The young man offered his place at the public computer in the Shanghai hotel’s business center. Thanking his deference to an elder, I asked, “How are you?” He stared into space and slowly, thoughtfully repeated, “How are you?” Satisfied he had recovered his uncertain English, he replied, “Twenty-two, thank you.” The young women clerks he was trying to impress giggled. I explained: I didn’t ask, How old are you? but “How are you?” You can answer, Fine, thank you. My wife appeared and spoke to him, “How are you?” His face lighted and he replied triumphantly, “Fine, thank you.”

I had gone to China fascinated with the culture I had observed from childhood in the Milwaukee Public Museum and in books ever since. I went eager to meet Chinese in their own country. Although we spent considerable time in several homes, schools, and factories, they approached us and even sought us out wherever we went. They were at least as eager to meet Americans as we were to meet them.

In a noodle factory in an obscure village near Fengu, I asked our guide to ask them why they think we have come. I wondered if they thought World War II was still on, because everywhere they flashed the V-for-victory hand sign as the proper way to greet Americans. The people told him they had no idea why we came and they didn’t care, because they just wanted to meet Americans. “They call you ‘the people with the big eyes and long noses,’” he reported.

At the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze a father motioned to me, and I took it he was asking that I move out of the way of a picture of him and his little girl. The photographer motioned to move into the picture. I put my arm around his shoulders and held the girl’s hand. I think he bowed about six times to thank me. He wanted his picture with an American — even me, whoever that might be.

At the Yao Shan Tea Garden a worker asked why in America people go to churches to have their weddings. He had seen this in American movies and television, which, sadly, is the source of most impressions. Others moved closer and pretended to be working, but they were clearly listening in. I sensed he had the impression most Americans go to cocktail parties every evening. When I told him I never go, he couldn’t believe he had so seriously misunderstood. He apologized. Trying to compensate, I told him about pot-lucks. This left him utterly puzzled.

At lunch in a Xi’an home, a university student was excited that three of us had taught in American colleges He was full of more questions about American colleges than an American student.

Our guide alerted us to the fact that Chinese are extremely anxious to impress America and Americans with the forthcoming Olympics. Indeed, several officials and representatives expressed this concern almost as the first thing they said. They asked if we would return for the games and assured us by then they would be ready. They hope we would be pleased with what we found when we returned. Would we at least watch the games on television? They hoped we wouldn’t be disappointed.

I never sensed any Chinese person eager that China would win medals and certainly not that China would defeat the Americans. They just want to be good hosts and impress with us their country and its people. They seem more impressed with us than we deserve, and this makes me nervous.

Even then, two years ago, I could see the government pushing its people around to make room for the Olympics. The people were accepting this as a matter of course. While obedience to authority is a characteristic of their culture. I could sense sincere and earnest willingness to do whatever required to host the Olympics and for the Olympics to be a success.

To my mind, the success of the 2008 Olympics will be if Americans present for the games will respect the Chinese and perform — and behave — in such a way the Chinese will be as glad to meet them as they seemed to be to meet us.

ry