We’re just into the first few days of the year of the sheep (or is that goat or ram?), and let me tell you — I am just completely exhausted. It was already a marathon leading up to Chinese New Year’s Eve, where I rushed to finish a paid project before the holiday. And it hasn’t stopped even during the holiday — except now it’s a marathon of visiting relatives (bainian) during the day!
Still, despite the fact that I’m still catching up on sleep (and, for that matter, my e-mail inbox — apologies to anyone who hasn’t heard from me in a while), I’m actually having a really great time, more than I ever expected. (Of course, it doesn’t hurt that folks here usually speak in local dialect, which means I still don’t always understand when they’re saying, say, “Have kids soon!”)
In lieu of my usual posts on Monday, I’m sending you my warmest wishes for an auspicious year of the sheep through this photo essay! Here’s hoping you have a fabulous year!
The little red VW polo we drove to my husband’s hometown (which was also my first time ever driving in China)My husband John and his brother pay respects to a camphor tree that watches over the family.We also visiting the local temple (in the background) to pray to the Jade Emperor for an auspicious new year.Hanging out with John’s grandmother at the front door of the family house.First selfie ever with John’s grandmother! (We all bust up laughing at how funny we all looked together in this.)John and I took this fun selfie with the family while dining on the most important (and delicious!) meal of the year.We visited relatives in the village, including John’s grandma (who enjoyed my foot bath and foot massage).On new years day, we found this lovely tree with pink plum blossoms.
The other night, I suddenly burst out in tears over what might probably be the silliest of all things – the fact that Chinese New Year was fast approaching, and I was really afraid of spending it with the family.
It sounds ridiculous to admit that I was sobbing in my bed over another holiday with the family, but it’s true. And it was all triggered by an equally ridiculous thing – that none of my husband’s friends could lend us their extra cars.
We knew we weren’t in a position to rent a car to drive home for the holiday, but John and I had talked about borrowing one of his friends’ cars for a while. The only problem? We waited too long to ask for that second car – and of his friends who had an extra vehicle, all of them had been promised away to someone else.
As frivolous as it sounds, I had secretly daydreamed about driving back to the family home in a car. I often imagined myself, the sunshine beating down upon me like a spotlight as I stepped out of an actual automobile in front of the family – how great it would feel for them to see us driving home to the house (instead of taking the two buses we’d normally have to brave to make the trip back).
Deep down, I know it was all about face, our own mianzi. That I thought if only we had a car – even if it was a borrowed one – it would somehow make up for everything else about our lives that seems totally imperfect or open to family criticism. Like how we don’t have kids (and everyone keeps bugging us about it). Or how we don’t own an apartment or a car (unlike all of John’s relatives his own age). Or even the fact that we live in a tiny apartment. Having a car would somehow prove our “worthiness” before everyone else in the family.
Well, without the “armor” of a borrowed car at our disposal, all of my fears came pouring out, along my tears. That everyone will notice how not much has changed for us over the year of the horse. That they might think we’re failures.
The problem of “what will others think?” has weighed upon me for much of my life. I’m a recovering perfectionist, exacerbated by the fact that I’m also incredibly sensitive. The old saying goes, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me” – and yet for most of my life, I’ve taken to heart time and time again what other people say about me. Even though I should have known better.
Meanwhile, Chinese New Year is one of those times when it seems like everyone in the family makes it their business to tell you what they think about your life – whether it’s your marital status, whether you have kids, or even your own possessions. And even when people don’t say anything, sometimes just being the one who “sticks out” of the crowd – like, say, the only thirty-something couple in the family that doesn’t have a home, car, lots of money, and kids – can make you feel truly like the odd one out. As if you don’t belong (and, perhaps, never will).
Hence, all of my fears about heading home. And my crazy thinking that, somehow, having a car might make us “look better” in the eyes of everyone else.
I’d be lying if I told you I’m somehow over “what other people think,” because I’m not. I think it’s the biggest struggle of my entire life. It’s one I fight on a daily basis. Sometimes, it’s even the reason I can’t fall asleep right away; there are nights when I must whisper the mantra, “You are good enough just as you are,” over and over again, just like my mother used to whisper to me as a child when I couldn’t sleep.
