When Chinese offer tea to visitors, it's never a hasty Lipton teabag affair. Chinese tea is an art - but one I've had to learn to appreciate.
I'm used to guzzling coffee from giant mugs or German steins, and soda from a 32 oz (907.2 grams) glass. So sipping tea from a cup that is no bigger than a thimble takes some getting used to.
Even the teapot is so small that I could down the contents in one gulp. Chinese tea sets remind me of the toy kitchen sets my sister played with when she was five years old.
But gradually my taste buds have come to appreciate the art of Chinese tea, and the casual conversations with friends as we perch on bamboo stools and sip Oolong from our cups.
Drinking tea is as much an art as preparing it, and Chinese are always willing to do both - no matter what the circumstances.
I dropped in unannounced on the MBA dean one evening. He promptly served up Anxi tea in thimble cups and we chatted for two hours, as if he had all the time in the world.
The next day I learned from his secretary that he'd had to stay up the entire night finishing urgent reports - yet he never even hinted that I'd been interrupting.
Surely nothing compares with Chinese hospitality. But...their ceremonial "offer-decline three times" custom can be frustrating for foreigners.
Protocol requires that Chinese must offer tea three or four times, and guests must decline twice or three times with an humble, "Bu yao mafan ni" (I don't want to trouble you).
So when I invited MBA students to our home, I warned them: "Foreigners are frank. If I offer you tea and you want it, say yes 'because I won't grow old repeating the offer!"
A few days later, my 32 students climbed the 105 steps to our hilltop apartment. Sweaty and gasping for breath, they sprawled on chairs.
"Would you like some tea?" I asked. "Oh, no!" came the chorus. "We don't want to trouble you!" Even though my steaming teapot was right in front of their noses!
"Are you sure?" I asked again. "No, too much trouble," they repeated, though hesitantly.
"Ok," I said. And I shattered protocol and set Sino-American relations back a century by ignoring the obligatory 3rd and 4th requests. They watched in horror as I, with exaggerated contentment, sipped a cup of steaming tea.
But I relented half an hour later and asked once more. "Are you sure you don't want tea? Raise your hands if you do." Hands shot up everywhere. Some even raised two hands, as if they were being robbed. "Help yourself!" I said, and they unceremoniously raced for the teapot.
The following Friday night, a chorus of laughing MBA students showed up on our doorstep and shouted, "Hi Professor. Where's the tea?"
William Brown is an American who has lived in Xiamen since 1988. In 1992 he became Fujian's first foreigner to get permanent residence.
(China Daily HK Edition July 26, 2002)
