无
论是纽约时报广场上播放的关于中国国家形象的广告片，还是白宫草坪上鸣放的21响礼炮，围绕胡锦涛访美的一切安排都旨在显示，中国已成为世界大国，中国领导人应当被视为平等的对手，而不是实力较弱的一方。相关报导
但如果中共领导人希望这些精心安排的画面能给中国国内观众留下深刻印象，并借此提高胡锦涛的声望，似乎他们是白忙活了一场，因为北京街道上很多中国普通百姓的反应形成了反差。
很多美国人对中国或将超过美国一事好像采取听天由命的态度，但很多中国人对于中国被吹捧为新晋超级大国深感不安。
中国领导人似乎决心在经济和军事两方面挑战美国，而与此同时很多中国国民对于中国的世界地位以及中国与美国的关系有着更为细致的看法。美国仍然是实力最强的世界强国。
Cathy Yan/The Wall Street Journal
在北京街头卖酸奶的刘文宏并不认为中国有那么强大或会构成威胁。
他说，我不觉得中国有那么强大或会构成威胁。他说自己没时间看报纸或电视关心胡锦涛访美。
刘文宏说，你们看到的只是中国的一个侧面，中国大部分地区还是贫穷的；我们都忙着自己的事，大多数中国人不关心国事。
刘文宏的个人经历就能很好地说明，自1979年中美建交以来，中国人对于中国、美国以及中美关系的看法发生了多么惊人的转变。
跟很多在1966年至1976年文化大革命期间上学的中国人一样，刘文宏还记得自己学到的是所有美国人都是"帝国主义者"，不过他承认自己当时并不知道这个词是什么意思。
但他清楚地记得毛泽东谴责美国是"纸老虎"，同样也记得邓小平1979年那次里程碑式的访美，期间邓小平戴上宽边牛仔帽的形象尽人皆知。
1979年前后，邓小平开始进行经济改革，放宽对中国经济的限制，并吸引了大量希望从全球最大的潜在市场上赚钱的美国投资者。
Agence France-Presse/Getty Images
中国报纸周四重点报导了胡锦涛访美。
不过，不久之后刘文宏以及数亿和他一样的中国农民就开始追求勤劳致富的梦想。
1985年他中学毕业后，开始卖服装。六年后，他转行做起了更赚钱的煤炭生意。
不过，像很多其他试图干个体的中国人一样，他美国式资本主义的经历并非都是好的。
部分受到《美国梦》(The American Dream)这本书中一个章节的启发，1996年他来到北京，将自己攒下来的约10万元人民币投入了中国股市。
他说，我当时想这是个多好的行当呀。两年后，亚洲卷入金融危机，美国投资者纷纷逃离，他赔了本。
他回到老家山西省，又开始做起了煤炭生意。这次他当起了中间人，大批量地买煤炭，试图转手赚钱。然后又爆发了2008年的全球金融危机。中国指责此次金融危机主要是由美国主导的金融体系造成的。
中国煤炭价格暴跌，刘文宏手中积压了约3,000吨煤炭。他想起看过的一个电视节目是关于美国这次危机的，然后突然意识到这会给他带来怎样的影响。
他说，开始时我想这永远不会和我沾上边，不过后来我意识到实际上它离我们有多近。他赔得一干二净，大约有人民币100万元。
2009年，刘文宏独自回到北京，从亲戚朋友那里借了人民币三万元，开始租酸奶摊卖起了酸奶。如今，他每天卖掉约200瓶酸奶，每年可以赚大约10万元。
如今，像很多中国人一样，他仍羡慕美国制度的很多方面。不过，他不再痴迷于此，有时候甚至会对他认为的美国对中国事务的干涉感到不快。
当问到他对美国的看法时，他说，我想到了两个词：民主和自由。不过，他随后又说，美国的胳膊伸得太长了。
他说，中国经济无疑在发展，不过他们说睡狮正在觉醒，对整个地区带来压力。我认为不是这样。
他有两个儿子，如果供得起的话，他希望把他们送到美国去上学。他的大儿子在上海的华东政法大学学法律。他说，我不在乎我的孩子选择永远呆在美国或者拿绿卡。
不过，即使加上他在省政府里做会计的妻子每年人民币三万元的工资，这仍是一个非常遥远的梦。
因此，像很多中国人一样，他并不关心中国经济是否已经超过了日本，或什么时候能够赶上美国。他只是希望在两三年内，能卖酸奶攒下足够的钱，开一家小小的山西小吃连锁店。
尽管他投资的经历像过山车一样几起几伏，他已经拿出一万元人民币又投入了股市。他说，只投一点儿。
Jeremy Page / Cathy Yan
（更新完成）
（本文版权归道琼斯公司所有，未经许可不得翻译或转载。）
From the advertisements on Times Square to the 21-gun salute on the White House lawn, everything about President Hu Jintao's visit has been designed to show that China has arrived as a major world power, and its leader deserves to be treated as an equal, not a junior partner.
