Chinese husband | Speaking of China

From the Archives: On Finding Courage in Love

A sign taped to a Canada Post box saying "Courage - take as much as you need." — (photo by AshtonPal)

So, we moved this past Friday for the second time this year. But different circumstances precipitated this move: someone I know (don’t worry, it’s NOT my husband John!) assaulted me, and it was no longer safe to live where we were. John and I are now settled in a safer place.

The other day, John told me it took courage for us to leave. So, while I get myself readjusted and resettled here, I thought I’d share with you some stories from my archives, all surrounding the idea of finding courage in love.

Three Inches of Separation: On Loving a Shorter Chinese Man. You might say it takes courage to transcend your own expectations of what your dream man “should be.” I never set any limits on race or ethnicity, but always believed I’d marry someone taller. Then I met John.

Ask the Yangxifu: Chinese Student Wants to Approach American Brunette. “To hell with inhibitions.” With these four words from a reader’s e-mail, a Chinese guy inspired Asian men everywhere to give interracial love a go.

My Chinese Husband Has Balls. You might say John’s gentle appearance is his secret weapon. Behind that 5’4″ stature and soft voice of his lies the heart of a hero — and some serious balls.

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A Story of Sexism, Chinese Men and Who Should Wash the Dishes

Washing the dishes — (photo by peapod labs)

“Washing dishes? That’s women’s work.”

That’s how Yao, my first Chinese boyfriend, ended one late Saturday night dinner at his apartment.

Up until that moment, he romanced me the entire day like any real gentleman — from running to the hospital for my medicine, to regaling me with a delicious homemade dinner of fried rice. All afternoon he told me to rest, relax, take it easy — I still felt exhausted from my recent illness, and had only just regained my appetite. Didn’t anyone ever tell him that sexist slurs are hard for girlfriends to swallow?

“What do mean, ‘women’s work?’ Are you telling me you won’t do the dishes, ever?” I asked.

“It’s not my job.”

I glowered at him. “So who’s going to do the dishes then?”

“Just leave them for my mom,” he said. He immediately jumped up from his seat and wandered over to the bedroom to start watching Saturday night football games.

How could he say that? Didn’t he realize he was dating a feminist who grew up in a household where both mom and dad were breadwinners, and didn’t believe in things like “women’s work”? I wrestled with these, and many more, questions about the man I was dating, and the future we might face ahead of us. But never, ever did I hold the one thought that all too often gets slapped on a guy like Yao — that he was just another sexist Chinese man I should never have dated in the first place. Continue reading “A Story of Sexism, Chinese Men and Who Should Wash the Dishes”

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Shall We Dance? Yes…But Not in Public

A poster for the Japanese movie, Shall We Dance? — (photo by elycefeliz)

In Japan, ballroom dancing is regarded with much suspicion. For a couple to embrace and dance in front of others is beyond embarrassing. A married couple would never think of going out arm in arm, let alone dancing together! A couple would hardly say, ‘I love you’, out loud. The Japanese rather think that intuitive understanding is everything.

So began “Shall We Dance,” a 1996 Japanese movie that John and I happened to watch a couple of weeks ago. But the moment I read those first few sentences in the subtitles, I realized it was more than just a movie. Continue reading “Shall We Dance? Yes…But Not in Public”

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Double Happiness: Chinese Wedding Stories from Four Western Women

John and I kissing at our wedding — John and I, kissing at our wedding

I’m a sucker for Chinese weddings — especially when they involve my fellow yangxifu. Which is why I couldn’t help but put together a little compendium of wedding stories about Western women and Chinese men tying the knot, from getting the little red marriage books to slipping into those little red qipaos. I’ve included snippets of stories from Tianjin Shannon, Tales from Hebei’s Kelly Sandor-Yang, Ember Swift, and My Beijing Survival Diary’s Michelle Guo. Continue reading “Double Happiness: Chinese Wedding Stories from Four Western Women”

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One Introvert, Finding Refuge (And Love) in China

A woman covering her eyes, looking shy — (photo from Marie Sanchez @Flickr)

The Hangzhou cabbie smiled into the rearview mirror. “You’re so quiet and gentle,” he said (wénjìng, 文静), the same way someone might say, “You’ve got lovely hair,” or even, “That’s a nice outfit.”

“Who me?”

He laughed. “Really, you’re quiet and gentle, almost like a Chinese girl.”

I blushed and looked away from the mirror, but not his words. That’s because it wasn’t the first time someone in China complimented me for my quieter side. I heard it from John and my two previous Chinese boyfriends, my boss at the time, and countless friends. And no matter how many times someone praised me, a part of me still remained deeply surprised.