Facing my family at Chinese New Year is like being tossed into my own personal three-ring circus of “what will other people think?” Specifically, people who I love and care about very much, which makes it even harder.
Yet, in another sense, I also realize that facing my worst fear – what others who love me will think – could also be my salvation. That sometimes, you have to face the darkness and plunge right into it, instead of just running away (which tends to be my knee-jerk reaction to things I am afraid of).
That instead of hiding behind someone’s borrowed car in order to feel worthy, I can feel worthy right now, exactly as I am. And not because someone else – or, especially, someone in the family – told me so.
So in a few days, John and I will walk our way over to one of Hangzhou’s bus stations and board the first of two buses to make our way back to his hometown. I don’t know what my Chinese family will say about us this holiday season. But for the first time in a long time, I’m going to try out something new – listening less to their criticism, and more to my own heart (which I’m certain that deep down inside already knows I’m good enough).
Have you ever been afraid of what other people — family or otherwise — might think of you? How do you manager your own “demons”?
P.S.: When I first drafted this post, it seemed my husband and I had no possibility of borrowing a car to head home. Then a miracle happened — when my husband happened to call a forgotten old classmate, she offered us her extra car. Still, that car won’t change my perspective; I’m still planning on listening to my heart!
When I was growing up, my parents took me to one of these tourism fairs in Cleveland, Ohio, which introduced me to a slogan I just couldn’t understand: Virginia is for lovers. I’d been to the state of Virginia. The Blue Ridge Mountains were pretty enough, and so were the beaches. But to say that this state was for lovers? It didn’t seem right to me.
In hindsight, my hesitation could have had another explanation. That I was destined to discover and eventually settle in a city that, in my mind, truly was for lovers (and truly deserved such a slogan). Hangzhou, China!
Yes, Hangzhou really is the ideal place for people in love. And if you’ve never visited before, here are four reasons why it could be the perfect place to spend your Valentine’s Day – or, for that matter, any romantic holiday or getaway:
1. It’s the setting of one of the greatest love stories in Chinese history (The White Snake or 白蛇传)
For John and me, visiting Leifeng Pagoda was like paying homage to one of China’s greatest love stories.
The forbidden love story of the Madame White Snake – a magical snake who turns into a lovely young woman and captures the heart of Xu Xian – is considered one of China’s most beloved folktales. And it all happened right here in beautiful Hangzhou (supposedly, at least!).
You could bring your own sweetheart here to have your own personal re-enactment of Madame White Snake.
Why not flirt at the Broken Bridge (断桥) on Bai Causeway, where the white snake and Xu Xian first fell in love? You could also buy yourselves a little tang hulu there just as Xu Xian did, the sweet and tart candied fruits on a stick that first entwined Xu Xian’s fate together with the white snake in the story.
On the opposite side of the lake, climb to the top of the reconstructed Leifeng Pagoda, where the white snake was imprisoned for loving and marrying Xu Xian. As you and your lover admire the view from the top – the glistening surface of the lake fringed by the endless emerald gardens – you can feel grateful that you’re both free to love one another in that moment.
2. The West Lake is the perfect place for lovers to stroll and relax
Trust me, come to the West Lake and even you won’t be able to resist kissing your loved one!
Hangzhou’s West Lake has been famous for thousands of years and inspired countless works of art, poems and even replicas of the lake itself (including Kunming Lake at Beijing’s Summer Palace). It’s a breathtaking destination – and, not surprisingly, one with many perfect places for lovers to stroll and relax.
One of the easiest – and most low cost – ways for couples to bask in the beauty of the West Lake is through a stroll around one of the many gardens surrounding the West Lake. My favorite romantic spots include Orioles Singing in the Willows (柳浪聞鶯) and Curved Yard and Lotus Pool in Summer (曲院風荷) during the daytime, as well as Su Causeway itself (either early in the morning or late at night).
You can also hire boats to glide across the lake and get away from the crowds; it’s most picturesque just a little before sunset.
