Chinese hospitality

If I had to name one thing that the Chinese excel at, hospitality would be awfully close to the top of the list.  I hate to make generalizations, but on the whole, the Chinese know how to take care of guests.  If you ever travel to visit a friend, you can expect to have every detail and concern of your trip taken care of.  What may be viewed as excessive hand-holding by independent Americans can actually be quite wonderful when you’re traveling in an unfamiliar place.  There have been countless times when the generosity and care of Chinese friends have saved me from and gotten me out of many a bind.  However, American and Chinese ideas of hospitality are quite different.

This weekend, one of my former teammates was staying with me.  Michelle currently teaches in Beijing, but taught at our university for a year and a half in the past.  The purpose of her visit was to join in Jennifer’s birthday celebrations.  (Side note: If there’s one thing we know how to do well here, it’s throw a birthday party.  More on that later.)  Michelle was arriving into town Friday evening, and by the time I found out when she was getting in, I already had dinner plans with a couple students.  However, I knew that Michelle’s seven years of experience in China, and experience living here in this city meant that she could quite successfully make her own way to my apartment.  I sent her an email letting her know the door would be unlocked and to make herself at home.  Somehow during dinner with my students, though, I let it slip that I had a friend coming in that night.  Immediately the onslaught of questions came: how is she getting here?  what time does her train arrive?  don’t you need to be at the train station?  When I responded that she taught here before and would be OK getting to the campus, shocked looks were plastered on my students’ faces.  “Oh, OK.  But you need to make sure you’re back when she arrives, right?”  Now I was feeling quite guilty of the cardinal Chinese sin of un-hospitality.  Sheepishly I said, “She’s friends with many of the foreign teachers; they will be there to greet her.”  They half-heartedly accepted that answer, but also made sure not to keep me too long after dinner.

My chastisement was not complete though.  As I walked through the revolving doors of my building, I saw my doorman quickly rise to greet me.  He had a concerned look on his face, and he hurriedly said in Chinese, “Your guest is here!  You need to go fast!”  Giving up all hopes of explaining myself, I shamefully replied, “Ok, ok, I’m going fast.”  Sure enough, Michelle had barely been in my place for five minutes and was quite comfortably making herself at home.  Regardless, in the eyes of the Chinese, I’m a terrible host.