My Chinese husband told me I've become more superstitious since I married him. (photo by zettmedia)
Cíjiù yíngxīn (辞旧迎新, farewell to the old, welcome the new). That’s what my Chinese husband said to me as we gathered the last of the dirty laundry to throw in the washing machines last night. We already scrubbed our entire apartment clean — I dusted, he vacuumed and washed all of the dishes. Now we wanted clean clothes too.
“You did this before?” he asked me as we walked to the laundry room.
“Nope, I never used to clean house for the New Year. Not before I met you.”
He smiled. “You’ve become more superstitious since you married me,” he said.
My post about the Jewish women-Chinese men connection topped the list for 2011 for Monday posts. (photo by Simon Cataudo)
As the year draws to a close, I’m taking a break during this holiday season to reflect on the past year — and gear up for 2012. In the meantime, I’d like to share with you the top five posts for the year — not just to give me a breather, but to revisit the best of 2011 by views (especially for all of you new readers out there).
On Discrimination and Marriage to a Chinese Man. When things fell apart for John and I in early November, I couldn’t help but write about it on this site. Thanks to everyone who commented or shared this — you all made me feel a little less alone during some tough times (which, sadly, haven’t ended quite yet).
I Love You, Just Not in Chinese. All these years, my Chinese husband had told me “I love you” in English but could never bring himself to say the same in Mandarin Chinese.
Happy holidays and Happy 2012 to all!
P.S.: Don’t forget to check out my Favorites page, with my own hand-picked list of the best posts on Speaking of China.
Christmas is oh so romantic. At least, that’s what my Chinese husband thinks of the holiday -- and I know he’s not alone. (image from efu.com.cn)
Christmas is oh so romantic. At least, that’s what my Chinese husband thinks of the holiday — and I know he’s not alone.
I’ll never forget one Christmas Eve when I stepped out onto Huaihai Road, Shanghai’s equivalent of Fifth Avenue, and right into a sea of twentysomething and thirtysomething couples, strolling hand-in-hand under strings of soft white led Christmas lights up and down the street. There were so many young people in love all around me, I almost felt like I walked onto a set-in-China romantic holiday movie.
It’s not as if Christmas isn’t romantic in the US, where I grew up. After all, Christmas remains the most popular time for wedding proposals, and often a season when many will surprise their loved ones with “a little sparkle” of jewelry under the tree. Plus, there’s at least one romantic holiday movie every year that squeezes in among all of the Santa Claus and elves at the movies (and often far more made-for-TV romantic movies — yes, Lifetime, I’m thinking of you).
But perhaps all that Christmas romance gets lost behind the Santa Claus and the Christmas story and Christmas Eve at your grandma’s and all of your other holiday and family traditions. I don’t know about you, but in my mind, I still think of family when I think of Christmas, and no amount of romantic movies and “buy your engagement ring” commercials could ever change that.
My husband hails from China's land of fish and rice, and my rice cooking skills just didn't cut it. (photo by melanie kuipers)
“My wife cooks great Chinese food.” My husband could never resist saying this in front of other Chinese, especially people we invited for dinner.
Okay, I’ll confess, I make a mean mapo tofu. But I still considered his praise a little crazy. After all, I failed on the most basic measure of a Chinese cook — making steamed white rice.
I never admitted this before, probably because it leads to an unflattering thought — how could she possibly screw up steamed white rice? All right, let’s be clear here. I didn’t really screw it up; Continue reading “How I Finally Learned To Make Fine Rice”
In our game of "who can you trust," there's no such thing as a sure bet here after my Chinese husband's discrimination. (photo by Fran Priestley)
“They’re not even broken relationships. It’s as if the relationships were never even there,” my husband said.
This Sunday evening, John and I reflected on the wreckage of that discrimination — especially the people we never expected to stand against us. People we considered mentors and friends. People who always used to say, “I understand.”
“I don’t understand how they could do this,” I said. “I mean, it’s like they were lying to you all along.”
“That’s the in-group mentality, you know. They never really trust people who are different, never really even consider you like one of them.”
When you build a life with someone from another culture, sometimes you just learn how to transcend your past and create a new future, something that feels as tangible as the traditions you once knew (or never knew).
In my home, I know it’s the holidays when cranberry sauce, hand-rolled Chinese dumplings and five-spice turkey hit the table.
That’s what we had on ours last week, when John and I hosted a Thanksgiving dinner in our home. He and I like to joke that it’s a tradition now, that the season just wouldn’t be right without it, even though it’s only our second year of hosting people for the holiday.
In fact, this so-called tradition happened by accident. Last year, the friend I hoped to spend the holiday made her plans without us, and we weren’t invited. Damn. Just as I started imagining a Thanksgiving without the dinner, my husband said, “why don’t we make it ourselves?” Continue reading “My Holidays Start With Five-Spice Turkey and Chinese Dumplings”
In Chinese, they call it tónggāngòngkǔ (同甘共苦), sharing the sweetness and the sorrows, something my Chinese husband and I know well after his recent misfortune. (photo by Aleksandra P.)
“I just, you know, can’t take this any more,” I said, trailing off into tears in that office, as the advisor passed me a box of kleenex.
“This situation has been very hard on my wife too,” my husband said, referring to what happened over two weeks ago. Technically, it happened to him — but not according to my tears.
These past couple of weeks, we’ve knocked on doors together, even if John did the talking. We’ve discussed next steps, even though John will have to take them alone. We’ve held each other in the dark, and taken turns crying in offices. Continue reading “Sharing the Sweetness and the Sorrows”
A Chinese student who shares his ideas about Americans makes me realize that, maybe, I've been telling myself myths about this country. ( photo by Jorc Navarro)
Last Saturday, my husband John and I welcomed a couple of Chinese students into our home after dinner. Originally, we just talked turkey — or rather, the fact that we invited them over to our place for Thanksgiving. But when the topic came up, John and I had other turkeys in mind, such as the discrimination we faced barely a day before.
Discrimination. I never realized just how intimately I would come to know this word and what it really means after marrying a Chinese man. (photo by ayleene de monn)
Discrimination. I never realized just how intimately I would come to know this word and what it really means after marrying a Chinese man.
I’ve thought about this word often in the past few days because of something that happened. I can’t write about it in any meaningful way, though I desperately want to. Like so many things, I feel condemned to carry this pain around with me in silence. I guess that’s why I needed to write this entry — to at least come forward and acknowledge what has happened, if only in a general sense.
When I married my husband, I never really thought much about the prospect of discrimination that would come with our decision to return to the US. I guess I suspected some people wouldn’t agree with our relationship or would have difficulty accepting John. But I always assumed the discrimination would remain obvious, like the one time when a White supremacist group linked to this website during a forum discussion about a “Chinese takeover.” Continue reading “On Discrimination and Marriage to a Chinese Man”
I delayed sharing this article to first request a few minor corrections in the online version, but became so busy this month that posting it here on the blog just slipped my mind. Actually, it’s probably a lucky omission since I am currently knee-deep in helping with last-minute checks on my husband’s psychology internship applications and had NO idea what I was going to put on the blog today. (Whew!)
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