In the Beishan area and Curved Yard and Lotus Pool in Summer (曲院風荷), lighting makes the gardens bloom with stunning shades of salmon pink, cerulean blue and jade green – colors as brilliant as the love in your own heart.
Even the city lights take on a romantic glow when viewed from Su Causeway.
And of course, if the moment is just right, you might find yourself settling into one of the many benches around the lake to share a kiss, just as John and I once did years ago.
3. There’s nothing sexier than a private tea for two in a Hangzhou teahouse
A teahouse spread fit for a king…or even just a couple of people really crazy in love!
As much as I love my soy lattes from Starbucks, that coffeehouse – or really, any coffeehouse for that matter – has nothing on some of the best Hangzhou teahouses. Picture slipping behind a sliding tatami door into the private decadence of a tea for two, from the aromatic delights of Hangzhou’s famous Dragonwell tea to an exquisite spread of all-you-can-eat snacks, hot food and even dessert. Some private rooms even allow you to sit on the floor, making the whole atmosphere that much more romantic.
Best of all, the unhurried pace of a teahouse – where the servers are simply there to serve instead of herding you in and out – means you can linger over the meal, taking your time to savor the moment together…and perhaps steal a kiss or two behind closed doors.
While there are many teahouses in Hangzhou, I highly recommend Qingteng Teahouse (青藤茶楼), especially the branch in the Wyndham Hotel which offers private rooms and unforgettably delectable set meals – the perfect combination for any pair of lovers.
4. You can enjoy flowers every season of the year
From red roses on Valentine’s Day to bridal bouquets, flowers have long been synonymous with love and romance. But flowers are best enjoyed in the outdoors – and what better place to appreciate them than Hangzhou, where the flowers enchant us every season of the year.
In wintertime, you’ll find plum blossoms beside the West Lake, reminding us all that even in harsh conditions, the most delicate beauty can flourish and prevail.
It’s pretty amazing that the plum blossoms come out even in the cold of winter!
You know it’s spring when sweet white peach blossoms surround the West Lake like a dusting of late-season snow in the treetops.
Peach blossoms by the West Lake (Photo via hzxcnews.com)
Summertime welcomes the lotus blossoms in the West Lake, each as pink as a blushing bride, a jewel to behold.
Even though the summers can be unbearably hot, knowing that the lotus blossoms will come out gives me something to look forward to.
But best of all is the osmanthus bloom, the smallest and most intoxicating of all with an aroma that might just be the closest thing to passionate young love in a fragrance.
These flowers are tiny, but their fragrance packs quite the punch. Seriously!
Do you think Hangzhou is a romantic destination? Why or why not?
When you live a lot of your life online like I do, it’s easy to make things look perfect. Like, for instance, Chinese New Year. Last year I spent much of the run-up to the holiday posting eye-catching photos of Chinese New Year – from shots of mouth-watering homemade goodies from my mother-in-law’s kitchen to handwritten red couplets shining in the winter sunshine.
But here’s the thing – it’s not all perfect or fun when you actually spend Chinese New Year with the family here. Sometimes, it’s even nerve-wracking. So in the spirit of being totally honest about Chinese New Year, here are 4 things that actually make me anxious about spending this year’s holiday with family here in China:
1. Firecrackers and fireworks
Confession time – I’m a jumpy person. If you startle or scare me (like, sneaking up on me all of a sudden), I will literally jump!
That’s why I’m not exactly the biggest fan of two of the biggest symbols of Chinese New Year: firecrackers and fireworks.
Whenever the family sets them off at our house, it’s like they’ve kicked me into a war zone. I head for the safest corner of the house to duck down and cover my ears, praying it will all be over soon.
Of course, it doesn’t help that every Chinese New Year generates a frightening bunch of tabloid-worthy news stories about tragic accidents (including deaths) caused by firecrackers and fireworks, making me even more nervous whenever I hear that great “boom” outside.
If only my husband’s family would go for those electronic firecrackers that I heard about on the news in China last year – they have a prerecorded “boom” but none of that destructive or dangerous force.
But I know better — they’re traditionalists to the core when it comes to their choice of explosives. Which means I’ll have to prepare myself for another year of explosions outside the door – and another year of me nervously crouching in the corner of the house…with my ears plugged.
