This is the first in a series of columns to continue
the dialogue between cultures.

When a Chinese family moved next to her a few years ago, Irma Phelps tried to introduce herself. "I knocked on their door but they didn't answer," says Phelps, who has lived on Dunbar Drive for 27 years. "I could hear they were inside, and the TV was on but they just wouldn't answer the door."

The Rev. Mary Blessing, associate rector of St. Jude's Episcopal Church, says two of her parishioners took a plate of cookies across the street to their new neighbor's house. The cookie-bearing couple was cultural-American;* the neighbors were immigrants. The well wishers were shocked to have the door shut in their face.

For many cultural-Americans, it's considered a gesture of welcome and friendship to visit a newcomer with a home-cooked dish. This practice has even become an American institution—the Welcome Wagon—a business that sends representatives to a newcomer's door with a basket full of samples and coupons from various local merchants.

According to Chihua Wei, a 20-year resident of Cupertino, immigrants don't understand this tradition, and lack of awareness of the situation from both sides inadvertently causes conflict without anyone even realizing it.

For many cultures, it is not customary to open the door to strangers.

And to further complicate the issue, immigrants often arrive in America with the view that it's a dangerous and violent place because of the news they've seen on TV back home, another reason to not open the door.

This idea of such out-going, open and friendly neighbors is not intrinsic to many societies and can be intimidating.

Wei says he encountered a culture here that embraces sharing and communication much more than the one in which he grew up. "Our educational system doesn't employ ways to express your opinion," he says.

He came to the United States in 1979 from Taiwan when he enrolled at UC­Santa Barbara as a graduate student. Once he began taking classes, he was befuddled by the openness of his professors and the students who contributed to the conversation.

And Wei remembers the anxiety he felt confronting the language barrier. "I didn't know if I could express my feelings without my English being ridiculed," Wei says.

He expected the ridicule because he says many foreign countries see Americans as wealthy racists. "The only way we know Westerners is through movies, and the Chinese characters often have braids and narrow eyes and a mustache, and they always speak broken English," he says. The depiction of these stereotypes intimidates immigrants who are already insecure about their language skills, especially when the Caucasian characters ridicule the Asian characters.

These conditions inspired Wei to stick with what was familiar—his own Chinese culture. "Once you're intimidated like that, you retreat into your own society because it's your comfort zone," he says. "We're supposed to melt into wherever we go, but we find a way to escape."

Wei found the need to branch beyond his comfort zone two years ago. His son is autistic, and in order to find services, he had to overcome his anxiety about operating in what he calls the "Caucasian society." The experience taught him that a liaison can make a difference.

He says taking someone along who speaks both languages when approaching newcomers will help with the newcomer's anxiety about mispronouncing English words, and provide something for the new neighbors to talk about.

Wei says many second-generation immigrants have been raised speaking both languages and can help translate.

He also recommends that English-speakers learn a few simple phrases in other languages to help break the ice.

"Chinese don't reach out, but they can be reached," Wei says. "You just have to find the right way to knock on the door."

And Bryn Oh, a cultural-American living on Creekline Drive, has found a way to knock on the door. She calls it her "door dance."

"When I first knock on a neighbor's door, some people only open a crack," says Oh, who has lived in Cupertino since the summer of 1999. "Then I tell them my name and where I live, explaining that I am not just a random person and am not asking anything from them. They open the door more and stand parallel to it. And as the conversation progresses, they open the door all the way and step out in front of the door to chat with me. Some even invite me to their living room."

Wei says once the Chinese immigrant knows you're not looking to sell something and won't be made to feel uncomfortable, "the door is open from then on."

He says the Chinese are very friendly, hospitable and love food. He recommends calling ahead and bringing over a dish to share, but maybe something a little familiar. "Cookies are very American," he says. "Try bringing over Peking roasted duck."

Irma Phelps, whose new neighbors would not answer the door, found she and the Chinese grandfather who lives there speak a universal language—gestures. "When he's outside in the front yard, I point to his flowers and say 'nice.' He knows what I mean. Now when he sees me, he waves at me before I wave to him."

*We are using the term 'cultural-American to describe those who have grown up in America and who are comfortable with American customs.

For help in finding a translator call Laura Lee at 408.777.3331.