China's state-controlled newspapers and television channels were duly dominated Thursday by images of Hu and U.S. President Barack Obama standing side by side at the welcoming ceremony, holding talks in the Oval Office, and giving a joint news conference before the world's media.
But if China's Communist leaders were hoping such carefully choreographed images would impress their domestic audience, and enhance Hu's stature, their efforts appeared to be in vain given the ambivalent reactions of many ordinary Chinese on the streets of Beijing.
(This story and related background material will be available on The Wall Street Journal Web site, WSJ.com).
For while many Americans appear resigned that China may overtake the U.S., many Chinese people are deeply uncomfortable about their country's newly feted status as an emerging superpower.
Even as China's leaders appear determined to challenge the U.S. economically and militarily, many Chinese citizens have a far-more nuanced view of their country's place in the world--and its relationship with what is still by far the dominant global power.
Few people better illustrate that ambivalence than Liu Wenhong, a bespectacled 45-year-old who has made and lost a small fortune twice over the past 20 years and now sells fresh natural yogurt for three yuan (less than 50 cents) a pot from a street-side stall in downtown Beijing.
'I don't think China is that powerful or a threat,' he said, adding that he hasn't had time to read a newspaper or watch a television report on Hu's visit.
'You're only seeing a quarter of China. The majority of China is still underdeveloped. We're all busy taking care about our own businesses. Most people aren't that concerned with the nation,' he said.
Liu's own experience is proof of how dramatically Chinese perceptions of their own country, of the U.S. and of the relationship between the two have altered since diplomatic ties were established in 1979.
Like many Chinese who went to school during the 1966-76 Cultural Revolution, he remembers being taught that all Americans were 'imperialists'--although he confesses he didn't know what the term meant at the time.
But as vividly as he remembers Mao Zedong denouncing the U.S. as a 'paper tiger,' he also recalls Deng Xiaoping's landmark visit to the U.S. in 1979, during which he famously donned a 10-gallon Stetson hat.
Around the same time, Deng unleashed the reforms that would unshackle the Chinese economy and attract a flood of American investors looking to profit from the world's biggest potential market.
The reforms meant that Liu's parents, who were farmers in the northern province of Shanxi, were given a plot of land to use as they liked, but it also meant they had to work much harder. 'That time was very bitter,' he said.
It wasn't long, however, before Liu--and hundreds of millions of Chinese like him--had started to pursue a Chinese version of the American dream.
He began by selling clothes after he graduated from high school in 1985, but six years later, he moved on to trading coal, which was far more profitable.
But as for many other Chinese who tried to make their way in the private sector, his experience of U.S.-style capitalism wasn't all positive.
Inspired partly by a chapter of a book called 'The American Dream,' he then moved to Beijing in 1996 and invested about 100,000 yuan that he had saved in the Chinese stock market.
'I thought this was such a good business,' he said. Two years later, he lost the lot when Asia was gripped by a financial crisis that sent U.S. investors scurrying.
He returned to his home province and began working in the coal business again, this time as a middleman, buying up huge quantities and trying to sell at a profit. Then came the global financial crisis of 2008--which China has blamed in large part on the U.S.-dominated financial system.
Coal prices plunged in China, and Liu was left with some 3,000 tons on his hand. He remembers watching a television program about the crisis in the U.S., when he suddenly realized how it would affect him.
'At first I didn't think that would ever have anything to do with me, but then I realized how close it really is,' he said. He lost everything he had--about CNY1 million.
In 2009, Liu returned to Beijing alone, borrowed CNY30,000 from friends and relatives, and began renting his yogurt stand. He now sells around 200 bottles a day, and makes a profit of about CNY100,000 a year.
Today, like many people in China, he still admires many aspects of the U.S. system. But he is no longer in its thrall, and is sometimes irked by what he perceives as U.S. interference in China's affairs.
'I think of two words: democracy and freedom,' he said when asked about the U.S. But then, he added: 'The U.S.'s arm is extended too far.'
'China's economy is certainly growing, but they say that the sleeping lion is waking and putting pressure on the entire region. I don't think that's the case,' he said.
He has two sons, the elder of whom is studying law at Huadong Zhengfa college in Shanghai, and would happily send them to the U.S. to study if he could afford it. 'I don't mind if my kids choose to live in the U.S. forever or become green-card holders,' he said.
But that is a distant dream even with his wife's salary of CNY30,000 a year as a provincial government accountant.
So like many of his countrymen, he isn't interested in whether China's economy has already overtaken that of Japan, or when it will catch up with the U.S. He just hopes that within two or three years, he can save enough of his yogurt profits to start a small chain store selling Shanxi snacks.
And despite his roller-coaster career as an investor, he has already taken CNY10,000 of his profits and put them back into the stock market. 'Just a little,' he says.