The other night, while talking to our close Chinese friend Caroline during Chinese New Year, my husband asked a common question. “Did you go out to bàinián?” Bàinián (拜年), of course, is the tradition of paying new year’s calls to your relatives and friends, usually by going over to their homes.
Caroline laughed with embarrassment. “I didn’t want to go out, I’ve stayed at home. People ask too many questions!”
That’s because Caroline still hasn’t, as they say in Chinese, “solved her personal problem”. She’s a single Chinese woman in her thirties. And because she’s single and well above 30, a sort of unofficial marriage expiration date for young people in China (especially women), her relatives will ask her the bomb of all questions: “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Caroline’s not alone in detesting the questions about her personal life. After all, one of the hottest topics trending on Chinese social media in the lead to Chinese New Year was Counter Annoying Chinese New Year Questions From Relatives.
Even I’m not immune to such questioning. John and I still have no children, which makes the questions “Do you have a kid?” or “Are you planning to have a kid soon?” — questions I frequently get from Chinese friends and relatives — sting at times. Of course, my mother-in-law doesn’t even bother to ask us; she just simply tells me I’m “too old,” which does wonders for my self-esteem! (Not.)
So, since we still don’t have a kid, guess what I’m expecting to hear from the relatives this Chinese New Year? Yep. And I’m definitely not thrilled.
It’s really scary when alcohol gets co-opted in China to measure things like filial piety or loyalty. Some of the biggest bullies often end up being some of your closest friends or relatives.
Big tobacco must love how China’s culture has successfully linked cigarette smoking to masculinity, guaranteeing that pretty much every family in the country includes smokers.
But I’m a rabid nonsmoker who finds secondhand smoke repulsive, so having smokers in my family here in China is another thing to worry about during the holidays.
Last year, it was almost impossible to find a dinner table where someone wasn’t lighting up. I experienced some uncomfortable conversations about smoking and often had to steal away from the dinner table because my lungs just couldn’t take it.
I’m expecting another round of “dodge the secondhand smoke” this year – and it’s definitely not going to be the highlight of my holidays. Ugh.
What worries you about spending the holidays with your family?
Bringing family together for the holidays is bound to produce a few awkward experiences – including when it’s your family spending Chinese New Year. Here are four I’ve had that have stayed with me over the years (making me wonder what’s in store this Chinese New Year!):
1. Family pressure to have a baby at the most important dinner of the year
Last year, just as we sat down to nianye fan (Chinese New Year’s eve dinner – the most important feast of the year), one of John’s brothers turned to me and said, “Next year, we’ll have a new person around the table, right?” The meaning wasn’t lost on me – that, obviously, he expected us to get pregnant and have a baby in the year of the horse.
Not exactly the kind of thing you like to hear when you know that’s not going to happen. (We just can’t have kids right now for personal reasons.)
My face completely flushed red as everyone around the table looked at me, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was one of those moments where time nearly ground to a halt – an incredibly awkward one, to say the least.
Fortunately, everyone soon started eating. Thank god Chinese New Year’s Eve dinner was so distracting! (And delicious!)
2. Seeing a relative so drunk he was practically unconscious and covered in vomit
This is the lunch where it all started.
This wasn’t just awkward – it was dangerous.
On the second day of the Chinese New Year, our family invited over some relatives for a loud and raucous lunch where the alcohol flowed quite freely. A little too freely, in fact.
The main culprits were a mob of older male relatives in the dining room pressuring the younger guys to drink as a sign of respect to them. It became a neverending request, where one shot glass of high proof baijiu led to another and another and another.
I never cared for boisterous and drunken family meals, so I had positioned myself on a chair outside, chatting with some of the women in the family.
An hour or so later, my husband discovered one of his cousins had gotten so sloppy drunk that he hid himself in the shed behind the family’s beehive. When John finally carried him out of the shed and plunked him into a bamboo chair, he looked almost unconscious – and then puked all over his shirt.
I swear, the baijiu on his breath mingled with the stench of vomit has forever been etched into my memory. (And, I will never, ever, sit in that bamboo chair.)
