China | Speaking of China

Chapter 26: Hello, Foreigner – and Goodbye, Generosity

Western woman hiding behind a mooncake box — Sometimes, you misunderstand China, or China misunderstands you. And all you can say is, I'm sorry.

As October 2002 went on, I fell deeper in love with my Chinese boyfriend, John, and found a new sense of belonging through lunches with Zhang Bin.

Yet, was I just fooling myself, to think I could masquerade as a local? I am a foreign woman. My face, hair and larger, curvier body made me a curiosity, no matter how standard my Mandarin pronunciation was.

I wasn’t a curiosity to Jason, an old college classmate of John’s that we met during the National Day holiday, on the way to our favorite restaurant near my apartment. I had met John’s xiongdi — “brothers,” or close friends — once before. Ever since then, I loved knowing anyone with a connection to John, and Jason seemed nice enough. We exchanged phone numbers, with the suggestion we might meet for lunch sometime. “I could practice my Chinese with him,” I whispered to John, as we walked in the other direction down the street, after meeting Jason. Continue reading “Chapter 26: Hello, Foreigner – and Goodbye, Generosity”

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Chapter 25: No Chinese, No American, Just Lunch

Stir-fried chinese vegetables — John, my Chinese boyfriend, wasn't the only one who could make me feel less foreign in China.

When you have a Chinese boyfriend, you have a strange sensation, perhaps the first since your arrival to China — that maybe you’re not so foreign, or so different. The way John spoke to me, and cared for me, made me feel — if only for a moment here and there — that we were equals.

Yet after he left, I began to see that it wasn’t just John who had the capacity to see past my foreign face.

“We shouldn’t see each other as a Chinese and an American.” Those were the words of Zhang Bin, a friend who lived across the street from our office — and who agreed to make lunch with me during the weekdays.

Lunch had been a headache for me ever since I entered the company. The boxed lunches delivered daily to the office were too greasy, and had few vegetables to satisfy a vegan, driving me to find lunch alternatives outside the building. I found them in a variety of restaurants — from a local Zhejiang specialty restaurant to a Japanese noodle house — but usually had to enjoy lunch alone. Continue reading “Chapter 25: No Chinese, No American, Just Lunch”

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How I Spent Chinese New Year, 2010

How did I spend this Chinese New Year? As a host — along with my Chinese husband, John — for our university’s “Chinese Night” on Feb 13, 2010, here in the mountain West of the US. It’s not CCTV’s Spring Festival Party (perhaps, thankfully so!), but it’ll do. 😉

My Chinese husband, John, and I dressed in auspicious red silk to host our university's Chinese New Year celebration. — My Chinese husband, John, and I dressed in auspicious red silk to host our university’s Chinese New Year celebration.

We had more than 12 programs to entertain the audience that evening. Here are a few of my own favorites. Continue reading “How I Spent Chinese New Year, 2010”

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Chapter 24: Tied in Chinese Knots over John

Red Chinese Knot — I was getting tied up in knots over my relationship with my Chinese boyfriend, John, when I never needed to. (Photo from Wikimedia, shot by Ucla90024)

As John, my Chinese boyfriend, and I spent more time together, it was as if we were creating a Chinese knot of our own, promising forever — a forever I had never known with anyone else. And I was tying myself up in knots, because in the world I had known before — where love came and went as effortlessly as the rain across the West Lake in Hangzhou — forever seemed so hard to find, and so hard to believe.

I found solace in my Chinese friend Swallow, one of the translators, a “spicy Sichuan girl” who knew John too. She gave me one of her easy smiles when I told her of my worries, and the experience I had with him during National Day. It was as if she had to laugh at all of the ridiculous mental knots I had created. Continue reading “Chapter 24: Tied in Chinese Knots over John”

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Chapter 23: The Sound of Silence in Love

My Chinese boyfriend, John, by the West Lake in Hangzhou — My Chinese boyfriend, John, became increasingly quiet, and I wanted more words, instead of more silence.

In Chinese, you can say so much, with so little. Four-character idioms could say what a sentence or two in English might. One character could even do the work of a short sentence or sentiment.

But sometimes simplicity invites questions — when one character could mean so many different things. Think about the character 到 (dao). Depending on how you use it, it could say: arrive or reach; to go to; up until, or up to; or thoughtful.

After spending several days touring Beijing with John, our conversations went from so much to so little, where silence filled more of our moments, as if our relationship, like one character, could say more than so many words.

Yet, despite our understanding, I longed for words. I found strength and security in John — in us as a real, lasting couple — through words. Without them, questions began to fill in my mind as we passed National Day together. Continue reading “Chapter 23: The Sound of Silence in Love”

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Ask the Yangxifu: A Big, Fat, Traditional Chinese Wedding?

Ana asks:

I have a question about weddings. I am in my late twenties and recently engaged to my Chinese-American boyfriend,which I am really excited about.

But the wedding worries me. Initially I wanted a simple ceremony. I was raised Christian but he wasn’t, but I wouldn’t insist on a church. just maybe a simple ceremony then banquet with friends, some photos outdoors, etc. But when I suggested it to my boyfriend, he said his parents would never agree to it (his parents are from China), that they expect a big traditional Chinese wedding. I heard Chinese weddings can be very elaborate,exhausting with a lot of drinking, more than one dress,lots of guests etc. Seems overwhelming and not my style!! I haven’t brought it up in front of his parents but I feel kinda stuck now. I just really don’t want all this fuss and don’t understand why we cant make it simpler. I’m not sure I can survive a huge Chinese weddings. What should I do? Continue reading “Ask the Yangxifu: A Big, Fat, Traditional Chinese Wedding?”

