice Team. During the competition, tradition met youthful creativity as we developed beverages combining Bai Ya Qilan tea with Pinghe's famous honey pomelo, the "golden fruit" that supports the local economy alongside tea.
My team blended orchid-scented Bai Ya Qilan tea with fresh pomelo juice, honey, and creamy milk foam. The result was balanced: fragrant yet refreshing, familiar yet novel. When I presented our creation to the judging panel, which included Professor Hao and tea-industry professionals, I gradually found my voice. Although my Chinese was hesitant and incomplete, my enthusiasm needed no translation.
The judges praised the "young perspective" reflected in our work and recognized the fresh ideas that young people could bring to the development of traditional tea products. To me, the competition became a metaphor for my own cross-cultural experience: blending my Nepali background with Chinese traditions, using AI as a bridge, and working with others to create something meaningful.
Beyond practical skills and academic knowledge, this journey offered me something more profound: a view of rural revitalization that respects both heritage and progress. In Pinghe, I saw local communities integrating tea and pomelo production into a path toward sustainable prosperity. Farmers adopted standardized production practices and digital traceability systems, while tea enterprises explored the integration of production, cultural experience, and rural tourism, creating more opportunities for local households.
This balance between the old and the new, and between the local and the global, resonated deeply with my Nepali sensibilities. In Nepal, we speak of "Sancho", a concept that, in my understanding and cultural experience, carries a sense of truth, well-being, peace, and harmony. Here in Pinghe, I found an echo of that idea.
The orderly tea gardens embodied the peace that comes from living in harmony with the land. The farmers' warm smiles, despite our language differences, expressed a shared humanity. The spirit of collaboration showed me that when people grow, make, and share tea together, they also create community.
Pinghe taught me that tea is far more than a beverage. It is a living archive of culture, a source of dignity and opportunity for rural communities, and a bridge connecting different peoples. In a quiet sip of Bai Ya Qilan tea, I tasted "Sancho": truth, well-being, peace, and harmony.
This was not a passive or distant form of peace, but an active harmony created among farmers and scientists, Nepal and China, tradition and technology. This journey became a pilgrimage to the heart of what makes us human: our ability to cultivate, to share, and to celebrate the simple gifts of life.