Later, family members sent him to the hospital, where they pumped his stomach and revived him. Fortunately, he didn’t consume enough to threaten his life.
But those moments when his almost comatose self, reeking of alcohol and puke, were seated right across from me rank as some of the most awkward and frightening ones I’ve experienced during the holidays.
3. Using a chamber pot in the bedroom while having my period
The family chamber pot looked something like this.（Photo via http://www.budou.com/detail/6/6242577.html)
Well, it’s one thing to manage your “monthly gift” when you’re in your own apartment – and another thing entirely to deal with it in a home where the only flush toilet is downstairs and too far from your bedroom to use at night.
Enter in the family’s chamber pot (it resembled a bucket, complete with its own lid). Yes, folks, that’s what I had to use one year when nature called and it was late at night. I’ll spare you all of the really gross details, but suffice to say it felt awkward trying to squat over a bucket AND manage the messy side of being “on the rag” at the same time.
(Thank goodness our suite at the family home now has a modern bathroom with a real flush toilet!)
4. Calling John’s parents to tell them we were stuck on a mountain after dark
John and I were so thrilled we made it to the top — never realizing we nearly ended up trapped on the mountain after dark.
Last year, we had an unseasonably warm start to the year of the horse – so much so that the glorious sunshine on the second day of the new year beckoned John and I outside for a walk. We didn’t actually intend to climb the mountain but the beautiful weather spurred us on – and besides, we had always wanted to make it to the top. We lucked out on finding a path that brought us close to the summit and couldn’t resist clawing our way through the brush and bushes until we made it. Woo-hoo!
Well, that euphoria lasted right up until the path we chose down the mountain petered out until we were trapped in a minefield of thorny vines as the sun was just disappearing behind the mountains. There we were, trapped on a mountain at dark with no idea exactly how to make it down and not a flashlight in sight.
We did, however, have our mobile phone – thus came the awkward call sometime around 6:30pm or so, announcing what was surely my mother-in-law’s worst nightmare. (She never did care for us gallivanting around the mountains in the village).
Fortunately, we did eventually make it down the mountain – slowly and step-by-step as we held hands the entire way for safety. It was one of the craziest things we’ve ever done and we suffered some nasty looks from John’s family (including his eldest brother, who gave us the silent treatment as proof of his extreme anger at us for getting lost). Not fun.
What awkward experiences have you had during the holidays?
I wrote last week about how marriage changes you – especially when you’re in an international or cross-cultural relationship — and shared 4 habits I’ve learned from my Chinese husband. But I’m not the only one who has picked up a few new habits from my foreign spouse.
What has my husband learned from his white American wife after over 10 years of marriage? Here are 5 examples of his new habits (my personal favorites!):
In the first month or so when I was dating John, I totally stressed over a small – but to me, not unimportant – thing. Here was this guy who had moved in with me and taken care of me in so many ways, far beyond anyone else I had ever met. And yet, he hadn’t really told me those three simple words: “I love you”.
Eventually, he did say it to me when we were standing on a mountaintop (and I was in ridiculous tears about it all). He really seemed to understand, beyond all of my expectations. He even told me it wasn’t silly at all for me to ask him if he could tell me I loved him (which is how it all started).
Anyhow, that was the first time when he learned just how much those three little words meant to me. So much that I showered him with “I love you” in all the usual ways couples in America do. At the end of phone conversations and e-mails, in text messages, when I kissed him and told him good night. Gradually, the idea that his girlfriend, and later, wife, liked hearing it turned “I love you” into a regular and frequent thing from John’s lips.
“You’ve never had chocolate before?” It was early in my relationship with John when I learned the shocking truth. He had never tasted this most ambrosial of all sweets.
So before Christmas, I bought a generous package of Dove dark chocolates and stuffed them into a stocking I prepared for John. Never did I realize that the moment he popped one of them in his mouth, he had found his second true love in life (the first, of course, being me!).
In that moment, a chocoholic was born. (It’s ironic that it happened with a guy who recalls eating carrots as a child to satisfy his sweet tooth).