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Chapter 22: Hitting the Great Wall(s) of Beijing

The Great Wall of China, cascading over a mountain — Sometimes, you hit walls in life in China. And sometimes, you hit walls on the way to the Great Wall.

When I think of Beijing, I think of walls. I think of the Great Wall, that fortress meandering over a panoply of mountains surrounding Beijing, built to keep foreign invaders out of China.

Today, foreigners can be found all over Beijing, a city that in 2008 warmly welcomed them to the Olympic Games. But sometimes, no matter how open things seem to be, the walls still remain.

I was hitting a wall of my own in Beijing when I couldn’t get in touch with my Chinese boyfriend, John. It was past nine on the evening of September 28, and he had promised to arrive in Beijing on the morning of September 29. But he hadn’t called to say he would definitely come, or that he had bought a train ticket — and his cell phone had lost power, so I couldn’t call or send a text message. I was in my hotel room, without the distractions of the day — a walk around Tian’anmen Square, a visit to a replica of the home from a Dream of Red Mansions — and all I could think of was this vacation couldn’t move forward without John.

A bath, I thought. Just take a bath. So, as I slipped into the tub — my last refuge from a mental breakdown — and my phone rang. It wasn’t John’s number, but I picked it up.

And, sure enough, it was John. “I just got on the train — I’ll be arriving at 7:45am in the Beijing station.”

Just like that, his words broke through the barriers in my mind. He was coming. Our National Day vacation would happen. We would be together again.

Yet, all of my elation never prepared me for the walls that awaited us, after John arrived. Because, when you’re young, in love, and traveling independently — on a budget — in China, something’s bound to catch you, sometime. Continue reading “Chapter 22: Hitting the Great Wall(s) of Beijing”

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Travel China with the Yangxifu: The Henan Museum, Zhengzhou, China

“The museum is under construction, so there are only two rooms open,” the woman behind the information desk told us in a droll voice in Mandarin. She probably had to say this same thing hundreds of times a day, every day.

But while this was just another day for her, this was the only day for John, my Chinese husband, and I to visit the the Henan Museum in Zhengzhou, Henan Province.

We just shrugged our shoulders in disappointment, and walked to the room to our right. It was painted in a forgettable beige — nearly the same color as the loess of the loess plains, where Zhengzhou is located — and seemed to hold, on first glance, an equally forgettable collection of artifacts that couldn’t match what we’d seen in Beijing, Shanghai and Changsha.

Yet, forgettable is hardly how we would describe our visit. That’s because the Henan Museum, opened to the public in 1998, is one of the few museums in China where you don’t feel as if you’ve seen this bronze or that porcelain 100 times before. Invest a little time, be curious, and you will be rewarded with extraordinary stories and unusual relics. Continue reading “Travel China with the Yangxifu: The Henan Museum, Zhengzhou, China”

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Chapter 21: A Foreign Face in Beijing

Western woman meeting the governor of Hangzhou, China — As a foreigner in China, sometimes your "foreign face" is your most useful asset. (Pictured: the company introduces me to the governor of Hangzhou, because I'm the token foreigner.)

Attending the conference in Beijing is the closest I’ll get to feeling like a model — because I’m valued more for my appearance than my intellect. My foreign appearance, that is.

Our company has a booth enviably located near the main entrance and the stairs, guaranteeing just about everyone will pass by. We’ve stacked our tables high with the company’s free manufacturers’ directory — available in exchange for a business card.

Standing behind that table, I want to be more useful than just a face. I help the sales reps unload boxes of directories. I collect business cards, hand out directories, and shake hands, just like everyone else. But in the end, I am still a curiosity, and still largely ornamental — and the attendees can’t help but remind me of it, especially once I speak in Chinese. Continue reading “Chapter 21: A Foreign Face in Beijing”

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Chapter 20: The Forbidden Heart of My Ex-Chinese Boyfriend

Tiananmen gate, just before the Forbidden City in Beijing — Frank, my ex-Chinese boyfriend, used language to create distance, making his heart as fortified as the Forbidden City in Beijing once was.

Sometimes, life doesn’t keep the people you love the most by your side. As John left on September 19 for Shanghai, I still spent every workday in the office with Frank, my ex-Chinese boyfriend, sitting right by my side. And on September 23, I would have to attend a conference in Beijing with Frank.

Mr. CEO, the head of this Chinese Internet company, had asked me to go to the conference. “I’d like you to help represent the company,” said the sprightly 30-year old with a hand cupped over a slight smile, almost as if embarrassed. Maybe Mr. CEO had so much more to say, but simply kept it to himself.

Frank, however, wasn’t about to keep to himself his assessment of why I was going. “You’re there for ornamental purposes,” he announced confidently, almost with a smirk on his face. I wasn’t a Christmas tree, yet it was obvious that Mr. CEO needed me there to make the company look more international. Still, Frank’s words smacked of such sarcasm, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was how he pushed me away and created space between us — even when that space, physically, didn’t exist.

When you’re forced together, against your will, sometimes language is all you have for separation. Continue reading “Chapter 20: The Forbidden Heart of My Ex-Chinese Boyfriend”

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