Only years before, when I was in college, the words “quiet and gentle” didn’t follow smiles, but scowls and “She’s so…” Continue reading “One Introvert, Finding Refuge (And Love) in China”

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Double Happiness: A Brazilian-Chinese Love Story That Started With Football

A bride topper made for a cake that was a gift from a bride-to-be to her soccer lover fiance on his birthday. — (photo by Ban Tell)

I’ll be honest, it’s been a challenging summer for us. Moving across country, getting settled in, even my husband’s whole internship thing (he still faces uncertainty in some respects, but that’s another story…sigh).

But then, days before, I found this little postcard of a love story in my inbox — in Portuguese. Well, I don’t know Portuguese. But between my Spanish minor from college and a little help from Google Translate, I worked the story out — and was touched. In the midst of all of the difficulties, I found a little something that made me smile, and restored my faith in the world.

Thank you for this story, Diandra, you saved me from my summer blues. Muito obrigado. Continue reading “Double Happiness: A Brazilian-Chinese Love Story That Started With Football”

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I Never Intended To Marry a Chinese Man

“Did you always want to marry an Asian guy?” That’s what a friend of mine asked me the other night, a question that surprised me.

It’s not that I didn’t know what to say. “No, I never really even thought about it until going to China,” I told her. Then I landed in Zhengzhou, and met a super-sexy, sullen James Dean of a guy who just happened to be Chinese. And while I didn’t end up marrying him, he opened my eyes to a new reality — that I could find love with a Chinese man — that eventually led me to John.

Maybe her words shocked me because yellow fever, Asian fetishes — whatever you want to call it — just never entered into my own equation, and I know I’m not alone. Continue reading “I Never Intended To Marry a Chinese Man”

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“Rougan”: How My Husband Helped Me Love My Curves

A shot of a woman in a short plaid skirt showing off her strong thighs — (photo from Flickr, by Emily Johnson)

Last night, when my husband rolled into bed, he rolled straight over my thighs and couldn’t help caressing them as he went by. Once he tucked into the covers and spooned me, he once again ran his hands up my thighs to my waist and pulled me in closer.

“I love your ròugǎn,” he whispered to me, using the Chinese word (肉感) that means sexy and voluptuous.

Even though I always understood his Chinese perfectly, the idea of ròugǎn as a compliment once sounded absolutely foreign to me. The first character in the word, ròu (肉), is the same word used for meat and flesh. And that reminded me of how people in English might say, “She’s got a lot of meat on her bones,” but never in same sexy and sultry way as my husband. Continue reading ““Rougan”: How My Husband Helped Me Love My Curves”

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The Filial Side of Moving in With My Grandma

Lame, loser, or just plain “oh Lord.” My American friends could have easily thought any one of these things — if not more — about me, all because my husband and I moved in with my grandmother.

That’s why I never just told people in America, “We’re moving in with Grandma,” but made it clear that this move came with an asterisk. She’s 89, she had a stroke some years ago, my grandfather passed away last year and she lives alone. We’re moving to China next year, once John finishes his internship — it just didn’t make sense to start a new household all over again, only to have to leave it all behind in an international move. Without this addendum, I felt certain we’d get branded as just another pathetic boomeranging couple leaching off of sweet little grandma.

But my Chinese father-in-law never needed — or asked for — the footnotes on our move. Continue reading “The Filial Side of Moving in With My Grandma”

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Ask the Yangxifu: My Chinese Family Speaks Local Dialect at Dinner, Not Mandarin

A family dinner at home in an Asian household — (photo by avlxyz)

Lixifur asks:

I am sitting in Beijing after spending 20 days in Southern China visiting my in-laws. I just found your blog and find it most timely. I am writing because I find myself so lost when it comes to the endless, dreaded family gatherings. My Mandarin is intermediate level and I’ve only travelled to China many times. Each time I come, I hope I can improve my skills but I am always disappointed by the fact that I almost never hear Mandarin, except on TV. Even more challenging is that while my mother-in-law is from the city, my father-in-law is from a bit further north in the province and he speaks a mixture of Mandarin, the city’s dialect and his local dialect. Naturally, we have so many family dinners and I am so frustrated by the use of one or more dialects at the table depending on the crowd and almost never Mandarin, except to me with strong accents. Please give me some advice on how to cope with the scenario. I am working on improving my Mandarin, so that will generally help, but I could sure use some advice based on your experience when your in-laws get together and just speak dialect. Continue reading “Ask the Yangxifu: My Chinese Family Speaks Local Dialect at Dinner, Not Mandarin”

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