My parents, of course, only indulged the habit when we moved to America, plying my husband with the stuff at pretty much every holiday.
So you can guess what was under our tree this past Christmas – and whose eyes sparkled the brightest when that dark, delicious goodness was unwrapped from its foil. Mmmm.
3. Drinking coffee
Yes, my husband loves Starbucks — and I’m responsible!
It all started when John and I were living with my parents after moving to America. John is the kind of guy who needs hefty servings of caffeine to get through the day. In China, he always got his fix from black teas or oolong teas (the nice loose leaf varieties that he introduced to me). But my parents don’t do loose leaf tea and, as you can imagine, he never particularly liked anything that came in a teabag.
What my parents did have, however, was coffee. Lots of coffee. They had a brand-new coffeemaker, their own coffee bean grinder, and a tantalizing selection of fine blends, from Sumatran to Italian Roast. “Hey, do you want to try some coffee, John?” my dad asked him one day. So when in America, John figured, do as the Americans (or in this case, his wife’s American parents) do.
He took that first tentative sip, followed by a contented “Ahhhhh!” Not long after, the caffeine kicked in (strong!) and he knew he had solved his caffeine problem in America for good.
He’s been a pretty steady coffee drinker ever since and, after discovering the bold and rich flavor of Starbucks’ Sumatran brand, still swears by Starbucks coffee (and savors the occasional soy latte from our local branch).
Sometimes I can’t believe how much coffee – or, for that matter, caffeine – my husband drinks! He may be shorter than me, but he stands head and shoulders above me when it comes to his caffeine tolerance.
4. Silly dancing in the privacy of our home
Beneath my husband’s calm exterior is a man with some serious moves — a man who can truly dance in silly ways when people aren’t looking.
The other day, I was playing some upbeat tunes on my phone – you know, the kind of music that’s so fun you can’t help but swing your hips to it. All of a sudden, my husband got up out of his chair, started mimicking the tune (off-key!) and then turned around to shake his butt. He laughed (because he knows how hilarious he looks when he does this) and I couldn’t help but return the laughter…all the while knowing that I had a hand in much of this.
John didn’t grow up spontaneously jumping up and dancing to a great tune. And I’ve spent enough time in his family home to know that his parents and relatives don’t really do this either. But it’s the kind of thing I do all the time when I’m inspired to move by a great tune.
I can’t remember exactly when I first did this in front of him, but I’m certain he was the one laughing at me (and perhaps wondering what in the heck I was doing). But after years of being together – and even watching all of those American movies where other people would bop to a beat at the spur of the moment – he realized it was a part of who I was. And learned that it could be fun too.
So every time he shakes his butt to a tune (and giggles about it), I can’t help but giggle along with him, knowing that he’s embraced something that’s a part of me.
5. Using a heated mattress pad to stay warm in bed
“Electricblanket” by Original uploader was Limetolime at en.wikipedia – Transferred from en.wikipedia; transferred to Commons by User:Khayman using CommonsHelper.. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Electricblanket.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Electricblanket.jpg
The first time I ever stayed at John’s family home years ago, his mother handed me only one thick comforter to make it through the winter’s night in their drafty, unheated house. Being used to lots of covers on my bed and a warm heating vent somewhere near the floor, it was such a shock to my body that I caught quite the cold before leaving.
At the time, John, my then boyfriend and now husband, was stunned. I can’t remember his exact words, but they went something along the lines of, “You weren’t warm enough?”
Growing up, he and his family never used more than a comforter on their beds to sleep through the winter. And of course, they never, ever thought of using things like a heated electric mattress pad to stay warm and cozy.
You can imagine, then, that John and I struggled for a period of time when it came to sharing a bed together – with me trying to pile on the covers (and anything else to help stay warm) and him complaining he felt too hot.
Well, we eventually moved to America for a time and during our first Christmas there, my parents gave us an electric blanket. When we brought the electric blanket home, John surprised me by letting me plug it in for the night. And then he further surprised me when, after crawling into bed (a nice, toasty warm bed like nothing before), he couldn’t stop smiling and telling me how great it was.