Jeremy Page / Cathy Yan
China's state-controlled newspapers and television channels were duly dominated Thursday by images of Hu and U.S. President Barack Obama standing side by side at the welcoming ceremony, holding talks in the Oval Office, and giving a joint news conference before the world's media.
But if China's Communist leaders were hoping such carefully choreographed images would impress their domestic audience, and enhance Hu's stature, their efforts appeared to be in vain given the ambivalent reactions of many ordinary Chinese on the streets of Beijing.
(This story and related background material will be available on The Wall Street Journal Web site, WSJ.com).
For while many Americans appear resigned that China may overtake the U.S., many Chinese people are deeply uncomfortable about their country's newly feted status as an emerging superpower.
Even as China's leaders appear determined to challenge the U.S. economically and militarily, many Chinese citizens have a far-more nuanced view of their country's place in the world--and its relationship with what is still by far the dominant global power.
Few people better illustrate that ambivalence than Liu Wenhong, a bespectacled 45-year-old who has made and lost a small fortune twice over the past 20 years and now sells fresh natural yogurt for three yuan (less than 50 cents) a pot from a street-side stall in downtown Beijing.
'I don't think China is that powerful or a threat,' he said, adding that he hasn't had time to read a newspaper or watch a television report on Hu's visit.
'You're only seeing a quarter of China. The majority of China is still underdeveloped. We're all busy taking care about our own businesses. Most people aren't that concerned with the nation,' he said.
Liu's own experience is proof of how dramatically Chinese perceptions of their own country, of the U.S. and of the relationship between the two have altered since diplomatic ties were established in 1979.
Like many Chinese who went to school during the 1966-76 Cultural Revolution, he remembers being taught that all Americans were 'imperialists'--although he confesses he didn't know what the term meant at the time.
But as vividly as he remembers Mao Zedong denouncing the U.S. as a 'paper tiger,' he also recalls Deng Xiaoping's landmark visit to the U.S. in 1979, during which he famously donned a 10-gallon Stetson hat.
Around the same time, Deng unleashed the reforms that would unshackle the Chinese economy and attract a flood of American investors looking to profit from the world's biggest potential market.
The reforms meant that Liu's parents, who were farmers in the northern province of Shanxi, were given a plot of land to use as they liked, but it also meant they had to work much harder. 'That time was very bitter,' he said.
It wasn't long, however, before Liu--and hundreds of millions of Chinese like him--had started to pursue a Chinese version of the American dream.
He began by selling clothes after he graduated from high school in 1985, but six years later, he moved on to trading coal, which was far more profitable.
But as for many other Chinese who tried to make their way in the private sector, his experience of U.S.-style capitalism wasn't all positive.
Inspired partly by a chapter of a book called 'The American Dream,' he then moved to Beijing in 1996 and invested about 100,000 yuan that he had saved in the Chinese stock market.
'I thought this was such a good business,' he said. Two years later, he lost the lot when Asia was gripped by a financial crisis that sent U.S. investors scurrying.
He returned to his home province and began working in the coal business again, this time as a middleman, buying up huge quantities and trying to sell at a profit. Then came the global financial crisis of 2008--which China has blamed in large part on the U.S.-dominated financial system.
Coal prices plunged in China, and Liu was left with some 3,000 tons on his hand. He remembers watching a television program about the crisis in the U.S., when he suddenly realized how it would affect him.
'At first I didn't think that would ever have anything to do with me, but then I realized how close it really is,' he said. He lost everything he had--about CNY1 million.
In 2009, Liu returned to Beijing alone, borrowed CNY30,000 from friends and relatives, and began renting his yogurt stand. He now sells around 200 bottles a day, and makes a profit of about CNY100,000 a year.
Today, like many people in China, he still admires many aspects of the U.S. system. But he is no longer in its thrall, and is sometimes irked by what he perceives as U.S. interference in China's affairs.
'I think of two words: democracy and freedom,' he said when asked about the U.S. But then, he added: 'The U.S.'s arm is extended too far.'
'China's economy is certainly growing, but they say that the sleeping lion is waking and putting pressure on the entire region. I don't think that's the case,' he said.
He has two sons, the elder of whom is studying law at Huadong Zhengfa college in Shanghai, and would happily send them to the U.S. to study if he could afford it. 'I don't mind if my kids choose to live in the U.S. forever or become green-card holders,' he said.
But that is a distant dream even with his wife's salary of CNY30,000 a year as a provincial government accountant.
So like many of his countrymen, he isn't interested in whether China's economy has already overtaken that of Japan, or when it will catch up with the U.S. He just hopes that within two or three years, he can save enough of his yogurt profits to start a small chain store selling Shanxi snacks.
And despite his roller-coaster career as an investor, he has already taken CNY10,000 of his profits and put them back into the stock market. 'Just a little,' he says.
Jeremy Page / Cathy Yan
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