The last thing I ever expected was for the one-comforter guy to suddenly love electric blankets.
We’ve since owned electric blankets and electric mattress pads, and he’s become a huge fan. How huge? Whenever he slides under the covers of our own bed – heated by a electric mattress pad – he always laughs with delight over how nice it is to have a “snug bed.”
This round of funding will go towards the costs of printing their First Edition, which features stories from people of mixed racial, ethnic and/or cultural backgrounds (including Susan Blumberg-Kason’s Chinese Jewish American son). Anything money raised above and beyond their goal will go towards the next editions of their magazine (the Second Edition will include one of my essays!)
P.S.: Their Second Edition highlighting cross-cultural and interracial relationships is still seeking submissions. If you’d like to contribute an essay, creative writing or art to this worthy publication, visit the Fused Society submissions page to learn more.
Everyone always say marriage changes you. Well, when you marry someone from another culture and country – like I have – you’re bound to change in ways you never would have expected growing up, picking up some of your foreign spouse’s new habits.
What habits have I learned from living all these years with John, my Chinese husband? Here are four of my favorites:
Some of my fondest childhood memories include watching my mother bob her teabag up and down in her cup before taking a sip. She introduced me to Orange Pekoe, Earl Grey, chamomile, peppermint and many other fine brews, the tea leaves or herbal blends always neatly wrapped in permeable bags. After all, who would want stray leaves floating around in your a teacup?
Or so I thought, until I arrived in China.
I’ll never forget the first time someone thrust a paper cup of hot steaming tea into my hands, the tea leaves drifting around without a single thing to keep them in place. I stared awkwardly at it, wondering how in the world I was going to drink without swallowing a leaf or having one end up plastered to my front teeth. Could anyone enjoy a cup of tea this way?
Years later, when John moved into my heart and life, he brought along his joy of drinking loose-leaf green tea. You might say it’s in his DNA – he is, after all, from Hangzhou, an area renowned for its world-famous Dragonwell. He never had a filter stand between him and his green tea leaves, and loved it. And, ultimately, he’s the one who helped me learn how to navigate a hot cup of the brew with loose leaves. (It’s a must-have skill in China, where people are always welcoming me with hot cups of loose-leaf tea everywhere I go!)
Now, his habits for drinking green tea (letting the tea sit a few minutes so the leaves begin falling to the bottom, blowing on the surface before taking a sip to keep the leaves away from your lips) have become a daily morning ritual for me. And a real pleasure, because the finest of these teas have complex, nuanced flavors that probably you’ll never enjoy from anything in a teabag.
Using toilet seat covers
It was early in my relationship with John and we were out shopping in Watson’s, a health and beauty care store that’s so ultra-feminine I swear it repels men with its teal signage and bright pink tags all over the store. John came along with me because it was a weekend and shopping together was one of those things we liked to do (even if it meant bringing John into a store he wouldn’t normally visit without me).
So there I was, going through my long list of Watson’s must-haves (including their luxurious papaya-scented body creams), expecting John to just tag along for the ride, when the sight of one simple product made his eyes shine like two silvery 1 yuan coins.
Toilet seat covers.
“We need one of these,” he said. And he was all serious about it, sifting through the packages and many color options (most of them, admittedly, in pastels like baby blue and powder pink).
I was totally stunned. My family never used fabric toilet seat covers, and the few times I actually saw them (usually in an elderly woman’s home, along with lots of other cutesy décor) made me believe that guys usually ran screaming from the idea of putting one on your toilet.
What I didn’t realize, however, was that John had an incredibly smart reason for buying one – to protect our behinds from the shock an extremely cold toilet seat in the cold. After all, we didn’t have heat in our apartment (like most people in China who live South of the Yangtze River), which did actually make the toilet seat pretty frigid (especially at night).
Admittedly, he was also trying to be a gentleman in suggesting a toilet seat cover. Maybe it’s not a typical Hallmark moment, but worrying about your girlfriend’s butt getting too cold when she pees at night is one way to say “I love you” (albeit an unusual one).
So we bought one (in a pastel color – they were all pastels, so what can you do?) and later that night when nature called, that little piece of fabric between the cold seat and my behind made a big difference. I was hooked.
We’ve been buying toilet seat covers here in China ever since, to the point that now I’m the one reminding him we need one!
Of course, last time we shopped for toilet seat covers, John couldn’t help being the gentleman. He refused my suggestion choose the cheaper brand and instead told me to buy the one with the velvety cushion (pictured above). “It’s more comfortable for your butt,” he said. (Nothing but the best for his wife, right down to her behind! 😉 )
Having soup with fried rice
(photo by cm2003 from http://www.dianping.com/photos/3551102/tag)
Fried rice always struck me as a perfect meal in itself. Who needs anything else?
Or so I thought, until I met John. I’ll never forget that first time I prepared fried rice for him, when he requested a very specific thing on the side. A bowl of soup.
“Why do we need soup?” I was so tired and desperately hungry that evening, the last thing I wanted to do was fix something else in the kitchen.
“Because fried rice is too dry.”
It never before occurred to me that fried rice could be considered dry. That a side of soup might just balance out the meal in a way I never imagined.
That night, I dug out some instant soup from the cabinet and John was all smiles. Over the years, I kept serving it every time fried rice was on the menu, always to please John. Never did I think that, in the end, I’d come to think that fried rice and soup was one of the best combinations ever.
That’s why, last time we had fried rice for dinner, I was already pulling out the soup before the meal even hit the table. There’s something about the flavor of a nice hot soup (especially miso) that makes fried rice even more delicious.
Wearing slippers inside the house
When I was growing up in America, we weren’t super-strict about taking our shoes off at the door. I often wandered upstairs still wearing my flats or sneakers and we almost never asked our guests to remove their shoes either (unless it was wintertime, where everybody’s boots were caked in wet snow). And when we weren’t wearing shoes, we opted for socks or went barefoot. In fact, I didn’t really use slippers much until I went off to college, and even then they were just your standard flip-flops for showering in the bathroom down the hall.
All that has changed since I married John. He’s from China and, like most people here, grew up with the habit of removing his shoes at the door and changing into a pair of indoor slippers or flip-flops. He likes this, because it keeps the outside dirt from coming into the house – a perfectly reasonable thing to do. (This, off course, makes me cringe a little when I think about all of the dirt I must have tracked around my family home!)
So now I’m an indoor slipper girl who owns multiple pairs of them. Soft, fuzzy slippers with woolen linings for the wintertime, and airy plastic flip-flops for showering and bumming around the house for the rest of the year.
Removing my shoes at the door has practically become second nature to me; I don’t even think about it and I never, ever ask, “Should I remove my shoes?” (which I used to do in America).
I’ve also become strangely adept at landing my feet perfectly into my slippers whenever I get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Don’t ask me how I know exactly where they are – call it slipper intuition. 😉
What habits have you learned from your husband/wife or boyfriend/girlfriend?
One fall, after returning from a summer spent living with my in-laws in China, I took out my digital photo album to show my American friends what their home was like.
There was the kitchen in their home, with soot-stained walls from years of burning wood to fire their huge wok. There was this shot of their doorway, fringed by red couplets that faded in the sunlight as well as a random motorcycle and piles of tools, pails and rope in the corner. And then there was the foyer, with a pile of black knitted hats dumped all over the unfinished concrete flooring – the same flooring used in almost every room in their house.
I assumed my friends would be curious and even a little surprised by what they saw. But what I never expected was how stunned they were about my in-laws’ home. In their American world of sparkling granite countertops in the kitchens, tidy and uncluttered front doors, neat little garages that hid away things like motorcycles or tools, and floors covered in carpeting, tiles or wood, my in-laws home just didn’t compute. Which of course, left them with one simple question for me:
How could someone ever feel at home there?
Head on over to Gerald’s blog to read the full post. And if you love it, share it! (P.S.: Thanks to Gerald for the opportunity to share my experiences!)
#2: 2014 Blogs by Western Women Who Love Chinese Men. My 2014 blog update once again grabbed your attention. Stay tuned in March 2015 when I’ll refresh the list with the latest new voices on the blogosphere.
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